#they’re all over the body but are significantly larger on ends of their hands

[vqlisms]

my worst habit is that i have to figure out the anatomy of any fantasy creatures i think about. anyways tritons are like elasmobranchs

[wishcamper]

Gone Baby Gone: birth control and the ethics of risky sex

CW: abortion, sexual violence.

Creds: licensed counselor with expertise in addiction, trauma, and gay stuff. Experience with tx exclusively for pregnant people and young parents with addictions.

Okay class! Today we’ll be talking about abortion oh my god don’t run away I’ll make it worth your while I promise.

Firstly, a disclaimer: I’m not interested in debating whether abortion should be legal/allowed/is moral or immoral. The research bears out, unequivocally, that access to comprehensive reproductive and family planning options improves everyone’s lives (1). And again, not actively anti-SJM or any characters, just exploring themes and what they say about us.

It’s so funny to me that NO one liked the pregnancy plot line in ACOSF, whether they love or hate or are indifferent (me) to Rhysand. And I think that’s because we, the largely femme audience engaging with the material, recognize the strings of violence weaved into it, possibly not even consciously but on a deep, bodily, instinctual level.

The 2007 crime drama Gone Baby Gone centers on a conversation about motherhood, parenting fitness, and what society owes to children. Beneath that though, and I believe unintentionally, is another story about pregnancy-capable people’s autonomy and the cycle of oppression around reproductive rights.

I’m going to spoil the movie for you - I don’t want you to watch it because Casey Affleck is a creep, and it’s not that good anyway. There’s a whole mystery plot, but the basics are: drug addict Helene’s daughter Amanda is kidnapped, then later thought to be killed but they never find her body. Casey Affleck, Boy Detective uncovers a scheme by two rogue cops to fake Amanda’s death and kidnap her because they think Helene isn’t a good mom. And they’re kind of right; once Amanda comes home, Helene is an incredibly neglectful mother, and the movie wants you to go woahhh, maybe those murdering unethical cops were right after all!

Sure, Jan.

The movie ends with the lead character wondering if Helene, for whom he’s literally killed people to bring her child back, is even fit to raise Amanda in the first place, even interested. And here’s where I feel complicated, because on one hand - yes, this is your child, and she’s completely innocent in all this and doesn’t deserve abuse and neglect. AND what were this women’s other options? Does anyone ask? Living in deeply Catholic working class Boston, did she have access to birth control? Could she have gotten an abortion? Would her culture (and her internalization of it) even allow her to entertain that option? Could she perhaps be using substances because of the circumstances of her life over which she has no control? (See Nesta, Interrupted for more on that.)

So I ask myself: what does it mean in our culture, as a person who can become pregnant, to have sex with someone who can impregnate you? What happens when your body becomes the battlefield on which larger conflicts are played out?

I’ve been thinking on these question a lot recently because my IUD is about to expire and my doctor recommended a back up method while I wait to get a new one. This has prompted my husband and me go farther into the kids conversation and consider not just what it would mean for me to get pregnant on purpose or accidentally, but what it would mean for me to get pregnant here. Where we live, abortion is technically legal but functionally impossible to find. Even for a wanted pregnancy, if it became life-threatening I might have extremely limited options.

This makes any sex inherently risky for me. IUDs failure rates range from 0.3% to 2.3%, but that still means as few as 3 in 1000 and as many as 2-3 in 100 users still get pregnant. And IUDs significantly raise the likelihood of medically dangerous pregnancies if a fetus is conceived (2). The long odds are somewhat comforting, but if I were to have an ectopic or other life-threatening pregnancy complication, I can’t trust that my local doctors would be able to save my life, legally. 

And we have talked about how we both feel strongly: it’s my life first. My husband says he would rather have me, and he would rather any children of ours have me, too. And there’s this sort of sick sense of gratitude I feel, because that is, to me, the only answer, but it feels like such a kindness nonetheless.

So we get to ACOSF (you forgot this was about ACOTAR, right? Me too.). When they decided to start trying to get pregnant, Rhys had to know the risk was there. My boy, you are half Illyrian. Even without Feyre being Mystique, get out your punnet square and do the math. Your baby always had a 25% chance of having wings. Conception was always risky. I refuse to believe he didn’t know that, and it was irresponsible of him to not inform her, a person who only entered his world like two years ago.

Then they conceive a baby with wings that, as far as they know, she has no way of safely delivering. If that’s true, why couldn’t Feyre have an abortion? I’m serious. They found out very early the baby had wings. It’s not unlike an ectopic pregnancy, or even a very small person becoming pregnant. Adolescent mothers (age 10-19) (god it feels gross to type that) are at much higher risk for conditions like eclampsia, endometritis, and systemic infections, not to mention fetal complications (3). Regardless of the details, Feyre’s body is not equipped to handle this pregnancy, and yet they never seem to explore the option of terminating it.

Which begs the question: did Feyre even know abortion was an option? Is it an option in Prythian?

In my opinion, probably. If the fae have contraception (let’s not even get into STDs and the ’they have magical healing’ BS), they must have abortion. The first record of an induced abortion was on an Egyption Papyrus around 1600BC, though the practice likely well predates that. The Ancient Greeks drove a plant to extinction for its abortifacient properties (4). And even when banned, people find ways, because they have to. Reproductive health has long been of importance to pregnancy-capable people for reasons of safety, resources, and survival. 

At the end of the day, Feyre is allowed to carry a pregnancy to term that she knows will kill her. That’s her right to bodily autonomy being exercised freely, and I will never begrudge her that. But imagine if abortion were an open option for her, and she knew the birth would kill her, and then Rhys. Knowing that, what do you think she’d choose? To die, bringing her mate along with her, and leave her child parentless, if they even survive? I really struggle to see that. Feyre loves hard, and knows what it’s like to grow up with extreme neglect. I cannot imagine her condemning a child to the same circumstance she found so damaging. But Rhys doesn’t tell her, forbids anyone else to, and possibly robs her of the ability to terminate the pregnancy. And also Madja, I don’t forgive her either for glossing over it. Girl needs to retake her boards.

In the beginning of my career, I worked at an inpatient substance use treatment center that was specifically for pregnant people and mothers with young children. They were allowed to bring two kids under the age of 5. I could write a million words about the flaws in that place, but it was at least something. In working with these people, the same themes came up over and over:

They wanted to get jobs but couldn’t afford childcare. 

Caring for children kept them isolated from support networks and financially strapped.

The daily maintenance and self-focus of sobriety felt at odds with being responsible for children. Ironically, that neglect of self often created the perfect conditions for relapse.

Children kept them tethered, legally and/or personally to abusive partners.

They received extreme judgment, even while seeking help, for “doing this to their children”.

They did not have adequate access to reproductive autonomy, whether financially, from religious beliefs, or otherwise.

This evidence is purely anecdotal, but I do think it speaks to the larger cycle of covert violence and policing of women and pregnancy-capable people’s bodies. It is well-documented that lack of reproductive freedom has a direct negative effect on mental health and wellbeing of people of child -bearing age (5). There is also a much larger intersection to this conversation when it comes to race, class, and the systemic oppression of people of color via reproductive restriction, but Feyre is privileged in the ACOTAR world for the most part so this doesn’t touch her. She doesn’t have to wonder if she can afford a baby, or if her husband is going to be racially profiled and taken to jail or just straight up murdered by law enforcement. (and this is not to downplay the experiences Rhysand have, that Sarah doesn’t give us, being a mixed race man, more so that he is in an extreme position of power.)

I think it’s a shame we didn’t get to explore this in ACOSF with Cassian and Nesta. They jump in the sack even after learning Nesta’s body could not handle an Illyrian baby. No amount of ‘the monthly aid’ justifies not having an honest and thorough conversation about what having sex means before they sleep together. Cassian must feel real confident in the birth control options of Prythian to be spreading his soldiers around so willy nilly. And I just hope, for all their sakes, that he’s right.

Ibis Reproductive Health and Center for Reproductive Rights, “Evaluating Priorities: Measuring Women’s and Children’s Health and Well-being against Abortion Restrictions in the States,” (2017).

Kim SK, Romero R, Kusanovic JP, Erez O, Vaisbuch E, Mazaki-Tovi S, Gotsch F, Mittal P, Chaiworapongsa T, Pacora P, Oggé G, Gomez R, Yoon BH, Yeo L, Lamont RF, Hassan SS. The prognosis of pregnancy conceived despite the presence of an intrauterine device (IUD). J Perinat Med. 2010;38(1):45-53. doi: 10.1515/jpm.2009.133. PMID: 19650756; PMCID: PMC3418877.

World Health Organization: WHO. (2023, June 2). Adolescent pregnancy. https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/adolescent-pregnancy#:~:text=Adolescent%20mothers%20(aged%2010%E2%80%9319,birth%20and%20severe%20neonatal%20condition.

Muvs - Abtreibung in der Antike. (n.d.). https://muvs.org/en/topics/termination-of-pregnancy/abortion-in-antiquity-en/

Liu SY, Benny C, Grinshteyn E, Ehntholt A, Cook D, Pabayo R. The association between reproductive rights and access to abortion services and mental health among US women. SSM Popul Health. 2023 May 12;23:101428. doi: 10.1016/j.ssmph.2023.101428. PMID: 37215399; PMCID: PMC10199416.

[memoriapraeteritorumbonorum]

The Sons of Fëanor behind closed doors

Author’s note: A collection of random intimate moments between you and your favorite Fëanorian. Part 1/? There will definitely be more parts to this!

-

Caranthir

Carnistir always runs warm

It doesn’t matter how cold it is outside, his temperature never seems to drop. Must be his blood cuz its boiling  

In the evening, you’ll find him looking through the bookshelves in your chambers, thinking about which one he’s going to read to you

This is a routine you have established quite early on, him being a bookworm and you loving the sound of his voice and storytelling abilities 

He always comes back to join you right when your feet start getting cold. The second he sits down beside you, you bury them underneath his legs, certified personal heater 

He shudders at the coldness and shoots you an annoyed look, scolding you about how you should put on socks. 

"You’re going to catch a cold." 

"Not when I have you right here!" You grin and are met with him rolling his eyes 

When he opens the book, you throw your arms around his neck and look over his shoulder, waiting for him to start reading, but he just seems to be flipping through the pages aimlessly, too distracted by your sudden proximity

His face grows redder with every second

You snuggle into his hot cheek, and he feels you smile against his skin.

How is he supposed to focus?? Manz is flustered

"You do remember where we left off, right?" You ask teasingly, he just clears his throat and mutters something about chapter three. When he finally finds the chapter he lets out a breath he seemed to be holding forever 

Is it hot in here? Nope, just Cara’s body temperature which is off the charts by now 

There’s something about his reading voice, the way it sounds soft like a velvet blanket, yet so sharp

And though you’d love to listen to the story, the exhaustion takes over you, leaving you half asleep on his shoulder near the chapter’s end

He puts down the book and rests his head against yours for a moment, secretly smiling to himself in pure bliss before gently picking you up and carrying you to bed

Eru, the things you do to him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way 

Maedhros

This gentle giant loves it when you play with his hands

He noticed a long time ago how fidgety you would get whenever something was making you nervous

Your anxiety shows itself in you cracking your knuckles, playing with the rings on your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your clothing 

Sometimes, however, you wouldn’t have anything to help reduce your anxiety 

He made it a habit to look for that twitch in your fingers, and whenever that happens, he just takes your hands into his

And since his hands are significantly larger than yours, it would only take one of them to encapsulate both of yours, and squeeze them reassuringly (we’re obviously talking pre-oath here oop) while the other tends to whatever it is he was doing before

Although open displays of affection are frowned upon, he considers your comfort more important than the judgement he would receive 

Let’s be real, nobody would dare to ever voice their disapproval. It’s Maedhros they’re talking to, zero fucks given here

This morning, you have been sitting next to Mai in a meeting for the longest time when one of the attendees decides to criticize some of the contributions you have made earlier. You freeze. Heart starts beating impossibly fast at the tone of his voice, pointed and condescending. Eru. Do you answer? Are you supposed to answer?! He’s looking right at you. Eruerueru-

The second Mai’s hand finds yours under the table, the tension leaves your body. 

You take it with an urgency he recognizes all too well. One of your hands holds on to his wrist while the fingers on your other one intertwine themselves with his, your thumb drawing hectic circles into his cool skin. Your grip on his wrist tightens at times and you take deep breaths, trying to remain in control 

You let go of his wrist and trace the veins on the back of his hand, trying to memorize the way his skin feels on yours, before you turn his hand around in your lap and do the same thing with the lines on his palm

His hand is relaxed in your grip, gradually transferring some of that energy to you

He’s just so tall and self assured — the complete opposite of your current state — you could find solace in his presence alone if it weren’t for your itching fingers 

Your movements become slower the longer you stay in contact with him

It’s like his fëa gathers in his hand, knowing you need it to touch you directly to come to your senses

And so the rush wears off, eventually the attendee stops talking and you are able to form a response that is just coherent enough to be said out loud in this setting

And as a result of your bond and the indemmar emerging from it, Maitimo proceeds to expand your argument in his own words, closing the case gracefully as ever without letting anything show 

You don’t know what you’d do without him, especially in situations like these 

Maglor

Contrary to popular belief, Makalaurë is a clumsy individual 

You have to give that to him, his mind seems to be running nonstop, I imagine him to always be on the edge of sensory overload — just look at the world around you, how could you not want to capture every single aspect of it in poetry and song? 

So, naturally, he’s not always fully present, at least not when he’s scribbling things on paper

You can tell whether to talk to him or leave him to his affairs by the way he’s sitting, the speed and loudness of the quill on his paper.

The more he hunches his back, the more he squints his eyes, chews on his lower lip, the messier his handwriting appears, the jerkier he moves the quill — that’s when you know not to disturb him

Although sometimes, you yourself are quite preoccupied and forget about it

"LAURË!" you call out as you burst into his room, feet stomping on the wooden planks so enthusiastically their creaking could be mistaken for a cat screaming after having been stepped on its tail 

Poor Laurë is so startled, he jumps out of his skin, dies and is reborn all at once

The quill in his hand slides across the paper with the sudden movement of his arm and, yikes, the ink pot is sent flying along with pieces of parchment

He yells, eyes wide, hands in the air, frozen in place, a literal deer in the headlights

You stop dead in your tracks and cover your mouth in shock, immediately regretting your loud entry

"ERU, Y/N, DON’T DO THIS TO ME" "I’M SO SORRY!!" "WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING?!" "I DON’T KNOW!!"

The last piece of paper lands on the ground, the air settles down and only then do you see the damage — splotches of ink are littered all over his desk and notes, his hands and sleeves. He sits there, with his upper body turned towards you, staring at his work on the floor, slowly breaking out of his state of shock and moving to pick it up with shaky hands

You hate to admit it to yourself, but he’s so unintentionally funny with his big eyes and startled movements. You can see how he’s trying to coordinate his thoughts again as his hands reach for each piece of paper below, sometimes grabbing the air instead of the actual object 

Somebody help this man

And Eru forbid, when he sees the spilled ink on his notes, he goes through all the stages of grief right in front of your eyes and you feel even worse for the laughter that’s bubbling up inside of you

He’s like a sloth, slowly collecting his belongings with calculating eyes

You hastily step to his side and help him arrange everything on the desk, then proceed to get a washcloth to wipe away the spilled ink

When you’re finished, you are met with judgemental eyes 

"I’m sorry, I’m really sorry," you manage to get out before the laughter bursts out of you. Laurë huffs and before you know it, his blue fingertips smear the leftover ink across your face

"Hey!" you yelp when he picks you up and carries you outside

If it weren’t for the loud breath he lets out through his nose, you would have thought he was really mad at you, but he just puts you back down, trying his hardest to hide his smile upon seeing the blue lines on your face 

"I’ll just come back later," you purse your lips and look up at him. He shakes his head at the mischievous twinkle in your eyes before leaning down to kiss the top of your head and then slamming the door in your face lol 

Celegorm

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that Tyelko loves nature

You, on the other hand, have certain things you’d prefer to stay away from, such as spiders 

And as much as you love him, his "conquer your fear" mindset is anything but dear to you. You’re a firm believer of respecting people’s fears and not forcing them to change that, whereas he thinks practically and doesn’t always consider your thoughts, such as right now

He came running into your room when he had heard you scream in fear, ready to attack whatever was threatening you, or so he thought 

So there you are, standing on a chair, pointing at the spider in his hand

"Tyelkormo, I swear on my life, if you come any closer-" 

"Y/N, you can’t be serious, it’s tiny." "I don’t care!" You yell, slowly stepping down from the chair and backing up

He smirks "You can’t be that scared, love" 

And all the alarms in your head go off when he steps closer to you, spider enclosed in his hand that is extended towards you

When your back hits the wall, you know you’re done for

"Tyelko-" "Just look at it!" He laughs at your reaction, knowing he won’t actually do anything. Deep down, you know it too, but he just loves to poke fun at you and you fall for it every single time

You think he'd leave it at that, but he actually dares to open his hand and of course, the spider jumps out in a frenzy, beginning to rope itself down from the palm of his hand

And you SCREAM, poor Tyelko actually has to cover his ears that's what he gets

The spider hurries away into some corner and you make a leap for the bed, grab a pillow and throw it at Tyelko, yelling at him to take it outside

When he finally does, your rage is still very much present and you take another pillow from behind you and hit him repeatedly

"Don't-" hit. "you-" hit. "ever-" hit. "do-" hit. "that-" hit. "again-" hit. "do-" hit. "you-" hit. "understand-" hit. "you're so annoying!!!"

He's obviously unfazed, if anything his smirk has grown even bigger

His arms snake around your waist and pull you close, cradling your head in his hand

"Did you seriously think I was going to let that spider harm you? You're so easy to tease, love"

Curufin

"Close your eyes," he instructs softly before carefully placing the item in your hands. He spent hours working on this, both scared and excited for your reaction

When he tells you to open your eyes again, they fall on a set of beautiful earrings. But that's not what makes you tear up!

Months ago, you had mentioned how much you missed the color of forget-me-nots in the winter time. It was a silly little thought you had voiced on a leisurely stroll with him on a rather cold morning, not expecting him to actually take it to heart like this

But here you are, in your hand these rose gold earrings, shaped like forget-me-nots, with little shimmering gems in the center — the same color as your favorite spring flower.

"Curufin!" you gasp, looking up at him

He just smiles and for the first time ever, he looks flustered, bashful, even

He's always so calm, stoic and levelheaded. To see him deliver a gesture like this is unusual to say the least

"Here, let me help you put them on," he gently takes the earrings out of your hands with his calloused fingers

You notice a band-aid on his left index finger, did he hurt himself when crafting these?

Once the earrings are on, you step in front of the mirror and Eru, the smile that blooms on your face almost makes his heart stop

Curvo was never one to display a lot of emotion, he just never deemed it necessary

But seeing you touched like this made him question what was so bad about letting his guard down sometimes

Especially when you would look at him, and his heart would erupt into a million tiny butterflies upon the effects of his gesture

Amrod

You're sat on the wooden fence framing the fields close to your estate, watching the cows

The sun is just about to set and you catch yourself staring at him

"Is there something on my face?" he suddenly asks and raises his eyebrows, you're caught in the act

Quick, think of something to save yourself from the embarrassment!!! Or else he'll never stop teasing you about this!!!

So you flick his forehead and watch him open his mouth in protest

"Hey!" "What are you gonna do, Pityo?"

You stick your tongue out and jump down into the high grass, watching him do the same, ready to follow you for some revenge

The air is quiet, and the first fireflies are already buzzing around the fields when he starts chasing you through the flowers

Your giggles and screams make the cows raise their heads one by one, disturbed by these two strange creatures running around them

Usually, Amrod knows not to run too close to the cows as it would agitate them, but he's just too caught up in the way your laughter tickles his pointed ears and the way your h/c hair flows in the wind — he doesn't notice one of them standing closer to him than he has anticipated

So yeah, poor unfortunate Pityo bumps into that cow. And he stumbles. And falls. And when he realizes what he's fallen into, he yells. And when you realize what he's fallen into, he's done for

"NO WAY!!!!" "STOP"

He gets up and looks down at his linen shirt which is now an earthy, lovely shade of brown

When you come closer, you see the blush on his cheeks, his ears growing redder and redder

"Not a word to my brothers!" he warns, pointing his finger at you

"What do I get in return?" you ask and clasp your hands in front of your body, a shit-eating grin on your face pun intended

He looks around helplessly, trying to come up with something to keep you from running off to tell everyone about this mishap

He just huffs in defeat, shoulders slacking "I'll do whatever you want, just don't tell them."

You don't know why, but seeing him at your mercy like this makes you feel bolder than usual

"Kiss me." It's a short and sweet proposal.

You can see in his face that he's expected anything but this, because manz GASPS and is frozen in place

He's been crushing on you for quite some time, and the two of you certainly shared a cheeky bond, constantly teasing each other in a loving way, but kissing you???

He's at a loss for words and just stares at you in disbelief, mouth opening and closing in an attempt to reply but failing miserably

You've never seen him so flustered when he usually has a snarky comeback for every situation. He's so cute.

You carefully take a few steps closer to him until you're a few centimetres apart and look up at him with a timid smile, waiting for his reaction. And he gazes into your eyes with a newfound vulnerability that makes your heart beat a lot faster than it already does

And when he finally makes up his mind and decides to go for it, the sun has set

His lips hover over yours before softly laying themselves upon yours like a secret in the dark, only to be whispered aloud in your presence

Amras

"Telvo, I'm really tired, how much longer do we have to walk?" you ask, the ache in your feet is almost unbearable at this point

He came into your room this morning, asking you to accompany him on his quest to find mushrooms to try an old recipe for a stew he had found in the library

You don't know how many times he's already come knocking at your door demanding your help for the most trivial things, but you comply every time, you just can't help it. Some of your best adventures are made with him

So there you are, wandering along the path leading back to your home, your apron full of mushrooms of all kind, Telvo walking in front of you with that bounce in his step indicating his good mood

"We're almost there, look!" He points towards the house on the edge of the valley you're passing through, although it's a bit too far for your liking

You groan, stumbling over a root sticking out from beneath you and having the mushrooms tumble all over the ground

"Oh no..." you sigh, looking up at your companion who's surprised at your exhaustion

"Are you alright? I'm sorry if I made you walk too much!" He stammers, crouching to pick up the mushrooms and put them back into your apron, which you had folded into a makeshift bag

Once they're all in there, he turns his back to you and gestures for you to hop on, which you do gladly

"Y/N, Y/N, you're spending too much time indoors. Look at how exhausted you are!" he snickers and resumes his trip towards your house. You just snuggle into his shoulder and blow into his ear

"Not everyone can run around in the forest all day, you know?" to which he just shakes his head and laughs

Once you're inside, you begin to prepare the stew, bickering and joking around all the while

"Eru, hopefully this will taste good. Where did you even find that recipe?"

He tells you about a collection of old, dusty books hidden away in his father's library. Some traveller had devised this recipe a long time ago. It's said to warm you from within with its unique taste. You could listen to his rambling for hours. He's always had a talent for discovering the most random things and taking them straight to you, his partner in crime and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Once the stew is done, you dig in, and who would have thought? A blissful warmth spreads throughout your bodies, caressing your bellies and putting satisfied smiles onto your faces

"Told you it was gonna taste good," he mumbles and winks, beckoning you to come and sit next to him so you could enjoy the incoming food coma together

He really is full of peculiar ideas, your beloved redhead

[grmmorg]

Nikon d7000 price in nepal

Nikon d7000 price in nepal upgrade#

I think it produces awesome pictures and it has exceptional build quality. This lens (probably because it’s a kit lens) has come in for a fair bit of abuse online. It’s only recently that I’ve gotten a lot of use out of the 18-105 kit lens. I tended to use mostly these two lenses for a while. They’re both great lenses and neither is very expensive. I picked up two Nikon prime lenses to go with it – the Nikon AF-S Nikkor 35mm f/1.8G and the AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8G. I’ve been using the D7000 for a few months now. It’s just that for that much money, I’d like to get a bit more in the way of build quality. Again, I want to say that the 600D is a great camera. It was a bare whisper with no vibration at all. When I picked up the D7000 after that, I could really feel the difference in the solid build quality and the precision of the controls and the effortless and nearly inaudible little “schnick” of the shutter firing. And when I took the pictures, I heard a distinct “ping” sound, like a rusty spring inside the camera had fired, and I could feel the vibration of the camera body as the shutter flipped up and down. The buttons also felt very creaky with a lot of play. I put down my D7000 and picked up the 600D and how light it was almost blew my mind. This camera is also a great camera and probably the closet Canon competitor for Nikon’s D5100. They asked me if I could take a picture of their group and they handed me their camera – a Canon EOS 600D (also called a T3i). I remember walking around Taipei not that long ago taking pictures when I came across a group of people taking pictures of themselves outside a restaurant. I appreciate things that are well-built and I feel a little burst of pleasure every time I pick up the D7000. In the end, my buyer’s remorse faded and I came to love my D7000. I also looked through its viewfinder to remind myself how superior the viewfinder of the D7000 was – much larger and much brighter. While out walking around with my camera, I’d pop into a camera store just to pick up a D5100 and remind myself of its toy-like feel and ergonomics. For weeks, I had to go over my reasons for purchasing the D7000 to reassure myself that I hadn’t made a mistake. Before I could change my mind, I bought the camera (the kit with the 18-105 lens) and took it home.īuyers remorse is a fact of life for me, and because of the high purchase price of the D7000 and its greater weight, I doubted I’d made the right choice for a long time. The D7000 was significantly more expensive than the D5100, but I at least felt like I was getting something of value for my money. There was none of the looseness and clicky/plasticy feel that the D5100 had. The buttons and controls were crisp and hard with a good feel. The feel of the body and the controls was miles ahead of the D5100. THIS was a well-built piece of technology. As soon as I picked it up, I could feel the difference. I asked the clerk at the camera store if I could check out the Nikon D7000 sitting beside the D5100. As I said, perhaps I’m out of touch with prices, but for that much money, I expect something much more solid. It was so light and the buttons, wheels, and controls felt so plasticy, that I couldn’t justify spending $850 on it. The D5100, for all its ability to produce great images, felt toy-like in my hands. And that scanner is a serious chunk of well-built technology. In fact, I think I’ve only spent that much money once before in my life and that was for a Nikon Super Coolscan 5000 ED. I’ve hardly ever spent that much for anything in my life (other than for flights). Perhaps I’m behind the times, but when I plunk down $850, I expect to get something very substantial. The problem, once I was holding a D5100 in my hands, was what I felt was a disconnect between the build quality of the camera and its price.

Nikon d7000 price in nepal upgrade#

It seemed the perfect upgrade from my D40X. It takes great pictures, is quite small and light, and has a swivel screen. And all the reports I’ve heard and the reviews I’ve read recommend it highly. That’s not to say that the D5100 isn’t a great camera. Once at the camera store, however, I started to have second thoughts. I went to the camera store with money in my pocket fully intending to just buy a D5100 and then bring it home. It was something of a surprise purchase in that I went out to buy a Nikon D5100. A few months ago, I purchased a Nikon D7000 DSLR.

[captains-simp]

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

*

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

*

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.

[stopeatingwhales]

second chance x damon albarn

i'm surprised i haven't written anything about dilf damon yet bc i've been so obsessed with him recently wtf. anyways enjoy x

i might do a second part to this, idk yet tho

Pairing: dilf damon x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 2.786

Requested by anon <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Do you want to come over?” I abruptly asked, the silence pouring through the line deafening my ears as my fingers toyed with the hem of my shirt. The desperation and moment that led to me ringing my ex-boyfriend at what was nearing eight in the evening seemed as though it was a fever dream, the words rolling off my tongue so delicately out of apprehension only a fragment of that trance. In all honesty, I had no idea as to why I rang Damon, or to what extent the string of thoughts guided me towards the action of calling - we had been broken up for around a year, and it came as a much larger shock that I was able to muster the amount of courage to tap his contact on my phone and attentively listen to the thunderous rings as the landlines attempted to connect, instead of quickly shutting the phone off before he was able to receive a missed call alert.

“Uh, um - are you sure?” he questioned, the stutter escaping his mouth insinuated that he was just as dazed at my sudden offer as me, the demeanour of his voice accentuating the idea that he was entirely finished with the ephemeral chapter of his life which had me intertwined inside as his partner; that he had gotten over me quicker than the momentary period our relationship lasted. My heart sank, realising how indigent I sounded, as if I had never gotten over him throughout our time apart - which I did, learning to live with myself was easier than I had thought it was going to be; the weeks leading up to the breakup stemming from the distance we shared apart due to Damon consistently being on tour and never providing enough time for me, for us, to consider one another as more than romantically acquainted, though that didn’t mean the gap in my heart had been sealed shut, it was simply brimmed with other, unspecial fragments of things which could only distract the thought of him for so long, until I’d discover myself adventuring for something else to hyperfixate my thoughts upon, though he always returned.

“Yeah…” My voice trailed off, so quiet that I struggled to sustain the volume. Though we had only just spoken, the trance that he had obtained over me for all those months we were with one accord, returned in an instant, having the same rush that a recollection of memories, pastimes that were once forgotten, crumbled to dust, had been reborn; ignited into a new bloom in the height of a harvest, resulting in the scolding of yourself upon how you granted the ability to forget such a thing. It seemed as if all those thoughts, ideations convinced to the point that I had gotten over him, were myriads of masks attempting to say it enough to believe it. Without a doubt, I had never overcome the strains of the acquaintance we shared - and I could only hope he felt the same way.

I heard his throat clear itself before his voice echoed through the telephone speakers once again. “Alright… I’ll be there in a bit.” he mumbled, those words bringing a soft, yet apprehensive grin to my lips. I had no idea what I was doing, or why, but it felt right.

It felt as if only the sum of a few minutes passed when I heard a distinguishable knock on the door; one that had not rang through my ears for an interminable amount of time, one that was able to send me months back in time to a period where he had significantly been a figurehead dictating the story. As I jolted up to answer the door, it felt as if things were normal again, back to how they used to be so many nights previous; me waiting for him to come home after he spent a long day at the recording studio, crafting what could only be assumed was the pure essence of talent, unlocking the door to allow my arms to envelop into an embrace cherished with affection and warmth, proving he longed to have my presence just as much as I craved his. Once my eyes met the sight of him, my heart dropped at the overwhelming feeling of my reminiscing about what once was, the nostalgia for a moment so authentically shaped with what could only be described as true love, my body yearning to relish in the sensation of his arms protectively wrapped around my body, a feeling which could only fulfill one’s heart with all that it desires. "Hi..." I trailed off, stunned by how similar, yet different his appearance was from when we last saw one another. His hair had the same shape, though it seemed a little shorter, his eyebags still prominent on his features, though it seemed as if they had sagged down slightly, posing the idea of whether he had been sleeping alright. His torso still adorned shirts with dark colours, amplified with one of his leather jackets which only made me more attracted to him. Widening the door, he set foot into the apartment, nodding his head lightly as a greeting. Although I was very elated to the fact that he was in my apartment, it felt eerie having him back here after so long, stepping foot into the space that was once served merely as a homely and secure space where we both could simply live and enjoy our time together, no distractions included.

Once I had followed him into the living space, he took a seat onto the couch facing the television. I attempted to make my footsteps omit as little noise as possible, as if to avoid damaging the awkward silence that had been shared between the pair of us. It went without saying that neither of us knew how to break the ice, or where this was going to head. One could only hope that the outcome of this meeting was positive. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked, ushering over to the cabinet adjacent to the television, supplied with all sorts of alcoholic beverages in which I had not touched, simply there as a point of manners to offer when somebody had come over. “White?” I offered, pulling out an almost-full bottle of white wine. I knew he hated it.

"You know I’ve always hated white." he mumbled, a small smile playing upon his lips. Something about that little grin plastered on his lips made my stomach flip and turn, welcoming a swarm of butterflies to accentuate the nervous pit that had formed within myself. The intense feelings reminded me of the same bewilderment your body undergoes during the first date; there is such a raw attraction to somebody that you know far too little about, but you are so hypnotised by their presence it is as if they’re the only thing in the world that matters, to the point that they obnoxiously overtake your mind, every little thought occupied with their name, wondering whether they may like such and such, like an infection spreading without you knowing such cure for it. The atmosphere was intense, carrying the same ambience of two strangers meeting for the first time in an isolated space, though there was also a refreshing element of familiarity that neither of us wanted to admit that we appreciated so deeply.

"Red?" I asked, snatching the half empty bottle as I placed the other wine bottle back in its designated place, turning my head back to fix my gaze onto Damon, raising my eyebrows as a form of derise for the drink. Nodding his head in response, I quickly took two glasses from the cabinet, brimming them both with the alcoholic liquid before slowly making my way to sit next to him on the sofa, handing him one of the glasses as he thanked me in response. The same devilish silence echoed in the room once again as we granted the situation to truly sink in - thankfully alcohol was present. As I took a sip of the beverage, I tried to gulp down as much liquid as possible before I spoke once again. "So... how have you been?"

"Good... Just came off tour actually. Was a really successful one." he replied, his voice laced with a slight tone of doubt, edging the regret of so eagerly returning back into a place that was once so attached to his occupancy. He carried on talking about how the tour had been, my head subconsciously nodding, attentive to what he was talking about. Each time he had told me about something new they had added, or something they had changed surrounding the live performance set-up, it never failed to blow me away. Him and Jamie together, working on such a creative idea and putting it to life on stage was truly something out of rare virtuosity, disregarding the lengthy old ramblings from Damon almost every night he had returned home about how much Jamie had pissed him off, having a petty argument as if it was a be or end all in their friendship. It was actually a good form of entertainment, seeing how riled up Damon had gotten simply because of something that Jamie joked in an interview.

Once he had finished talking, our eyes connected, uncertainty clouded in his eyes as he searched for the reason behind him needing to come over. "Y/N, why did you ask me to come over?" He said, abrupt, almost as if those words had been lingering at the back of his mind the entire time we had been in one another’s acquaintance; the ease of the sting of words rolling off his tongue softly implied that, perhaps a try to prevent the harshness of the asking from offending me in the slightest. "We haven't seen each other for a year, why now?"

Both gazes never dared to break contact as if we had attempted to communicate telepathically - the ideation of instigating a conversation as awkward as how this had become, the two of us simply wanting the ground to swallow us whole. His gaze had the ability to put me into a trance upon which I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else except for the utter magnificence that was birthed into his loving eyes. Inhaling sharply, I tried to collect the thoughts in my brain that had been travelling in all directions, searching for all sorts of different possibilities that the conversation could reach. "Can we give it a second chance?" I asked absentmindedly, the realisation of what had just rolled off my tongue not settling in my mind until his eyes widened, speechless and shocked at my sudden questioning.

Sighing, he cocked his head to the side. “Love, we didn't work out the first time..." he began, my heart dropping to my stomach as the thought of him breaking my heart again entered my mind. His expression quickly softened once he saw my face drain colour, explaining all that he needed to know about how I had coped since he had left the picture. "I don't want to hurt you again."

Breaking away from the stare, I gawked at the dark shades of red that had adorned the transparent glass clasped in my palm. Holding in my emotions wasn’t going to do me any justice, and since he was here, it would not make sense for me to stupidly avoid the whole reasoning behind me needing him inside my apartment after so long. “It’s been so hard trying to get over you,” I mumbled, my voice almost inaudible out of embarrassment, though I knew he could hear me. “I need you.”

What I didn’t see from my shameful gaze at the ground, was the miniscule beam that broke out across Damon’s features. What I was unaware of, my body encompassed in such a impotent state of pure isolation, was that Damon had been as dependent on hearing those words escaping my mouth before he could admit the same to himself. Though it had all been answered to me as he softly brought his arm to caress my arm, gently squeezing the skin as a form of reassurance, implying the notion that he understood, that he felt the same way, after all this time. We broke up not because we lost feelings, but because the emotions we carried for one another were too strong to handle, too intense to progress with, that when he was gone for those long hours it had left me in such a stupor of helplessness and melancholy that it was unbearable to handle without it tarnishing my health. Unsurprisingly, at this point we knew where the conversation was headed; my desires to be swathed in his arms once again that I had tried so hard to banish to the back of my mind, to the depths of my distant memories in which by reliving such a hug came flooding back, my body leaned into his touch almost instantaneously, a subconscious reflex that I had craved, such an embrace that no other person could give, the mere side hug from him was able to banish all the pain that I had tried so diligently to mask away for the past few months.

We sat there for a short while, taking in the moment as it had played throughout, our breathing syncing together as comfort relished in the atmosphere, our minds now finally at peace while all the conflict that had battled our minds over the time we weren’t together. "Let me come on tour with you." I said, my head resting against his shoulder.

A chuckle erupted out of his throat. “It’s not that easy love.”

"Why can't it be? You're literally the frontman!" I exclaimed, lifting my head off his shoulder to connect eyes with him. "Damon, it would be so fun!" I exclaimed, attempting to encourage him.

It was as if things had mended back together, all the cracks in the pavements had been glued together to mend the time lost, as if it had never occurred. Through all the hardship I had faced trying to find the remedy to my heartache, I was dumbfounded to realise that it had been sitting in front of me, at the top of my phone’s contact list, right in front of my eyes this entire time. His eyes were calling out to me, enveloping my heart in comfort and warmth, the hunger radiating out eager to the ideation of starting anew and preserving the time in which we had lost, building new memories, unfastening the lock on the clock dictating the length of the relationship, allowing it to elongate, carry on as long as we could. My heart brimmed with homeliness - the house I was inside finally feeling normal to me once again.

"I'll see what I can do," he grins, the beautiful sight causing a small smile to erupt on my face as my body melted back into his arms once again. "No promises though."

It felt nice to wake up next to someone again the next morning, on the mattress that once was a carcass of many tears of sadness and melancholy, authentically conveyed by the essence of nihilism embodied from isolation, the kind of philosophical beliefs one could only develop an understanding towards subsequent to irrational thinking as the hours fell still, leaving you sat there, reliving the last moments from your memory bank with the significant other you had soiled ends with, a person who had supported you from the very beginning, even when things formed a bitter congestion to the relationship devoured by both participants, perhaps from the acceleration of argumentation shared, or the distance that had started to weave its way between, leaving you both stranded to conclude, as if you were both on separate, desolate islands fighting against the starvation of progressing through your lives and starting anew, departing from the old knots and attachments formed once epitomising pure adoration and love, though over time spawning to be the offspring of the devil. A person whom you knew would make your bed every morning, cradle you in his arms at the darkest hours to baptise the negativity coiled in your brain, whispering what seems like sweet nothings, merely sounding like soft raspy groans due to them being exhausted out of their mind, but you knew they were saying something to you, you could hear it, acknowledge it in a language that nobody else was able to understand. I relished in concession that he who lay beside me was the one that bestowed and epitomised all the things that I once lacked a night before. A lover.

[sir-subpar]

Fangs And Fur (Bf x Pico oneshot)

Werewolf Au. Because I want to. This was somewhat inspired by an animated short called "Dirty Paws"

*Warning: Swearing and Blood/Gore/Violence. (It's not that bad, but just in case)

Bf and Pico shared jokes and friendly banter as Pico walked Boyfriend home. It was dusk, just barely any sunlight illuminating the neighborhood. The two of them had just finished a dinner date, still laughing and flirting as they walked along the sidewalk on Bf's home street. Some of Boyfriend's neighbors were greeting the boys from their yards as the two passed by. 

Carol, whose house was directly to the left of Boyfriend's, was finishing up watering her yard when she saw her neighbor and his date. "Hey Boyfriend!" Carol greeted them happily. "Hi Carol! How are you?" Boyfriend replied, he and Pico stopping in front of her new painted fence to talk. "I'm good, just relaxing after putting in this darn fence. It took forever, but it's worth it though to keep my little Cocoa Puff safe." Carol gestured to her mini poodle, the little fuzzball had brown curly fur, hence the name Cocoa Puff. "You should probably get a fence too, Bf. There's been a lot more animal attacks happening lately." Carol warned, Bf and Pico shifted with unease. "Yeesh, has it been getting that bad?" The bluette asked nervously. "It's been really bad, Sunday's cat got attacked the other night. Poor little guy was really chewed up by some big animal.." "Oh no! Not Bubsy!" Bf had a soft spot for animals in general, even though he didn't have any pets of his own, he always loved animals. Pico, too, felt bad for the little cat. "Did the cat survive? How bad was it?" Pico asked, never having met Sunday or her cat Bubsy, Bf told him about them before. Sometimes Sunday would ask Bf to babysit her cat when she was on tour, he was really good with Bubsy. Carol gave a look of sympathy, knowing the cat's condition. "He's alive, but it's a long road to recovery." She said dejectedly. "I've been hearing that people are setting traps around here, so keep an eye out for those too. Okay?" "Will do, thanks Carol." Bf replied, Pico only nodded in response. "Anyway, moving on to lighter news.. Are you going to introduce me to your friend here?" Carol lightly teased, tilting her head in Pico's direction. "Oh yeah! Right. Carol, this is Pico!" Bf wrapped his arm around the redheaded man's shoulders, making Pico's face turn pink. A look of recognition flashed onto Carol's features. "Ooooh, so THIS is the boyfriend you're always talking about. It's nice to finally meet you Pico." Carol teased, holding out her hand. Pico felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment before shaking Carol's hand. It was flattering to know that Boyfriend talked about him. "Y-yeah. You too." 

Carol giggled a bit. "Alright, well I'll let you guys enjoy your evening. Have a good one!" Bf waved at her while he and Pico walked up to his porch. Bf held the door open for Pico, but he declined going inside. Bf of course took notice of this, as well as Pico's nervous demeanor.

 "Are you okay, Pico?" 

"Yeah.. I just- I should head home. I had a nice night. Let's go out again soon." Pico gave him a smile that was somewhat forced. "Oh… okay. Well, I'll call you tomorrow then." 

"Yeah, sounds good." Pico gave Bf a kiss on the cheek, then he left. Bf closed his door, he was a little disappointed, if he was honest. He had hoped Pico would stay the night, but it was Pico's choice. It wouldn't have been right to stop him. Bf just decided to chill instead. Sweets and videogames were the perfect cure for disappointment. 

…

Pico rushed home, the sun had already gone down, he didn't have much time. He felt bad. Not just for leaving an obviously dejected Boyfriend, but for being so secretive with him. But he didn't have time for that! He needed to get home and lock up. It was only a matter of time before the moon would show it's Damn face. He dashed down the street , finally getting to the cul de sac he lived on. He ran onto his porch, swinging open his door and slamming it behind him. Just in the nick of time. He collapsed on the floor. His transformation was already taking place. His breathing was heavy, he couldn't help but shout in agony as his body reconfigured itself into its new form. Before he was lost to the lycan curse, however, he had one last horrifying realization. 

He forgot to close the window.

…

It had been a couple of hours, Bf had changed into some comfy clothes and was watching tv on his couch. He couldn't help but think of Pico. It was weird how nervous he suddenly was. Pico had been fine all day, but suddenly he ran off after talking to Carol. Was he really that flustered? It didn't seem like it was a big deal. Surely it was something else, but what? Bf sighed, it wasn't really his business, but he wanted to know what was up. He decided to text Pico. 

Bf: Hey. I had a lot of fun at dinner :) I just wanna see if you're alright, you seemed off earlier. Everything ok?

Thirty minutes went by, and he got no response. 'Maybe he's already asleep?' Boyfriend thought, sure it wasn't super late, but it wasn't unusual for people to sleep at this hour. Boyfriend shut off the tv. Maybe he should just get some air. It was nice out. A nice warm summer night. A walk would do him some good. Sure he was basically in pajamas, with a mismatched t-shirt and sweatpants but who cares? He put his phone and keys in his pockets, and left the house for a walk. His neighborhood was fairly close to a nice wooded area. It wasn't really a forest, but there were wild animals around. Like coyotes and rabbits. He decided to hang out around the trees. He sat down on a stump that had once been a huge cottonwood tree, and he just listened to the noises around him. Crickets and other bugs were chirping and buzzing around. It was oddly serene.At least, it was. Until some rustling in the bushes caught his attention. 

He was startled, frightened even, but then he felt relieved once he realized it was a rabbit. Just a little rabbit. But his levity was short lived when noticed the rabbit was limping. He used his phone's flashlight to get a better look. The poor rabbit was barely able to move, its flesh had been ripped apart, blood soaking its fur, and one of its legs was missing. It trembled and struggled. Boyfriend's heart sank when the realization set in that the poor thing wasn't going to make it. It was suffering, and he hated to see animals suffer. He decided to try and comfort it. The rabbit collapsed, he gently brushed his fingers on its soft little head. The rabbit's breathing was still panicked, but it was too weak to do anything. He considered killing it to end its misery, but before he could, he heard snarling coming from the bush. He quickly shined the light on it, just in time to see the snout of a larger animal swiftly bite the rabbit. 

Bf jumped back in fear. The animal stalked out of the bushes that had hidden it, revealing a large orangish red wolf.  The rabbit, the wolf's prey, was still in its jaws. The small rodent fell limb as the wolf's fangs sunk into its body. Bf could hear the bones crack. It didn't take long for the wolf to completely devour the rodent. Bf froze. Should he run? Would the wolf want him? He couldn't help but tremble at the large beast before him. Then it looked at him. Its eye bore into his soul. Focused. It watched him intently. Bf stayed still. Maybe if he didn't make any sudden movements, it would move on. It approached him slowly, circling him. It then got closer, inspecting him with its nose. It seemed particularly drawn to his pocket. Bf slowly reached into his pocket, the wolf allowed it, watching him. Bf pulled out a small bag of chocolate chip cookies. He had forgotten that he put those there. The wolf's ears perked up a bit, and it tilted it's head. 

"Is this what you want?" The Wolf kept its eyes locked on the bag. "I'm not sure if you should have this, it has chocolate in it. Pretty sure dogs can't have that." The wolf growled, seeming to not take "no" as an answer. "Okay okay! Fine! They're yours!" Bf reached into the bag, then tossed a cookie at the wolf. The treat hit its nose before falling on the ground. The wolf appeared displeased with the assault on its nose, giving a huff before eating the cookie. "Well sorry, it's not my fault you're clumsy and didn't catch it." Bf said sarcastically. The wolf looked at him again, it wanted more treats. Bf tossed another cookie, this time aiming in front of the wolf so he didn't hit its nose again. The beast seemed content with that. So Bf kept doing it until he ran out. 

The canine's demeanor had thankfully shifted, it seemed more docile after being fed. Boyfriend had calmed down significantly, no longer fearing for his life. "Well, it was nice to meet you… wolf. I'm gonna go home. I've had enough excitement today." Bf turned away from the orange/red animal, trusting that it wouldn't pounce on him while his back was turned. As he walked away, he could hear two pairs of footsteps behind him. He looked back to confirm that the wolf was following him. When he stopped, the wolf halted, when he moved, the wolf followed. "I uh, think you should stay here. Where you live. I'm going home." Bf tried again to leave, the wolf followed him anyway. "No. You stay. I go." Bf tries using hand gestures to get the animal to listen, but to no avail. Bf picked up a stick and threw it. It didn't seem to interest the wolf, but the stick accidentally hit some small animal Bf hadn't noticed before. That got the wolf's attention. As the large mammal attacked the unfortunate stick receiver, Bf took the opportunity to run home. He managed to make it to his house and close the door. Bf leaned against the wood, sliding down till he hit the carpet. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. After he had calmed down, astonishment took over. He just fed a wolf. And he didn't die! He was like Snow White! Holy crap!

Bf eventually stood up and moved to the couch. Deciding that maybe he should relax for a bit. He started channel surfing on his TV, settling on a random cartoon that was on. He could feel his tense muscles relaxing a bit. He let out a sigh of relief. 

…

He had gotten through a few episodes when he heard something. Something outside.

*SCRATCH SCRATCH*

He muted the tv. No way. There's no way this was happening.

*SCRATCH SCRATCH SCRATCH*

It followed him home. 

He could hear the clawing getting faster. Impatient. Instead of following common sense, he decided to open the door. His motion triggered porch light shone on the wolf's red/orange fur. It's white eyes bore into his soul again. Bf stepped aside, allowing the beast into his house. The wolf strutted in, immediately smelling anything and everything it could. It didn't seem aggressive, just curious. Bf filled a bowl with water and set it on the floor. Might as well hydrate his new houseguest. Eventually his fears dissipated. He went back to the couch, watching the wolf as it wandered around his living room. He watched the tv again, laying down across the sofa comfortably. 

And, before he could prepare for it, he was suddenly smothered by orange fur. The wolf had kept onto the sofa, laying on top of the blue haired man. He tried to push the wild dog off of him, but he couldn't budge it. This was his life now. He was a man-sized dog's couch cushion now. He didn't know wolves could get this big now that he thought about it. But it didn't matter. He was stuck. This was the predicament he was in. He gave up. The dog had won. Despite the animal's weight, he managed to fall asleep. It was warm and fluffy, so it wasn't so bad.

…

The rising sun peeked through the blinds, illuminating Bf's face, waking him up. He shifted a little, still feeling the warm mass on top of him. He yawned, his eyes still closed. He petted the wolf on top of him, his fingers gently brushing its soft skin- wait a second. His eyes shot open. 

"Pico!?" 

The man jolted awake after hearing his name. Pico looked at Bf with wide eyes. His face turned almost as red as Bf's signature hat. The two stared in silence for what felt like forever before Boyfriend broke it.

"You owe me an explanation."

"Can I borrow some clothes first?"

"Please do."

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of All Saiyans

-

Masterlist

-

Chapter 10 is finally here. Something I noticed while working on this chapter is when I'm writing as the narrator. I use Goku and Kakarot interchangeably. I looked back into the other chapters and noticed I've been doing that the entire time. I honestly just write whichever name feels natural in the context. I think I'll continue writing like that. I think it's more fun switching up Goku's name every once in a while. As always, if you have any comments or questions, feel free to let me know.

-

Chapter 10

-

You and Goku sit on opposite ends of the ditch. The choice to sit as far away from him as possible was strictly for your own sanity. You can feel his scolding gaze on you, burning holes through the entirety of your body, making your skin crawl. 

You've been desperately attempting to evade eye contact with the defective Saiyan, which is becoming significantly more strenuous with each second that passes. Goku lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Can we at least sit closer together?"

You turn your head at him, narrowing your eyes. "No, Kakarot."

Goku presses his thumb and index finger together, leaving a tiny hole. He brings the flexed hand up to his eye, looking at you through the minuscule opening. "What about this much closer?"

"No." Your gaze remains locked on him, with a deadpan look on your face.

"But why not?" He wines as you begin to massage your temples. If he keeps this up, the two of you won't survive down here together for much longer. You're ninety-nine percent sure that being stuck with Kakarot will somehow be the greatest adversity of your life. Okay, so maybe you're being just a tad bit overdramatic. 

"Because I don't trust myself not to kill you." You snarl at him. Your composure is dangling by a thin thread, and Goku is an extremely sharp pair of scissors.

Your words seem to have shut Goku up, well, at least for a little while. "Hey Y/N?"

You ball your hands into fists, clenching your jaw as your right eye begins to spasm. You're developing an eye twitch. How lovely. "What is it now, Kakarot?"

"How did you do that thing with your eyes?"

You furrow your brows at the younger Saiyan. "What the hell are you talking about?" You're really starting to get fed up with him, and you've only been trapped down here for around fifteen minutes.

"Your eyes turned red when you were fighting that guy." Your eyes widen before you quickly cover up your shock with a scowl. Fuck. You knew you should've kept your temper under control. How could you have been so stupid?

Lucky for you, Kakarot is a moron. He lacks understanding regarding body language and various emotion cues. It shouldn't be difficult for you to get out of this at all. "Your eyes were just playing tricks on you. Your vision was probably strained from traveling for such an extended amount of time. My eyes did not, nor have they ever changed color."

"But, I saw---" 

"Well, you saw wrong!" You take several deep breaths, attempting to regain your composure. Spoiler alert, it doesn't work. "I can't take this anymore!" You've finally snapped, but to be fair. You lasted much longer than you expected. "Stop asking me a million questions! No, you know what. Stop speaking to me in general! You are the most infuriating---"

Amidst your screaming, Goku jumps up, pulling you into a far corner of the trench. One of his hands is placed over your lips. And his other arm is tightly wrapped around your waist, his hand ghosting over the base of your tail. Your back is pressed up against the rocky wall, and you feel like his larger body is engulfing your form entirely. You glare at him in irritation as an oddly serious expression crosses Goku's face. 

"I'm gonna take my hand away. Be quiet and focus for a minute." He moves his hand, resting it comfortably on your side. It's placed directly on your wound, courtesy of your battle with Burter. You bite your lip, preventing yourself from wincing. Even the smallest amount of pressure is causing you severe pain. Maybe your injury is worse than you presumed. 

You shut your eyes partly to distract yourself from the pain, but the main objective is to focus on the energy around you. There's someone out there, and they're powerful too. That has to be Ginyu. Shit, your explosive outburst could have just gotten you both killed. What is wrong with you today? 

Where you're standing in the pit. There's still a patch of grass over the top. Providing a shield from anything or anyone from the outside. You hate to admit it, but this was actually a wise decision on Goku's part. Never did you think that Kakarot would be the one to remain collective while you're the one behaving recklessly.  

The two of you remain pressed up against each other. Frankly, you're too close for comfort. You can feel every fall and rise of his chest. You can even hear his heartbeat, which is thumping just as rapidly as your own. The sound of Ginyu's faint murmuring invades your ears, though you can't hear anything he says clearly. He must be too far away.

You try to keep your erratic breathing under control, which stems from both pain and nerves. Your surroundings grow quiet, and Ginyu's energy disappears altogether. He must have left. You finally have room to breathe as Goku takes a few steps back, distancing himself from you. His eyes scan your face before quickly darting down to one of his hands. Specifically, the one that's now covered in your blood. His eyes go-round as he moves closer, invading your personal space once again. "Are you hurt?"

His tone lacks his typical cheery nature, causing you to tilt your head upward, your brain desperately attempting to form a contingency plan to get you out of this mess. "I'm fine." Goku makes you uneasy. He's nothing like a Saiyan should be. His behavior is all over the place, and not a single one of his actions adds up in your realm of logic. Out of all the ruthless and sadistic Saiyan's that could've survived, never in a million years did you expect one as pathetic as Kakarot to live.

"But, you're bleeding." This timid side of Goku is somehow worse than his typical cheerful self. You didn't think he could disgust you further, but once again, that defect proves you wrong.

You suppress an eye roll, keeping your piercing gaze locked on him. If you were to look away now, it would appear like you were backing down. And you refuse to let a fool like Kakarot win. "It's not my blood, Kakarot." Hopefully, he'll fall for your lies and drop this pointless conversation here.

"If it's not your blood, then let me see." He moves his hands to your hips, clawing at the bottom of your chest plate.

You grab his wrist, pushing them away. The two of you continue going back and forth, gripping and pushing at each other. It's been a while since someone challenged you like this, one on one. No one back on the Frieza Force would have dared to go against your wishes. Goku's different from them. He's not afraid of you, and it doesn't seem that he'll give up anytime soon. You would've never pegged Kakarot for the stubborn type. Maybe there's still a bit of true Saiyan nature in him, after all. And as infuriating as he is, you can't say you're disappointed. "Knock it off, Kakarot!" 

"Stop being such a baby, and let me help you." If you were in a public setting, those passing by might have believed you were a couple. Having one of those sweet but sicking play fights. While in reality, that was far from the truth. This proves just how thin the line between love and hate truly is. 

"I don't want your help!" You stop fighting him, crossing your arms over your chest, denying him access to your upper half. 

You thought you had outsmarted him, that was until his hands landed on the sides of your top. "Fine. I'll just tear your armor off then."

You stare at him in disbelief. "Do you have no boundaries?" He has to be bluffing, right? No one could be this shameless. However, the look on his face, mixed with his grip on your top tightening, tells you a whole different story. He's serious about this. "Wait---" You place one of your hands on his chest. "If you back off, and shut up. I'll take it off."

He complies with your terms, stepping back, pressing his lips into a thin line. Your hands are violently shaking as you slowly move them to the corners of your chest piece. You've stripped your armor off in front of Raditz, Nappa, and Cado a million times before. So why does this feel so different?

You steadily pull your tunic above your head, slipping your chest piece off your body, leaving you in your nylon blue sports bra. And it really doesn't leave much to the imagination. You turn your head, finally getting to see the wound yourself. It's much deeper than you thought, but due to your Saiyan genetics, it's already healing quite nicely. "Are you pleased? Now, will you finally shut up?"

Feeling self-conscious from his gaze, you cross your arms over your chest again. "No. Why would I be happy about this? It looks, really, bad Y/N." Why does he care about your physical condition? At the end of the day, you're enemies, and your nauseating alliance is only temporary. You just don't understand him. You can't read him either, so you have no clue what he'll do next. And it's driving you mad. 

"Wait." He grins. "I brought Senzu Beans with me." A Senzu what now? Those must be those healing beans he gave Krillin and Gohan back on Earth. He searches his pockets, only to come up empty-handed. He grabs his head as a look of realization crosses his features. "I'm so stupid. I left them on the ship."

Well, there's one thing you both agree on, Kakarot does have a moronic nature. "Hey, relax. I'm fine, Kakarot." You wrap your tail around your waist, applying pressure to your wound. "This is all I need to do. I've done this several times before, and look, I'm still standing, aren't I?"

Your assurance doesn't seem to be enough for Goku. "Please--- just let me help you." He's pleading with you. Does he really have no ulterior motives? Does he really just want to help you? You'd typically laugh at someone pleading with you, but when it's from him. It makes you uncharacteristically sad.

Those puppy dog eyes should be illegal. You swear Goku would be able to make you do anything just with that one look. "O-Ok." Did you seriously just agree? How can a simple glance make you so weak? An expression like that would typically make you sick. Maybe the amount of blood you've lost has made you delirious. That's a plausible explanation. You're clearly doing everything under Namek's three suns to evade the possibility that these new strange feelings could be your own mind's fabrication. 

He removes the cord holding his gi together, causing the orange fabric to hang loose. You now have a clear view of his torso, revealing the blue undershirt that was once hidden under his gi. He slips the shirt off, ripping the bottom of his shirt into strips. "You know I might not be the smartest guy in the world. But I do know that you have to keep wounds clean to avoid infection." He kneels in front of you, giving himself easier access to your side. You don't mind. Him leaning down to help you would've probably made you even more flustered. 

His hand brushes against your tail, causing you to jump. He stares at you in alarm. "Sorry, I forgot that hurts you."

"I-It didn't hurt. I trained myself out of that weakness a long time ago. It's just a sensitive area still." He nods as you uncoil your tail, giving him direct access to your injury. He wraps the strips of cloth around your torso. The fabric is in replacement of a bandage, not bad for a makeshift patch-up at all. You've seen Nappa and Raditz do much worse.

Goku stands back up, tying his gi back together. "See. Good as new." That dopey smile on his face really makes you want to punch him. His facial expression may be causing you mild irritation, and his words had no humor to them, but you can no longer hold back your fit of laughter that is now escaping your lips. "What's so funny?"

"You are."

He pouts, which only makes you laugh more. "I'm not funny."

"Oh, yes you are, Kakarot. Everything about your existence is either. A. amusing or B. irritating." You're about to berate him even further, but you stop yourself. Someone is standing directly above you, and It isn't Ginyu this time. Their power level is far too low. It's not anyone you're currently aligned with either. By now, you know Vegeta's power level by heart, and you were able to memorize the other's energy levels during your previous encounter with them. So it's best to assume that above you is one of Frieza's minions. 

You do have a weapon at your disposal. No one knows that Goku is here except for you. And you intend to use that piece of knowledge to your advantage. You grab his wrist, pulling Goku back to the wall, successfully switching positions with him.

 You look up, getting a good look at the figure above you. Just your luck, it's Jeice. What's next? Will a scorned, old flame of yours show up in an attempt to win you back? Or will Frieza show up for a tea party?

Sadly, it's too late for you to duck back into the corner. That prick already saw you. You move out into the open, keeping Jeice off Kakarot's scent. A self-satisfied grin appears on Jeice lips as he admires your practically bare torso. "Hello, love. You having fun down there?"

"Oh, it's a real party, Jeice." His gaze makes your skin crawl differently. Kakarot's makes you nervous, but Jeice's makes you want to hurl.  

"I have to say, Y/N. I am surprised you'd fall for something so simple-minded."

You turn your head, subtly glaring at Goku. "You're right. That's not like me at all. I must have had a severe lapse in judgment."

"Well, gorgeous. Looks like today's your lucky day. I'll pull you up, but under one condition." You wouldn't accept his aid even if there wasn't a catch. You'd rather spend an eternity in the pit with Kakarot than owe Jeice any favors. "All you have to do is betray Vegeta, re-pledge your allegiance to Lord Frieza, and of course, become my wife."

You scoff, shaking your head. "Ya, no chance in hell I'm doing any of that."

"Oh, come on, Y/N. You'd rather be stuck down there, all alone. Then be with me."

"I wish I was alone right now." You mutter to yourself. Whether this statement was directed at Jeice of Goku is unclear, but it's most likely the latter.

He moves his hand to his scouter. "I didn't quite catch that Y/N. Was that your native tongue? Or were you just whispering?"

"I said I'd rather rot down here! And by the way, the only thing less appealing than death on this shitty planet would be marrying you."

He scowls at you. "I was trying to play nice, but now I see that's not a viable option. So if you insist you'd rather die down there, I won't be the one to stop you. Just know, you lost your only chance of leaving this damn rock alive." He takes off, now in an irritable mood. Maybe you should've played nice and asked him about Vegeta and the others. It probably doesn't matter either way. Who's to say Jeice would've told the truth.

Goku walks over to you, sheepishly handing you your chest piece. You find him much less irritating now. It turns out Kakarot isn't the worst being you could've been trapped with. It could've been much worse. You could be stuck down here with Jeice instead.

-

The group of four has covered a lot of ground, considering what terrible shape they're in. Recoome really did a number on them, especially Vegeta. He's limping while the others are still able to walk with only mild discomfort. After Vegeta was down for the count, it took Gohan, Krillin, and Raditz all together to finish Recoome off. Raditz is by far in the best shape of the group. Since he jumped in last, getting the KO. The other three would've been executed without the intervention of the largest Saiyan. And lady luck appeared to be on their side because Jeice fled shortly after Recoome fell. A few weeks ago, this group teaming up would've been unimaginable, former allies, enemies, and friends alike, with the lines between each category, quickly blurring together.

The issue with you suppressing your power level is now more prominent than ever. They can't easily locate you, so a search party is sadly the best they can do. Vegeta knew he should've gotten you chipped when he had the chance. He'd be able to locate you anywhere, anytime he wanted. So what if it violated your privacy. If it was up to Vegeta, you'd be one leash by now.

Gohan turns to his uncle. "Do you think Y/N's alright?"

"She's fine. Y/N's incredibly resourceful. If she couldn't surpass him in strength, she'd be able to easily outwit him. Y/N's always done as she's pleased, so it's not surprising if she got a bit carried away." Raditz knows you're alive. He can feel it. A creature as brain-dead as Burter wouldn't be the one to take you out. You'd definitely go out with a bigger bang.

"Stop the chit-chat, and stay focused!" Vegeta snarls at the uncle-nephew duo.

Raditz lowers his voice to a whisper. "Don't mind him. Vegeta's just worried."

"Shut your damn mouth, Raditz! Before I shut it for you, permanently." Raditz's eyes widen in terror as he frantically restarts his search. Pissing off Vegeta right now would not be an intelligent choice.

They explore another good portion of the planet. The only downside is they haven't found any sign of life. The group was about to pause and rest until a strange ship entered their field of vision. Krillin's eyes widen, a grin spreading across his lips. As he reads the words located on the side of the vessel. He begins sprinting toward the machine with Gohan not far behind. "Capsule Corp! We're saved!" 

Vegeta and Raditz observe the two in bewilderment. Vegeta never thought that Raditz could ever be the second smartest person in his vicinity. Today is just full of surprises. "Slow down, you neanderthals!" Vegeta shouts. "It could be a trap." The two Saiayn's have obviously seen more of the world. Even a fool like Raditz understands protocol about behavior on a foreign planet.

The pair ignore their Saiyan allies. With Krillin entering the ship first. "Goku?" He shouts.

"Dad?" Gohan enters the ship, only to find no sign of his father. The pair begin searching the aircraft, looking for clues to where Goku's whereabouts may be. The two Saiyan's tread carefully into the ship. Nothing seems dangerous at the moment. And they wouldn't put it past Kakarot to abandon the only source of transportation off this damn planet. Gohan furrows his brows. "Where could he have gone?"

"Do you guys think he could've been captured? Krillin's question was directed toward the Saiyan's. Vegeta and Raditz both know what the Frieza Force can do while he and Gohan are basically fish out of water.

"Relax." Raditz is the one to break the silence. "If Kakarot was captured, we'd all already know."

"There would be signs of a struggle. And extreme damage to the outside terrain. Kakarot left on his own accord, now let's go, we now have two fools to find."

Krillin was about to follow Vegeta's orders until his eyes land on a small bag. "Wait." He grabs the bag from the table. "If this is what I think it is--- it is. Leave it to Goku to forget an entire bag of Senzu beans." He pulls one of the green beans out of the bag, tossing it to Gohan and grabbing another for himself. 

He throws the bag at Raditz, who catches it with ease. The Saiyan watches the earthling and half-breed eat them first. Their injuries heal instantly, so it isn't poison. That small fact seems to be enough for Raditz, as he eats one of the beans himself. 

After he heals, he hands the bag to Vegeta. "Wait! Raditz!" Krillin shrieks. He's aware that their alliance is quite temporary and will probably end once they successfully disband the Ginyu Force.

Krillin charges at Vegeta, only to be stopped by Raidtz's hand. Which is placed firmly against his forehead, the Saiyan can hold him back with ease. "Stop. You know we can't do this on our own, even with Kakarot's help. Take it from someone who personally knows Frieza and the Ginyu Force. We need him."

Vegeta holds the Senzu bean in his hand, eyeing it skeptically. Before tossing it in his mouth, chewing it slowly. His eyes flash in amazement as his substantial injuries heal instantly. Even though he's seen the bean work wonders before, he still can't believe its capabilities. 

"Do you guys think that Goku and Y/N could be together?" Krillin's question makes a lot of sense, and unknowingly to him, very accurate. 

Vegeta sighs. "It's a possibility." The idea alone makes Vegeta cringe. Just the possibility of you being alone with Kakarot makes him irritable. 

"Well, if they're together, that's a good thing, right?" Gohan's cheerful voice cuts in. "It should be easier to find them, then."

Raditz snickers. "But, will they both be alive? That's the million-dollar question."

Krillin's eyes widen. It wouldn't surprise him if Goku's personality pushed you over the realm of sanity. He sometimes even feels like he's losing his mind when he's with his childhood friend. "Good point. If that's the case, we better step up our game."

The group of four exits the ship, continuing their search. And it doesn't take long for them to discover something else that stops them in their tracks. They located Burter's corpse, more specifically a headless Burter. Decapitation seems to be your go-to method of execution today. It's good to mix things up once in a while.

"Well, it looks like we know what happened here." You jump up in the pit. You'd recognize that voice anywhere. As always, your big brother, Vegeta, comes to your rescue.

"Vegeta! Get me the hell out of here!" Vegeta furrows his brows, desperately looking in all directions. He flys up to get a birds-eye view of the landscape. A higher altitude should be beneficial in tracking you down.

As soon as you hear Vegeta's obnoxious laughter, you know he's found you. He lands on the side of the dip in the ground. "Looks like you're in quite the predicament there, baby sister!" You've never been happier to see that arrogant smirk before in your life. 

"Vegeta, come on, get me out of here! I can't take another second of this torture."

"I don't know." Vegeta rubs his chin. "You did leave me alone, with those three idiots. Maybe I should leave you down there with Kakarot so you can learn a lesson."

"Come on, Vegeta. You know we don't have time for this." Raditz places a large branch in the pit. You should easily be able to climb up it. The barrier is only activated for those inside the hole. So it should cause a rift when something is poking out of it.

You place your hands on the wood as you start shimming upwards. You wince in pain, stumbling a bit. Your injury must be affecting you more than you thought. Goku quickly grabs you, placing his hands on your hips holding you in place.

"D- Don't touch me!"

Goku sighs. Your hot and cold behavior is really confusing to him. "I was just trying to help you. You were gonna fall."

"As we discussed before. I don't want your help." You pull yourself up the rest of the way up, rushing to Raditz. You wrap your arms around the giant, desperately clinging to him. "I take back every bad thing I've ever said about you."

Raditz furrows his brows, looking over your head at his brother, who had just climbed back to the surface. "God, Kakarot. What did you do to her?"

"Relax, you drama queen. You were only down there for about an hour or so." Vegeta pulls you off Raditz as your hand quickly lands over the sight of your wound. There's no need to worry Vegeta about this. It's just a minor scratch, that's all. He scans his eyes over your from, checking for any irregularities. "No injuries. All your limbs are intact. I'm surprised."

"Well, actually---" You slap Goku's leg with your tail, causing him to yelp out in pain. 

"Yep, I'm all good." You plaster an ingenuine smile on your face.

Gohan, Krillin, and Goku all have a little reunion. The rest of you will not take any part in that conversation. Kakarot's arrival isn't something to celebrate. He won't be your saving grace. "So, what's our next move?" Raditz turns to Vegeta. It's almost like nothing has changed. Like you've stepped into a time machine and went back to a much simpler time. Back when things were much less complicated.

"We go find Ginyu and Jeice too." Vegeta turns to you. "That red menace got away."

"I know. Jeice paid Kakarot and me a visit. Putting it simply, he's not gonna be in very high spirits."

Raditz chuckles. "Well, getting turned down so many times can't be good for his ego. Especially by the ice princess."

"She's far from an ice princess. Saiyan-wise, my sister is actually quite friendly. Out of our entire bloodline, I'd say she has the best people skills. She knows how to work a crowd. That's why our father wanted to put her in charge of foreign affairs."

"Was that a compliment, Vegeta?"

"I wouldn't dare." He pauses, turning to the other three. "Alright, let's get this over with. I don't want to spend any more time with you fools than necessary."

-

The group is finally reunited. But what does Captain Ginyu have in store for our heroes? And will Jeice ever get Y/N's attention? Find out in the next chapter of The Princess of All Saiyans..

[walviemort]

Fairy Godfather, part 1

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He's been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: As usual, the muse has gone off and done whatever it wants to do, rather than, y'know, work on a WIP. Alas. The idea for this came about when I sent @sancocnutclub​ this picture of a woman who was supposedly pregnant with 10 babies; it has since come out as a hoax, but dang—her BUMP. Subsequent doodling and headcanoning brought about this story (also partly inspired by a conversation with SherlockianWhovian a while back), and here we are! I should note that this also takes place after a couple of past one-shots, which can be found here and here. Hope you like it!

rated T / 3k words / AO3

Of all the requests put in front of Killian in his long life, this was by far the oddest.

“You want me...to carry babies...for how many of you?” he asked, trying to wrap his head around the query.

“Nine,” Blue answered matter-of-factly. “Normally, it wouldn’t be so many, but we’re past due for a brood. There was just no one around who we thought could handle it.”

“And he can?” Emma was at his side in the booth at Granny’s, where Blue and Tink had requested to meet with them. Their daughter, Hope, was sitting in the high chair at the end of the table, making a mess of some oatmeal. 

“It helps if they’ve given birth before,” Tink replied. Well, he had done that—not intentionally, but he had been the one to carry and birth Hope, who was 10 months old now.

And while it had ended up being a beautiful experience, he obviously had reservations. “Yes, but that was only one baby—and you genuinely think I can handle nine?”

“We do,” Blue confirmed. “And we’d obviously provide as much help as we can.”

“It also wouldn’t be like a normal human pregnancy,” Tink added. “No morning sickness or cravings, or anything like that.”

“No, I’d just be massive,” he sighed; memories of his own perceived whale-like proportions toward the end of his pregnancy with Hope were still fresh; this had potential to put that to shame.

“Well, fairy newborns are smaller than the average human infant—less than 4 pounds. But yes, you would go full term.” Blue was awfully clinical in her statements.

Killian glanced down at his midsection, which had yet to fully regain its previous flatness, and he doubted it ever would. Especially not if he agreed to this. “I’m really your only option?” he asked again. “What about David?”

“It’s too soon,” Blue answered. David gave birth a couple months prior to their daughter Ruth, and as promised, Killian was at his side. However, he’d had to have a C-section, which slowed his recovery a bit compared to Killian’s. “And it must be done at the upcoming winter solstice, or we’ll have to wait another few years.”

Killian was about to suggest that until Tink jumped in. “Plus, you kind of still owe us for the whole hat thing.”

“That was the Dark One and you know it,” Emma snapped back, but they both knew Killian still harbored a fair amount of guilt over that. It was a low blow on their part, but not undeserved. 

She most likely saw the acceptance in his eyes when they exchanged a glance, but he also saw she wasn’t quite there. “Does it really have to be a guy?” she enquired, turning back to the fairies. “I mean, there are lots of women here who meet your criteria, too.”

“It does,” they said simultaneously, though Tink at least looked somewhat apologetic. 

Emma was ready to protest again, but he put his hand over hers on the table and told her with a look that it was okay. She reclined in her seat while he turned back to the pair. “I’ll agree, but with one condition: you’ll have to help pick up my slack—around town and at home,” he said evenly. He was sure he’d get to a point when it wasn’t feasible for him to continue as deputy, or at the library, or even keep up with Hope, who was dangerously close to walking. 

“Actually, one more,” Emma added. “He’s not on the hook for any, like, actual fatherhood, right? You won’t be coming after him for child support or anything?”

“No, he's simply the surrogate,” Blue confirmed. 

“And we’ll definitely help out—whatever you need,” Tink added. 

Emma gave him a tentative but supportive look. “Then I’ll do it,” he told them. 

“Excellent,” Blue stated with less enthusiasm than he expected. “We’ll send you more information soon, but the most important thing is to be at the convent next Saturday. Green,” she then turned to Tink, “come; we have much to do to prepare.” (Which was a polite way of asking her to slide out of the booth first.)

Tink rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’ll text you,” she said, and the two flitted out of the diner.

Killian and Emma were silent for a long moment after they left, other than making sure some oatmeal actually ended up in Hope’s mouth. 

Emma started to clean up the baby and then said, “I know it’s too late now, but are you sure about this?”

“Not entirely,” he confessed, “but they were right—I do owe them.”

“You don’t,” Emma said matter-of-factly, “even though I know you think you do.” She wiped the mess off Hope’s face. “But if this will finally relieve some of that guilt, then I get it, and I’ll support you.”

“Thank you, love,” he sighed, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m going to need it, I think.”

“Oh, you are,” she said wryly. “And you should probably start planning how you’ll tell my dad.”

“Bloody hell,” he cursed, then dragged a hand down his face. “He’s going to be relentless.” What had been playful ribbing during their respective pregnancies was likely about to be amplified. 

“Maybe you can talk to Belle? See if she knows anything on what to expect? Pun not intended.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he agreed, then followed Emma as she slipped out of the booth. He pulled Hope from the high chair and settled her in his left arm, then grabbed her diaper bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Guess we’ll pick her brain now. See you later.” They kissed farewell and headed off to their respective jobs that day—Emma at the station, Killian at the library, where he’d taken something of an assistant librarian position (and could keep an eye on Hope and her “cousin” Gideon in between reshelving and assisting patrons).

Belle was surprised when he told him about the morning’s turn of events, but then got an almost academic excitement. “I can’t say I know much about their physiology, and I didn’t know this about their reproduction, but let’s see if we have anything.”

She dove into research while he took care of normal library functions, but by midday, didn’t have much to show for it. 

“They’re so secretive! Obviously their existence is documented, and there’s mention of someone other than Blue being in charge at some point in the past, and that their young mature faster than average, but that’s it. What did they tell you?”

“Not much,” he answered, relaying what little he’d been told. “But they did call it a ‘brood’, so it sounds like multiples are common. Just not quite so many.”

“Do you think they’d let me take notes?” she wondered. “It’s not like there's any research journals on magical beings I could submit a paper to, but more for my own study.” 

“If they don’t let you, I won’t do it,” he commented. “Do you still have everything from last time?” She’d done quite a bit of documentation on his first pregnancy, considering it was the product of a misunderstood spell.

“Of course; David’s, too.” Then she laughed. “Of all the things I imagined becoming an expert in, magical male pregnancy was not one of them.”

“Someone had to,” he countered.

“That’s true!”

---------------------------------------------------------

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful, save for a text from Tink telling them when to arrive at the convent, and to make sure he ate lots of greens and wore something comfortable (which he took to mean stretchy). And they assented to Belle’s presence, too, which didn’t change anything but did make him feel more at ease.

David was something between amused and horrified about what Killian had agreed to, but ultimately glad they hadn’t asked him.

The afternoon of the solstice, before they headed to the convent, Belle took some notes and measurements of Killian as a baseline for her study—and honestly, he was kind of glad, if the proportions on this were going to be as overlarge as he expected. “How big do they make those maternity pants?” he asked Emma as Belle was making note of his waist size (not significantly larger than it used to be, he was at least proud to say). 

Emma’s eyes grew large. “I don’t know; I think the fairies are gonna have to help with that one.”

“Let’s hope that’s a ways off, then,” he settled. 

They dropped Hope off at Snow and David’s on their way to the convent, where they were greeted by Blue herself. She ushered them in without a word, and a couple other fairies were there to gather their belongings, before Blue guided them further into the building. Killian was both surprised and not to see that they were all in their traditional attire, though he was a bit shocked that they were all still large and not the miniscule size they were known for. Belle had had a similar question a few days ago; they’d ask at some point. 

They were led into a large, candlelit room, where Tink suddenly appeared in front of him. “Drink this,” she commanded, holding a mug of steaming liquid, “and take off your shirt.”

“Is that necessary?” he asked as he took the mug.

“I mean, I already know what’s under there, so I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t,” she countered with a wink.

He complied with a sigh. The drink was a potion of some sort, he gathered almost immediately; a warm, tingly feeling took over his body as he drank it, eventually settling in his stomach, which made sense. Weirdly, though, when he removed his tshirt, there was a slight glow under the skin of his abdomen. (Belle was off to the side, furiously taking notes; Emma was next to her, trying to keep a straight face and surreptitiously taking pictures.)

Blue was watching a clock, and when it struck a seemingly random time—the peak of the solstice—she began chanting in a tongue he didn’t quite recognize, with others gradually joining in and forming a circle around him. The glow under his skin got brighter, especially in his midsection, although he didn’t feel any different—yet.

“Human,” Blue finally addressed him. “You have agreed to be the vessel for our young. Do you promise to protect them with your life, and care for them until they are ready to join our world?”

“I...yes,” he answered, as confidently as he could manage. “I will.”

Blue continued briefly in the foreign tongue, as did the others. “Now, let the gravidation commence.”

One of the fairies approached him with her hands cupped as the rest continued to chant; she was dressed all in pink, and he thought he’d seen her spending time with Grumpy on occasion. As she got closer, he saw a small ball of pink light pulsing her palm that she was murmuring to, until she was close enough to touch him. 

And she did, guiding the ball of light toward his navel and then—it disappeared inside him as she pressed her hands against his stomach. He felt a small twinge inside as it settled within, but no pain—just a spark. The glow from his midsection briefly took on a pinkish hue, but then returned to the white color it had been emanating.

Each of the nine fairies did the same thing, one by one. He did wonder how it was decided who would be reproducing, given that there were far more than nine fairies present, but that was another question for a later date. They appeared before him in all colors of the spectrum—purple, seafoam, navy, yellow, fuschia—and then Tiger Lily’s deep orange joined the array of hues, followed by Tink’s bright green.

Blue was the last to approach, and her orb seemed to be the biggest of them all, which he supposed was no surprise. However, her hands lingered on his abdomen and she continued to chant, the intensity and volume increasing as everyone’s voices joined in.

He suddenly felt a slight cramp within—still nothing painful, but like his insides were being gently rearranged, which they probably were. Then his stomach glowed brighter, casting all the colors of the fairies whose offspring he was now carrying around the room.

“Gods above, watch over this man; let he be exalted among the fairies, and let no harm befall him nor our bairns,” Blue called out with a sense of finality.

The glow grew brighter, until it was too bright for him to look at, but then was gone in a flash. The fairies gave a collective hum that seemed to resolve the ceremony, and then began to file out of the room, although Tink approached and wrapped him in a soft robe.

He felt...he wasn’t sure. Content, at the very least, but also like he might float away were it not for the sensation of a weight within him holding him down. His hand drifted to his midsection, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was ever so slightly rounder than it was before he arrived; with nine babies in there, he supposed that made sense. He couldn’t feel any sensations of kicking yet, but it was probably too early—and honestly, he still kind of tingled all over. The analytical side of him wondered where they would be considered in their development relative to a human fetus—and if they’d even show up on an ultrasound.

“How are you doing, Captain?” Blue was still in front of him, but in the afterglow (literally) of the spell, he’d lost sense of anything else around him.

“I’m good,” he answered. “Possibly too good.”

Blue gave a small, knowing smile. “That tends to happen. Come, let’s sit; you must have more questions.” She gestured toward the door the fairies had exited out of and then moved toward it herself, expecting him to follow.

Emma was suddenly at his side, and Belle not far behind. “You okay?” she asked, brow furrowed in concern.

“I seem to be,” he replied. “Have I ever told you how bloody beautiful you are?”

She grinned, amused. “Many times. What was in that cup?”

“Potion of some sort,” he shrugged as she started pushing him in the direction of the door. “Why?”

“Seemed like some really potent potables,” she quipped. Yeah, he did feel a little drunk.

He somehow ended up on a very plush couch, with Emma on one side and Belle on the other, sitting across from Blue, Tink, and Tiger Lily. Someone gave him a glass of water, and there was food on a coffee table, but he wasn’t much hungry. 

Honestly, he was mostly fascinated with the stained glass windows in the room, and with inspecting whatever was going on in his stomach, until he did hear Belle ask a pertinent question:

“So why men?”

“Well, we’re all women,” Blue answered. “It does take two.”

“But I thought you said he was just a surrogate,” Emma countered. “Are these actually his babies? Because we didn’t agree to that.”

“No, they’re not; I suppose in modern terms, you’d say that we reproduce asexually. But nature still seems to demand the involvement of a man and a woman. So that’s why a willing male carries the brood.”

“Are there always so many?” Belle asked.

“No; usually only 4 or 5. But no one was available at the last solstice.”

Killian didn’t really pay attention to the next several questions regarding fairy reproduction—he’d read Belle’s notes later when he was a bit more focused—but he did eventually get to interject one of his own: “Why are you big right now, though? And why aren’t the babies going to be tiny?”

The fairies chuckled—he supposed his statement wasn’t as coherent as it sounded in his head—but still replied. “Shrinking is an acquired skill,” Tink said. “That’s why we weren’t small when we didn’t have our powers,” she explained, nodding at Tiger Lily. 

“But once we learn, it’s our preferred size,” Blue added. “It’s easier to do our job then.”

That made sense. 

“So, what else can he expect,” Emma asked. “I know you said it’d be different, but how much?”

“Well, the size, obviously—and you will still gain weight to support that,” Blue explained. “Increased appetite is to be expected, but no cravings or anything like that.”

“Your hormones will be altered, similar to a normal pregnancy,” Tiger Lily added. “But that just helps the body prepare for birth.”

“Bloody hell, what will that be like?” he wondered aloud. 

“Nowhere near as difficult,” Blue laughed. 

“Wait—if my hormones are affected…” He trailed off, remembering how much those threw him for a loop last time—particularly, certain desires. “I can still have sex, right?”

Emma covered her face with her hands at his blunt question, but it was important. 

“Of course,” Blue said plainly. “Do whatever you need to—within reason, of course.”

“Although, don’t forget—you’ll be at least twice as big as last time,” Tink reminded. “At least. That might make it harder.”

More difficult, maybe, but it hadn’t altered either person’s desires the last time around. He turned to give Emma (what he thought was) a salacious look, but she just burst into giggles. 

“Just—listen to your body,” Blue finally said. “For everything: rest, food, activity. The spell you drank will last the whole pregnancy and keep things going. We trust you, though.”

“I’ll guard them with my life,” he said, suddenly emotional, covering his stomach with his hand. 

“Aaaand there’s the hormones,” Emma commented. “Come on; let’s get you home.”

He was suddenly very sleepy. “Aye; that’s a good idea.”

“Yes, he’s going to be tired the next couple of days,” Blue added. “But otherwise—see you in 40 weeks.”

Emma wrapped her arm around him, said goodbye, and poofed them straight back to their bedroom. He was nearly asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, but had one last thing to ask Emma.

“You’ll still find me sexy when I’ve got a big, huge belly, right?”

She kissed his forehead. “Incredibly so. Sleep tight.”

------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez​​​​​​​ @jennjenn615​​​​​​​ @superadam54​​​​​​​ @ashley-knightingale​​​​​​​ @justsomewhump​​​​ @teamhook​​ (let me know if you want a tag!)

[hollyhomburg]

Reasons Wretched and Divine (Part 3)

↪ Genre: hybrid au, polyamory au, Hurt/Comfort, Recovery, pregnancy 

↪ Pairing: dog hybrid! Namjoon x Reader x Golden Retriever! Jimin 

↪ Summary: You live on an isolated but sprawling farm with your abusive husband. But things start to change for the better when you adopt a retired police dog hybrid named Namjoon. 

↪ Tags: Mentions of psychological abuse, physical abuse, concussions, hurt/comfort, hybrid mistreatment, Jimin is a little hopeless, first time saying i love you, heavy kissing/touching over clothes, pregnancy, overprotective namjoon, romanticized farm life.

↪ Song rec: Zero o'clock ~ BTS

↪ W/c: 5.9k

🐾    PART 1   🐾   PART 2  🐾

- Taehyung’s smile, waiting to welcome any hybrid to the farm and offer them a bunk and a cup of tea or coffee, does wonders for your retention rate at the farm.

- Pretty soon more hybrids are staying more nights or asking you how long they can stay. And you always reply “as long as you need too” (though there are a few who just only stay a few days to rest and recuperate and then move on, the deer hybrids are particularly nomadic) but the bunk beds in the first finished barn fill up over the course of the first month. 

- It's you who has the idea to put up ads in newspapers and at bus stops for humans who want to help hybrids but can’t take any in. You get quite a few calls from people who have seen their neighbors beating their hybrids, or who have found injured hybrids along the road. 

- You even get a call from a hospital at one point. Pet stores call too- having picked up hybrids from the streets, or have hybrids that have grown too old- haven’t been adopted after a few months or like they call it ‘excess stock’. Even though it seems horrible to think of them that way, to most of the world hybrids are little more than possessions.  

- You and Namjoon always drive and pick whoever it is up rain or shine. You get calls in the middle of the night and have to leave immediately despite the fact that you’re getting more obviously pregnant day by day, and your baby bump fully visible to outsiders, unconcealable under all but the baggiest of shirts. 

- Namjoon’s slowly growing collection of red flannel shirts (really he only likes the red ones) is your favorite thing to raid on the days that you’re feeling particularly self-conscious about your body. And it always makes your puppy a certain kind of needy, wanting to have you close always (which is a plus, not that you’d ever tell Namjoon what his whines do to you) 

- When it comes to giving up unwanted hybrids, Very few people argue with the crazy pregnant lady and her intimidating hybrid with the scarred face. And if they do argue, a stack of money is usually enough to convince even the most reluctant of people to part with their hybrids. 

- The most you’ve ever had to pay an owner to give up their already unwanted hybrid is around 1,000 dollars, and too you- they’re worth much more than that. to see the way they change when they suddenly find themselves safe for the first time in their lives- it’s priceless to you and namjoon. 

- It breaks your heart when you take them home, and the first few days, where they watch everything like it might disappear, when they walk on eggshells of their old lives, so worried that they’re going to be thrown out. When they hoard food worried it’s going to be taken away, flinch at every raised hand. it breaks your heart, but it also makes you feel accomplished when they slowly start to heal, start to laugh louder than they ever have, start to joke and play over meal times, seak you out for a reassuring heat pet. 

- And although you hold more than a dozen certificates of ownership at a time, you’re clear to any hybrid that walks onto your property that they’re their own person, that they owe you nothing and that their freedom and autonomy will be given the second they ask for it. 

- No matter who they are or where they came from, their age, what kind of ears they have on the top of their heads, they are given a bunk, a fresh change of clothes (or two) and at least 2 meals a day. though- mealtimes are easily the hardest part of your operation and the thing that gives you the biggest headache. Making sure you’ve made enough food for everyone after the bunk beds fill up very very quickly when word starts to get around in the stray community. 

- luckily- you had the forethought to expand your kitchen, and now you have 3 ovens, a larger than average dishwasher, 2 sinks, and industrial-sized refrigerators in the cellar. Meals become the most important and most involved part of your day. You’re thankful that a few of the hybrid who has come to stay with you- particularly the cat hybrids, seems to have a knack for cooking who often let themselves into the first level of your house before the sun rises- their nocturnal inclinations useful for once.

- it’s quite the shock, the first day you walk downstairs at 6am, intent on starting breakfast, only to find 3 cat hybrids- one arrived yesterday- a middle-aged forest cat with little tufts on the end of her ears named Heesun, who is already pressing a warm cup of tea into your hands and telling you to sit down. The rest of the cats buzzing around your kitchen, the smell of frying vegetables and eggs already tickling at your nose. “are you sure you’ve got everything?” 

- “of course! when the others told me that you usually cook the food in the mornings- i didn’t think that was right you see- you’re doing so much for us here- let us do this” you watch as she divides labor, the other two cat hybrids following her lead, you ask, and the hybrid tells you she used to be a cook for the family she used to live with. you don’t ask what emancipated her out of their care, Heesun had shown up on the edge of the farm yesterday with a noticeable limp. 

- It’s not surprising to you that after a few days Heesun asks you if she can become a permanent resident of the farm. Any hybrid is free to leave when they want but most choose to stay and contribute. It’s a little surprising, the first day you walk out your front door to find one of the hybrids sweeping up some leaves, or when one of them comes to get Namjoon’s help repairing the side of one of the barns.

- At first- both of you are adamant apposed to them helping, but Taehyung helps mediate between the main house and the hybrids in the barns. And the 10 or so that have stuck around who express to you that it would make them feel more comfortable staying here if they could help out. 

- And it’s not like you don’t need the help- because really, as the population of the farm exceeds 20, you really really do. 

- They mostly run the chore system themselves, Namjoon and Taehyung keep a running list of chores that need to be done and guide a few groups in the morning that want to work. All hybrids who stay contribute in some way, Weather that is with the bunny hybrids that run around doing laundry and sweeping, and cleaning to their heart's content or the bear hybrids led by Taehyung. Everyone has their jobs. 

- You have three bear hybrids in total, Tae, a small honey-colored bear named Beomgyu, and a panda hybrid named Jackson that help you collect the honey from beehives and sell it at the farmers market. Though Taehyung manages to eat more honey than they sell somehow and is constantly scolded by both Jackson and Namjoon (Even if the beehives where his idea). Most of the time when you see him- Tae has sticky cheeks.

- But Namjoon will basically let Taehyung get away with anything, seeing as the hybrid contributes the most to making the farm run smoothly. Taehyung is always egger to help you with anything that needs to be done unable to keep still. Whether that be runs to the store with you to buy mountains of food needed to feed everyone, Coupon clipping, or the general wrangling and organization. The more technical things, like fixing up some of the other buildings, like the chicken coop and actual animal barns that have fallen into disrepair, are left mostly to namjoon. 

- You’re given nearly 30 chickens and half a dozen sheep by a local after the owners of them get too old to properly take care of them. As much as they’re a headache access to more than three dozen eggs a day helps to cut down the cost of breakfast significantly. And you’re happy with the chickens because at the very least they aerate the soil and keep it free of bugs too, even if it means you need to fence in the vegetable garden that you’re cultivating to keep them away from the tomatoes. 

- Scrambled eggs with bacon, breakfast burritos, frittatas, and fried eggs are some of your breakfast staples. And you get more than a little help from some of the hybrids who have experience in cooking during meal times to feed the nearly 50 occupants of the farm by the end of the second month. 

- You’ve accumulated a few dog hybrids as well, Wide-eyed collie Dahyun, chow-chow Yugyeom, and muscly great-dane hybrid Shownu who help Namjoon whenever something needs to be moved, as well as an assortment of rare breeds like the lone alpaca hybrid Seokjin who takes care of the sheep when you have to shear them and spin the wool into fine quality yarn. 

- Seokjin is a quiet hybrid, uncannily taciturn despite his kind face. he can often be found in the workshop at the south end of the property, his hair blonde and poofy hiding his soft pink ears. Piling the mountains of wool into vats of dyes and setting others out to dry, whistling along to the radio as he weaves it. the hybrid is quiet- and prefers his space from the bustle of the center of the property. Namjoon likes to help him when he can, and you’ve seen the way that the usually taciturn hybrid turns smiley when namjoon is around. 

- There is always someone volunteering to do the countless other little jobs and things that the hybrids do or make to help give back to you. Most of them want to do as much as they can, even though there are still days where there simply isn’t a lot of work to do outside of mealtimes. 

- At night, when you retreat to your house after dinner with Namjoon, happy for a little bit of calmness in your kitchen so late. You’ll hold his hand, let him spin you to the tune of whatever plays out of the radio, and thank him for finding you again after you disappeared into yourself for a little while after your husband's death. You don’t feel quite so sad anymore, with the hybrids here- you have a purpose again. 

- The large fortune you have from your late husband is barely dented by the start-up costs and day-to-day costs of running the farm. And since you got licensed by the state as a hybrid rehabilitation center you have no shortage of funding or generous donations by the countries rich looking to deduct from their taxes too. The same rich people that stop by in their fancy cars and barely used trucks to see the farm, often asking to adopt, as enamored with the hybrids as you are. 

- There is a long judgment period before you sign over anyone, and more than once you have declined an offer after the hybrid in question tells you they’re unsure. Sometimes there are red flags, the way the children act almost fearful, and a lack of care shown during mealtimes or something else that leads you to believe that they will be neglected. The ones you do part with give you a hug, often almost not wanting to let go, some of them choking out ‘thank you’s’ and ‘please never close’ that make every bit of effort worth it.

- You keep a logbook, of every hybrid that comes to stay and when they leave, even some come back more than once, every now and then. At the top of the page is namjoon’s signature, and next is taehyungs, and then on and on. you fill up the first page, and then the second, and then the third with names. 

- All the hybrids know that they won't leave with anyone unless they want to. You hold adoption weekends every month or so to help mitigate some of the influx, but you never turn anyone away who comes to stay. There are some hybrids that come stay at the farm and still want a home of their own, which is the primary reason why you start to have open houses and adoption weekends. 

- You devise a system, red tags on clothing to indicate a hybrid that doesn’t want to be adopted, yellow for the ones that might be but need space, and green name tags for those who want to be adopted. 

- The first time you have one of these weekends, 3 months after the death of your husband, you leave Namjoon’s choice of which sticker he wants up to him. He rolls his eyes at you before slapping 5 red stickers on his lapel just for good measure, really? Why would you expect any differently?  

- “Whose going to love a washed-up old soul like me anyway?” Namjoon says over dishes, helping you finish up the few that are leftover from breakfast. The hybrids that normally help are out meeting with the ten or so people that have come to adopt today. The words sound so sour, much more than he wanted them too.  

- You snort, rubbing at a dish harder, splashing the grease onto the front of your apron, angry, maybe it’s just the hormones. “I don’t know, me maybe.” Namjoon looks up abruptly; nearly dropping the dish he’s drying. You take it from his hands and put it on the counter, and you might be smaller than him by nearly a foot but he still feels shy. his cheeks pinking as he looks down at you. 

- “No ones- no ones ever loved me.” Namjoon says in a rush, not sure why he’s saying it, because you know- if anyone in the world knows Namjoon it’s you. your batterd soul matches his. 

- You tilt his chin down to yours, “no one has ever said it to me and meant it either. But I love you Joonie- you have to know that by now- of course I want you to stay for good.” 

- And then suddenly Namjoon is kissing you feverishly, sloppily despite the fact that his body is brimming with careful intent. And it may not be the first kiss you’ve shared- there have been more than a few in the shadowed shared moments In the morning. Mostly chaste pecks of the lips or kisses to your forehead or the ones to your tummy that namjoon knows make you feel a little sad. But for all intents and purposes, this is the only kiss that matters. The kisses that come after the first “I love you” are always sweeter than candy.  

- You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, making tingles erupt like starlight down his spine. Namjoon almost growls into your mouth as he reaches down to grip underneath your thighs where your ass meets your hips. Picking you up as gently as he can manage and placing you on the butcher-block countertop next to the sink. 

-  Your nails rubbing along the curve where his ears connect to his scull and he pulls you closer, always closer, dissatisfied with your nearness even though you’re pressed against him completely and he can feel the gentle swell of you through his clothes. your legs parted so he can step between them. Namjoon wants to not be able to tell where your skin begins and his ends. Your hands run up and down his chest, pushing his flannel off of his shoulders, so you can feel his biceps, the strength there in them taught. 

- Your dress hiking up to the point where it’s verging on lewd as his hands grab fistfulls of your plush thighs. He grips the weight you’ve gained there through your pregnancy and almost groans as he smooth’s his hands up over your curves unable to get enough of the way his fingers press into your supple skin. “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that? To touch you? i love you too- so much it hurts sometimes.”

- You’re looking up at him, already looking needy and wrecked the spaghetti strap of your dress sliding off your shoulder, as you nod and Namjoon wants more than anything to keep kissing you, to never stop, he never will if you let him.  

- He feels like he almost wants to devour you nipping lightly at the skin exposed by that fallen strap. As your fingers hover around the nape of his neck, answering his question with a broken whimper as he nips along your clavicle to your neck. Drunk on the smell of you, feeling like his soul is bare but safe in your hands. “I love you- god I love you so much, please can - can i- touch you?” 

- You feel almost incredulous, you head spinning with the knowledge that Namjoon loves you, he loves you, and you love him. You nod your ascent, and After everything, you’d never honestly believed that you’d ever be kissed again, much less that you’d ever be kissed like this. You tug up the hem of his shirt to dig your fingers into hips, dragging them carefully down his stomach without using your nails, the gentleness of the touch making him groan.

-  You can feel his heartbeat in your fingertips, the rapid rhythms of each heart beating in time as Namjoon kisses down your chest, mouthing roughly at your nipple through the fabric, careful not to nip, you’re already keening, your breasts so sensitive to his gentle but hungry ministrations. 

- Before it can go any further a cat hybrid, a small tortashell cat named Irene whose missing the tip of one of her ears from her last owner opens the front door looking for you- announcing a few people come for the open house, shocked to find the scene before her. And before she can manage more than a squeak Namjoon is snarling at her to leave without words. 

- He’s flushing so hard at being caught that you can’t help but laugh, as he turns from sultry to painfully shy. After a few more kisses and a frustrated groan on his part, you go back outside to join the adoption day festivities. 

- You get the call to pick up a golden retriever hybrid much like you would get any other call.

- It’s the second you’ve gotten in the last week and it’s only Thursday, though the first hybrid of the week has been clear that she wants to be re-adopted as soon as possible. You get the call and a blurry picture as proof, a brutish man with a hand tugging a small blonde head with golden ears as curly as the rest of his head. the neighbor tells you he’d seen the man beat the hybrid out in the yard, heard his cries of stop- and though of your add in the paper. 

- You and namjoon leave soon after dinner in your old red truck, before you go Taehyung assures you that he’ll make sure everyone cleans up from dinner and that the two child hybrids that came to stay last week will be in bed before 10. It honestly endears you that Taehyung takes on an older brother role with a lot of the younger hybrids, who during free hours, can be found bothering the bear hybrid to play games or let them steal spoonful’s of honey from the storeroom.  

- The drive is long, the day fading into night as you and Namjoon take mile after mile to heart. He switches off with you on the straightaways. You’ve been trying to teach him how to drive over the past few months (with many quaint misshapes where he accidentally knocked over your mailbox and a street sign or two, it’s a good thing your old truck is incredibly sturdy). 

- You whistle along with the song on the radio and namjoon smiles over at you, you're leaning your cheek on the door, hanging your head out of the open window the warm spring air tickling your long hair, your smile soft and happy. The love he has for you overflowing in his chest, thick and sweet like hidden honey. He might not say he loves you often, but you can taste it on his lips every time he kisses you, since the first confession, the kisses have come every day. 

- Namjoon still gets a little misty-eyed if he thinks about it too much. How much better you’ve gotten in the past few months since you’ve opened your home and started helping hybrids. He knows what it means for you to be able to help others out of situations like this. 

- With most pick-ups and house calls, you’re never sure what you’re driving into. Namjoon is always a little worried, unsure what kind of danger they’re going to find at the end of their journey. 

- Namjoon always anticipates the day that the human owners become violent, and his protective instincts go haywire whenever Namjoon has to leave you near someone abusive. Dredging up memories from a time that you’re both desperately trying to forget, but he’d never ask you to stop coming on these runs.

- This is why when you get to the house on the edge of the city where Namjoon used to work he lets you handle the transactional part of this, it helps that you’re very convincing. 

-The large jean jacket that was Namjoon’s at one point but has become yours pulled snugly over your stomach. You answer the door, talk to the owner weave a story of a widow who needs help on their farm. The man smells distinctly of alcohol and cheep cigars, namjoon sees you holding your breath- even as the conversation becomes less than cordial. Namjoon stops the door from closing in your face by shoving his foot into the door. 

- “I’ll level with you asshole,” you say, “you can either take my money and hand over the hybrid now- or I can go to the police with this” you hold out your phone and the video. “The fine for abusing hybrids is just about as much as what I’m offering to take him off your hands. Either way he’s coming home with me tonight. You can either make 500 dollars tonight or lose it- your choice.”  

- Through the whole conversation, Namjoon stands behind you, a silent sentinel even as the owner of the hybrid raises his voice. You argue more, but eventually, he agrees. Namjoon goes to retrieve the hybrid after a small nod from you; you’ve got this handled, Namjoon follows his nose.  

- Over the past few years, Jimin has become accustomed to just about every kind of abuse there is. 

- Even when he sleeps, adrenaline lugs it’s way through his veins ready to jump at the slightest indication of his owner coming down the hall. He knows he shouldn’t sleep right now, get it when he can, but the concussion he got earlier today makes his head feel heavy and nausea still rolls in his belly. 

- He lies- hides- underneath his bed; an old military cot in the cold garage. Not that he ever sleeps on top of it- it’s safer to sleep underneath. That way if his owner comes in later at night he’ll think Jimin has fucked off to some other corner of the house.

- He knows the concussion is all his own fault- he’d been stupid- but he’d just wanted to shower, to get some of the grime out from under his fingernails, he hadn’t expected his owner to come back from wherever he disappeared to so soon. Jimin shivers as he remembers the jarring crack of his own head hitting the rocks outside where he’d been tossed outside. His memories after that were muddled with pain, though he was certain he’d vomited at one point from the taste in his mouth.

- You weren’t supposed to sleep when you had a concussion right? That was dangerous right? Jimin was trying to remember, lying on the side of his face that wasn’t bruised to all high heaven. He freezes when he hears the voices in the kitchen, but relaxes. If people are here that means his owner probably won’t bother Jimin tonight. 

- he might be able to get to the bathroom later and dab some cool water on his face, maybe sneak a few handfuls of something from the kitchen. Always small portions so that his owner couldn’t tell Jimin had taken anything- he couldn’t handle another beating so close to this one. Hunger eats his way through his stomach. 

- But then he hears the footsteps and thinks that maybe he isn’t so lucky tonight. he presses himself closer to the wall, tucking his knees up to his chest.  

- But why are the footsteps a different pattern, what is that scent? it smells like another hybrid- a little spicy musk twined in with pine. Jimin doesn’t like strange smells. The door opens slowly, and the scent seeps in further, along with- what could that be? The scent of something delicate and sweet clinging to the hybrid as strong as his own scent, milky and soft, and inexplicably vulnerable.

- He watches as the stiff workboots come into view, At this point, jimin can tell that it’s definitely not his owner.

- Namjoon finds Jimin curled up under his bed in the garage, and beacons him out in his calm voice, careful not to get close and startle him. “Come on out pup- we’re here to take you somewhere safe, I promise I will let no harm come to you again.” jimin eases when he sees the hybrid ears- another hybrid like him! another dog, his tail gives a single wag. “mm not a pup- i’m just small,” 

- Jimin pears out from under the bed at him, ears pinned to his head in fear. the hybrid looks fierce and intimidating with the scars on his face that jimin almost flinches back. But the wide worried eyes that he can see underneath those scars, the muted dimples stretching into a worried smile. 

- Jimin has been so downtrodden on his entire life that he doesn’t really believe Namjoon when he repeats the words, “we’re here to take you somewhere safe?” jimin dosent believe him- but at the same time, he thinks that nowhere could be worse than right where he is.  

- The other hybrids smile is kind, and dimply, despite the scars that mark his face as he sits on the ground so he dosent have to bend over to see under the cot. “sorry, it’s hard to get a good look at you, i’m namjoon, you’re Jimin right?” 

- Jimin crawls out from under his cot in the garage slowly, the room spinning.  half expecting the other hybrid to get tired of his slowness and yank him out. his owner did that sometimes when he felt like Jimin was being disrespectful of his time. Namjoon winces outwardly when Jimin’s left side turns towards the light, and Jimin knows that it can’t look good. He can barely see out of his eye after all the skin tender and swolen under his hands. 

- He’s mindful of all the dust on his clothes and the tare in the left leg of his red shorts, brushing a dust bunny off his side, suddenly feeling lacking in front of the well taken care of hybrid.  

- He follows a pace behind Namjoon back into the living room, his owner stands with you, you’re shorter but holding your own with sharp stubborn eyes. A human, so this must be Namjoon’s owner. The second your eyes fall on Jimin, on his swollen side of his face, your eyes turn softer and definitely angrier. 

- The scent of flowers and cream hits Jimin like a wave so pungent that it fills his nostrils and overwhelms him a little, it’s not unpleasant- just unexpected- and when he sees you he understands why. Though you’re obviously trying to conceal your pregnant stomach your scent is a dead giveaway every hybrid in a mile radius probably can smell you.  

- Jimin can see Namjoon straighten up a little, becoming more protective the closer they get to Jimin’s owner, who doesn’t look happy (not by a long, astronomical shot) Jimin shivers as he turns his eyes on him, his arms crossed, and Namjoon instinctually steps in front of Jimin to hide him from view. Jimin sways on his feet. 

- You plunge your hand into your bag by your side, pulling out a stack of bills, for a moment jimin almost wants to stop you- tell you that he’s not worth that much, but Namjoon holds out a hand, almost pressing it to Jimin’s chest to keep him from doing so. 

- The money is counted, “good riddance useless mutt,” his owner spits after he signs over the adoption documents to you.  Jimin’s flinch is sobering, his owner laughs. Namjoon actually shoves him back The saliva hitting Jimin’s feet as he reels, and you lay a gentle arm around his shoulders, guiding him outside. Sending a final glare in the direction of the man. 

- Jimin can barely process any of it through the spinning in his head, a spinning that moderately stops the second he gets outside into the cool air of the May evening. The scent of flowers and pine in his nose and the taste of blood in his mouth.  

- You soothe him with a soft voice once they’re out of earshot and take a quick look at Jimin’s half swollen face. A cellphone flashlight in his face and thundering in his ears. Momentarily blinding him. Jimin closes his eye as the pads of your fingers turn his chin this way and that to assess his wounds. “Do you think you need to go to the hospital Jimin?” you ask, careful to stay quiet and delicate with him.

- In the window of Jimin’s old house, the curtain twitches, and Namjoon knows they need to leave soon. Bad will and money lead to safety that only lasts so long, and they definitely don’t need the cops called on them especially after Namjoon shoved him, hybrids have been sent to jail for less. 

- “No, I think I’ll be fine” Jimin mumbles, unable to resist leaning into your hand, so soft, your scent making him feel almost hazy and out of it than his probable concussion does. And Namjoon freezes, reminded that not too long ago that you looked like this too- that he was the one leaning into your hands. The memory hits him so violently that he whines, low in his throat. Jimin looks up, ears flicking agitated like he’s asking what wrong, sending a panicked glance between the two of you defaulting to namjoon, the elder hybrid, to know what to do around you- his new owner. 

- “let me- let's get you into the car” namjoon grips jimin around the top of his arms and lifts him in, his skinned knee resisting the bend that would be needed to pull himself up into the back seat. He sits tense and curled up before you remind him that he can stretch out. and he settles onto the seat with his his back up against one side, and his feet pressed against the opposite door. the back window open to let the night air wip in. 

- You stop at the gas station and give Jimin ice for his black eye and some food and snacks, which he gobbles up hungrily. He’s so preoccupied with food, that he dosent notice Namjoon’s dimpled smile in the mirror after Jimin groans at how good the gas station burrito tastes, licking his fingers with a pop. You give Namjoon a soft, knowing look when his tail thumps against the seat. he tosses Jimin two more bags of chips and a sweet elecrtolite drink, and watches expectantly to see more of Jimin’s happy little whines and pleased grumbles. and you stifle a huffing laugh. 

- Namjoon can’t help it, the hybrid in the back seat looks so thin, almost startlingly so; he’s smaller than average too- probably malnourished. Namjoon’s natural caregiver instincts flaring up and demanding to be satisfied so desperately that he even tosses his flannel over him when he sees the hybrid shiver. You sent Namjoon a curious look, and he hides his flush by turning to watch the roadside. 

- Jimin stretches out across the back seat with Namjoon’s giant flannel thrown over his shoulders, checking to make sure neither of you is looking back at him before he presses the collar to his nose and takes a deep breath of your combines scents, trying to reconcile his senses with what surely must be a dream. 

- This has to be just a concussion dream jimin decides, what else would his mind come up with, other than a sweet fantasy. Someone comes to take him out of the hell his life was, give him food. He wants to take in everything, the smell of the night air, the silhouette of your face in the headlights, namjoon’s ears poking out above the headrest. 

- He hovers on Namjoon’s hand entwined with yours over the center console, the hand that Namjoon occasionally reaches out to rest against your swollen stomach, gently drawing lazy circles as you pull onto the main road.

- Yup, Jimin decides, this is definitely a dream, but he hopes it’s real.  The last little bit of hope feels almost stupid to have, for hybrids like Jimin, there are very rarely happy endings.

- He falls asleep by the time you reach the highway, lulled by the thrumming road and the oldies song faintly playing out of the crackly speakers of the beat-up truck. His last thought before sleep takes him is hope. 

-  Jimin hopes with the last shred of himself that is joyful and kind and not purely concerned with survival that this is not a dream, and that where he is going will be a little bit better than where he just was. 

- Even just a little bit better than this dream, he doesn’t even need anything like the affection burning in both of your eyes or the kindness you’ve shown him, if he can just lay his head down and rest without being worried he’ll be woken up with pain and fear again, that will be enough. 

- To Jimin, the farm is an Eden.

( my Kofi )

[harrysweasleys]

speechless // h.p

Summary: Can you do a Harry Potter x reader where reader is exactly like Richie Tozier and she defends him from Draco and his Slytherins? And Harry falls in love with her from then and everyone is teasing him?

Warnings: language ofc!!!

Word Count: 6k 

A/N: ok first off I cannot express my love for Richie Tozier enough. he’s a precious baby and I love him. also I’m so close to my next hundred! thank you all! (gif isn’t mine) xxxx

—

“Oi, mum sent me a package!”

Ron peeled open the box in front of him, repeatedly hitting Hermione in the ribs as he ripped the paper off the box, his face lighting up like a child on Christmas morning.

“I hope it’s a wig,” you piped up, “Because something really has to change about your hair.”

Ron glared at you, tossing the wrapping paper to the floor and kicking it under the table, “Ha, hilarious.”

He continued to rip at the box, eventually managing to tear it open. His eyes widened, his smile falling shortly after.

“Oh, is it a picture of yourself?” you pursed your lips and nodded condescendingly, “That’s the only thing that could have made you look so depressed.”

Hermione and Harry burst out laughing, however Ron kept a solemn expression as he took out the contents of the box, which happened to be a very old pair of dress robes — the collar was off-white and frilly and the thick sleeves were clearly moth-eaten. You put a hand over your mouth to hide your laughter, not wanting to make Ron’s mood any more sour than it was at that moment.

“Mum sent me...a dress?” Ron’s voice was defeated as he stood up, holding the dress robes at their full length.

“Wow,” you struggled to hold your laughter back, “I didn’t think anything could get worse than your hair but that’s awful.”

“Is there a bonnet?” Harry joined in on the teasing and reached into the package, taking out what appeared to just be a frilly mess, “Aha!” You grinned at Harry’s pleaser reaction.

Ron scowled at the two of you, walking away from the table and approaching his younger sister, “Ginny, these must be for you.”

Hermione started giggling, catching Ron’s attention. He peered back at her, silently asking what her problem was.

“They’re not for Ginny, they’re for you, they’re dress robes.”

Ron’s face lost all colour, making the situation a million times more amusing for you. Harry continued teasing his friend, Ron becoming more agitated by the minute. You tuned out the conversation where Hermione explained to Ron that they were dress robes, and focused on the breakfast plate in front of you, loving how every now and then Harry would nudge you and make another joke.

Ron stuffed the robes back in the box, wanting to hide them from the eyes of fellow students. Most of the Gryffindor table had seen them by now, everyone had a good laugh, but the last thing Ron wanted was to catch anyone else’s attention.

So, naturally, that’s exactly what happened.

“Weasel, what was that?”

The four of you turned your attention towards Draco Malfoy, who sauntered over to your section of the Gryffindor table with his goonies by his side.

You immediately fought the urge to stand up and punch him in the face — a natural urge when around Malfoy.

“I guess considering how poor your family is, those awful dress robes are all you could afford,” Malfoy smirked at Ron’s flushed face, which was now facing the floor.

You stood up, “Oi, we didn’t ask for a conversation with an arrogant asshole today.”

Malfoy’s eyes shot daggers at you, Crabbe and Goyle flexing their ‘muscles’ as if trying to warn you, “How dare you—”

“—talk to me, yeah, I’ve heard the speech before,” you cut him off, crossing your arms across your chest, “Now, leave, thanks. Seeing your face made me lose my appetite.”

As if rendered speechless, Malfoy rolled his eyes and stormed off, followed by his two shadows. You smirked and sat back down, continuing to pick at your breakfast silently while Harry, Ron and Hermione smiled at you.

“What’re you all staring at?” you asked, not bothering to look up.

Ron shook his head, “I reckon I’ve never seen Malfoy speechless before.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “It’s a gift, I leave people speechless.”

The three of them laughed, the conversation going back to normal as you finished off your breakfast, mentally preparing for another loooong day of classes.

— —

“There’s gonna be a ball?” you scoffed, turning to Hermione wide a bewildered expression, “We’re expected to dress up? Oh, the nightmare.”

She tried to stifle her smile so McGonagall wouldn’t call the two of you out, “It’s not horrible, is it? I think it’s about time we do something fancier here.” She glanced quickly over at Ron before turning her attention back to you. But, being as attentive as always, you caught her not-so-subtle glance.

You widened your eyes, faking a gasp, “You already know who you want to go with, don’t you?”

She shushed you quickly, trying to make sure no one heard your outburst. You could see the blush rise to her cheeks, already giving you the answer you needed. You knew damn well she had feelings for Ron, but she really did try her hardest to hide them.

“Y/N! Don’t just be blurting out stuff like that,” she forced a neutral expression, “And no. I don’t know who I want to go with. Nor does it matter.”

You nodded, not believing her, “Whatever answer floats your boat, I guess.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “Well, who do you want to go with then?”

You turned away from her, eyes subconsciously darting towards Harry — who was so zoned out he didn’t even notice your glance — and turned back to Hermione, “No one. No one’s good enough, of course.”

She rolled her eyes, “I call your bluff.”

“Well call whatever bluff you want,” you shrugged, leaning back in your chair and turning away from her to face McGonagall, “Can’t fight the truth.”

She didn’t press the subject any further, but continued to peer at you through the corner of her eye, thankfully missing every time you looked over at Harry.

You couldn’t deny, Harry Potter was a catch. He was cute, fun to be around, and had recently fought off a dragon. I mean, the whole package, right? It wasn’t hard for you to develop a crush, the feelings came so naturally.

However, you were fairly certain the dark haired boy didn’t feel at all the same about you. He never showed interest, nor did he go out of his way to be with you. It stung a little when you’d catch him watching the perfect little Cho Chang make her way through the Great Hall, but you weren’t going to let it bring you down. He wasn’t yours, after all.

“Now, next time we meet I will be giving you dance lessons—”

You had finally tuned back in to what McGonagall was saying, trying your best to seem as if you hadn’t just floated off.

“—So, the rest of your class is a free period.”

You stood up hastily, grabbing Hermione’s wrist and walking over to where Harry and Ron were sitting, the two of them standing up and grumbling about dancing.

“Boy, oh, boy,” you let go of Hermione’s wrist and placed your hands on your waist, “A dance, huh? What’d ya think about that, Ronald? You gonna ask anyone?”

Ron’s face went blank and Hermione stomped discreetly on your foot, telling you that you had overstepped your boundaries. You hoped she’d forgive you for this.

“Uh, I don’t know,” Ron shrugged, looking between you and Hermione. You were destined to set those two up, nothing was going to stop you.

“You sure? C’mon, handsome lad like you’s gotta find a date. And you Hermione, you’re, ya know, smart and fun, don’t you want to bring a date as well?” you grinned, knowing damn well how uncomfortable you were making them. They both shifted awkwardly, stealing glances back and forth, none of them knowing what to say next. Ron’s feelings for Hermione were just as obvious, really.

“Well, I’ve made things weird, haven’t I?” you smirked, placing your arm around Harry’s neck. You ignored the way goosebumps formed at the contact, choosing to believe it was from how warm his skin was.

“Yes, you have, thanks,” Hermione spoke through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at you.

“Apologies,” you bowed slightly, “Let’s leave them be, Harry.”

Harry, laughing and sharing a confused expression with Ron, followed you out. You took your arm away from him, stealing a glance back to see that Ron and Hermione were still standing in awkward silence, and turned into the hallway.

“Nice work, maybe they’ll finally work up their courage,” Harry grinned at you, nodding approvingly at your set up, “You’re a natural matchmaker, Y/N.”

“See, they just needed a push, is all—oof,” you were cut off, bumping forcefully into a body of someone much larger than you. Your sight went dark, the only thing you knew was that the person tended immediately upon impact.

You pulled away, noticing the deathly glare Crabbe was now sending you.

“Oh, it’s just you,” you sighed in relief, “It went dark for a second, I thought I saw the end.”

Harry coughed to hide his laughter, pulling lightly on your sleeve to tell to you walk away. His tugging only became more aggressive once Malfoy stepped out from behind Crabbe, the same pissed off expression as always laced into his features.

“Leave us alone, Malfoy,” Harry glared at him, the tension between the two of them rising significantly in a short amount of time. He let go of your sleeve, standing up straighter and squaring his shoulders.

“It was unfortunate, you know, that the dragon didn’t kill you,” Malfoy said lowly, clearly loving the fact that his friends laughed at his comment. You, on the other hand, weren’t sure what they had found funny. Was it a joke? What had he said that was so funny?

Harry rolled his eyes, motioning his head for you to follow him, and so you did so without question.

“You know, I was mistaken,” Malfoy’s voice echoed down the corridor, making both of you turn around once more. You were feeling both bored and angry — it was quite a strange mix. You were used to Malfoy’s taunts, having sat by while all of your friends — you included — fell victim, but a part of you particularly hated the way he spoke to Harry.

“Oh, yeah? About what? Please, for Merlin’s sake, enlighten us,” you snapped back, “We’re just dying to know.”

Malfoy’s eyes scanned your face before approaching the the both of you one more. Harry’s shoulder was pressed up against yours and you could feel his ragged his breathing had become. Malfoy always found a way under his skin and it bothered you a great deal.

“About Potter, I actually hope you do make it to the end, it’ll make your death that much more bittersweet,” Malfoy sneered, “For those who care, that is.”

“Gee, I always believed we Gryffindors were petty but that’s a whole new low,” you smirked, taking a step forward after pushing Harry back, telling him to let you handle the situations, “You know, I’ve come to a conclusion about you, Malfoy. The reason you’ve never said anything logical in your life is because you waste your breath insulting the people that you think care about your opinion.”

“Excuse me?” you had never seen Malfoy looked more appalled than in that moment. It was rather amusing.

“Was my English not easy enough for you to understand? Point proven,” you sighed dramatically, turning away from him and nudging Harry in the shoulder, “Oh, one more thing, Malfoy.”

You turned back to face him, “suck my dick.”

And with that, you turned back and walked away with Harry by your side, neither of you wanting to turn and gauge what Malfoy’s reaction would be.

Once you two were around the corner, Harry turned to you with wide eyes and his mouth broken into a wide smile. If this was the reaction you’d get for shutting down Malfoy, you’d gladly do it any day.

“That was epic, Y/N!” his hands grabbed your shoulders, shaking you slightly, “I’ve never actually had anyone stand up for me like that before, what made you do it?”

“Oh — I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling quite proud of yourself, “I stick up for my friends, I guess.” Friends. How you wished Harry could be more than just your friend.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, taking his hands off of your shoulders and shaking his head in disbelief, “You know, I think I found the perfect friend in you. I love Ron and all but that was something else...”

As he trailed off, you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your eyes. Although that should make you weak in the knees, a part of you instinctively pulled away, flushing brightly at the encounter. You told yourself it was probably just the heat of the moment, the thrill of the comeback.

“Eh, no biggie,” you shrugged, “Asshole needs to be put in his place sometimes.”

You nodded awkwardly and began to continue in the path you were headed, until you noticed Harry was no longer by your side, still standing rooted where you two were not five seconds ago.

“Harry, you—,”

“I’m good, yeah,” he cut you off quietly, a light smile on his lips, “You’re the best.”

“I’ve been told,” you grinned, trying not to let his words get to you. He chuckled, walking forwards and standing next to you, eyes still staring into yours with intensity you didn’t think you could bear.

Awkwardly looking away, your cheeks heating up, you motioned your head down the hall, “We should get going before Hermione and Ron come after me like an angry mob.”

Harry nodded, eyes wide and turning away from you, shaking his head like he was clearing his thoughts, “Good point.”

And so the two of you walked off towards the common room, the silence tense and unsure, but not comfortable. Did Harry really mean what he said? Calling you ‘the best’ and all? It was flattering, especially coming from him, but did he mean it the way that you wanted to take it?

Fighting a mental battle, you stayed quiet until you reached the common room. You flopped down on the couch, nearly being hit by a firework that Fred and George were trying out in the corner of the room.

“How long do you think it’ll be before—,”

The portrait door swung open and a very flustered Ron and Hermione stumbled in, both looking tremendously irritated and uncomfortable.

Hermione stormed up to you, dragging you up by your collar, “You and I need to talk. Right now.”

Shocked by her outburst, you nodded, “If you wanted to get me alone you could have just asked—,” noticing her expression, she wasn’t in the joking mood, “Yikes, sorry, okay, let’s go upstairs.”

She continued to drag you up, the anger fueling her sudden burst of strength. You did feel kind of bad about leaving her and Ron, but it wasn’t like you openly said anything about her feelings towards him.

Upon reaching your dorm room and noticing it was empty, she shut the door and pointed a finger at you accusingly, “You. Why would you do that? That was humiliating!”

“Oh come on,” you sat on the edge of you bed and brought your legs up, sitting criss-crossed, “It couldn’t have been that bad. Did he ask you to the ball?”

“No!” she seethed, sitting down on hers as well, “All he said was that he indeed noticed I am a girl.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “Four years in and he finally notices? I knew he wasn’t the brightest lightbulb in the chandelier, but wow.”

As if she agreed with your comment, the anger seemed to disappear from her face. She rushed off her bed and sat next to you, shoving you over slightly so she had space on the tiny bed.

“I think he’s already got his eye on someone. It’s not fun.”

“Tell me about it,” you mumbled before you could stop yourself. Hermione’s eyes shot up, giving you a quizzing look as you clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh! You like someone!” she grinned, lifting her hand to poke you in the shoulder, “You know about my feelings, I need to know about yours.”

“I don’t have feelings,” you defended, fighting back a blush and taking your hand away from your mouth, “Don’t turn this on me.”

“It’s Harry, isn’t it?” she smirked. You scolded yourself for having been obvious. Of course, the ever-so intuitive Hermione would catch onto who your crush was. It was an embarrassing attempt to hide it on your part.

“Listen, Hermione,” you pointed a finger at her, “Tell anyone and during the next dinner, they’ll be serving your head on a silver platter.”

She giggled, ignoring your threat and crossing her fingers over your heart, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Squinting at her, you figured you’d be able to trust her. She had been your friend for years and kept all your previous secrets. She might be able to keep this one as well.

“Fine,” you gave in, throwing your head back in frustration, “You’re right. It’s Harry.”

She gave you a toothy grin, wiggling her eyebrows, “Now, I have to set you two up.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you shot back, pointing your finger and shaking your head, “You’re gonna take his deep-rooted love for Cho away and, well, that’s just plain rude.”

“Oh, shut up, he’s barely ever spoken to her. It’s just an appearance thing,” she waved her hand, brushing off your comment, “Besides, I heard Lavender Brown say that Cho and Cedric Diggory are hanging out.”

Not overly shocked by the information, you leaned back onto your pillows, “Good for her. Diggory is a right catch if I say so myself.”

Hermione smacked your knee, “Sit up! Listen to me, you don’t need to pout, let’s just go down there and I’ll work my magic.”

You glared at her, not utterly convinced she was able to do much, but you followed her back downstairs nonetheless, figuring it was worth a shot. The worst that could happen was that Harry would not feel the same, distance himself from you, then you’d lose Ron and Hermione as well because they were his friends first and then you’d be left alone to suffer in self despair while they galavanted in friendship—

“Hey, Harry!” Hermione greeted a little too cheerfully once you two entered the seating area of the common room. Already embarrassed by her attempt, you didn’t notice the way Ron and Harry immediately stopped talking upon your entrance, sharing a look that could only mean ‘don’t say anything.’

“Er — hi, Hermione,” Harry smiled awkwardly.

You sat down on the couch next to Ron, who was eyeing Hermione with awe. He was so smitten, it was a miracle no one else noticed the way he looked at her.

“Ron, you’re pathetic,” you leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Ask her. Don’t make me threaten you into doing it.”

Ron shot you a look, “Not bloody likely.”

You turned away, shrugging, and stared into the fireplace. Harry was seated on your other side, not saying much, but the way he kept looking over at you made you think that he did actually have something he wanted to say.

“Well, from what I’ve heard, Cho is going to go to the ball with Cedric,” Hermione said, pretending it was no biggie but checking over repeatedly to see Harry’s reaction.

Upon noticed he didn’t say anything, she leaned closer to him, “Did you hear me Harry? Cho’s taken.”

Harry looked at her, eyes darting back and forth between you, Ron and her, “Yeah, I heard you.”

“Guess that means you can ask someone else,” Hermione grinned, leaning back.

You scolded yourself for telling her. She was being ridiculously obvious and it pained you to see her efforts. Did she think this was going to anywhere?

“Er — I guess,” Harry shrugged, glancing over at you for a millisecond before turning back towards the fire, “I guess I’ll wait and see how things go.”

Your heart did a slight flip. He didn’t mention having any other girl in mind, maybe that meant he didn’t. Which still gave you a shot, technically. Even if he didn’t see you that way just yet, maybe you’d have to turn on the charm. Flirt, make him see that you were actually interested.

Granted, flirting was never really your area of expertise. You weren’t good at it, nor did you really have any experience. But maybe, just maybe, with Hermione’s strange help, you’d be able to find a way to get him to notice you.

Plan Flirt with Harry was now in action.

— —

Over the next two weeks, things had been going relatively well. Hermione had toned down her strategy and was making you seem like much more of a natural.

You and Harry had even shared a few lingering touches, whether they be your hands touching at the table during dinner, or his elbow touching yours when you were sat in the common room. Nothing overly intimate, but enough to send sparks flying through your body at the feeling.

You had also noticed the way Ron and Harry seemed to drop whatever conversation they were having when you entered the room. Sure, they could have been discussing Hermione and Ron’s feeble attempts at his own flirting, but the way Harry would glance at you during meals and classes sent your head spiralling with the idea that maybe, just maybe, they were talking about you.

You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but it was hard not to when the ball was getting closer by the day and neither you, nor Harry, had a date and he still hadn’t shown interest in anyone else.

“He asked me!” Hermione stumbled into the dorm room in excitement, causing you to jump out of your skin and nearly drop the book you were reading.

“Ron?” you grinned, sitting up, “Oh, that’s great, Hermione! I knew—,”

“Not Ron,” she rolled her eyes, flopping down on your bed, on top of your legs, “Viktor Krum.”

“Ohhhh,” your eyes widened, “You go, girl. Have you seen his jawline? I’d let him cut me with it, hot ass—”

Hermione laughed, pretending to shoot you a glare, “That’s my date you’re talking about.”

“Right, sorry,” you joined in on her laughter, closing your book and placing it on your night table, “But I really am happy for you.”

“Thanks,” her cheeks went pink as she turned to face you, “Can we go sit in the common room? It’s just Ron and Harry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you sighed, flicking the warm blanket off of you and following her downstairs. She was radiating joy, and even though it wasn’t Ron that had ended up asking her, you could tell she was really looking forward to this date.

“Just ask her,” you heard Ron snap quietly once you two started making your way down the stairs, “I see the way she looks at you.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped back, trying to keep his voice down, “She can do better anyways.”

“Yeah, bloody right,” Ron scoffed, “You fought a dragon.”

“It’s not the same, Ron, I— shush, I hear footsteps.”

The two of you walked into the room, noticing once again how Harry and Ron dropped their conversation upon landing sight on you two. So, Harry already had plans on asking someone to go to the ball. It hurt, you weren’t going to deny it. Of course he had someone else. He was Harry Potter, for goodness sake. Charming, funny, loyal, and brave. All the qualities to make a girl swoon.

“What are you two ladies gossiping about?” you pretended to be fine as you sat down on the opposite couch, placing your hands in your lap and trying to steady your now irregular heartbeat. Jealousy was slowly coursing through your veins and you hated it.

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head, a fake look of innocence on his face. Ron nodded along, neither of them being very convincing.

“Oh, hey Y/N,” Ron smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging Harry in the ribs. Harry, glaring at his friend, gave him a nudge right back. You chose to ignore the comment, focusing more on the look Hermione was giving you.

“Hi, Ron,” you replied back, not sure why he was grinning while glancing back and forth between you and Harry. He was always very strange.

Hermione sat down on the armrest of your chair, crossing her arms and nudging you in the side, telling you to start doing something.

“Harry, are you trying to figure out the second task?” you blurted out, not sure what you could have said that wouldn’t make the situation weird.

“Of course,” Harry’s cheeks flushed slightly, his eyes avoiding yours, “I think I’ve almost got it.”

You grinned, “Oh, that’s great. I knew you’d be able to figure it out.”

Hermione seemed more pleased by your comment, leaning back and letting the situation unfold.

“Harry’s real smart, you know,” Ron nudged Harry in the side again, a teasing expression on his face, “One of the smartest.”

“Thanks,” Harry glared at Ron, speaking with gritted teeth before turning back to you, his face softening, “I had help, though.”

“Modesty isn’t gonna make you win, y’know,” you smirked, admiring his honesty, “Take credit. Be proud of yourself.”

Harry’s cheeks were pink and he brushed the hair out of his forehead, “Thanks, Y/N.”

You could tell he was flustered, but you figured it was probably because of the compliments. Harry never really knew how to reply to them — you had noticed that over the years. For someone who was the bravest person you had ever met, he sure didn’t know how to deal with people.

“Oh, Ron, Ginny wanted to talk to us,” Hermione sat up quickly, clapping her hands together. Ron raised an eyebrow, questioning her silently, before standing up.

“She did?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“Yes! She did,” Hermione sent a discreet wink in your direction before turning to Harry, “We’ll be back shortly!”

“Well, Y/N, Harry, be safe you two,” Ron picked up on what Hermione was doing, smirking as he made his way to exit the room, “Have fun!”

Harry glanced at Ron, his eyes wide. The two boys shared a look before Hermione dragged the ginger boy out the portrait hole behind her.

“Head on a silver platter, Hermione!” you called after her, your heart beating violently, “Head on a silver platter!”

The portrait swung shut and the room went dead silent. The only thing you could hear was the thump of your heart and the sudden nervousness that spread throughout your body at being alone with Harry.

You wanted to seize the chance and make a move, but you had just heard him talk about asking a girl to the ball, so was it a good idea? Probably not.

But as you looked at him, watching the way the flames flickered across his face and the way his messy hair stuck out in different directions, it took everything you had in you to not rush over there and tell him everything.

“Can I tell you something? Don’t tell Ron and Hermione,” he piped up quietly, turning to face you, the blue of his eyes making you weak. You were thankful he spoke first, it prevented you from spilling your guts and making a fool out of yourself.

“Sure,” you replied, getting up and walking towards the couch he was sitting on, making yourself comfortable on the opposite end.

He sighed deeply, “I haven’t figured out the egg.”

“You haven’t?” you spoke, shock evident on your face. You felt bad for acting so surprised, but you couldn’t help it. He had seemed so confident when he told you he had.

He shook his head silently, shrugging, “I don’t know what to do with it.”

You blinked rapidly, turning over to face the golden egg that was sitting on the table, “Why didn’t you want to tell the others? Hermione could probably figure it out.”

He turned to you, face pale, “No, don’t tell them. I just thought I’d tell you, I don’t know, I trust you.”

You fought back a grin, hiding your smile behind your hair so you didn’t look like an idiot. He probably didn’t mean it as a compliment but you took it as such.

“Well, I’ll help you, then,” you nodded, holding out your pinky, “I know we’re not children, but I pinky promise.”

He grinned, linking your pinky with his. For someone who had been through so much, he really did have soft skin. It was annoying. Pleasant, but annoying.

“I’m glad I have you around, Y/N.”

His gaze was so intense and wholesome that you struggled to hold back.

“The sappiness is gross, but I’m glad to be around,” you beamed, pulling your pinky away and turning back to your corner of the couch, leaning your head back and enjoying the softness of the cushion, your mind going back to the conversation you had heard between him and Ron. Who was he planning on asking?

Now was your chance — now or never.

“So — uh — who are you asking to the ball?” you asked, so silently Harry had to lean closer to you to hear it.

He stammered, “Oh — er — I dunno, yet. There’s a girl I have in mind but I don’t think she sees me that way.”

Your heart sank, but you turned to face him with a neutral expression, “I call bullshit. Who wouldn’t want to go with you?”

He seemed to think over your words for a second, a glimpse of fondness on his features, but he turned away and shook his head, “She’s different.”

“How so?” you regretted it as soon as you asked, knowing Harry was about to gush about some girl when you wished more than anything it was you he’d be gushing about.

“She’s bold,” he said, a hint of a smile on his lips, “Not afraid to stick up for herself or the people she cares about. She’s smart, too, always has an answer for everything. A good friend — the best, really. And I know she’d be better off with someone who wasn’t me.”

You nodded, processing his words and trying to think of the girl he could be talking about. It completely crushed you, hearing him speak so highly of someone, but you knew that if anything, he’d be the one better off without you.

“Why’d you think that?” you began twiddling with your thumbs, avoiding his eyes, “Did she tell you or is it an assumption?”

“She didn’t tell me,” he quickly replied, shaking his head, “But she’s got such an incredible spirit, I’m worried I’d ruin it. You know, it’s funny. I always looked at her like she was just a friend, just someone that I’d got lucky to have around, but then one day, she did something, and it kind of clicked. After that, I couldn’t look at her the same. She was so much more beautiful, so much more radiant and lovely and I knew from then on that she was just... different to me. And I tried to tell myself she was never going to see me that way but the more I was around her, the harder it was.”

You bit your cheek, trying your best to hold back your oncoming emotions.

“Well, she’s lucky,” your voice was weak, shaky even, as you turned to face him.

His smile was clear as day and the love struck expression was still on his face as he turned to look at you, causing you to speak up one more, “What did she do that made you change your mind about her?”

The smile vanished from his face and the awkward expression returned. He raised his hand, rubbing the back of his neck and then through his hair, as if he wasn’t sure what to say next.

He dropped his hand and faced you, all traces of amusement gone from his face, “She stuck up for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, his words echoing in your mind. You nearly missed his hand reaching across the couch and grabbing yours, linking his fingers and running his thumb across your skin.

Had he been talking about you? It would make sense, you had stuck up for him against Malfoy a few weeks back, but had it really impacted him to the point where he was falling for you?

You didn’t want to complain, but you couldn’t believe it. You thought back to what he said, about seeing you as a friend and then as something more, that you were different and beautiful, even. It was nearly impossible to believe him just off of his words, you had embarrassingly dreamt of him admitting his feelings and it felt too good to be true, but his gentle tough and soft gaze grounded you to reality. He was telling you the truth.

“I’m talking about you, if you hadn’t caught on,” he tried to smile but it came off as more of a grimace, his nerves evident in his shaking hand and pale complexion.

You still couldn’t forumulate the words to say. For years you had always been the one to make a comeback, leaving others speechless — but now, you were the one speechless.

“Me?” you stared at him with wide eyes, heart violently thumping against your rib cage, trying to burst out and reach his, “Me?”

He retracted his hand rather quickly, “Unless — you know, unless you don’t feel the same.”

“No, wait,” you reached across and grabbed his hand, finally finding the courage to flash him a smile, “I do actually. I do feel the same.”

Relief flooded over him, his face regaining colour and his shoulders slouching back, “Oh, thank Merlin.”

The joy that had spread through you was indescribable. You didn’t think there could be a better feeling. Your heart seemed to swell and the tingling sensation in your fingers was everlasting. It was like a high you didn’t want to come down from. God bless Hermione and her intuition of leaving you two alone.

Plan Flirt with Harry had been a success.

— —

Hermione and Ron had quickly been informed of the confession between you two, both of them saying they had called it years back. Which didn’t make sense considering you didn’t have feelings for each other years back, but you let them enjoy their moment.

You had helped Harry try and figure out his second task, as promised, spending many a nights up late in the common room and telling each other things you wouldn’t tell someone if you were ‘just friends.’ You were having the time of your life, really. He had grown comfortable being intimate — holding your hand on the way to class or pecking your cheek in the Great Hall. (Hermione and Ron teased you two to no ends about it.)

Eventually, Harry had asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball — which you responded with ‘well, duh.’ So, as the night of the dance came around — you were actually looking forward to it now — you had gotten ready with Hermione and strolled down to the Great Hall, ready to finally dance the night away with the boy you had fallen for.

Reaching the stairs, you noticed him and Ron standing at the bottom, both looking out of place. Ron — donning his ugly dress robes — had worked up the courage to ask one of the Patil twins. Which one, you didn’t remember. He had asked her out of desperation, it was rather sad.

“It’s embarrassing to be seen next to you, Ronald,” you tapped him on the shoulder once you arrived at the bottom. He spun around, his face laced with humiliation.

“They’re ancient,” he groaned, lifting his arms to show you the frills.

“Yeah, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you,” you winked and ruffled his hair, turning to face Harry.

His eyes scanned you up and down in your dress, but you were too focused on how good he looked to feel at all self conscious. You had only ever really seen him in sweaters and his Gryffindor robes. This was a whole new level of glo-up.

“You look gorgeous,” he grinned, linking his hand with yours and pulling you closer to him, “I’m the luckiest guy here.”

You tossed your hair over your shoulder, grinning, “Well, what can I say? I’m a catch.”

“That you are,” he nodded, sticking out his arm for you to take, “We have first dance since I’m Champion.”

You nodded, linking your arm in his and standing by his side. You weren’t exactly a good dancer, but if you had Harry by your side you’d be too focused on him as opposed to the crowd around you.

“Shall we go in then, Champion?” you turned to face him, chin held high.

“We shall,” he replied in the same noble manner, chin up, and began leading you into the ball.

He was well worth the wait.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (1)

A WIBAR AU (that’s right, an AU of an AU) where the circumstances of Virgil’s introduction to the group-- or rather, Virgil himself-- are... a little different. A commission for @bumblebeekitten! 

warnings: unknowingly referring to a person as ‘it’, panic, fear, child endangerment

---

Patton woke up to the distinctive clamor of his teammates bickering. It was a familiar sound. 

“-- has been three days, are you certain we aren’t simply chasing a local legend with no basis in reality?” That would be Logan!

“Look, you two are the ones that decided to come with me, I would have been perfectly fine going alone!” And there was Roman, the swish of his tail betraying his agitation. “Besides, there’s something suspicious going on here, I’m sure of it.”

“Oh? And what evidence do you have to support your assertion?” 

“... I’ve just got a feeling.” 

Logan made a sound of disgust, and Patton sat up in time to see his friend throw all four hands out in an exasperated gesture. He sleepily rubbed at his eyes, shaking out his mussed-up feathers. 

“Are you tired of camping already, Lo?” 

The Ulgorian exhaled slowly, his ears twitching irritatedly. “No. I simply am uncertain that this venture will prove beneficial. We don’t have the budget to waste time on a vain attempt to soothe superstitious locals.” 

“Don’t be so heartless, Professnore,” Roman snapped, quickly checking his pack for everything he would need while out traversing the woods. “They’re asking for help because they’re worried. Something out there has driven the Humlilts into hiding, for all we know, the livestock could be next!” 

“They suspect the local fauna are being threatened, but that’s only one potential explanation--,” Logan started, and Patton swiftly tuned out the argument, remembering suddenly what he’d intended to check on. He hopped to his feet and checked on his ‘Humlilt bait’-- a small dish with sweet sliced fruit he’d set out.

Humlilts’s were relatively small, timid creatures, hoofed quadruped mammals that stood even shorter than Patton. They weren’t fond of being directly approached, and even initiating eye contact could scare them off, but if they took a liking to someone, they tended to be fiercely loyal. The fact that many had strayed from the nearby town was concerning, no matter the reason.

“Yes!” Patton chirped in glee when the plate proved empty, only a few spots of juice left behind. Behind him, the heated discussion faltered. 

“Something you’d like to share with the team, Feathers?” Roman asked, one of his ridged eyebrows twitching up curiously. Logan frowned at the dish, and Patton quickly replied before he could be lectured on leaving ‘fauna attractants’ out by mistake. 

“I’m one step closer to making a new friend!” he announced gleefully. “Good morning, little critter! Are you still around?” 

There was no response from the forest, but he remained cheerful, his antennae barely flickering. “Aw, feeling shy? I’ll befriend you yet, little critter, just you wait…” 

“Patton,” Logan started. “Do you mean to imply that last night, you intentionally placed food out to lure local creatures to our camp while we are in the middle of trying to track down an unknown, potentially dangerous beast?” 

“Of course not!” Patton responded, picking up the plate to stow it away. Before Logan could relax too much, he continued. “I’ve been leaving snacks out since the first day we made camp!” 

He scrunched his eyes closed to show his happiness, and not at all to avoid the incensed look Logan would be giving him right about now. 

“Have you any idea how dangerous—“ 

“Woah, Lo, it’s a-okay!” Patton hurried to reassure him. “I know for sure that it’s a little hummer and not anything else. The last two sunrises, when I woke up and greeted the day, I would hear it call back, just like the noise Logan said they make! The little critter is following us around, and soon we’ll be best buds, I can feel it.”  

Logan waved a spare hand dismissively, already well into his datalog, muttering as he scoured the articles he had saved for this journey for any mention of on-planet predator animals using mimicry. Roman shuddered his scales in fond exasperation, his tail thumping against Logan’s ankle.   

“Relax, Specs, I’ll be sure to protect us from any malignant beasties.” He paused, and then cast a slightly admonishing glance down at Patton. “That is, so long as there aren’t any more secret surprises you’ve been keeping from us, Pattoncake?”  

“No secrets here! The next time I try to adopt a new member into our little family, I’ll make sure to let you kiddos know in advance,” he chirped with his eyes crinkled. The gleeful expression didn’t fade a bit as his words prompted Roman and Logan to burst into brand new diatribes.  

“Wait, is ‘lure them with sweet snacks’ your usual go-to? Did that work on me--?” 

“Patton, we are not kidnapping local fauna--!” 

Yup, familiar sounds indeed. 

---

The rest of the morning was spent trekking through the woods and filling the air with companionable bickering, but by midday, Roman had found tracks. And then he found more tracks. And finally, he found The Tracks.

Unlike the first few instances, Logan was unable to confidently match the bipedal mammalian prints to any native creature in the area. After some triumphant crowing about his skills, Roman led the way with significantly less chatter, prompting the other two to follow suit as dusk slowly began to fall. 

Patton kept his feathers sleek against him so they wouldn’t brush roughly against the foliage, and made sure his glow was as muted as possible as the sky darkened. He didn’t come on bounty trips often, but every proper Ampen knew how to be stealthy when need be. Some made a whole career out of it!

Between one heavy step and the next, Roman suddenly stilled, holding up a clawed hand to ensure they did the same. His ear cones shifted subtly, searching. The moment stretched, tension so thick it felt stifling, and then--

A slight sound to the left. Movement.

“There!” Roman shouted, and a dark shape flashed past Patton, silhouetted by the moonlight off the pale rock wall behind it. It was big. Definitely not a Humlilt. “Cut it off!” 

Logan was already in motion, spines raised as he held out his staff and barred the creature's way. He flicked the glow light at the top of the staff on and illuminated the outline of the being, which seemed almost fibrous in nature. Patton knew of some planets with mostly chlorophyll-based lifeforms, and this almost seemed to match. The creature had a body erupting with brush and plant matter, and a face of flat wood.

“Drive it this way,” Roman called. “I’ve got the unit ready!” 

It hissed furiously as Logan swung the light closer, and Patton saw the moment it turned its head slightly and realized it was being corralled. It lunged forward in a feint, and then ducked away from Logan’s swing and grabbed the staff, wrestling viciously with the smaller alien for it. The reflected light seemed to shine eerily in the back of its hole-like eyes.

Patton hurried forwards, but he wasn’t close enough to stop the creature from wrenching the staff out of Logan’s grip, knocking the Ulgorian over in the process. Roman shouted, too far away to intervene. Logan shot a few spines, but they weren’t laced and barely seemed to phase the creature. It screamed gutturally as it lifted the staff up, and Patton forgot every promise he’d made to stay out of the way of any quarry larger than him.   

“Stop!” he screeched, throwing his arms out and letting his feathers flare up as bright as they could go. 

The distraction worked; the creature twisted away from Logan to focus on the new element, jolting forward a few steps before distinctly pausing, its shining eyes fixated on Patton. It took another smaller step towards him, tilting what Patton assumed was its head. 

“Little critter!” 

“Wh-- what?” Patton replied, stunned.

“Little critter? ...Good morning, little critter?” the creature chirped again, uncertainly. Every syllable was a perfect imitation of the phrases Patton had called out the three mornings they’d been there, just a little muffled.

The creature dropped to a crouch, and the abruptness of the motion made Patton flinch, startled. As though repentant, it set the staff on the ground slowly, and then made the distinct musical tone of a Humlilt. 

Patton gaped, the pieces clicking into place. Not a Humlit. The Humlit. The one he’d been working so hard to befriend, the one following them around, the one that apparently wasn’t a Humlit at all. 

In the next moment, Roman’s charging footsteps arrived, and all traces of softness vanished from the creature’s demeanor as it rose to its feet with a snarl, turning to face off against Patton’s crewmate. 

This isn’t right, Patton thought, and didn’t wait another moment before inserting himself between the two larger aliens, whistling shrilly. “Wait!” 

At his back, Roman skidded to a halt, incredulous half-formed protests spilling from his mouth. 

At his front, the creature held its aggressive position for a heartbeat longer, and then lowered its hands slightly, stumbling back a step and looking between Patton and Roman with uncertain antsiness. 

“Little critter? Little critter good?” it chirped, and Patton could feel the way Roman and Logan stiffened behind him. 

“Hey, little critter,” Patton said, slowly moving to sit down on the dirt. “I think we got off on the wrong claw. You don’t really want to fight, do you?” 

The creature shuffled anxiously, and Patton tapped the ground behind him. “Roman, why don’t you join me?”  

“Pat, come on,” Roman started, and then grumpily lowered himself to a seated position at Patton’s imploring look.

Across from them, the creature visibly relaxed, head cocking to the side inquisitively. After a moment, it lowered itself into a crouch like before. 

Patton’s antennae fluttered, and his happy glow increased slightly. “Good job! We’re already halfway to being friends, huh?” 

“Good,” the creature echoed, voice still uncertain and so small. “Hurt no?” 

“We won’t hurt you,” Patton replied, and the creature’s head lifted up to look at Roman doubtfully.   

After a moment, Patton heard the click of Roman’s scales flattening out in a show of nonaggression, and the Crav’on sighed. 

“On my honor, I won’t hurt you if you remain peaceable,” he said, extending a hand palm up to symbolize his oath. 

To their surprise, the creature reached out and touched him, grazing the dull talons and poking some of his smaller scales with cautious curiosity. It mumbled something to itself in a language Patton didn’t know, and folded Roman’s fingers into a loose fist before finally releasing him. 

“He’s pretty cool, isn’t he?” Patton whispered conspiratorially, and the creature held a hand out to him in a mirroring of Roman’s earlier gesture. He reached out and put his little clawed fingers on their palm, marvelling at the size difference. “You’re no critter, huh?” 

He turned to the side, the strange alien following his gaze. “Lo, I can hear you taking notes from here. You wanna come say hi?”

“Don’t patronize me,” Logan replied sourly, clasping his hands behind his back. “I simply didn’t wish to startle-- oh!” 

Logan’s eyes went wide as the stranger stalked over, body still low in its crouch. The behavior read as classically predatory, but the curious mumbling of the stranger made it clear that they weren’t acting aggressively. He hesitantly offered one of his own thin-fingered hands, the stranger pressing their palms together as though to compare the shapes. 

“Hello there,” he greeted belatedly. “Can you understand me? I am Logan, and those are Roman and Patton.” 

“Little critter!” the stranger offered enthusiastically, and then dissolved into another string of that unfamiliar language before bounding off and returning with the glow staff in hand. 

Patton could feel the way Roman went tense, but the stranger slowed down as they got closer and then set the staff on the ground a little bit in front of Logan, rolling it a few inches towards him.  

Logan made no move to pick the staff, and it was easy to see why. The fluorescent lights installed in the head of the staff lit the stranger up from below, illuminating the details that they’d missed before.

Four thin, pale limbs were smudged with dirt and grit, the edges of tattered old textiles peeking out from under the carpet of greenery that cloaked them. They could now see that the foliage wasn’t part of them, but a dedicated attempt at camouflage, built up for so long that some of the plants were growing around their shoulders or tangling in their dark hair. Most striking of all, the wooden plate that had covered their face had been knocked slightly askew, revealing half of a round face with big eyes and tiny features.    

“You’re just a fledgeling,” Patton said, something in his chest tightening at the way the child’s gaze flickered between them, nervous but hopeful. The curiosity, the nervousness, it all made sense knowing that this was a youngling.

“No, that’s not just a child,” Roman spoke up, shaken. “That’s… that’s a Human child.” 

Patton and Logan turned to him, shocked, but the child reacted the quickest of all, shooting into a standing position. They clumsily darted back a step as all eyes fell on them, chest rising and falling rapidly. “No! No! No Human, go away!” 

“Kiddo,” Patton tried, but before he could do more than reach out, the child turned on their heel and vanished back into the underbrush. The rustling of their movements quickly faded, leaving the three of them sitting in the clearing in silence. 

“Are you certain?” Logan finally said, rising to his feet and approaching them. “Roman, you’re absolutely sure about this?” 

“I… yeah.” The Crav’on flexed his hand, almost dazed. “I thought they would be more-- I mean, yeah, I’m sure. There’s no mistaking those eyes.” 

“Very well,” Logan nodded, hands already dancing delicately around him as he committed the encounter to memory. “In that case, I suppose we’ll be staying on-planet for a little longer.” 

“Wait, what?” Roman asked, both of them turning to look at the Ulgorian with surprise. 

Logan glanced up at them with a raised brow, knowing and smug. “I don’t believe either of you are the type to leave a semi-feral Deathworlder child alone on a planet where the locals believe them to be a monster. Thus, we are staying to help rectify the situation. Am I incorrect?”

“It’s not that simple,�� Roman cautioned, but faltered after a moment. “However… you’re right. We can’t just leave them here. They need help, Human or not.”

“That’s right!” Patton agreed enthusiastically, his feathers ruffling up in excitement. “Looks like we’re getting a new member of the family after all!” 

[starshipsofstarlord]

Growing Pains | TFW

Request:  Hey! Can I please request a platonic x reader with team free will 2.0? The reader gets turned back to a toddler by a witch and they try to ask Rowena for help but, the spell lasts for a week and it's just plain chaotic. The reader is extremely clumsy and hungry but knows a few words like "Hungry" and "Thirsty". The rest is up to you 😊. Thanks in advance!

A/N: It is a little different from the request, so I hope you don’t mind, also it’s not great. And I’m terribly sorry for the wait, I hope you can understand why xxx

Walking around the lab, you screwed your face up at the mess. It was like toddler’s had been let loose in the room, there was glass broken upon the floor, paper thrown out of the shredder, and worst of all, no one to condemn for the death of the scientist.

Sighing, you shut your eyes, leaning back into one of the counters. “So, the guy that was killed had like a dozen or so kids and we can’t find a single one of them, or the mother?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose as Cas circled the room once more, seeing if he could find anything that your human eyes had missed. But alas, there was no ultimatum, nothing that could direct the pair of you to answers.

“That sounds about right.” Dean’s gruff voice came from the doorway, stepping on shards of glass as he came closer to the two of you. “Although at this time, I am calling shots on the mom being the killer.”

“We don’t even know if this is up our alley Dean.” You sighed, opening your eyes and looking at the older hunter. “Did you get anything from the co-workers?” 

“Not a peep.” His tone was almost too cheerful, especially considering the circumstances. The group of you were nowhere near completing this case, and all he could think about was the burger joint around the corner. You were close enough to it, that you would give in and accompany him. “Who’s hungry?”

“After the sight of the guts strung in the ceiling fan,” you looked up to emphasise your point, “I think I may have lost what appetite that I had left.”

“Bad luck. You snooze, you lose.” With that he left the room, presumably heading off to stuff his face. It was impossible not to roll your eyes at his childish behaviour, although in all fairness, you should have been used to it by now. However your dear angel friend remained with you. 

“We should meet with Sam and Jack, and see if they have found anything in the house.” Castiel spoke, confused by the lack of evidence in this death. There was nothing that could have helped, even the majority of the man’s body was gone.

“Why would someone have that many children?” It was a rhetorical question, but just the thought of your body going through it’s natural process that many times made you shiver.

“To repopulate.” Cas put simply, although that was a straightforward fact. But that was not what you had meant, admittedly you had a soft spot for kids, even missed being one sometimes.

“I know, but doesn’t that seem sort of strange to you?” Your mind was spinning with all sorts of possibilities, of what could and couldn’t be going on. Unless, well... “It could be like some sort of supernatural litter, or they’re breeding test subjects. Is there even any record of them having that many children?”

Your conclusions made your friend frown, and he pointed his finger up, unintentionally pointing to the tendril of flesh that was hanging from the fan above.

“We should check the records.” And with that he grabbed your bag from just outside of the room, pulling your laptop from out of it. Just then, your phone began ringing. It was Sam, and so you answered.

“Hey, you find anything?” There was silence on the other end, until you heard the shrill sound of what you supposed to be a child.

“Was that Jack or -” 

“Hey!” The nephilim retorted. You could already picture the child like frown on his face, but before either of you could bicker about your comparison, the Winchester on call spoke first.

“She left one of her kids, and we found hex bags.” He breathed, relieved that this did in fact involve what you all were guessing to be a witch, yet also frustrated about how messy this all was. “But the thing is, this son of hers was closed in the basement, and the only thing down there for him to eat down there was a man’s leg...”

“We should get that tested, it could be the father.” You said, trying to think about this case adjoined with all of its new revelations. “So, what is her goal here, she’s trying to turn her own children into cannibals?”

“That’s how the ‘myth’ of the wendigo started in human folklore.” Jack commented, before he frowned. Him and Sam both let out shouts, making you fear for the pair. 

“Sam?”

“She doesn’t have any children, nor did he.” Cas spoke, the content on the screen disarranging this entire predicament further. “What just happened Sam?”

His breathing could still be heard from the other end of the line. It seemed like he was in shock of some sort.

“You’ve got that right, Cas.” He breathed, referring to the fact that she had no spawn. “And I suspect the others are like him. He’s just turned into a grown man, we’re going to attempt to get an answer to who he is. Be careful if you encounter Mrs Fletcher, both of you.”

So, now you had a presumed answer on how Mr Fletcher had died, you had to tell Dean. Quickly, you and Cas left the scene, looking for the elder Winchester, remembering to take any of your items with you.

“Thankyou.” You nodded, doing all of the talking to any police whilst Cas held your phone at an arm’s length. “Got any clues on where our witch works?” You asked him.

Sam replied soon, making the matter of reaching Dean that more prominant. “West Street, not far from where you are. At the burger joint, Paula’s.”

“Shit!”

-

When you and Castiel arrived, Dean Winchester was nowhere to be found. That fact had you deeply concerned, more so than you would usually be on a hunt. This presumed witch was targeting adults, and not only did he and the majority of you fit the agenda, but you didn’t want to know what would happen if you ended up disturbing her crosshairs.

There was no one inside, excluding yourself and the angel. It was eerie, almost too quiet to be owned by a witch. Scratch that, definitely too quiet.

“Behind the counter.” You nodded towards the door, taking the lead first, lightly pushing it. The bell atop of it jingled, making you blink hazily, before all turned to a deep gaze of pixels.

Castiel walked closer to you, tapping your forehead, but to no avail was your state resolved. Instead, you felt the need to collapse and keep your eyes contained behind their lids. And so you gave into that feeling, only hearing the voices of Sam and Jack before it was over.

-

When you awoke, you were in your bed in the bunker, but it felt much larger than it ever had before. There was so much room to move upon the mattress, the duvet even felt bigger.

As you looked down at your hands, you realised they had shrunk significantly. For all you were aware, this could all have been a very lucid dream, but you doubted that. As a hunter, the strange things were never false, they were real.

Attempting to leave your bed, you dropped your legs over the side, although they were now incapable of touching the floor. Instead of landing upright, you fell, causing a thud against the floor.

The sound had obviously rendered, and it removed all thoughts that were rattling around in your mind. Memories flashed before your eyes, sending a haze of dizziness to your shrunken body, until they all left, making you aloof in your own adult room.

Dean rushed out of his own reside as he heard the thud. He had followed the witch around the back and shanked her, but there had been a second plan up her long black sleeves. And he should have known, as he walked into your room, only to find a little girl with a strong resemblance to you.

This was her charade when alive, and the issue still stuck even now even when she was dead. Dean rubbed his face, feeling the muscles that were tensing beneath the skin. And now they were left with the outcome that they and you had tried to resolve.

Looking down at your youthful silhouette reminded Dean as to exactly why he hated witches so much. They were deceitful and cruel, and unfortunately so much more. “Sam!” He called out in a hurry, cradling your small, whining body in his arms.

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but your once fellow hunter would not allow you to do so. There was no logic turning in the cogs of your mind, instead, you were much rather shy to someone that you were viewing as a stranger.

In a flash, Sam was at the threshold of your door, looking in as it was ajar. He saw Dean with a kid, and there was only one explanation for it. They had been hustled whilst the witch turned in her grave...

-

Cas examined a book in the war room, whilst Jack followed his actions. Sam was on the phone with Rowena, asking, some would see it as begging, the witch to come and fix you up. And thus, Dean was left with you, whilst he nursed a beer in his opposite hand.

You tried to reach the glass bottle, but Dean jerked it away from your grasp. “No.” He warned you, having continuously done so before when you were too lazy to fetch your own from the fridge. But that didn’t stop you, instead it humoured you, making you laugh at the perceived game.

“Stop it.” He spoke again, making Jack laugh at your stubbornness which clearly hadn’t changed. For once, it was nice for him not to be the youngest in the room, even though technically he still wasn’t. But all got distracted when Sam huffed a sigh of relief over the phone.

“Okay, great. Me and Dean will meet you there.” And then he hung up.

-

Rather than being in Dean’s arms once again, you had been traded to Sam’s as the eldest drove Baby to the destination that Rowena had proposed. “Thirsty.” You mumbled, a gurgle following your very short sentence.

Sam looked at Dean, who only shrugged. He was unsure of what to do, they couldn’t stop at a gas station, otherwise they would miss their meeting with Rowena, and as they knew far too well, she was a tricky one to get a hold of.

“No you’re not.” Dean told you, trying to convince your mind otherwise to its actual thoughts. For the moment of which you were silent, he thought it may have worked, however the peace was not eternal, for you spoke again.

“Hungry.” You managed to speak next, making Dean huff from exhaustion. He thought of your need for a drink, and then it clicked, he tipped his head back at Sam.

“There’s a beer in the back.” It possibly could have rolled under his seat, these roads to the witch were bumpy. Sam gasped at the statement, placing his hand on your back as he bounced you and kept you distracted from your desires.

“Please tell me that you’re not serious.” At this point, Sam would not be surprised with his brother. Quite clearly, as much as the man adored kids, he was getting quite fed up with you in this state. It was day in, day out and yet the effects still hadn’t worn themselves out.

“She’s technically of legal drinking age.” He shrugged, remembering all of the times that you would steal his beer from the fridge, or even sometimes his hands.

“Technically,” the younger of the two pried, glaring at his brother, “currently she isn’t,”

“We’re here anyway.” Dean cut the conversation short, putting the car in park. For the first time in his life, the hunter and legacy was eager to see Rowena. Never did he think that day would ever come, but somehow your obliviousness had landed you all here, and he hated it.

Sam got out of the car, carrying you to a bench that Dean had decided to park his own rear on. There was a nice breeze whipping his hair before his face, and this younger you mirrored the reaction the elder one would have had.

You laughed, watching the swarm of locks cover his face, and move to the other side, with the swiftest and slightest motions as the direction switched itself up. 

Footsteps, clearly heels, could be heard clicking their way over. It was isolated in this park, presumably the redhead’s doing as she came into view with an amused grin stretching her chin.

“Well, if I was not already quite acquainted with the pair of you, I would presume the two of you were fathers to dear little (Y/N).” Rowena bent forward, ignoring the glares she received from the men, ogling at your youthful expressions. “Are you sure that you don’t want to keep her like this? She is quite adorable when she hasn’t got the brains to work with my son when the two of you dimwits think it fits into your narrative. Or hold a gun to the back of my neck and blackmail me with my own security.”

“Definitely.” Was Dean’s instant response. He could not do another day with baby you, he’d start going grey, or his eyes would turn black all of a sudden from pent up rage.

“Yes, Rowena.” Sam answered, bowing his head, as your fingers decided to thread themselves through his hair.

“Shame.” She pouted briefly, before waving her hand, and then you were, dazed, but sat in Sam’s lap, full size. As soon as you came to, your eyes widened at the position you were in, and you were quick to launch yourself out of it. He however sat there stunned. “Told you we should have called her earlier.” Sam said, still feeling awkward from your exchange, and Dean only grunted in a reply.

Dean knew for sure though, you had been a pain in the ass. If it ever happened again, he would just leave you with Jack and Cas.

[asian-hero]

Hey, Mr. Sunflower!

A/N: Hi I’m still reeling from bnha 290 spoilers but I did come here with a purpose so here’s the flower shop/tattoo shop idea I had

okay bye

Summary: Todoroki Shouto liked the comfort of his daily schedule. Nothing changed, and it was a fact that made him feel comfortable. However, when a new tattoo parlor opens up next to him, he finds his world turned upside down by the new neighbor and her big, dumb, grin.

Pairing: Florist!Todoroki/Tattoo Artist!Reader (fem reader)

Words: 9,128

Water the plants, create floral arrangements, interact with the customers, and close up for the day.

Shouto’s day could be boiled down to those four simple activities. Every day, he would wake up early in the morning to tend to his flowers, making sure to give each and every one of them the right amount of care. Then, he’d get ready to start the day, brush his teeth, get dressed, and, if he were lucky, have a quick breakfast before heading down the stairs and into his shop, where he’d open up and begin the workday. Most of his day would consist of dealing with old ladies coming in the morning to have a quick chat while browsing his selection, teenage girls coming in while not-so-secretly whispering about how “hot” he was, and late coming partners and first time dates who were desperately looking for something to impress their significant other. After the day was over, he’d simply clean up, lock up shop, and head back upstairs for the night, where he’d promptly pass out and then wake up the next morning, getting ready to repeat the entire process again. So, it was safe to say that Shouto developed a routine of sorts, one that was comfortable, one that made him feel in control.

Who knew that one heavily tattooed woman moving into the empty shop next door would wreck his whole routine?

It was a rather uneventful morning, nothing out of the ordinary as Shouto awoke in his bed. However, he couldn’t shake the slight feeling of impending doom that seemed to hang over his head. He didn’t let that disturb him, though, as he got out of bed, quickly getting ready so he could get a head start on the day. As he shut the door to his apartment, walking down the stairs to get ready for the day, he felt a content sigh slip from his lips. 

Tuesday. Though an inconsequential day to most, it was one of Shouto’s favorites. Tuesday’s were the quietest days at the shop, with only a few regulars, like Midoriya who worked part time at the post office, and Bakugou, who owned the cafe not too far from his own shop, coming in to yell at him about some minor inconvenience that must of been his fault. While the day was uneventful, it really helped Shouto deal with the issues of running a business by yourself. When there were no customers to tend to, he could work on the dozens of bouquet orders he had, or he could rearrange the flowers in his shop to be at the most aesthetically pleasing angles, as to enhance the experience of his customers. 

So, while Shouto was working on a bright bouquet of sunflowers, which, in all honesty, was too much yellow for him to look at, he didn’t expect someone to burst through the door with an equally atrocious bouquet in their arms, a confused expression on their face. When their eyes connected with his, their confusion blossomed into a wide smile, nearly blinding him as much as the sunflowers had. 

Putting his arrangement aside, Shouto cleared his throat. “Welcome, is there anything I can help you with?”

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but having a bunch of mismatched flowers being not-so-elegantly shoved in his face certainly wasn’t it.

“Hello! You must be Todoroki,” You spoke, your smile never leaving your face, “I’m (Y/L/N) (Y/N), your new neighbor!”

He continued to stare at you for a moment, his eyebrow raised as his face shifted from one of surprise to one void of amusement. When you noticed him eyeing the bouquet in your grip, you laughed, extending it towards the man once more, with one hand moving to rub the back of your neck awkwardly.

“Ah, I know that it’s a little weird to give a florist some flowers, especially since they’re from a grocery store and aren’t nearly as gorgeous as your own,” You started, eyes trailing off to look around at the shop, “But I wasn’t really sure what to get you, since I can’t really give out free tattoos,”

“Was there a reason to give me anything?” He asked bluntly, not making a move to take the flowers.

You pouted slightly, a sight that only served to confuse Shouto even more. “Well, I didn’t want to just come over empty-handed,”

He let out a small hum, acknowledging your words. After a few more moments of awkward silence, he gestured towards the door. “Well, was that all? Shouldn’t you be heading back to your shop?”

Though his words were a bit harsh, you didn’t let it deter you. Placing the bouquet onto the counter, you gave a small wave, your body moving on its own. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Sunflower! Feel free to do whatever with that bouquet, I won’t be offended if you toss it out! See you soon!”

As you left the store, you noticed a prominent blush on the man’s face, and you had to hold a hand over your mouth to keep in the giggles that threatened to fall from your lips. Though Shouto seemed to be a big, scary flower man, the pink tint that found its way to his cheeks made him look like an adorable toddler, and you promised yourself that you’d come back in soon. If not to see the man himself, then to at least see that blush one more time.

Once you were finally out of his sight, he let out an exasperated sigh. Of course, Shouto knew that someone had bought the shop next to him. Not only did the landlord inform him about the new tenant, but he also noticed the gigantic “sold” sign on the window while coming home one day. It was surprising just how fast the shop popped up, but to be fair, he wasn’t truly paying attention. He hadn’t expected that his new neighbor would drop in to say hello, especially with some grocery store bouquet. In fact, he expected that whoever bought the shop next to him would be just like his other neighbors: quiet and unassuming. However, with the interaction he just had with you, he figured that you would be trouble, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

The next time Shouto saw you was the very next day, when he was restocking the sunflowers, of all things.

It was around noon when he heard the soft chime of the front door, signaling a customer’s entrance. Putting on his “customer service” face, he looked over his shoulder, a tight smile on his face.

“Welcome, how can I—“ He paused, noticing your all black attire, a contrasting bright smile taking over your face, “Ah, it’s just you,”

You gave him a big wave, your entire body seemingly swaying side to side with the movement. Skipping over to where he was standing, you leaned forward a bit, trying to get a good look at his face. “Hey, Mr. Sunflower!”

“It’s Todoroki,” He blandly replied, not bothering to look at you as he continued to rearrange his flowers.

If his sharp words had any effect on you, you didn’t show it. Instead, your smile seemed to grow even larger as you peered over at the sunflowers in his hands, and Shouto hated it.

“Wow, these are beautiful,” You gushed, not missing the way his cheeks flushed at your compliment, “I mean, so are you, but I can certainly see why you’re so popular!”

He couldn’t understand why on earth you liked these flowers, they were atrocious in every single way possible. From the bright golden color and how large they were, all the way down to the symbolism. Though, he supposed that if you resembled any flower in his shop, you’d have to be the one Shouto detested the most.

Shoving the last of the sunflowers into the holder, he sighed, making his way towards the counter, “Don’t you have a shop to run?”

“Nope,” You said, obnoxiously popping the ‘p’ at the end, “I don’t have any appointments until three,”

When Shouto didn’t respond to you, you shifted your weight so that you were leaning against the counter, your elbows supporting your weight. Looking around the shop, you couldn’t stop the big smile that split your face as your eyes came across a familiar arrangement of neon colored flowers.

“I see you kept my house warming gift,” You teased, enjoying the way Shouto froze at your voice.

Glancing over his shoulder, he cursed inwardly at the sight of them. Eyes moving back towards the arrangement in front of him, he spoke, praying that you couldn’t hear the minuscule shake in his tone, “I’m waiting for someone to pick them up. It seems as though someone has the same horrible taste as you do,”

He wasn’t really sure if he was insulting himself when he said that.

“Ah, so my bouquet was useful?” You asked, that teasing glint never leaving your eyes.

He scoffed, but didn’t say anything more. For a while, the two of you just stood there in silence, with the occasional rustling of stems and petals being the only noise in the entire store. Your eyes would run along the entire store, but you had to admit, the man in front of you was your favorite sight. Even though he was cold and short with you, he hadn’t outright told you to leave this time, so that was progress. As your eyes trailed down from his face to his arms, you noticed just how broad he was, a fact that you missed yesterday, but was a pleasant sight for your eyes. It was clear as day that he worked out, and fairly often, if his figure had anything to say about it.

If you were going on what the stereotypes dictated, then the two of you should’ve swapped jobs long ago. He was an intimidating enough of a figure to fit into your shop, and your personality seemed to fit his shop more. However, you quite liked the fact that Shouto worked in a place like this, even though you hadn’t known him for long, you could see that he really cared about his shop, about the customers that came in. Though you’d never admit it, you remembered coming in around a year or so ago, significantly less tattooed up and more introverted than you were now. You remembered being smitten by the aloof and seemingly uncaring heterochromatic man, watching as he kindly helped out an elderly man pick out some flowers for his wife who was in the hospital. You remembered when he walked over to you, asking if you needed help, if there was a specific flower you wanted, and you stupidly said you wanted a bouquet of sunflowers, and soon enough, they became your favorite flower.

You wonder if he even remembered such an insignificant interaction.

While you were absorbed in your own little world, you didn’t notice Shouto finish the arrangement he was working on, pushing it to the side and giving you a weird stare. He knew you’d been staring at him, and, even if he didn’t like you, it still made him nervous. He didn’t like feeling nervous.

Deciding that he’d seen enough of you today, he gestured towards the door, “Well, I’m taking my lunch break now, please leave,”

You laughed, and that sound only made Shouto’s nerves sky rocket. “You don’t want to have lunch with me?”

“I could not think of anything else that I’d rather do less than that,”

You placed a hand to your heart, a small pout on your face that almost made Shouto take it back. However, at your poorly concealed giggles, he looked at you exasperatedly. Waving your hand, you gave him one last smile, “Alright, alright, I’ll get going. See you later, Mr. Sunflower,”

Your full blown laughter was the only thing that could be heard when Shouto had once again corrected you. 

Taking in a deep breath, he briskly turned around, about to head back up to his apartment when he paused, the sight of your neon flowers catching his eye. Walking towards it, he found himself subconsciously stroking one of the petals, picturing the bright smile you gave him when you so confidently shoved them into his face. Biting the inside of his cheek, he carefully scooped up the vase in his arms before heading back up. 

There was no reason to throw away perfectly good flowers, even if they were the ugliest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

After that interaction, Shouto found his normal daily schedule be disrupted by your presence. Every day, you’d somehow manage to find the time to walk into his shop, say hello, call him “Mr. Sunflower,” and then loiter around until he either asked you to leave, or the shop got too busy. On the busy days, he was grateful to be surrounded by customers so he wouldn’t have to talk to you one on one. Though he wasn’t entirely sure of the reason, you somehow always made his heart rate spike, and he didn’t like it. So, if the store was packed with customers, then he wouldn’t have to deal with you. 

Today was one of those busy days, but rather than feeling relieved, Shouto only felt stress and anxiety.

Friday’s were usually the busiest days for Shouto, and his workload only grew larger at the prospect of prom nearing the corner. Not only did he have to work on the bouquet orders for his regular customers, but also on last minute corsage orders and walk-ins, all of which made Shouto’s stress levels spike to an already high average. So, when you walked in, in all of your smiley glory, he only felt his nerves shoot up.

The first thing that you thought of when you walked into the flower shop was how packed it was. Of course, you knew that he was a very popular florist, and his shop was usually busy, but this time it was almost unbearably packed. As you scanned the crowd, you made eye contact with the very stressed looking flower shop owner, and all ideas of teasing him and making his life harder left your brain, the only thing you wanted to do in that moment was to take away some of that stress.

Making your way through the crowd of people, you popped up by the register, clearing your throat to get his attention. Smiling sympathetically, you leaned in close, lowering your voice so only he could hear you, “Hey, Mr. Sunflower. Busy day?”

He didn’t even look up at you, too busy to stop what he was currently doing. “I’m busy at the moment, go find someone else to bother.”

When he didn’t even correct you, you knew just how stressed the man was. Before you could even offer your services, a rather shy looking girl came to the front, her hands shaking ever so slightly.

“Excuse me? I just had a quick question,”

You could hear the sharp intake of breath Shouto took, and before he could even look away from what he was doing, you smiled at the young lady, “What’s going on, honey?”

At the nickname the girl’s face flushed, and you had to hold back a giggle at the reaction. “Well, I know it’s too late to ask for a bouquet for tonight, but I got in a fight with my partner and I wanted to get her some flowers, I just don’t know what I should get,”

You hummed, tapping your lip as you cycled through your limited knowledge of flower meanings. As your eyes scanned the shop, you brightened up visibly once you found what you were looking for. Wrapping your arm around her shoulders, you ushered her through the crowd towards the tulips, giving Shouto a thumb’s up behind her back. Once you made it to the tulips, you picked out a few nice looking white tulips, carefully fluffing them out before handing it to her. 

“I know they may seem unassuming, but white tulips are typically associated with apologies, so it may be good to start with these,” Patting her shoulder, you winked, “Of course, nothing’s better than a heartfelt apology, but I’m sure that these will help.”

The girl let out a noise of confirmation, whispering a quiet “thank you” before following you back to the register, where you hopped behind the counter to ring her up.

“How much are tulips?” You asked Shouto, leaning a bit to the side.

“A dollar a stem,” He mumbled, handing what had to have been his fifth bouquet of the hour to another customer, “Six for a dozen.”

Ringing up the girl, you quickly wrapped up the tulips in some white paper, carefully arranging them to appear fuller before bidding her a good bye, wishing her luck. You could tell that Shouto wanted to ask you something, but before he could even speak, another customer had called for your attention, and the two of you fell back into work mode.

After what had to have been at least two hours, the shop had finally died down, and you were finally able to let out a deep breath. Stretching your arms above your head and closing your eyes, you let out a low groan, happy to finally take a break.

Once you had finally reopened your eyes, you noticed Shouto staring at you with a blank expression. Tilting your head, you frowned. “What? Why’re you looking at me like that?”

“Why did you help me?”

“Ah, ever the blunt one,” You spoke, your trademark smile appearing on your lips, “Well, if you must know, you looked pretty stressed, and what kind of neighbor would I be if I let you suffer all alone?”

“One who minds her business,” He speaks, but you can tell there’s no malicious intent behind it.

Letting out a loud laugh, you smacked his arm, stifling your giggles as he rubbed his arm, “Hey! I did pretty good, okay? You could at least say ‘thanks, (Y/N).’”

He rolled his eyes, and you were fairly certain that he was ready to kick you out. So, moving to leave, you gave him a peace sign. However, before you you closed the door, you heard him call out to you. 

As your eyes landed on him, Shouto felt his breath catch. “Thank you, (Y/L/N),”

Feeling your face split into a huge smile, you waved one last goodbye.

“Anytime, Sunflower.”

The first time that Shouto ever saw the inside of your shop was a few weeks after you helped him out. Of course, it wasn’t by choice. Midoriya had practically begged him to come along because he wanted to get his ears pierced but he had no one to come with him. When Shouto asked why he needed someone to come along with him, the green haired man said he was nervous and needed someone to be there for him. By that point, Shouto had already been convinced, and the very next day, he shut down his store early in preparation of Midoriya’s impending piercing appointment.

“So,” Shouto started, putting his keys back into his pocket, “Where are we going?”

Midoriya gave him a confused look, almost as if he didn’t quite understand the question. Pointing towards your tattoo shop, he rose his eyebrow. “Here?”

At that, Shouto felt his mood turn sour. Now of course, was he grateful for your help on Friday? Absolutely. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done if you didn’t step in and help him. However, despite his slight gratitude towards you, it didn’t overpower the overwhelming feeling of anxiety that consumed him every time you were around. Whenever you waltzed your way into his shop, he could feel his throat close up, his hands start to get sweaty, and whenever he did speak to you, it always came out as short, slightly shaky answers, and he hated it. 

Even so, he promised Midoriya that he’d be there for him. So, Shouto held his pride as he walked through the door to your shop, his eyes immediately landing on your figure, hunched over from laughing so hard at something your blonde haired friend had said. Though he wasn’t sure why, he didn’t like the way the other man looked at you. Once again, you made Shouto feel something he wasn’t used to.

At the sound of the door opening, your head immediately turned towards the front, a wide smile already on your face, and once you noticed who exactly was in your shop, you thought your face may as well split open.

“Don’t think I have you scheduled for an appointment, Mr. Sunflower,” You drawled, enjoying the way his face glowed with embarrassment, “Or did you just miss me?”

“It’s Todoroki,” He lamely responded, before clearing his throat, “And I’m not here for you,”

Shrugging your shoulders, you let out an obnoxious sigh. “A girl can dream,”

Looking over to the confused green haired man next to him, you gasped, clapping your hands together. “Ah! You must be Midoriya, my two o’ clock appointment!”

Before he could even get a word of confirmation out, you hopped from behind the counter, grabbing Midoriya’s hand and pulling him towards your piercing section. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you smiled at him through the mirror. “So, tell me all about what you want,”

It took longer than you expected to calm the poor boy’s nerves in order to get a coherent thought from him, but once he finally told you what he wanted, you asked Denki, your only employee at the moment, to go and grab the needles while you put your gloves on. Once everything was in place, you had to physically hold yourself back from audibly cooing at the sight of Midoriya grabbing onto Shouto’s hand, squeezing it while you pierced his earlobe.

After a few more seconds you moved backwards, placing your hands on your hips in pride. “We’re all done! They look great!”

As he moved to get a closer look in the mirror, you nudged Shouto with your elbow, a small smirk playing at your lips. “So, are you here for something, too?”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m not letting you near me with any sort of needle,”

“Hey!” You whined, smacking his arm lightly, “It’s not like I’m going to puncture a hole in you by accident or something!”

Before he could even get in another sarcastic comment, another voice beat him to the punch:

“Yeah? Tell that to the multiple scars on my arms!”

Both of you whipped your heads around, greeted by the sight of Denki sitting on top of the counter, his arms holding up his weight as he leaned back. Letting out another loud gasp, you took off one of your gloves, chucking it at him.

“Kaminari Denki I am your boss and I will be treated with respect!”

The man in question gave you a mock salute before moving to ring up Midoriya. Playfully shaking your head, you let out a few giggles at how ridiculous your friend was. When you looked back up, you noticed Shouto was still standing next to you, looking at you with another weird expression that you couldn’t quite place. It seemed to be some odd mixture of his natural blank stare, a hint of annoyance, and, if you were to guess, jealousy? Deciding that it’d be in your best interest to tease him, you took a step closer, a curious glint in your eye.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?”

He continued to stare you down, though it didn’t have nearly the same amount of annoyance as it usually did. When you noticed that he didn’t seem to be in the mood to banter with you, you reached for his arm, gripping it lightly. You didn’t even say anything about how he tensed beneath your touch, not wanting to annoy him.

“You doing okay, Mr. Sunflower?” You asked, tilting your head, “You’re not responding to my child-esque flirting with unbridled sarcasm and annoyance,”

Shouto turned his head to the side, focusing on anything but you, “Maybe I’m just tired of your constant talking,”

Pointing an accusatory finger at the man, you spoke, “Ah! You didn’t even try to correct me when I called you ‘Mr. Sunflower!’ Something’s clearly wrong,”

Once again, Shouto didn’t respond, but you noticed the flush that was slowly starting to creep from his neck. Deciding to take pity on the poor man, you took his hand in yours, trying not to think too much into it when he didn’t pull away, “Sorry, didn’t mean to be pushy, just wondering where my grumpy flower man is,”

He wasn’t sure why, but seeing your face fall ever so slightly stirred some emotion inside of him, and it wasn’t the usual spike of annoyance or flutter in his chest. No, it almost felt like, guilt? Before his brain could even think about his actions, he squeezed your hand lightly, finally looking you in the eye.

“Izuku wanted to grab lunch before I go back to the shop,” He started, suddenly feeling a wave of nervousness wash over him, “Are you busy?”

You blinked once. Then twice. Then three times just to be sure. Staring at the man in front of you, you wondered if he was somehow an imposter, and the real Todoroki Shouto was locked away somewhere. As your mind continued to reel from what just happened, Shouto began to grow even more anxious, pulling his hand away from yours and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Don’t worry about it, I was just trying to be ‘neighborly,’ or whatever you call it—“

“Hey you can’t take it back!” You interrupted, frowning as you stared at the hand that left yours, “This is the first time that you’ve been somewhat nice to me, there’s no way in hell I’m saying no! Denki can take over for a while,”

You called over your shoulder for the last part of that sentence, sticking your tongue out when the blonde haired idiot gave you a sly wink. Turning back towards your flower man, you linked your arm with his, tugging him towards the entrance, where Midoriya was giving him a teasing look. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Lunch with you turned out to be one of Shouto’s favorite moments.

After the first lunch together, the two of you found yourselves growing closer. Every day, you’d come into the shop around noon, laugh as he told you for the umpteenth time that no, his name was not “Mr. Sunflower,” and then you’d ask him to have lunch with you, an invitation that Shouto always accepted, though he’d make a fuss about it. Afterwards, you’d walk him back to his shop, hands intertwined as you swung them back and forth, and every time, he would let you.

It was such as strange concept to him, blatantly showing affection, as if no one else were watching. He wasn’t even sure why he let you hold his hand, why he didn’t complain when you linked arms with him. He also didn’t know why his heart would speed up every time you did that, or why he’d feel nervous whenever you gave him one of your trademark grins. 

Though, perhaps the most troubling of them all, he didn’t mind that you made him nervous.

He found that out one day while you were hanging out in his shop, seated upon the counter while you watched him close up shop for the day. It was like any other day, with you loitering around as you please while he tried to get some last minute work done. However, it somehow felt, different. With all of the time that you two spent together, hanging out like this, in complete silence, it almost felt domestic. 

As he continued to restock the more popular flowers, you admired how careful he was when handling the plants. It was amazing to you how, someone seemingly so “cold” and “uncaring” could be so kind and nurturing when it came to his shop. Whenever you’d pop in on busy days, you’d always be reminded of the fact that the aloof exterior was simply a mask, and you’d find yourself getting embarrassingly soft when he’d interact with the customers with such a kind smile. Though of course, you loved to tease him, in fact, it was probably one of your favorite hobbies, you also felt your feelings for the man grow overtime. As the months passed, and the two of you grew close, you often found yourself daydreaming about simple domestic things, like hugging him tightly, or pressing a kiss to his cheek. There were also times that you’d have, less than wholesome thoughts, and every time those thoughts were front and center, you’d become a flushed mess, doing your best to hold in your embarrassment. 

Eventually, Shouto had turned around to start on the other side. Once he noticed your gaze, he furrowed his brow, stopping in his tracks.

“What are you looking at?”

Not wanting to be caught in your embarrassing train of thought, you said the first thing that came to mind, “What’s your favorite flower?”

“My favorite flower?”

You nodded, figuring that you may as well continue on this track rather than your not-so-savory one, “Yeah, I mean, you already know mine, but I’m curious to see what a florist’s favorite flower is?”

He let out a hum, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Amaryllis’ are nice,” Gesturing towards the section of amaryllis, he continued, “They’re my mom’s favorite.”

You nodded your head, a teasing glint in your eye, “Who knew Mr. Sunflower was such a softie,”

“You know that’s not my name,”

You laughed, “I know, I know, it’s Todoroki—“

“It’s Shouto.”

Feeling your eyes widen, you watched as he continued on with his tasks, not even phased at the fact that he just gave you permission to call him his first name. Shaking yourself from your momentary shock, you spoke once more, hating the way your voice wobbled slightly.

“Oh? So you’re finally accepting my presence now?”

He simply shrugged his shoulders, but you could’ve sworn that you saw a grin tugging at his lips. “You’ve already squeezed your way into my life, so what’s the point of last names?”

With your heart beating out of your chest, and your face growing hot, you had to bite back a face splitting smile that threatened to take over. Hopping off of the counter, you made your way over to Shouto, finally deciding to act on your emotions. Quietly, you wrapped your arms around his torso, your face pressed against his back. At first, you felt him stiffen at the contact, and you almost pulled away, if it weren’t for the hand that snaked its way down to cover yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

With a soft voice, one that was uncharacteristically quiet for you, you spoke:

“Well, good luck getting rid of me now,”

He scoffed, continuing to rearrange the roses in the holder. Mumbling something so quiet that you couldn’t really make it out.

“As if I ever wanted to,” 

His feelings for you only grew after that moment. Every time that you’d walk into his shop, a bright smile on your face and that stupid nickname coming from your lips, his day would immediately brighten. Though at first you may have been an inconvenience to him, someone who wrecked his schedule without a second thought, now you were the one interaction that kept Shouto going. He always appreciated how sweet you were, how you forced him to take lunch breaks, even if he didn’t want to. Even when you came a few minutes after closing, when Shouto had locked the front door, seeing you repeatedly knock on the glass until he opened it for you did something to his heart.

So, on one night, when the store had been closed for just a moment, he wasn’t surprised to see you tapping on the glass door, a paper bag hanging off your arm.

“Couldn’t you have dropped off your groceries before you came in?” He asked, letting you walk in.

You didn’t respond immediately, opting to first put the bag down first before pointing an accusatory finger at the man. “You.”

He blinked, pointing to himself. “Me?”

You nodded, an angry little pout on your face, one that made him have to hold back his laughter, “When’s the last time you ate?”

“The last time I ate?”

Huffing, you took a step closer poking his chest with your index finger. “Quit repeating me! You didn’t come with me for lunch because you wanted to get some work done, and a little blonde haired porcupine told me that you haven’t moved from the counter all day,”

Shouto coughed, masking his laugh, “Katsuki’s going to hate that name,”

“You think I care about what he thinks?” You spoke, a small smile threatening to form, “Now c’mon, you can finish cleaning up later, we’re going upstairs and I’m going to make sure that you eat,”

Without even waiting for him, you turned on your heel, grabbing your bag and heading up the stairs. Shouto waited just a moment longer, watching as you disappeared from view. Though you two had eaten together many times before, this time, it felt different. Perhaps it was the fact that you were about to see his home, or the fact that it was dinner. Whatever it was, he was more nervous about eating now than he had been before. 

Slowly, he followed you up to the stairs to his apartment, unlocking the door for you and shutting it closed. As you made your way to the kitchen, going on about something that happened at work, he couldn’t shake the feeling of how stupidly domestic all of this felt. It seemed almost normal, how lively the place felt when you were in it. He rather enjoyed the way you waltzed right into his home, as if it were the millionth time you’d walk through those doors. For the first time in a while, the place felt like home.

Looking over your shoulder, you found Shouto staring at you with a fond look in his eyes, so tender that it made your heart do flips and the butterflies in your stomach start to flutter. Cocking an eyebrow, you placed a hand on your hip.

“Aren’t you coming?”

Your voice had pulled him away from his thoughts, and a light pink flush grew on his cheeks. Heading towards the kitchen, he sighed, “Don’t count on me to be any help, though. I’m not the best in the kitchen,”

Setting down your bag, you hummed, pulling out the ingredients to make pasta. “How bad can you be? You’re still alive well into your twenties,”

“I live on instant soba.”

Slowly, you turned your head to look at the man, an unamused glint in your eye. When you saw no signs of him joking, you spoke up, “Okay, let me rephrase my previous statement: I have no idea how you’re still alive,”

He shrugged his shoulders, helping you pull out the rest of your groceries. “Spite,”

With that, you spent a majority of the time teaching him how to at least make a simple pasta recipe. While it wasn’t the healthiest thing up your sleeve, it was at least better than eating instant soba for a month straight. Once your dinner was finished, the two of you went to sit on the couch, where he promptly apologized for his lack of furniture.

“I don’t usually have people come over, so there was no need to have a dining table, or any other unnecessary furniture,” He said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Figures. You seem like a homebody,”

The look he gave you nearly made you choke on your noodles.

The two of you continued to chat long into the night, and way after the two of you had finished your meals. You talked about anything and everything, from silly, light hearted topics like the newly turned adult who came into your shop the other day, looking to get an obnoxious tattoo, or when Shouto overheard some old lady talking about how she’d like to “jump his bones,” to the more deep topics, like his relationship with father, how he wanted him to take over his business, or how Denki was your only friend growing up, since you were often looked over, and that’s why he was your only employee at the moment. 

“You know,” You spoke when the conversation seemed to die down, “When I first came in to introduce myself, it wasn’t my first time in your shop,”

“Really?”

You nodded, an embarrassed giggle coming from your lips. “Yeah, I came in about a year ago, just browsing around,” Slyly, you eyed him up, “You could say that I came for the flowers but stayed for the florist,”

He snorted, leaning back against the couch. “Stop,”

“What? Don’t pretend that you don’t enjoy my flirting,”

“I’m not pretending,”

Shoving his shoulder, you let out a loud laugh, enjoying the way his eyes crinkled at the side.

By the time that either of you checked the time, it was nearing midnight. 

“Oh God,” You exclaimed, standing up from the couch and brushing off your thighs, “Sorry to keep you up so long, I should probably get going,”

Before you could even shuffle over to the door, a hand on your wrist stopped you. Looking back at Shouto, you gave him a questioning look.

“You should stay here,” He started, before hastily adding, “It’s late, and I don’t want you to walk by yourself. You could take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,”

You bit your lip, clearly thinking about your options. He smiled, squeezing your wrist gently, just enough for your attention to fall back on him. “I don’t mind, it’d make me feel better to know that you were safe,”

Not wanting to ruin the moment, you mindlessly nodded your head. As his hand let go of your wrist, you stepped closer, pressing a kiss to his cheek before you could even think twice about it. As you pulled away, you turned straight towards the bedroom, letting out a short “good night, sunflower” as you walked away.

Raising a hand to touch his cheek, he watched wordlessly as you disappeared. Feeling an embarrassingly large smile come onto his face, he covered his face with his hands. Peeking through his fingers, he let out a noise of content.

“Good night, (Y/N),”

After you spent the night, things only seemed to grow more flirtatious between the two of you. Your comments, while at first could be equated to a kindergartener’s version of flirting, had now become full blown pick up lines that would leave Shouto flustered. Even though he’d tell you how much he hated it, he secretly thrived off of the comments you made. Though, his favorite comments of yours were when you genuinely complimented him. Whether it be about how pretty you thought his bouquet looked, or how pretty he looked, you could always find a way to make him feel like a teenage boy. 

Whenever you’d smile at him, or laugh at something he said, he would always feel his heart rate spike, and his face would start to mirror yours. He remembered the first time you saw him actually laugh, the way your face softened. Such a look of tenderness had both excited him and terrified him at the same time. If he were to be completely honest, every aspect of you terrified him. He was scared that one day, you’d realize how he’s not worth the trouble, how you could find someone much better than him. Both of these being ridiculous thoughts to him, seeing as how he hadn’t even confessed to you. At the same time, though, a selfish part of him wanted to hold onto you for as long as he could, and he refused to simply let you go.

However, sometimes things don’t go your way, and you end up pushing those who you care about the most, away.

Thursday. What should’ve been a rather uneventful day turned out to be Shouto’s living nightmare. First off, he’d received a phone call from his father, with the usual disappointed tone and questioning of when he was going to sell the shop and come to work for him, how this wasn’t how he raised him to be, all of the usual nonsense his father would spew. But, for some reason, those biting words seemed to have an effect on him today, and it had already sent Shouto down a negative path.

His time in the shop wasn’t much better either. At first, the day had been calm, with only a few customers coming in. However, just as soon as noon came around, when he’d usually close shop for a few hours to get lunch with you, a whole wave of annoying, demanding customers had come in. At first it was a group of obnoxious teenagers who thought it’d be fun to mess around in his store, which, in turn, had to have been the least annoying group he had. The next group was an entire bridal party who all had contrasting opinions on what flowers should be used, what colors, and even how they should be arranged, all of which gave Shouto a massive headache. By the time that the bridal party had left, it was already the busiest time of day for him, and he didn’t get to even stop for a breath until it was closing time.

As he was sweeping up, doing his best to contain all of the day’s pent up frustration, you walked in. You were a little saddened at the lack of reaction from the florist, but didn’t let it deter you as you walked over to where he was sweeping, moving to pull the man into a hug.

“Hey, Mr. Sunflower, you’ve been busy today,” You teased, eyebrows furrowing just slightly when he didn’t return your affectionate gesture, “I didn’t even get to see your gorgeous face the entire day,”

He didn’t respond to your flirting, only pulling himself away from your grasp and continuing to clean up. A small frown tugged at the corners of your lips, and you couldn’t help but worry about him. Walking alongside him, you refrained from touching him, but you leaned forward slightly, wanting to catch a glimpse of his face.

“Mr. Sunflower, are you doing alright?” You asked, and when you noticed that he tensed at your voice, you reached a hand out to him, “Shouto, what’s wrong—“

“You know, you can be really annoying,”

You froze in place, surprised by the sudden hostility. It had been quite a while since you’d last heard him speak to you like that. “Excuse me?”

He whipped his body around to face you, everything about his posture practically screaming with fury. “Normally when someone ignores a person, the other one gives up and leaves, but you don’t seem to get that. No, because even when I make it very obvious that I don’t want to talk to you, you seem to have the mindset of a stubborn child who won’t take no for an answer. I’ve told you multiple times that my name isn’t ‘Mr. Sunflower’ and I feel that you should’ve gotten the hint that I don’t like your company,”

Shouto wasn’t really sure what was coming out of his mouth, but at your shocked expression, he could tell that it wasn’t kind. Still, even though you were hurt by what he said, you stood your ground, crossing your arms.

“Shouto, why are you so upset? What happened?”

He let out a loud sigh, rolling his eyes. “Have you ever stopped to think that you’re what’s making my mood sour? I’ve been doing fairly well until you showed up,”

It was a lie, but for some reason, in his anger clouded mind, he wanted his words to hurt.

You didn’t seem upset, though, only unamused by his actions. “So you’re saying that all of this is because I just walked in here and said ‘hello?’”

“Well, I was doing fine without you,”

Your eyes darkened, and for the first time, Shouto saw your face shift from the usual happy-go-lucky persona into something more serious, more guarded. Before Shouto could even think to say anything else to make it worse, you took a step away from him, not wanting to deal with this any longer.

“Fine,” You spoke, no emotion in your voice, “If I bother you so much, then you don’t have to worry about that anymore. I’m not just going to stand here and be your verbal punching bag just because you had a bad day.”

With that, you turned on your heel, promptly exiting his shop and heading back to your apartment. As you left, a part of Shouto felt bad, really bad. He knew what he said was wrong, and he knew that he shouldn’t have taken it out on you. However, still reeling from his outburst, he didn’t bother trying to chase you down, nor did he listen to his conscience telling him to apologize. No, instead he continued to clean up, only stopping when the floor was entirely spotless and his arms and back ached from all of the movement. 

Locking the front door, he stomped up the stairs, not bothering to change out of his clothes as he flopped onto his bed, willing himself to fall asleep and be done with the day. As he faded out of consciousness, the last thought on his mind was your shocked face when he hurled insult after insult at you, and he could feel his heart sink to his stomach.

The next morning, when he woke up in a significantly better mood, he hurriedly got ready for the day, messily pulling his clothes on while brushing his teeth. Once he felt that he looked somewhat presentable, he ran down the stairs to the shop, not even turning the “open” sign as he shoved his way through the door. Jogging over to your shop, he steeled his nerves as he opened the door, only to find himself face to face with Denki, whom, upon seeing Shouto’s familiar red and white head of hair, gave him an amused look.

“Anything I can help you with?” The blonde asked, his arms crossed against his chest.

“Where’s (Y/N)?”

Denki smiled once more, though upon closer inspection, there was no warmth behind it. “Why would I tell you that? After you so nicely told her to fuck off?”

Shouto winced at that. He knew that he’d been unnecessarily cruel, but he wanted to at least try and make things right. So, rather than coldly telling off your only employee, he bit his tongue.

“I know I messed up. I shouldn’t have been so rude,” He paused as the other man scoffed, muttering something under his breath, “But I’m not used to dealing with these feelings, and I want to apologize. It’s the least she deserves,”

Denki eyed him up for a while, a silent war brewing in his head. He knew that you told him to not be too rude to Shouto, that you understood that there was something bothering him, but that didn’t make his outburst any less inappropriate. He knew that you were too nice for your own good sometimes, and even though he wanted so desperately to yell at the man in front of him, he also knew from the look on Shouto’s face that he seemed genuinely remorseful. So, he sighed, pretending to inspect something on his nail.

“She’s not here,” He started, and, deciding to play with the man a little, he continued, “Try tomorrow,”

So, Shouto did just that. For a week straight, Shouto would come back to your shop, in hopes of talking to you, apologizing for what he said. But, every single day, he’d find out that you weren’t there, and Denki would tell him that he should try the next day. After the fourth day, he wondered if you were avoiding him, though he understood if you were. Though he wondered if he should just take the hint and leave you alone, since it seemed as though it were the case. 

Nevertheless, Shouto still came in everyday, in hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of you, and, two weeks after your initial fight, he finally saw you. 

It was towards the end of the day, when Shouto was just about to close when you noticed you pushing your front doors open, hoping to get some air circulation. Without thinking, Shouto quickly went to reach for whatever flowers were left for the day, not wanting to go empty-handed. Grabbing a few stems of sunflowers and a couple red tulips, he quickly made what had to have been one of the most bright, atrocious looking flower arrangements in his entire career, and ran out his door, only taking a pause before entering. Once he managed to gain enough courage, he walked through to your shop, immediately greeted with your laughing figure, and Denki’s eyes landing on him, and the scene almost felt nostalgic. At first, the other man’s eyes widened just a bit, shock apparent on his face. However, his face quickly morphed into one of amusement, slapping your back as he whispered something to you before heading towards the door, getting ready to leave.

“Hey, Denki! Am I just supposed to close up all by myself—“ You cut yourself off once you saw Shouto standing at the front, a nervous look on his face.

Moving out from the counter, you stood in front of the man in question. “Todoroki? What are you doing here?”

Trying to mask his surprise at the use of his last name, he instead thrusted the flowers in front of him, signaling for you to take them. “I’ve been wanting to apologize for a couple weeks, but every time I came in, you weren’t here,”

Cautiously, you took the flowers, stroking one of the petals. Looking back up at him, your brows furrowed, confusion written all over your face. “I’ve been back at home, didn’t Denki tell you?”

He stared at you for a moment, no emotions crossing his face as he planned a way to get back at the man. As soon as you sighed, he was pulled away from his thoughts, instead focusing on your expressions, trying to figure out what you were feeling.

“So,” You started, trying to brighten the mood, “I wasn’t good enough for the fresh flowers?”

That only seemed to make it worse, as Shouto’s face fell, his hands wringing together. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were here, but when I saw you outside I just wanted to talk to you as soon as I could, but I didn’t want to leave empty-handed, and I know you like—“

“Todoroki,” You interrupted, reaching a hand out to rest on his arm, before hesitating and pulling away, “I was just teasing. I didn’t mean to make you nervous,”

“Please don’t call me ‘Todoroki,’”

“Ah, sorry, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to call you by your first name—“

“Call me ‘Mr. Sunflower,’ your ‘grumpy flower man,’ or any other ridiculous name you come up with,” He spoke, his own hands reaching out for your free one, “I’m sorry that I was so rude when you came in that day. I was having a bad day, and everything was just piling up, so I just took it out on you. It wasn’t fair, I know, and I should’ve just told you then that I wasn’t feeling okay.

I’ve just never really had anyone care about me like you, so when you kept pushing, asking me what was wrong, I didn’t like how it made me feel, so I wanted to push you away before anything could happen,”

Frowning, you squeezed his hand. Tugging him towards your counter, you gently set the flowers to the side before hopping up into a seated position, making yourself eye level with him. Softly squeezing his cheeks in-between your hands, you pulled his face closer to yours.

“How do I make you feel? Uncomfortable?”

When he shook his head, you hummed, about to pull away before his hands moved to grip yours, holding them against his face. “Annoyed?”

“Not typically,”

“Scared? Upset? I can’t read your mind—“

“Excited,” He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Nervous, happy, I don’t know how to explain it. You make me feel both like I’m the most fortunate and unfortunate man in the world, and I don’t know what to do about it,”

You felt your breath catch, your heart rate begin to rise. Letting your hands fall from his face to rest on his shoulders, you gave him a kind smile, one, you hoped, showed him that you felt the exact same way.

“Well, should I be the first to confess, then?” You playfully sighed, sheepishly smiling when you noticed his face fall ever so slightly, “Sorry, I don’t think I’ve grown out of the kindergarten phase just yet.”

Pressing a kiss to his left cheek, just below his scar, you let yourself enjoy the way he tensed beneath you. Once you pulled away, you grinned. “I like you,”

“Really?” He asked lamely, and he reveled in your giggle that came next. 

Nodding your head, you pulled him in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yeah, for some reason I’m really into emotionally stunted men. It’s truly my most toxic trait,”

At the deadpan look he gave you, you let out a cackle, slapping the back of his neck gently. “I’m kidding. My type is the secretly soft florist who works in the building next door. Know him?”

Scoffing, he playfully rolled his eyes, his arms wrapping around your waist. He enjoyed your little yelp as he pulled you in even closer, his hands rest dangerously close to your ass.

“Yeah? Well, let me tell you a secret,”

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he allowed himself to be overtaken by the very emotions he thought were troublesome. Pulling away, he realized that he quite liked the breathless look you gave him.

“I think he likes you too,”

[kyidyl]

Kyidyl Explains Bones - Part 6

(All of these are under the KyidylBones tag.) 

Age Determination 

Well, age at death anyway.  I’m gonna put this warning up front: 

Today’s post will contain pictures of the skeletons of children.  This is something that a lot of people, even those who think they won’t be bothered, find upsetting.  This goes double if you actually have children.  This post will also include frank discussion of child death.  

You have been warned.  

So what is age determination? Age determination isn’t the process of figuring out how old a set of remains is, it’s the process of figuring out how old the individual was when they died.  Because of the sensitive nature of the topic, I’m putting everything behind a cut today.  

Ethics: Beyond the normal respectful approach, there aren’t separate ethical considerations with dealing with age like there are for sex and race.  Just be considerate of the fact that child death is super upsetting to some people.  I literally had people in my classes at the masters level who were moved to tears by some of the younger remains, so even when you’re used to looking at things from a clinical perspective, kids can be tough.  

General: Age is separated into three general categories: juvenile (0-early 20s), adult, and elderly.  Juveniles are from birth until the last known skeletal change takes place.  IE, until all your teeth come in and all your bones fuse.  These are really good indicators of age, so we use them as much as we can for as long into the lifespan as we can.  Adults range from “done growing” to “showing signs of degeneration” EG, arthritis and that kind of thing.  Elderly is anything older than that.  

Also, this applies to all age categories: size is not an indicator of age.  Ever.  

Juveniles: We say juveniles instead of children because people in their late teens and early 20s aren’t really children, but they haven’t finished growing yet.  So juvenile is a more inclusive term, and the more accurate one.  That said, kids are by FAR the easiest to know the age of.  Juvenile remains do not look like small adult remains, because juveniles that have skeletons that do not resemble adult skeletons beyond the basic “ah, that’s probably a human”.  

There are a few ways that we determine the age of a juvenile, and the first thing we check is the teeth.  Before the body, before any other signs.  Because the teeth are consistently accurate across race, sex, economic standing, any pathologies, etc.  Teeth are formed and come in on a schedule.  Here is that schedule: 

And here is a link to a high res PDF version that you absolutely should take a look at (Source).  

Beyond this, the 3rd molar AKA wisdom teeth come in between ages 17-25.  Now, archaeological remains won’t have scars on the bone from the wisdom teeth removal that a lot of people commonly undergo, but in the future that will be visible on the bone.  I’ll get into this more when I get around to doing the damage and pathology posts, but healed bone has a different appearance than unbroken bone, so a healed-over tooth socket has a different appearance than bone that never had a tooth there to begin with.  In addition, while tooth eruption in a living juvenile is accepted as the time when the tooth breaks through the gums, in the remains of a juvenile we can see un-erupted teeth within the jaw.  It looks like this: 

(Source) 

As an aside: those lines on the teeth are called enamel hypoplasia, and I’ll cover it more in the teeth post, but essentially if you don’t get proper nutrition as a child when your adult teeth are developing in your jaw you get these lines in them.  

So anyway, because teeth come in on such a precise schedule, and because teeth survive better than anything else in your body (especially in a child’s body.  Childrens’ bones are fragile, partially ossified, and they decay quickly.), they’re very good for estimating age at death.  Even more so than bones, because bones can be altered by illness, malnutrition, repetitive activity, or genetic anomalies.  Teeth almost never are.  Or, rather, their rate of growth isn’t.  

Another thing we look for when determining age at death is the fusion of the bones.  See, as you’re growing you have more bones.  Those get larger until they meet up with the bone they’re part of, and then they start to fuse.  These are called epiphysis (growth plates).  Very young children don’t even have entirely ossified (bone instead of cartilage) bones, let along epiphysis that touch.  Babies don’t show up often in the archaeological record because of this. To better illustrate this, here is an image of an xray of a baby’s hand: 

(Source) 

You’ll notice that the finger bones (Metacarpals and carpels, known collectively as phalanges.) have small little bones at the ends that aren’t attached - that’s not an anomaly, that’s normal.  Those are the physis, which will fuse later in life after they are larger, and the plate between them from which they grow is the epiphysis.  You can also see that the wrist bones have barely begun to ossify and don’t show up on the xray, and the physis for the radius and ulna (arm bones) also haven’t begin to ossify and thus don’t show up - that’s why the arm bones look like one bone.  They aren’t, they have an epiphysis at either end (Your elbow is a separate bone called the olecranon and it doesn’t fuse until later on.).  This happens at a very predictable rate, and so we can tell how old someone is from a combination of their teeth and which bones have and have not ossified and fused.  In addition, the bone of the epiphysis has a unique texture that is referred to as “billowy” in the literature (even tho I hate that word).  Here’s a picture: 

(Source)

The one on the left is what you want to look at, since this is a progression through age.  Also I sniped this from a paper on age estimation, so if you’re interested in this take a look at it.  It’s on researchgate so it’s not behind a paywall.  As an aside: researchgate is amazing and you should all learn to use it.  

Anyway, see that bumpy texture on the left? That’s what unfused bone looks like at the growth plate.  This actually applies to, as far as I know, all land mammals.  So if you find animal bones with this texture at the end of the bone, then that animal was a juvenile when it died.  Bones fuse at different times in your life, but we know the times when they fuse.  There are 206 bones in the adult body, so that would be a lot for me to try and put in a tumblr post, but if you google a specific bone you should be able to find the ages they fuse.  I believe, if memory serves, that the skull sutures are the last to fully fuse, and they in fact continue to become more tightly fused as your life goes on. I’ll cover that in the next section tho.  It will hold together as a teenager, but the skull bones take a long time to fuse to each other.  Two of the last epiphysis to fuse though are the iliac crest (The curved part of the hip - it’s actually its own separate bone.  Like just the small, smooth curved part.) and the sternal end of the clavicle (clavicle = collarbone, and the sternal end is the medial part towards the sternum.).  This happens in your early to mid 20s.  

So teeth and bone fusion are the two most used methods of age estimation.  So if anyone ever shows you a small skeleton with fused bones and calls it a child, roll your eyes at them.  It’s not a child.  

One last note on juvenile skeletons: until the individual undergoes puberty, sex and race determinations are extremely difficult (teeth can be used for race, but not for sex.  Not really, anyway.).  So again, anyone who professes to know the sex of a set of pre-pubescent remains without like...a gravestone or something telling them is probably a liar.  Right now the methods for doing that are either expensive (genetics) or inaccurate.  And doing genetic evaluations on old juvenile remains is difficult, because their bones are more fragile than adult bones and break down easier, which exposes the DNA to easy degradation.  It’s not impossible, it’s just usually more difficult and more expensive.  

For reference, here is a juvenile skeleton laid out in standard anatomical position.  There is more than one individual here, so ignore any of the bones outside the arms and above the head.  

(Source)

Adults and the Elderly: After an individual finishes growing, estimating their age becomes increasingly difficult.  There’s no such thing as, for example, an average number of tooth cavities.  In addition, the natural growth and destruction of your bone cells over your lifetime means that things you do habitually can significantly alter the shape of your bones and the rate at which they break down.  

However, there are a few things that can be used.  Joints wear down at a fairly consistent rate, and arthritis leaves specific markers on the bones that we can identify as arthritis rather than normal wear and tear.  This is most easily views in two places: the public symphasis (the front where your two hip bones meet.) and the acetabulum (The socket that the round end of your thigh bone is in.).  The picture I used above is an image of the wear and tear seen on a series of pubic symphysises (symphysii? IDK.).  And so these are matched against skeletons whose age at death was known and age ranges for changes to this area were arrived at.  

When I was doing my MSc, we did a project where we were assigned a set of remains and had to use everything we’d learned in the course to do a full evaluation of our skeletons.  Well, the majority of my skull was missing and so I used the acetabulum to do age estimation on the skeleton (I had some teeth, but not most of the ones that are diagnostic of age, which I’ll cover in a sec.).  This is an image from and a link to one of the papers I used: 

(Source)

Two things happen here as you age.  One, the edges of the socket become damaged and it starts to change the anatomy (F is oldest).  Two, that space in the middle is called the acetabular fossa, or the acetabular notch.  And as you can see, the shape of it changes over time due to normal wear and tear.  In combination with resources like the one I linked, we can use this to estimate the age of an adult or elderly individual.  

Another tool we use has to do with the fusion of your growth plates.  After the bones fuse, the line is still visible.  Throughout your life the remodeling (normal breakdown/growth of bones and healing from damage.) causes the sutures to be come less and less visible.  We call this obliteration.  In the elderly, most of their sutures and growth plates will be completely obliterated.  For example, the femur is in four pieces as a child.  The main body of the femur, the head of the femur, the greater trochanter (The big bump on the top outside.  This is like...the part that’s wides below your hips where your thigh meets your pelvis, but on the outside.), and the condyles (the rounded pieces on the far end.).  The greater trochanter fuses and obliterates pretty early on, but the head and the condyles are pretty easy to see even in adults.  Here’s an example showing the femoral head: 

(Source)

As you can see, the trochanter has fused and is obliterated, but the head has fused and you can still see the line from the growth plate.  The sutures in the skull are especially good for this, as cranial sutures take the majority of the lifespan to obliterate (sometimes they never fully do.).  If you see a smooth skull, that person was ooooold.  

The last easily accessible way we assess age at death is via tooth wear.  Now, this won’t work in modern skeletons, which is why there’s a lot of research surrounding the evaluation of age at death.  We’re well aware that after humans entered roughly the industrial age, our foods became soft and teeth no longer wear like they should, and after that point in time it’s not possible to use the standardized methods of tooth wear to evaluate age.  Well, I should rephrase, it won’t be possible in westernized and industrialized societies.  Cultures in Africa and South America that still practice pastoral or hunter/gatherer lifestyles will likely still have expected tooth wear.  Anyone who lives in a society that has and uses grocery stores or doesn’t use two rocks to mill flour (Do not underestimate how much bread people ate.), is not going to have expected tooth wear (so it’s not about rural vs city.).  

See, it’s normal and natural for teeth to wear.  It’s normal and natural for the yellowish substance below the enamel, called dentin, to show.  Dentin is almost as hard as enamel, and it actually regrows.  We evolved to have tooth wear both on the surfaces and between the teeth.  Humans used to eat much tougher foods, and even when we weren’t, our foods had a lot of grit in them (IE, tiny pieces of stone from milling flour.  I have a whole ass theory about the role of dirt in the evolution of teeth for all animals but that’s neither here nor there.) and wore our teeth down.  Wear isn’t a sign of bad dental hygiene, it’s a sign of a tougher diet.  After the industrial age we started using different methods to produce food and started eating softer food overall, so we stopped putting the stresses on our jaws required for both proper tooth wear and the proper growth of our teeth (AKA: wisdom tooth impaction.).  So normally worn teeth look like this: 

(Source for both images)

If you’ll notice in that top image the lines where the teeth meet fit exactly together.  This is because of tooth wear.  Interestingly you’ll also notice in the bottom image that this individual’s teeth are unevenly worn, meaning they chewed on the right side of their mouth.  This is actually something we see all the time because of both handedness, and insult to the teeth on one side of the aw (AKA it was painful cause they had cavities.).  This individual was likely a young adult given that they don’t have a lot of tooth wear to begin with, but they were preferentially using one side of their mouth to chew and so it is more worn than it would be for someone who wasn’t doing that.  Here is the chart we use to grade tooth wear and age on adult teeth: 

(Source)

That link has a larger version of the chart and more images.  

So the fact that I’m 40 and still can feel all the cusps on all of my molars is an anomaly compared to previous humans.  Soft foods.  So if you compare the above image of the jaw with the chart, you’ll see that the individuals in both pictures have wear in the 25-35yrs old age rage, or what we would consider to be a young adult.  And before you start talking about average age of humans back in the day, don’t forget that the average includes a lot of dead children.  Once you made it to adulthood you lived a decent amount of time.  

So those of you who are older than your 30s or so might not remember this, but when your adult incisors come in they had small ridges on the edges.  It was easier to tell on your top teeth (maxillary incisors) than your bottom ones (mandibular incisors.), but it’s present on both.  These bad boys: 

(Source)

That is obviously a living human, but I’m showing you because they wear quickly.  They do, however, wear at a prescribed pace so if a set of remains has them they were young.  Sometimes they’re gone before you’re even an adult, but I figured I’d mention them because they are another kind of tooth wear.  

Disease: The last thing that helps in age determination are age-based diseases.  Namely, osteoarthritis and osteoporosis.  There are circumstances wherein someone younger can have both of those pathologies, but that’s why we have all of the other things.  So if we see signs of arthritis in a younger person, we’ll have the other signs to help us realize that they aren’t an elderly individual.  

Osteoarthritis is, essentially, a thinning of the cartilage, fluid, and other soft tissues in the joints, causing the bones to rub against each other instead of sliding nicely on the cartilage.  Now, a certain amount of thinning is expected with age - obviously, as arthritis in the elderly is extremely common even now.  But osteoarthritis is an escalation of the normal wear and tear into a pathology.  Osteoarthritis damages the joints, and so bone attempts to regrow, so you see a lot of abnormal outgrowths of bone that fit tightly together because they were rubbing against each other.  You also see, in extreme cases, striations on the bones where they were grinding together.  Like this: 

(Source)

This is a knee joint, viewed from the posterior side.  You can see on the bottom condyle and the opposing articular surface that there are lines.  Those lines are from the bones grinding.  You also can see, especially on the tibia, all those little funky looking bone bits.  All that roughness sticking out around end, below the flat surface.  Some roughness there is normal, but that’s rougher than it should be and that’s the result of osteoarthritis.  

The other disease common in the elderly is osteoporosis.  Osteoporosis is an illness that causes compact/cortical (the thicker hard bone around the spingy bone to thin and become porous (hence the name.).  I’ve held bone with extremely advanced osteoporosis and they are about half the weight of normal bones.  So that’s the first sign.  The next sign is that they’ll be damaged, both from the natural processes of time and from subsequent handling, because they’re farm more fragile than health adult bone.  The vertebra also take on a “squished” appearance due to the forces of gravity and the remodeling during the life of the individual.  You also will often see poorly healed breaks (I’ll show you more of this later in this series when I get to pathologies.).  

So that brings us to the end of the bit about age determination.  Hope you guys are enjoying this series. :) I think next up is gonna be teeth! =D 

[minmotl]

Chapter 66: Tang Fan Realizes He Cannot Lose Sui Zhou

Context: Sui Zhou, Tang Fan and their men head into one of the tombs together after finding remnants of the missing villagers right outside the entrance of a tomb. One of the men’s lower body has already been eaten up, and they are sure that there is a sort of creature and monster in the tomb, and hence decide to visit and clear this case once and for all. 

They are accompanied by the old village chief’s oldest son, and once they are there and get into trouble, Tang Fan and Sui Zhou finally find out who this son actually is - Li Man, Tang Fan’s previous landlord before he moved in with Sui Zhou, the man who plotted to kill his own wife and then let his son go to prison in his stead, and let him die there before fleeing with his new pregnant mistress. Turns out that Li Man is actually affiliated to the White Lotus Sect.

After his identity is exposed as they are all trapped in the tomb, Li Man takes Tang Fan hostage, but Sui Zhou to the rescue! As they try to get out alive while battling the creature physically, and also dealing with scheming mastermind Li Man and less-than-cooperative subordinates, Tang Fan and Sui Zhou really have their work cut out for them. 

*Do read the previous highlight Ch. 60-61 to find out who the village chief and Tang Fan’s uncooperative mofo of a subordinate Yin Yuan Hua are, and also a refresh on the case XD Qian San Er is a young boy, thief-turned-ally that follows Tang Fan from this case onwards and later works for him

*No major Fanzhou ROMANTIC moments in this chapter, but they’re trying to save each other and trying to outwit the bad guy, and also the creature is this huge-ass crocodile that eats people lmao, and they’re trapped in the tomb ;-; 

Sort of MAJOR FANZHOU MOMENT AT THE END of this chapter!!!

Introduction Post | Masterpost

—

Highlights under the cut

Li Man is just realising how extremely useful a hostage is, and before he gets a chance to put his hand on Tang Fan’s neck, a sharp pain comes from his exposed back. He cannot help but cry out in pain, and then the person he caught to play his human shield earlier is gone. The side of his arm has taken a heavy hit, and the pain he feels has him loosening the hold on his blade uncontrollably.

It is but a short moment, but the situation has already changed significantly.

Li Man is originally a businessman and his skills are nowhere better than Tang Fan’s. Otherwise, he would not have been unsure about how much force to use when he took up an axe earlier to slash at others. His two henchmen, however, are clearly more skilled than he is, as faced with the closing in of the Embroidered Uniform Guards, they managed to struggle a little before being forced to surrender.

“What are you guys doing here!” Li Man glares at the person before him in disbelief after his arms are restrained ruthlessly behind his back.

Fate is playing tricks on him. All that he put Tang Fan through earlier is now being applied on himself.

An Embroidered Uniform Guard walks over and then pushes the stone door open slowly. Under Li Man and his henchmen’s glares, Pang Qi walks in with a large gait from the outside, bringing with him Qian San Er and others. The stone door then closes shut heavily again.

The threat they felt from the approaching tomb beast earlier seems like just an illusion.

Sui Zhou personally unties Tang Fan, and asks, concerned, “You’re alright?”

“I’m good,” Tang Fan shakes his head, and then looks around his surroundings.

From the decor, the huge hall they are at is actually at the core of Marquis Gong’s tomb. the coffin in the center is where Marquis Gong’s corpse is located, and the floral patterns on top of the coffin confirm Tang Fan’s earlier guess, that this is indeed the tomb of a former Marquis of the Qin empire.

However, because this central hall’s space is larger, on the left and right there are accompanying side halls that emulate the place the tomb owner was staying in when he was alive. Li Man and the rest of them only lit up a single light. As a result, aside from this small circular area near the light, other parts of this hall are shrouded in darkness.

Stuck in such an environment, it is natural to look towards the light and avoid the darkness, so people consciously turn their eyes towards where there is light, and when these eyes look towards other places, they will be temporarily blinded.

Sui Zhou and his men made use of this to first hide within the accompanying side halls, holding their breaths so they could strike accurately when Li Man’s defences are down.

Although Li Man also realises this, he is still in disbelief, as he always seems to lose to his own plans and fall into Tang Fan’s hands repeatedly.

“This is impossible, my people definitely lured you away, how did you run here from that side?”

Sui Zhou does not pay him any mind, and looks first to Tang Fan instead.

Tang Fan jokes, “Because Sui-zhenfushi is both smart and legendary in combat, and common people are unable to see through him!”

Sui Zhou’s eyes reveal a tinge of mirth, but when he turns towards Li Man again, his expression has returned to its cold and firm state, “The set up laid in this tomb, we already knew most of it before we came down here…”

Before he can finish, Li Man shouts, “Impossible!”

There is naturally a reason behind him saying that. When royals are buried, to prevent tomb robbers, not only must there not be any details left behind for transfer, sometimes even the architects behind the tomb construction have to be killed as well. Or even like how Cao Cao did it, setting up 72 decoy tombs - this was all to confuse the people left and absolutely prevent robberies.

Although doing this may not be entirely effective, everyone has always done it this way in history, so being a little more careful and meticulous will not go wrong.

This tomb is located under the Yong Hou Tomb, and there aren’t many people who know this, not to mention anyone knowing how it’s been set up.

Facing Li Man’s ‘I am cultured so you better stop lying to me’ expression, Tang Fan patiently explains, “Before I became an official, I once wandered the world and came across the region of Shan Xi. There are plenty of tombs there, and it is said that the Zhou royal family’s tomb has long been emptied by local raiders, but the burial mounds and archaeological site are still intact. Under my observations, I realised that the structure of these sites are more similar than different.”

“Yong Hou Tomb only has two levels in the underground palace, this is clearly written by those who have come here before. Ancestor Song Ying was buried in a hurry, and so any secret passages were unable to be built. Although you are not the real Liu Da Niu, but to lure us down here, you put in quite a bit of effort.”

“Not everything you said is fake, at least half of it is real, and Qian San Er did not lie, so combining what the both of you said, then it is not difficult to conclude that when you said there was a third level in this tomb, this means that there has to be another royal member’s tomb.”

“So I took note of this, and looking through local records, I realised that this used to be the land of the Gong Empire, belonging to the Zhou emperor Wang Ji. The Zhou empire practiced gifting their land to accomplished officials, and a small empire like this, all infrastructure must have imitated that of the Zhou royal family’s, including their tombs.”

Li Man continues, “So you applied the set up you saw in the Zhou dynasty’s tombs in Shan Xi over here.”

Tang Fan nods in agreement, “Exactly, but this is equivalent only to trying to draw a tiger by looking at a cat - it is not possible for every tomb to look exactly the same, and even if we know the gist of the set up, there will definitely be differences in between. For example, the traps in this tomb, we couldn’t have known this first. But it is precisely at this moment that you did us a huge favour.”

Li Man’s voice is hoarse, “What favour?”

Tang Fan says, “After we came down, there were plenty of scattered treasures, but there were no bodies. If the creature swallowed the meat and bones together, this I can understand, but from what Qian San Er described, we know that when Li Kui and the rest came down here and fought with the creature, this was surely a nasty, tough fight. So the places that we passed by, it is impossible for them to be so clean. No matter how aggressive and fierce this creature is, one or two limbs or body parts would surely have been left behind. Since this is unnatural, something must be amiss. Someone must have deliberately cleaned this place up in hopes of luring us down here.”

“Very logical,” Li Man says, “And?”

“Since you deliberately lured us here, then you must first ensure your own safety. You couldn’t possibly have allowed yourself to fall prey to the traps, so Sui Zhou and I felt at ease, enough to bring the men down here.”

“I remember that when I was about to kill you, the creature shrieked,” Li Man says, his eyebrows furrowed.

Tang Fan makes a noise of assent, “Qian San Er.”

Hearing his name being called, Qian San Er walks out from the dark calmly, and then shoots Tang Fan a grin, deliberately sucking up to Tang Fan. Then, he brings his hand to the side of his mouth.

A chilling sound echoes, and this is exactly the sound of a ghost crying that they heard earlier!

Li Man and his two henchmen’s eyes go wide.

Qian San Er straightens, his chest protruding outwards and traces of smug delight on his face, “I don’t only know how to steal!”

One must know that his ventriloquism skills are top notch in the Huang He Gang, otherwise he wouldn’t have been brought over here by his shifu to keep watch. Although he was not of much help, but at critical moments, it’s not that he cannot be assigned tasks, and case in point, Li man and the rest were deceived.

The plan was actually very simple. Li Man planned to lure Sui Zhou and his men away and was prepared to first kill Tang Fan and Yin Huan Hua. Who knew that Sui Zhou and the rest of them were already prepared and tackled his scheme with one of their own? Through the White Lotus Sect disciple who wanted to lure them away, they instead managed to figure out all the traps here.

Plus the preparation that Tang Fan made prior to this, having understood the environment and infrastructure before coming down here, as long as they walked about, they would no longer be confused by the misleading traps.

At this point, Sui Zhou and the rest realised that the Tang Fan and Yin Yuan Hua (who were trailing) behind them have vanished. And as Tang Fan knows Sui Zhou, Sui Zhou knows Tang Fan equally well. He knew that Tang Fan would surely think of ways stall for time and await their rescue. The only problem was how they were actually going to meet - And so Sui Zhou asked Qian San Er to mimic the cries of the creatures, all to drive Li Man into the main hall.

And that’s how they have come to the situation before them.

***

Suddenly, Yin Yuan Hua picks up his foot and kicks at Li Man viciously. He demands, “What about the treasures? Where did you hide them all?”

Both of Li Man’s hands are tied up, but he does not get angry at being abruptly kicked to the ground. He only pants, his breaths harsh, “If I tell you, will you guys let me live?”

Yin Huan Hua is still holding a grudge against them for having tied him up earlier and laughs coldly, “All of you tried to rebel and create chaos in the world. It’s already the best case scenario to not have your whole family die to pay for your sins, but you still want to live? if you don’t come clean, just wait to die here!”

As if he heard the biggest joke in history, Li Man suddenly descends into a bout of laughter, and the intensifying pain warps his smile even more.

“What are you laughing at!” Yin Yuan Hua grows cold at his laugh, and almost kicks at him again, but Sui Zhou stops him.

Li Man is laughing uncontrollably, so much so that tears have emerged. He then turns a creepy smile onto Yin Yuan Hua, “I’m laughing at your stupidity! I said so much only to stall for time, so that I may live longer, and then your death sentences will arrive!”

As if in response to Li Man, the moment he finishes speaking, from outside the stone door, an eerie wail resounds from the distance.

Everyone’s expressions change slightly.

Li Man laughs, “I said before that the tomb beasts move when they smell blood and are exceptionally sensitive when it comes to the stench of blood. My blood is bringing them close, and so what if you know all of this? At the end, you still have to die here!”

Heavy thuds echo from outside the stone door, as if an external force is striking against it. In the beginning, the force used was to test the door, but as the door is firm, (the creature) increases its strength. The stone door and the whole hall along with it is struck with so much force that they are shaking slightly, scattering plenty of dust to the floor.

Li Man is still laughing, “This secret will forever be buried here, you will never make it out!”

The back of his head is hit heavily by Pang Qi, “You will also have to die here, what rubbish are you saying, think of something!”

Li Man sneers, “I am indebted to the almighty Sect, without it, there would be no wealthy and successful Li Man. My time to repay my debt has come, and to be able to drag all of you to die with me, I will not die in vain!”

While he is speaking, the stone door is again struck heavily (from the outside)! Originally, this door can only be opened with some clever handling, and for humans this is not a difficult thing, but for a ferocious beast, the stone door before its eyes is an obstacle. However, the tomb guarding beast outside clearly is intelligent, and after repeated strikes proved futile, it gradually stops its attacks and instead shifts to other various methods to try.

The people inside the stone room originally thought that even though they are temporarily unable to leave, the beast cannot enter either. As long as they patiently waited for time to pass, after it lost its patience it would leave naturally, but when they see the stone door being pushed open slowly from outside, they cannot help but be terrified.

A black claw that is as sharp as that of a bird’s, but is a few times larger than a normal bird’s, presses in from the gap made by the door. With the force the beast exhibited outside (earlier), if the claw caught onto one of them, it’s likely their heads would split on the spot.

Once they get to this thought, everyone shudders.

Sui Zhou yells, “Hurry go and hold the door!”

Even without him saying this, many people have already rushed forward and are using their bodies to completely jam the door.

However, the external force is too great, and even though everyone is expelling a majority, if not all of their strength, they only manage to push the door back by just a bit. Before any of them can heave a sigh of relief, the stone door is slammed against hard once again!

A lot of them were still stuck to the door, and are shocked immediately, their four limbs going numb and their strength leaving them.

Another strike from outside!

Once more!

And one more time!

Sui Zhou says grimly, “Prepare the hand cannons!”

With this reminder, a lot of them then remember that they did bring their hand cannons with them. Embroidered Uniform Guards with the hand cannons frantically stuff gunpowder inside, and nervously point the barrels towards the stone door area, waiting for this door to collapse…

And yet, whatever negative thoughts they have are realized, and before they are fully prepared, the door is already unable to withstand this huge force. It splits into two pieces and collapse towards the back. Some of them did not evade this in time and are trapped right there and then.

Along with the stone door being destroyed entirely, the heavy stench of blood blows inwards, and everyone almost throws up.

The only candle flame in the hall is extinguished.

***

Yin Yuan Hua leans against the wall as he shakes, and is exposed and unguarded as the creature’s claws sweep over. His face is flushed white, his eyes staring ahead, forgetting to even react to this.

At this time, it is Tang Fan who is right next to him, who reaches out with a hand and tugs him over. Yin Yuan Hua stumbles and barely dodges the claws, and the sharp tips of those claws swipe over the wall, leaving behind three deep claw marks.

If he was still standing there, then right this moment, there would be another corpse with a cut open belly.

Yin Yuan Hua shakily pants as he depends on the wall for support, not quite believing that he managed to escape from death’s clutches then.

“Go to the side halls!” Tang Fan shouts, totally different from his usual gentle, polite self.

He expended a lot of energy earlier to tug Yin Yuan Hua (out of harm’s way), and at this point, his pallor is not any better than the other man’s.

But the next moment, danger descends once again.

The beast seems to have realised that there are two more easy targets here, and it turns its head, its mouth opening wide and sharp white teeth close in.

From Tang Fan saving Yin Yuan Hua to the creature turning its head over, all these happened in merely a blink of an eye!

The beast is unable to bite at two people at the same time, so its very first target is Yin Yuan Hua. His face remains pale, but this time his reaction seems to be faster than the previous time.

There is no time to flee - the creature’s body is much larger than theirs, and so it has already blocked off all their paths for escape.

This time, Yin Yuan Hua finally reacts.

He chooses to tug Tang Fan over on one hand and hide behind him on the other, prepared to use Tang Fan as a human shield to slow down the beast’s progress. After that he will plan his retreat.

He did this in a flash, and no one would have expected him to do this!

Tang Fan is no longer able to hide or dodge in time! Seeing that his shoulder is about to be bitten off like what happened to an Embroidered Uniform Guard earlier, something flashes in Tang Fan’s eyes, and then the creature’s teeth bites onto a xiuchun blade instead!

It’s Sui Zhou!

At the last moment against all odds, Sui Zhou rushed over and with just the force of a single arm, he blocked the beast’s attack with the blade in his hand!

The edge of the blade causes the beast’s soft mouth to bleed, and it bites on the blade in a rage, then throws ruthlessly, sending Sui Zhou flying to the wall right that moment.

Sui Zhou falls heavily, and spits out a mouthful of blood.

“Guang Chuan!” Tang Fan rushes over to pick him up, his eyes going so wide in fury that they are about to split.

Sui Zhou’s face is as white as joss paper, his eyes shut tight. He is likely to have injured his internal organs, and doesn’t even have the strength to talk at that moment.

The warm body in his arms is pressed so close to him, but in that moment, Tang Fan has this sudden fear and uneasiness at the thought of losing him.

The earlier half of Tang Fan’s life - his parents died earlier and his older sister married out of the city. He thought he was alone, that he had no ties or worries, living freely without restrictions. He also thought that even if he was unable to continue being an official, at most he would just put up his hat and leave.

In this lifetime, he thought that perhaps there was nothing he could not let go.

But right this moment, Tang Fan then realises just how much Sui Zhou means to him in his heart. 

So much that he cannot bear the reality of losing the other.