#we know we should clean but were not taught how to approach it until it seems like this impossible task

[sexc-snail]

One "tip" (I guess?) that has been revolutionary to me is that you do not have to do things the way they're shown.

I could never get consistent workout routines bc I didn't want to change into workout clothes and then sweat in them and wear sweaty workout clothes but I didn't want to change twice to go from PJs -> clothes -> workout clothes -> PJs (or workout clothes -> clothes) or even; clothes -> workout clothes -> clothes again

Until I realised I can do yoga in my PJs (which are very breathable and won't make me sweat as much) if I have a fan/AC on.

Also, I live out of town so I will straight up go on a 3.5km walk before running into anyone so I can just wear PJs and walk (especially if they look like regular clothes just in case)

Another point being you don't have to follow a single route for a walk - you can set destinations, make it fun (I will walk until I see something yellow then from there until I see something blue, etc.), Or just walk back and forth in the area you're comfortable walking in.

Kill the cop in your head, there is no such thing as cringe.

(I literally use Pokemon go to track how far I go bc I like walking the Pokemon and it keeps a routine that reminds me to walk)

This works for other things to - it doesn't matter how crazy or weird you look so long as you are enjoying it;

I've seen people make a list of chores (sorted by room categories) and give them points based on how difficult they find it and roll a dice to decide which chore to do and then take that many points off a monster with a certain amount of HP. Is that intended for kids? Probably. But it looks like it works and it seems fun

Hell, cosplay as a housewife and put on some dramatic scornful music (I recommend anything written by country women about murdering their husbands or any musical theatre esque songs) to pretend you're cleaning up the scene of your husband's murder.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol.Ⅲ Mini Drama “Carla VS Shin”

Original title: 録り下ろしミニドラマ「カルラＶＳシン」

Source: Diabolik Lovers VERSUS SONG Bloody Night Vol. III Mini Drama

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Morikawa Toshiyuki & Morikubo Shoutaro

Translator’s note: The Tsukinami brothers aren’t my go-to, so I wasn’t crazy about this CD, but I’m sure that all of you T bro stans will enjoy it. It takes place in the Dark Fate timeline, so the two of them are still keen on trying to ‘cleanse’ the MC. No cute fluffy moments in this one, just a lot of blood-sucking and Carla + Shin ganging up on you. :p

You try to head out of the manor. 

*Thud* 

Carla: …You, where are you going? 

Carla approaches you as you try to explain.

Carla: For a walk, you say? Such a blatant lie. You are not allowed to leave the manor without my permission.

You ask Carla if there is a reason why he needs you here.

Carla: If I need you for anything? Is that not obvious? Your cleansing. There is nothing else I could need from you.

You try to escape. 

*Rustle rustle* 

Carla: …You sure have some nerve to try to make a run for it when I am standing right in front of you. I thought I had taught you plenty of times that there is no way for you to escape this place, but I suppose I have not made myself clear enough just yet. Very well. I shall continue to do so until it finally sinks in. Come with me.

Carla drags you away. 

*Thud* 

Carla: Why are you looking at me like that? Are you frightened? ーー Now keep still. If you move, I will kill you.

You flinch.

Carla: Heh. Perfect. 

*Rustle* 

Carla: Did you not hear me when I told you to keep still? …Do not make a sound over every single little thing.

*Rustle* 

Carla: Is it a little easier for me to sink my fangs in your neck this way? I shall give to you momentarily. 

Carla bites you. 

*Gulp gulp* 

Carla: Hah…Per usual…

*Sluuuurp* 

Carla: …Your blood is still tainted…I must cleanse it sooner rather than later, or else we could be in trouble. …Ugh. 

*Rustle* 

Carla: Oi, woman. I did not give you permission to fight back. Do you not understand what will happen to you if you do?

*Rustle* 

Carla: You should always remember how easy it is for me to snap that slender neck of yours in two. 

He continues sucking your blood. 

*Sluuuurp* 

Carla: …Hah. Hmph. So you have finally stopped resisting? You should have done so from the very beginning. Good grief, you are such a handful. 

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp gulp gulp* 

Carla: Mmh…Hah…

*Rustle* 

Carla: Stand. I did not give you permission to rest either. 

You remain on the floor.

Carla: ーー You should offer yourself to me exactly as I tell you to. I shall not take no as an answer. Hah…

*Rustle*

Carla: …Hm. 

*Thud*

Carla: Che…So she has lost consciousness? Humans are even more weak and fragile and I thought, getting knocked out over such a short cleansing session. Hah. Ridiculous. 

Carla walks away as Shin walks by shortly after, noticing you on the floor.

Shin: Huh? That is…

*TIMESKIP*

*Thud*

Shin: Che…She still won’t wake up after carrying her all the way over here, huh? God. Just how much of her blood did Nii-san drink? 

Oh well…If she refuses to wake up, there’s only way one to do so, right? …Hah!

Shin throws you into the bath tub.

*SPLASH*

*Splash splash* 

Shin: Oh? How boring. You woke up right away. ーーOr rather, no need to panic that much, I only gave you a bath.

*Splash*

Shin: Hm? This place? It’s the bathroom. Nii-san sucked your blood earlier, didn’t he? You were laying on the floor in the hallway, so I carried you here. 

You nod in understanding.

Shin: Anyway, I didn’t think I’d find myself alone with you in the bathroom a second time. But you know…the walls here are the most soundproof…and I can cover up your scent as well, so it’s the perfect place. 

You frown.

Shin: I fail to see how I’m being ‘horrible’. I’m cleaning you, so you should be thankful instead. ーー Or rather, I don’t like how your entire body smells of Nii-san right now. Hah. He even left marks on your skin…Ahー It pisses me off. Say, why don’t you strip down for a second?

You blink in surprise. 

Shin: Did you not hear me? I told you to take off your clothes, right here, right now. 

You ask him why.

Shin: Haah!? Because they’d get in the way while I’m trying to cleanse you, duh!? Che…If you refuse to take them off yourself…I’ll strip you down instead!

You try to make a run for it.

*Splash splash*

Shin: Oi! Why are you trying to get away!? …Che, you sure have some nerve to try and escape me! ーー Seems like you’re in need of a punishment, rather than a cleansing. 

He corners you.

*Thud*

*SPLASH*

Shin: Hah! You look like a hot mess! If you had just listened to me, you wouldn’t have ended up soaked wet. See!? 

*SPLASH*

Shin: Ugh…

*Splash*

Shin: So, how is it to have someone force your face down the water? Hard to breathe? Look at you coughing, poor thing.

You shiver.

Shin: …Haah? What’s the problem? You’ve been shaking like a leaf this whole time. Are you cold? I mean, I guess you’re drenched in cold water. Or are you perhaps shivering in fear?  Either way, I’m not letting you go just yet, remember that very well. 

He takes in your scent.

Shin: …I guess a little water isn’t enough to get rid of the scent. In that case, I suppose I have no other choice but to do it myself. …Say, show me…where Nii-san bit you.

You refuse. 

Shin: Don’t fight back…! Ugh…

*Splash splash* 

Shin: Che…I was going to actually have some mercy on you, but if you want to get the rough treatment that badly, your wish is my command. …Come on, get up on your feet! How long are you going to stay here crouched down!? Ughーー!

*SPLASH*

Shin: Ughー!

*RIIIIIIP*

Shin: Making me go through all this extra trouble…

Shin bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: ーー Hah! What are you screaming for? Did it really hurt that much just now? I guess it did. I’m making it painful on purpose after all. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Nnh…Nn…Che…Your blood is as disgusting as ever…On top of that, your neck is covered in Nii-san’s mark, it’s making me gag. …Tsk. I’m more than capable of cleansing you myself without having to rely on Nii-san’s help! ーー Say, turn your back my way. I’ll suck from there next. 

You turn around.

Shin: Heh. Seems like Nii-san didn’t get to this place, as expected. I couldn’t have asked for more. 

Shin bites your back. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Nn…Mmh…For the millionth time…Stop making a fuss. I need to make some progress here before Nii-san catches oーー

Carla approaches them.

Carla: You are making quite the fuss, Shin. 

Shin: …! Nii-san…!

Carla: What are you doing over there? 

Shin: Haha~ What do you mean? I’m cleansing her. I figured I’d lend you a hand.

Carla: Hooh. And you needed to put her in the bath for that?

Shin: Yeah. I figured that the water would help rinse off all dirt and speed up the cleansing procedure. 

Carla: Speed up the cleansing, you say? Heh. Sounds exactly like an excuse you would come up with. That being said, you appear to be quite flustered? 

Shin: …Good grief. Like you’re in any position to talk. You’re asking me all these questions, even though you’ve already got me figured out. It’s true that I want to aid in her cleansing…but you’re the last person I want to leave in charge of it.

Carla: Heh. Seems like you are no longer hiding your true intentions either. Cleansing her is my duty as the King of Founders. However…I suppose it is fine. I shall give you special permission to cleanse her alongside me tonight.

Shin: Hah. ‘Permission’, huh? Oh well, I guess I can roll with that for now. I understand, Nii-san. As you wish.

Carla: Hmph. 

Shin: You should rejoice. Nii-san and I will cleanse you together today. ーー Ah, don’t go fainting on us halfway through, okay? That’d be awfully dull. 

You frown.

Shin: Oh, also, don’t be having reckless thoughts about running away either. So, Nii-san, what should I do? 

Carla: Keep her restrained. 

Shin: Eeh? So I have to get inside the tub as well? 

Carla: Do you have an issue with that? 

Shin: Nah, not really. Yeah, yeah, just gotta get in, right? …There we go. 

*Splash* 

Shin: Ahー! Cold! …I get why you are shivering now. …Haha!

He approaches you. 

Shin: Gotcha. …Better behave, okay? …Nii-san, this should do, right? 

Carla: Yes. That will work just fine. ーー Oi, woman. Look over here. 

*Rustle*

Heh. You look rather pathetic right now. Now then, surrender your body to me. We are continuing your cleansing. I sunk my fangs into your neck earlier, did I not? In that case…Let me move a bit lower this time. 

*Rustle* 

Carla: Your heart is beating rather quickly. Almost as if it is begging for my fangs.

*Splash splash* 

Carla: Very well. I shall bite you over here. 

Carla bites you. 

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp* 

Carla: Hah…

*Splash* 

Shin: ーー Woah there. Keep still. …Or rather, it’s up to you whether you want to move or not, but who knows what will happen if you make a bad move and Nii-san’s fangs stab you in the heart? 

Your face goes pale.

Shin: Ah…That’s not a bad expression you’re making right now. I can’t get enough of seeing your face twist in fear.

Carla: Nn…Hah…Oi, Shin. If you have the time to spout nonsense, at least make sure you are keeping her properly restrained. 

Shin: Yeah, yeah, I know.

Carla continues to suck your blood. 

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp gulp*

Shin: Hehe. I mean, watching your face scrunch up in pain isn’t bad, but boredom’s starting to kick in.

Shin bites you as well. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Nn…

Carla: Mm…Oi, Shin, what are you doing? I believe I told you to keep her pinned down? 

Shin: …Nnh, yeah, I know. I’m doing that, aren’t I? …But you know, I’m pretty sure that if both of us suck her blood, it’ll speed up the cleansing, so let me join in on the fun. Nn…

*Sluuuurp*

Carla: …Do as you please. However, do not make her faint. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: …Hah. Of course, I know that, Nii-san. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: Ah…Hah…

Carla: Hmph. ーー Oi, woman. Look at me. Hahn…

*Sluuuurp*

Carla: Hah…Who is the one bestowing pain upon you right now? 

You answer. 

Carla: Exactly. So do not dare react to anyone else’s fangs. 

Shin: Excuse me, Nii-san? You don’t have to go that far, do you? I’m right here as well, remember? 

You whimper.

Shin: What are you moaning for? Are you feeling good from both of us biting you?

You shake your head. 

Shin: You don’t sound very convincing while making an expression like that. I can’t believe you’re getting off from the pain…You might actually be insane. Hahaha!

Carla: Shin. Enough nonsense. Focus on the cleansing. 

Shin: Mmh. You’re right. Well then…Where to bite you next? Hah? This arm over here seems ideal. 

*Rustle* 

Shin: Ah, godー Why are wet clothes so difficult to take off? What a pain! 

*RIIIIP*

Shin: Aah, my bad! I accidentally clawed at it, tearing it apart. Although now it’s much easier to bite you.

*Sluuuurp*

Carla: I doubt switching up the place will alter the taste in any way. It will taste just as foul as always. 

*Sluuuurp*

Shin: …Hah. You’re right. 

*Splash* 

Shin: Hey, you. Why are you trying to take a break? 

Carla: Woman. Your cleansing has not ended yet. It is too early to rest.

Shin: Ahーah, it’s no use. She has fainted again. How many times has this happened today?

Carla: I suppose she did not last after all. Although that was to be expected

Shin: However, who knows when we’ll be done at this rate.

Carla: I do not mind. We simply have to keep on going until she is fully cleansed. 

Shin: Heh. I suppose you are right. 

Carla: Shin. Carry her to her bedroom. We will continue afterwards. 

Shin: Gotcha, Nii-san. 

*Splash splash*

Carla: Better brace yourself…for when you wake up again. 

Shin: Try to at least enjoy your dreams while they last. Hehe…Hahaha…Ahahaha!

ーー THE END ーー

[finfics]

Two’s Company But Three Completes (Kanato Sakamaki x Reader x Yui Komori) [Diabolik Lovers]

Chapter 3: Anthurium

Symbolism: Hospitality, happiness, abundance

Tagging: @mocha-focha (if you don’t want to be tagged in these anymore just let me know <3)

You don’t even realize you’ve been syncing your breaths with the clock until the almost numbing sting from the ice pack snaps you out of your thoughts. 

The nurse shushed you, slapping another half assed bandaid on you before sighing in frustration and leaving the office with a promise to come back with a teacher.

Ayato had left earlier with a nonchalant wave of his hand once he realized you would probably be fine. Not that you minded too much. It’s not like he was your friend, after all.

“What time is it?” You mumbled to yourself, glancing at the clock. It was already in the afternoon. How did you get so disoriented? Did Atsuko find out about the fight yet? Would she even come and check on you or would she be too upset? How would your parents even handle this?

The sound of the door sliding open has you raising your head, a small pathetic part of you hoping Astuko took the time off her practice.

Instead you’re greeted with jarringly pink eyes and blonde hair. Yui Komori gave a small smile as she closed the door behind her, quietly stepping towards you as if you were a frightened animal.

To be honest, at this point, you were. “Komori! You’re not with your boyfriend?”

She shook her head. “I… heard what happened and I wanted to check on you.” Her eyes lowered, grimacing at your mess of bandaids. “Can I help you?”

This girl really was the prime example of hell being paved with good intentions. You sighed. “Ayato dropped my bag on the table, first aid kit should still be in there.”

She smiled, gently grabbing your arm and peeling off the already soaked bandaids. She grabbed the alcohol and a cotton ball from the bag, preparing to clean the wounds.

“Not gonna lie, it kinda hurt that you forgot my name last time we met,” you laughed, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth as she poured the alcohol.

Yui flustered. “I’m not very good at names. You were seated next to me last year, right?”

“I was the one sneaking you snacks, yeah.”

She giggled as memories came back. “I think you made some of the teachers quit.”

“If my student snuck in enough food for the whole school, I would’ve too.” 

Yui grabbed the roll of bandages, wrapping it around your arm. “You also taught me how to braid my hair.”

“Don’t treasure that lesson, I only learned it because my parents were too lazy to teach me.”

“It was still nice to have you braid it. I’ve never had anyone do that for me back in the church.” Yui smiled, almost remorsefully. “I miss that.”

”Well, Kanato kinda threatened the whole class the second he found out,” You grimaced. “Big mouthed classmates versus bigger eared man-child.”

She laughed; a genuinely happy one. You hadn’t heard that in a long time. It made your heart swell. It kinda sucked to have to damper the mood.

“On the topic of Kanato,” you said. “Is there a reason he thinks I hurt you?”

Her hand immediately went to her neck, making you raise an eyebrow. “He just assumed I was bleeding because of you, that’s all. He’s overprotective like that.”

“I see. What hurt you then?”

Yui flinched, and she waved a hand in front of her face, forcing a laugh. “No one did! Just a raccoon that got into the classroom and I got unlucky!” 

“It was your dog last time I asked,” you deadpanned.

“They’re both canines, so same thing, right?” Her face was pale, sweat beading at her forehead as her lies fell apart at the seams.

But what was the truth? What was biting her? Why was she hiding it? Surely it wasn’t…

”Yui, does Kanato—?”

The door slams open, revealing a less than joyful Atsuko.

“Atsuko, you actually came—“

“You’re kidding me,” she snapped. “A fight?”

Yui stood up, approaching the volleyball player. “It wasn’t that bad, Kanato was just a bit angry—“

”Shut up, Komori,” Atsuko cut her off too, turning towards you with a huff. “I don’t need to hear it from you.”

“Look, don’t be a dick,” you groaned. “Like Yui said, it was Kanato starting a fight.”

”Everyone knows it was Kanato,” Atsuko pinched the bridge of her nose. “The real question is why can’t you stop starting shit with people? I can’t keep leaving practice for this.”

”Atsuko, I’m sorry—“ 

As soon as she was in front of you, she grabbed your arm, pulling you to your feet. ”Let’s just go home, my mom’s already here.”

You looked over your shoulder, and threw Yui a smile, ignoring a judging glance from Atsuko. “Talk to you again sometime, yeah?”

She grinned in return, and gave a wave.

Her arm was still scarred. That bothered you.

[hufflepuff-proudbadger]

Relaxing Bath

Jurdan Fanfic ao3 link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/40827993?view_adult=true

I strike again causing Ghost to stumble a little on his feet, that didn't quite affect him as he gain his position and swung his sword against mine. I wipe some blood that flows down my cheek from the attack that I couldn't dodge before.

I do as Madoc always taught me, 'Never leave your eyes off the target'.

"You should get tougher when you attack" - Ghost says as we are circling each other waiting for a good opportunity to land a good hit.

"If I get tougher you would be already on the floor squirming like a worm" - moving my legs faster I approach him and slung my sword at him with a firm grip, he wasn't expecting that and he horizontally positioned his sword blocking mine and with a kick, he tries to unbalance me. I fall to the ground but my arm pushes my body making me dodge when he pushes the sword tip to the ground, it ends up getting stuck in the grass which gives me time to get up.

As he regains stance and comes at me again, we spare some more until we finish when both of us swing our swords and they block each other declaring draw.

"You're getting better Jude" - Ghost sheaths his sword and tries to speak breathlessly.

"I thought I was already good... At least better than you" - I said between tiredness and wiping the sweat off my test with my shirt sleeve making him smile.

"Almost as good as me" - He puts a hand on my shoulder friendly - "Now you should go inside to the king he must miss you... or at least try to relax"

"I can't go inside and I surely can't go back inside and hear Cardan's whimpers and his foolish ideas to plan some kind of revel... - I sheath my sword and put my hands on my hips as the Ghost disappears to his spy position - "Maybe I should go to my quarters and wear something else clean."

I went inside and start walking to my room, when I opened the door I start to take off my sword hanging on my waist belt and strip my clothes when a knock on my door was heard over the room.

'Please let it not be Cardan'

I buttoned my shirt again and walk to the door when I open I see Tatterfell.

"I came to tide a little up your room, since the last time I was here doing your hair I see that didn't change much" - she came in with a stern face looking at my room disapprovingly.

"Well, I wish you could run a bath for me instead" - I look at her and she nods.

"At your service my lady." - she goes to my bathroom and starts doing what it's necessary to obtain a relaxing bath. - "You've been training too much lately, a lady like you shouldn't mind such business, what would say your lady mother"

Tatterfell always talked like this since I and Taryn were kids, she looked at my sister and was happy to see the lady of the court she became, couldn't say the same about me, to her eyes I was a rebel, not like Vivi at least, but I wasn't made to the court life to the revels or the luxury of them, I didn't behave acceptably.

Oriana would rip out her eyes every time I didn't look like a lady, but Madoc would satisfyingly look at me and smiled almost proudly.

"Your bath is ready my lady" - Tatterfell comes out of the bathroom holding a robe for me to take.

I want to thank her but know she would kill me if I did, I made that mistake once, and this cover why I shouldn't make it again.

As I'm finally alone I go to the bathroom and how relaxed once I step inside, the steaming from the hot water mixed with the smell of the bath salts was inebriating, and see all that bubble's mess. I quickly get rid of my clothes and put a foot on the enormous bathtub I slide in and sigh reliving the tension on my body as the water came up to my shoulders and I'm deep in that intoxicating moment.

I resume my bath by playing occasionally with the bubbles while thinking about the matters of Elfhame, and what Cardan must be thinking.

'I hope that he doesn't think of planning another revel as like the other night'

His relationship with Locke, his master of revels, has grown into a problem in my plans, he's more difficult to control, and his immoral behaviour it's growing at such speed that I fear I can't control it.

I look at the little table beside the tub where it lays some face towels, a cup of tea, my silver hairbrush and some balms that while opened I can smell the herbs of each other. Next to them, it's one of my daggers.

I duck more into the pleasant water and let my arms rest on the sides of the tub putting my head to rest on the edge.

I hear a knock on my bedroom door, for the time it must be Tattrefell again or some servant, I tell them to enter.

'Cardan must still be in his quarters resting from the long party and the fun he's had, not to mention the amount of alcohol he's ingested, I don't think I've seen him for at least two days' I smile non-stop at my thoughts, and while hearing lightly boots steps, almost like a spy, I caught my dagger with a firm grip, as the steps approach.

Looking at the door I see that stupid grin and that high cheeks bones with golden painting smudge all over, the dark hair that hasn't seen a brush and the high king crown resting on his head.

'Cardan, of all people in the palace'

"Even in the bath Jude, your enemy must be very cautious" - he stays still on the door.

"He surely must be, because you never know who to trust, even someone who interrupts someone's bath should be considered as such. Don't you think" - my dagger dances on my hand swinging from one hand to the other.

"Well good morning to you too, my dear seneschal" - he advances to me with his hands behind his back - "It's good to see that during your sleep you didn't change a bit, for my displeasure"

"Why you're here?" - I look at him menacingly, demanding an explanation for him not yet disappear from my sight.

"You see I needed to let you know that I have made an appointment for tomorrow with Severin of Fairfold, so he's coming tomorrow to pay us a visit" - I look at him puzzled. - "And as my seneschal, I'll give you the preparations in your shocking vile hands, my sweet villain."

"This means another revel, because if it's that I'm out" - the king is now beside me, looking down while I duck more in the water. I'm not giving him de privilege to see me in this vulnerable position.

"Then consider it more like a tea party at night, with non-stoping dance and wine instead of tea" - he smirks at me - "If that helps change your opinion"

"Cardan you can't plan this type of thing without my consent, don't forget that I gave your position you're a mere puppet in my hands."

"Oh yes, I almost forget that's why I'm here to obtain your consent" - now he's angry - "Your similarities to a queen are impossible to deny Jude why aren't you sit on the throne then" - he let out a laugh.

"Shut up, I'm the one who commands here" - I start preparing to leave the so good hot water - "Turn around" - he pauses - "NOW".

He keeps chuckling with his back to me and I sleep into a robe and compose myself, I let him stay in the bathroom walking to my room while drying my hair, and he follows me like a puppy.

"You're so unnerving with that spoiled child behaviour." - I turn to him and stay face to face - "But as your majesty instructs I'm going to prepare everything for the arrival of your guests" - I put the towel on the desk and start brushing the hair.

'Why do I have a silver brush, it's so heavy.'

"That's all your majesty" - I look deeply into his eyes, challenging him.

"For now yes my unmerciful seneschal" - he looks at me and I can feel some tentative glamour, but that would be impossible - "What happened here" - his cold fingers touch my cheeks if I was right almost in a lovable way, that is sufficient for me to stop brushing my hair and refusing to break eye contact.

"Sparring with Ghost"

"You ought to be more careful... you have such a stupidly beautiful and delicate face." - he stops himself - "It doesn't suit you".

He's dangerously close, I need to put an end to this.

"Now off you go before I give you a bruise too or something worst" - I push him away.

He starts walking to the door backwards analyzing all my movements, his lesson is well studied you never turn your back on your enemy, but he keeps that arrogant smile even after what happened here - "Aren't you forgetting to tell me something?"

I cock my head to the side and furrow my brows.

"To give you the pleasure and allure you with my resplendent company my lady, or must I say, my darling knight" - he's almost out of the door when I throw the silver hairbrush at him with such a force I swear the door shook a little.

"Get out of my sight" - winking he throws me a kiss and leaves finally.

I sighed of tiredness moving to the closed door and picking up the hairbrush - "That was handy."

[lizzieblabbers]

octobery bery long ????

so remember the vacation entry i promised to post?? well... in my defense, tho, life came in the way and i had to prioritize urgent big girl stuff so i really had no time to sit down in front of my laptop and recall all my province memories

but it's sitting sa drafts na, will not set a date anymore, it'll just... be up

so anyway

october was so long wtf hHASDHADHA

tODAY'S THE TENTH AND I FINALLY FOUND THE WORDS EHEHEHEH (see cleaning is the key)

so, october, to put it simply, is challenging yet rewarding. (big words from a big girl lyke me 8D *winks*

as i've mentioned in my previous post, i hadn't really had much time to kool down from the province high because i needed to be the adult that i am as soon as i arrived. it did not help that the professors had already started discussions and of course with those are activities with deadlines that were sooner than i had expected.

now, i really meant it when i said that october was sooooooo looong. or was it because i had too much on my plate that i barely had the time to rest and let time pass by? either way, it was the longest month i had this year because a lot was going on.

first week of october, i had to go somewhere, ALONE, without any idea of what am i gonna do there.

OKAY I HAVE TO STOP HERE its ten pm and i am fucking sleepy (yeah it be like that sometimes) im gonna continue this tomorrow

hi today's the day after tomorrow and wtf am i doing with my life

i have decided not to pursue the vacation post because i felt like i have already said enough about it in my previous entries (albeit trying to tone it down for, well, the said separate entry) and i think it would just be redundant??? idk, im messed up like that

ANYWAY OCTOBER

so much has happened this past month that i can't really keep track of everything. october taught me a lot of lessons which i guess i can generally apply to all aspects of my life.

for one, it taught me that life isn't and will never be black and white. there are tons of gray areas existing that we should maybe look at and examine its relevance and how it affects each of us. not saying we should always justify everything, but you know... it wouldn't hurt to have another approach to life

anyhoo why am i getting all wisdom-y word-y here, im not that smart

my october mainly revolved on school and adulting responsibilities, alongside some realizations. as for school, it took me a while to adjust to the new academic year because there has been a lot of necessary changes for a less-stressful semester but all in all i'm fine now and already on the process of hooking myself back up to how i was before the vacay.

as for adulting responsibilities, well... october 2023 is when i first received a salary for doing something!!! yay :D immediately put it in a savings account and stopped myself from buying unnecessary stuff because i really want to practice this until i already have a job (FUCK THIS ADULT THING IS GETTING REALER ANY MINUTE) and as much as possible, save save save because i know im gonna need a lot if i want to sleep peacefully at night

guess that's the highlight of my month? won't dwell too much on the negative shits because (1) i can't really remember them aotm, and (2) i don't want to remember them anymore

in case of a relapse, however, i would definitely head straight here and let out everything i think about

THAT'S IT FOR OCTOBER, THANK YEW

bubhyYEE

[writingwithcolor]

What Does Our "Motivations” PSA Mean?

@luminalalumini said:

I've been on your blog a lot and it has a lot of really insightful information, but I notice a theme with some of your answers where you ask the writer reaching out what their 'motivation for making a character a certain [race/religion/ethnicity/nationality] is' and it's discouraging to see, because it seems like you're automatically assigning the writer some sort of ulterior motive that must be sniffed out and identified before the writer can get any tips or guidance for their question. Can't the 'motive' simply be having/wanting to have diversity in one's work? Must there be an 'ulterior motive'? I can understand that there's a lot of stigma and stereotypes and bad influence that might lead to someone trynna add marginalized groups into their stories for wrong reasons, but people that have those bad intentions certainly won't be asking for advice on how to write good representation in the first place. Idk its just been something that seemed really discouraging to me to reach out myself, knowing i'll automatically be assigned ulterior motives that i don't have and will probably have to justify why i want to add diversity to my story as if i'm comitting some sort of crime. I don't expect you guys to change your blog or respond to this or even care all that much, I'm probably just ranting into a void. I'm just curious if theres any reason to this that I haven't realized exists I suppose. I don't want y'all to take this the wrong way because I do actually love and enjoy your blog's advice in spite of my dumb griping. Cheers :))

We assume this is in reference to the following PSA:

PSA to all of our users - Motivation Matters: This lack of clarity w/r to intent has been a general issue with many recent questions. Please remember that if you don’t explain your motivations and what you intend to communicate to your audience with your plot choices, character attributes, world-building etc., we cannot effectively advise you beyond the information you provide. We Are Not Mind Readers. If, when drafting these questions, you realize you can’t explain your motivations, that is likely a hint that you need to think more on the rationales for your narrative decisions. My recommendation is to read our archives and articles on similar topics for inspiration while you think. I will be attaching this PSA to all asks with similar issues until the volume of such questions declines. 

We have answered this in three parts.

1. Of Paved Roads and Good Intentions

Allow me to give you a personal story, in solidarity towards your feelings:

When I began writing in South Asia as an outsider, specifically in the Kashmir and Lahore areas, I was doing it out of respect for the cultures I had grown up around. I did kathak dance, I grew up on immigrant-cooked North Indian food, my babysitters were Indian. I loved Mughal society, and every detail of learning about it just made me want more. The minute you told me fantasy could be outside of Europe, I hopped into the Mughal world with two feet. I was 13. I am now 28.

And had you asked me, as a teenager, what my motives were in giving my characters’ love interests blue or green eyes, one of them blond hair, my MC having red-tinted brown hair that was very emphasized, and a whole bunch of paler skinned people, I would have told you my motives were “to represent the diversity of the region.” 

I’m sure readers of the blog will spot the really, really toxic and colourist tropes present in my choices. If you’re new here, then the summary is: giving brown people “unique” coloured eyes and hair that lines up with Eurocentric beauty standards is an orientalist trope that needs to be interrogated in your writing. And favouring pale skinned people is colourist, full stop.

Did that make me a bad person with super sneaky ulterior motives who wanted to write bad representation? No.

It made me an ignorant kid from the mostly-white suburbs who grew up with media that said brown people had to “look unique” (read: look as European as possible) to be considered valuable.

And this is where it is important to remember that motives can be pure as you want, but you were still taught all of the terrible stuff that is present in society. Which means you’re going to perpetuate it unless you stop and actually question what is under your conscious motive, and work to unlearn it. Work that will never be complete.

I know it sounds scary and judgemental (and it’s one of the reasons we allow people to ask to be anonymous, for people who are afraid). Honestly, I would’ve reacted much the same as a younger writer, had you told me I was perpetuating bad things. I was trying to do good and my motives were pure, after all! But after a few years, I realized that I had fallen short, and I had a lot more to learn in order for my motives to match my impact. Part of our job at WWC is to attempt to close that gap.

We aren’t giving judgement, when we ask questions about why you want to do certain things. We are asking you to look at the structural underpinnings of your mind and question why those traits felt natural together, and, more specifically, why those traits felt natural to give to a protagonist or other major character.

I still have blond, blue-eyed characters with sandy coloured skin. I still have green-eyed characters. Because teenage me was right, that is part of the region. But by interrogating my motive, I was able to devalue those traits within the narrative, and I stopped making those traits shorthand for “this is the person you should root for.” 

It opened up room for me to be messier with my characters of colour, even the ones who my teenage self would have deemed “extra special.” Because the European-associated traits (pale hair, not-brown-eyes) stopped being special. After years of questioning, they started lining up with my motive of just being part of the diversity of the region.

Motive is important, both in the conscious and the subconscious. It’s not a judgement and it’s not assumed to be evil. It’s simply assumed to be unquestioned, so we ask that you question it and really examine your own biases.

~Mod Lesya

2. Motivations Aren't Always "Ulterior"

You can have a positive motivation or a neutral one or a negative one. Just wanting to have diversity only means your characters aren't all white and straight and cis and able-bodied -- it doesn't explain why you decided to make this specific character specifically bi and specifically Jewish (it me). Yes, sometimes it might be completely random! But it also might be "well, my crush is Costa Rican, so I gave the love interest the same background", or "I set it in X City where the predominant marginalized ethnicity is Y, so they are Y". Neither of these count as ulterior motives. But let's say for a second that you did accidentally catch yourself doing an "ulterior." Isn't that the point of the blog, to help you find those spots and clean them up?

Try thinking of it as “finding things that need adjusting” rather than “things that are bad” and it might get less scary to realize that we all do them, subconsciously. Representation that could use some work is often the product of subconscious bias, not deliberate misrepresentation, so there's every possibility that someone who wants to improve and do better didn't do it perfectly the first time. 

--Shira

3. Dress-Making as a Metaphor

I want to echo Lesya’s sentiments here but also provide a more logistical perspective. If you check the rubber stamp guide here and the “Motivation matters” PSA above, you’ll notice that concerns with respect to asker motivation are for the purposes of providing the most relevant answer possible.

It is a lot like if someone walks into a dressmaker’s shop and asks for a blue dress/ suit (Back when getting custom-made clothes was more of a thing) . The seamstress/ tailor is likely to ask a wide variety of questions:

What material do you want the outfit to be made of?

Where do you plan to wear it?

What do you want to highlight?

How do you want to feel when you wear it?

Let’s say our theoretical customer is in England during the 1920s. A tartan walking dress/ flannel suit for the winter is not the same as a periwinkle, beaded, organza ensemble/ navy pinstripe for formal dress in the summer. When we ask for motivations, we are often asking for exactly that: the specific reasons for your inquiry so we may pinpoint the most pertinent information.

The consistent problem for many of the askers who receive the PSA is they haven’t even done the level of research necessary to know what they want to ask of us. It would be like if our English customer in the 1920s responded, “IDK, some kind of blue thing.” Even worse,  WWC doesn’t have the luxury of the back-and-forth between a dressmaker and their clientele. If our asker doesn’t communicate all the information they need in mind at the time of submission, we can only say, “Well, I’m not sure if this is right, but here’s something. I hope it works, but if you had told us more, we could have done a more thorough job.”

Answering questions without context is hard, and asking for motivations, by which I mean the narratives, themes, character arcs and other literary devices that you are looking to incorporate, is the best way for us to help you, while also helping you to determine if your understanding of the problem will benefit from outside input. Because these asks are published with the goal of helping individuals with similar questions, the PSA also serves to prompt other users.

I note that asking questions is a skill, and we all start by asking the most basic questions (Not stupid questions, because to quote a dear professor, “There are no stupid questions.”). Unfortunately, WWC is not suited for the most basic questions. To this effect, we have a very helpful FAQ and archive as a starting point. Once you have used our website to answer the more basic questions, you are more ready to approach writing with diversity and decide when we can actually be of service. This is why we are so adamant that people read the FAQ. Yes, it helps us, but it also is there to save you time and spare you the ambiguity of not even knowing where to start.

The anxiety in your ask conveys to me a fear of being judged for asking questions. That fear is not something we can help you with, other than to wholeheartedly reassure you that we do not spend our unpaid, free time answering these questions in order to assume motives we can’t confirm or sit in judgment of our users who, as you say, are just trying to do better.

Yes, I am often frustrated when an asker’s question makes it clear they haven’t read the FAQ or archives. I’ve also been upset when uncivil commenters have indicated that my efforts and contributions are not worth their consideration. However, even the most tactless question has never made me think, “Ooh this person is such a naughty racist. Let me laugh at them for being a naughty racist. Let me shame them for being a naughty racist. Mwahaha.”

What kind of sad person has time for that?*

Racism is structural. It takes time to unlearn, especially if you’re in an environment that doesn’t facilitate that process to begin with. Our first priority is to help while also preserving our own boundaries and well-being. Though I am well aware of the levels of toxic gas-lighting and virtue signaling that can be found in various corners of online writing communities in the name of “progressivism*”, WWC is not that kind of space. This space is for discussions held in good faith: for us to understand each other better, rather than for one of us to “win” and another to “lose.”

Just as we have good faith that you are doing your best, we ask that you have faith that we are trying to do our best by you and the BIPOC communities we represent.

- Marika.

*If you are in any writing or social media circles that feed these anxieties or demonstrate these behaviors, I advise you to curtail your time with them and focus on your own growth. You will find, over time, that it is easier to think clearly when you are worrying less about trying to appease people who set the bar of approval so high just for the enjoyment of watching you jump. “Internet hygiene”, as I like to call it, begins with you and the boundaries you set with those you interact with online.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | m

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 3, 451

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

“You’re so pretty like this,” Jungkook whispers against your cheek but it’s nothing like sweet nothings that would comfort you.

No. It’s dirty, it’s relentless when he hooks his fingers upwards against your spongey walls while his other hand clamps on your mouth to keep your gasps at bay. There’s nothing that you can do when he has your pleasure quite literally in the palm of his hands.

“Mmph.” You groan, hips bucking upwards despite your mind telling you that this was wrong, that you weren’t like this.

But Jungkook had a way of clouding your conscience and leading you to unmapped territories when he looks at you with his doe-eyes that looked nothing like innocence but more like trouble.

Jungkook’s absolutely brutal when he finger fucks your pussy until it's squelching within the bathroom walls, nearly overpowering the music from outside. You’re pathetically whining and moaning under him, back stained with sweat while he presses you against the sink. When he looks at you, it’s almost worth it.

Almost.

“This fucking pussy gets wet only for me, yeah?” He growls, eyes barring anomalistically when he releases his other hand from your mouth to grip your chin to look at him.

You can’t control the moan that you let out when he drags his fingertips across the spongey surface of your cunt, your hole fluttering around his long digits that hypnotised you every single time.

“J-Jungkook—” You gasp when he presses his thumb against your clit, your wetness lubricating the movement until your legs shudder around his hips while his eyes zero onto your pussy.

The way he revs up his spit at the back of his throat should’ve been disgusting and you should’ve run for the hills, but Jungkook had a way of making everything you were taught to avoid look appetising because a dollop of his slaver drops directly onto your clit and you feel your stomach clench.

“Fuck. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?” He hisses, “Acting so prim and proper on the outside but you just wanna get fucked like a dirty little secret, huh?”

You shake your head when he pounds harder into you that your body is hiking up the sink with the force he’s exerting into shoving his fingers into your pussy. Tears of ecstasy or shame—you don’t know—but they’re accumulating at the edge of your eyes and threatening release, just like your orgasm that’s impending.

“You’re a liar.” He spits at you and it’s not as malicious as it should be because he’s smirking, a grin so menacing but addictive that you can’t help your dazed eyes that fall onto his face.

Your hand is gripping his shoulder while the other holds onto the sink because your pussy is spasming around his fingers and your wetness is everywhere. It’s on his jeans, fingers, and the remnants of your juice taint his lips—and you feel your stomach clench harder while your mind grows fuzzier.

“N-Not lying.” You whimper.

Jungkook scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, “You’re a liar. You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? What’s everyone going to think if they see you fucked out with just my fingers?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he leans down in one sudden motion that you can’t even catch up with and envelopes your throbbing bud into his mouth and sucks. Sucks so hard that you scream and you’re sure the partygoers know exactly what’s going on in the bathroom.

“Jungkook!” You scream, clutching his hair.

He chuckles darkly against your pussy but doesn’t relent his actions. The dark locks between your thighs make everything much harder to focus on, but all you can feel and see in Jungkook.

“N-No—I c-can’t—fuck!—” You’re not pushing him away but your hips are unconsciously grinding against his mouth when he finger fucks your pussy all while giving you the beautiful stimulation from his hot mouth.

“You’re going to cum for me and drench my face, yeah?” He mumbles into your pussy but it’s nothing short of demanding, “Gonna eat your fucking pussy clean.”

You’re so close, so so close and Jungkook feels it. He’s generous today, hooking his fingers deeper, and harder until—

“Fuck!” You scream.

Jungkook smirks against your pussy, knowing he’s found it. And Jungkook is someone who doesn’t stop when he knows he’s doing well, he just goes harder. That’s exactly what he does that pushes you over the edge.

He hooks his fingers until you’re nearly lifted off the sink, but his hand presses against your stomach to keep you still, prolonging the intense feeling of pleasure mixed with pain.

“J-Jungkook—f-fuck, I—can’t—p-please—I’m c-cumming—” You’re a blubbering mess and you’re outwardly crying, and Jungkook loves the tears that stream down your face as a result of his hard work on your pussy.

“Cum for me pretty.” He rubs your clit vigorously as he pulls away just to see you unravel.

And you do, so intensely and captivatingly that Jungkook nearly cums himself on the spot. But you were a sight to behold when your face contorts in pleasure, pussy clenching uncontrollably while you spurt the evidence of your orgasm all over the sink and onto Jungkook’s clothes.

Your orgasm is all too long and too short, but it’s good. It sends you away to a spiral of acute gratification that doesn’t disappoint. You barely make out Jungkook’s darkened but pleased expression when your body shudders from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

When you come down, and you blink your eyes to come back to the world—the first thing you see is Jungkook’s stained shirt like he spilled water on it but it was just the proof of your arousal and his effort.

Jungkook tugs you close to make sure you see the way he sticks his three fingers into his mouth, smirking at your wide eyes.

“Good girls taste the best.” He hums.

You blush despite the fact he’s seen the worst and best parts of you, hiding away from his keen gaze when he leans down to chase your lips.

“The p-party.” You mumble.

Jungkook scoffs with a wicked grin on his face, “Bet everyone heard how loud you get for me.”

You grimace at the thought of walking out there, where your friends and peers are after the session Jungkook put you through with the redness on your cheeks that could only allude to one thing.

And what you did with Jungkook comes crashing down onto you all at once, even if your stomach still flutters at the pleasure he’s given you. You weren’t like this. You didn’t follow men into bathrooms and let them stick their fingers into your pussy just so you could chase your high. You didn’t let men like Jungkook touch you the way he did when he squeezed your cheeks to look at him.

You broke all of the rules you made for yourself, compartmentalised in your brain—and you can only blame—

“Jungkook.” You say softly, eyes looking up to him and you’re sure he sees your dried tears, “This has to stop.”

For the second time of the night, Jungkook looks like he doesn’t believe you. And that’s probably because you don’t even believe yourself.

Jungkook smirks, “You say that every time it’s over but you’re the one looking for me when I’m gone.”

“I don’t look for you.” You frown.

He scoffs.

“You don’t? Then why would the esteemed _____ who sets the fucking curve all the damn time turn up at a house party where she doesn’t belong?”

You purse your lips and look away. You both knew that parties were not your thing and definitely not one where a bunch of drunk college students was involved.

“You know the only reason I’m here tonight is because of Jimin and Tae.” You snap.

He rolls his eyes before caging you into the sink, and you realise that your skirt is still lifted up—wetness sticking your thighs together in an uncomfortable way that makes you wince.

“And where are they now?” He sneers, looking at you in a mocking manner.

You clench your fists by your side and try to look brave in front of Jungkook. There was no reason why he had this effect on you when you were older than him when he used to worship the ground you walked on when you were children. Now that the tables were turned you had no clue how to navigate it.

“They’re—they’re …” You appeal helplessly, “Does it matter?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek in a way that you noted came from a childhood habit turned attractive, and you hate yourself even more for feeling your heart flutter.

“That’s what I thought.” Jungkook snorts.

He pushes himself off the sink and away from you, and you unconsciously find yourself chasing him. Jungkook notices this but chooses to just smirk at you. You try to glare at him and convince both of you that you didn’t want him, that you wouldn’t come back.

But when Jungkook cups your jaw with his right hand and brings his lips to yours before he leaves, you know that choice was never yours, to begin with.

Sana approaches you out of the blue after one of your lectures and you know something is up when her eyebrows are raised.

“Hey, ____!”

You turn around, nearly slamming into her when she steadies herself, eyes inquisitive with a knowing smile that you don’t like.

Sana was one of those people in college that you were friends with purely for convenience. She was in a few of your lectures and somehow always ended up in your group during projects; so it was strategic for you to maintain an amicable relationship with her.

You thought you could see yourself being good friends with her, but she was far too extroverted and involved in campus affairs. Not that was a bad thing—but it was bad for your social ineptness and lack of engagement in social settings. And the fact that wherever she went, gossip seemed to follow.

“Sana.” You greet with a small smile.

She nudges your shoulders before the two of you fall into similar steps as you make your way out of the lecture hall.

“How have you been?” You know it’s small talk and that she’s easing you in, which only settles the anxiety further at the pit of your stomach.

“I’ve been busy.” You shrug, “Mid-terms are around the corner.”

She snorts, “By corner you mean two months down the road and you’re just being an overachiever?”

You blush at being called out and you know she meant no ill-intent. She laughs at your reaction while you offer her a sheepish smile in return.

“It’s always good to be prepared.”

She nods her head as the two of you approach the outdoor student lounge where a few other college kids were either dozing off or typing away on their laptops for last-minute assignments.

“So I heard …” Sana trails off and you sigh knowingly, already somewhat prepared.

“You heard …?” You parrot.

“You and Jeon are close, right?”

You stop in your tracks when you hear his name, as you feel her stop right behind you while you tuck your laptop to your chest.

“J-Jeon?”

Sana nods when you turn around to face her. You hope she isn’t as observant as you think she is because your face is undoubtedly red right now.

“Yeah. Jungkook.” She reaffirms.

“We’re … we grew up together.” You tell her, “With Jimin and Taehyung.”

You made sure to include your other two friends because you didn’t like where the conversation was going, and you needed to ensure there was some form of distance established between you and Jungkook, not wanting to further entangle yourself with him than you already are.

She raises an eyebrow, “So you’re close?”

You shrug your shoulders.

“I guess you could say that. We went to the same high school so it was natural for our paths to cross.”

Sana nods her head slowly as if processing the information.

“Why—”

“But you’re older than him, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

You blink at her, then you nod. Redness on your cheeks already appearing.

“Yeah. B-But … I mean by only two years. It’s not like that’s a lot.” You say defensively.

You weren’t sure why you felt the need to clarify that because there was no reason why Sana needed to know that you were just two years older than Jungkook. It was the type of information that was unnecessary and redundant given that she clearly pointed out the fact you were older.

Sana hums before looking at you with knowing eyes, but you try to pretend like you don’t see it.

“And you’ve never fooled around before?”

Her question makes you choke and causes heat to rapidly rush to your cheeks.

“What?” You cry, “Of course not!”

Sana looks at you dryly before schooling herself with a neutral smile.

“None at all?” She pries, “But he’s so hot?”

You roll your eyes, already wanting to leave the conversation, knowing it wasn’t the wisest decision to have allowed it to prolong this far after Jungkook’s name was brought up.

“He’s like a litter brother to me.” You snap.

You hate that you know you’re lying through your teeth because you would have not let a little brother do the things Jungkook has done to you.

Sana nods, sides of her lips twitching upwards at your answer.

You sigh, “What is this about?”

She waves you off.

“Just wanted to know if he was single.”

You raise an eyebrow, heart nearly stopping at the insinuation.

“Okay …?”

Sana smiles up at you like she wasn’t interrogating you on your apparent relationship with Jungkook, a young boy turned bad with the realism of college-hood and social interactions that you can’t even compare him to the boy you knew from high school; all awkward and limbs.

“My friend’s asking. You know Jennie?”

You almost turn pale. Because of course, you know Jennie because she’s beautiful, popular, outgoing and everything that you weren’t; and everything Jungkook should’ve liked—and you were sure he did.

“Y-Yeah.” You stutter.

“She always thought you two were together so she never made her move. At least I can tell her that isn’t the case.” Sana chirps.

“Y-Yeah … you can.” You mumble, eyes looking away and the only thing plaguing your mind is the visual of Jennie and Jungkook together.

“But I always did try to tell her that she was in her head about the two of you.” Sana laughs.

You turn around, and your heart knows you should keep your mouth shut but you were always too curious for your own good.

“Oh?” You furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah.” Sana shrugs, “I mean. You’re top of the class, Ms. Student President and always put together. And not to say Jungkook isn’t but … he’s not exactly like you, you know?”

You know that. Because every time you look at old pictures of you and Jungkook you already felt the disparity, the clear-cut chase that he was at the top of the food chain while you were always left with the leftovers. You weren’t the type of girl that hung around Jungkook’s circle and he wasn’t the type of person you would hang out with.

The two of you weren’t young anymore and Jimin and Taehyung weren’t able to be that bridge between the both of you either. You and Jungkook were so drastically different and it scared you because you remember a time where you thought he was the endgame.

“I guess you’re right.” You say softly.

“Anyways. Sorry for bothering you!” Sana smiles before tugging her bag over her shoulder and offering you a small wave before she darts off in the other direction.

You’re left standing in the middle of the lounge with a heavier sense of dread on your shoulders, and the image of Jennie in your mind. She’s pretty. And you bet she’s nice too, but fun enough for Jungkook to want. Nothing like you.

But you shake your head off with the thoughts. You didn’t even deserve to think about this because Jungkook was never yours. Even if he tempts you with his words and his scalding touch, you were just someone familiar to him.

He didn’t want you.

You purse your lips and will yourself not to shed a tear in public, so you quickly turn on your heel to head towards the library; where the world is a lot quieter.

“Did you see this?” Jimin leans closer to shove his phone in front of your face.

You frown and ignore him, but he’s like an annoying brother who won’t budge when he waves the device even more.

“What?” You snap, eyes shut in irritation.

“Damn. Who pissed in your cereal?” Jimin mutters.

You roll your eyes and sigh, looking at him with a softer expression.

“Sorry.” You wince, “I just had a bad day and … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have unloaded it on you.”

Jimin smiles at you pitifully before turning to face you, placing his phone downwards on the table.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You think about what’s been bothering you and you can only think of Jungkook. How he pretended like he didn’t know you after he fingered you in the bathroom at a party. How Sana didn’t think you and Jungkook were possible. How Jennie was interested and she was gorgeous. How Jungkook would be too.

“Nah.” You wave him off, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

Jimin eyes you sceptically but you rest a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You sure?”

You nod, before cocking your head to his phone.

“What did you want to show me?”

He blinks at his phone and then picks it up, already in a different mood when he opens his device to his Instagram page.

“Did you know Kook and Jennie were a thing?” Is the first thing you hear after Jimin shows you a video that makes your heart drop into your stomach.

It’s Jungkook—and Jennie.

But that’s not it.

They’re kissing, quite passionately and people are egging them on when Jungkook slips a leg between her thighs while he cradles her face against his own. You see people cheering and hollering when Jungkook slips his tongue into her mouth, and Jennie smiling against the kiss.

It was at the party. The party where he fingered you and kissed you on the lips before he proceeded to pretend like he didn’t know you and disappear.

You wonder how you missed all of that.

“______?” Jimin calls out to you.

You blink up at him before he looks at you with a confused yet concerned expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asks.

You clear the lump in your throat, and your point is proven. They do look good together.

“I-I …” You mumble, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Jimin doesn’t believe you and he sets his phone down, but before he can say anything a new figure joins you at the table by slamming their stuff down.

When you look up, you see Jungkook—and it hurts so badly when you recognise his cocksure smirk with his eyes trained on your face.

“What are the two of you whispering about?” He snorts, settling into his seat.

Before Jimin can say anything, you push yourself up abruptly that startles both Jimin and Jungkook.

“I have to go.” You blurt.

Jimin furrows his eyebrows, “Are you really okay—”

“Yes.” You say tightly, packing your belongings as quickly as you can without sparing Jungkook another glance.

“You’re not even going to say hi?” Jungkook asks, and if you were in a better headspace then you’d hear the slight irritation in his tone.

You purse your lips, but still, keep your eyes away from him. You don’t respond to him, and neither do you flatter Jimin’s concerned stare.

But before you can leave, Jimin grabs your wrist and your breath hitches, head-turning slowly to face him while you ignore Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Text me?” He says softly.

You knew from Jimin’s eyes that he’s worried, and you felt slightly guilty for leaving him behind like this when you promised him to study. But you couldn’t be around Jungkook right now. Not when your mind was everywhere and you were confused about everything.

Not when the video exists.

“I will.” You reply, equally as soft.

You tug your hands away and don’t spare Jungkook another glance before you’re rushing out of the library, the lump in your throat more apparent than ever.

[cerinefalls]

One Bed {A Shoto Todoroki xReader Trope-Fic}

This work is the first of a series.

3290 words

MHA/BNHA trope fic

fluff

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On this lovely night, an unexpected stop had UA in a tizzy. Of course, something had gone wrong. You were on a trip with the hero course, after all. The bus came to a screeching halt in the darkness, which woke most of the students aboard.

"Is everyone alright?" Aizawa stood groggily from his bus seat and turned to face the body of students behind him. It looked like students weren't the only ones awoken by the unexpected stop.

"We're fine, Mr. Aizawa." Denki shot a thumbs up in the direction of his teacher, letting him know that his group had been fine.

"Yep, looking good on this side of the bus!" Kirishima seconded. The two boys were right. 1A's side of the bus was hardly affected by the whiplash-inducing pause in their trip.

The same could not be said for Class B. Due to the direction of the bus, Class B's student body had ended up halfway on the floor. Aizawa could clearly see this when he turned to ask for a status update, but he accepted the 'I'm fine' from his students and sat down long before anyone addressed it.

"I'm sorry, kids. Somethin's wrong with the engine." The bus driver hopped up out of his seat and bowed at the front of the aisle. It was some form of apology, though no one believed it was needed.

"It's fine," Shouta grumbled from his seat. "Vlad will get us rooms somewhere so we can wait out the night. It's unsafe to stay here with villains roaming around." After a few moments of back and forth between the hero-course teachers, Vlad cracked and began searching for hotels nearby.

Soon enough, classes 1A and 1B had walked to a nearby hotel. You'd arrived safely! What a feat for this school. As soon as you walked in, though, you could tell why arriving safely wasn't the worst of your concerns. Immediately whispers began floating amongst students.

"Enough." Aizawa progressed to the front of the group and shushed them, which with his demeanor worked quickly. Everyone turned their attention to him and listened to what he had to say. "They have been kind enough to let us bring all of you here. Be respectful."

"Yeah, because all their rooms were empty..." One student joked from the back. They instantaneously regretted their decision.

"Go to the front and get your room keys." Vlad pointed in the direction of the check-in desk while Aizawa dealt with the problem-child.

What a time! Staying in a hotel with unknown reviews on a night you were meant to be safe in your dorms. This had to be the safest, most organized thing UA had ever allowed to happen, right? It was no surprise at this point. You let your annoyed thoughts sink to the back of your mind as you walked to the room you were assigned and swiped your key.

Wait- what was that? Something brushed your hand as you reached for the door. You snatched your hand back, fight or flight switched on in your unfamiliar surroundings, but when you turned around, all you saw was a puzzled face on one of your classmates.

"Shoto?" You questioned, startled but settling down. He nodded in response.

"The woman at the desk gave me a key to this room," he explained.

"She gave me a key to this room," you elaborated, matching the confusion he was displaying.

"Maybe we are meant to share it," he suggested. You hadn't thought about that. The hotel was housing forty-one students and two teachers, so it'd make sense if you were supposed to share rooms. You nodded.

"It isn't impossible." You wanted to make sure, though. Reaching your hand over again, you placed the black bar on the back of your card against the lock. With a click, it opened. "Hm, now you try." You stepped back to give him room.

Todoroki took a few moments to realize what you were trying to do, but once he did, he stood to attention. Shoto placed the bar of his own card onto the lock, and just as it had with yours, the lock opened. He stepped forward with a hum, pushing open the door and waiting for you to enter.

"Oh? Thank you." You tried not to sound worried as you carried yourself as well as your bag into the room. It was separated! How lovely. For a ditsy-looking hotel, the room sure seemed nice. You sat your bag next to the couch and put your exhausted body to rest right above it, falling on the furniture with a thud.

Todoroki wasn't far behind you, closing the door when he walked in and placing his bag next to the armchair. He took a seat on the chair and turned in your direction.

"You should shower," He said plainly.

"Are you calling me stinky?" You joked, attempting to make light of the soon-to-be awkward situation. It appeared your humor was completely lost on this one, though, because instead of a laugh, you saw a dull face and slow-shaking head.

"No, not like that." Todoroki denied your claim. "I'm saying we were doing field training, and you should clean up. I'll let you go first." He was keen on giving you the first chance at things. It was sweet of him, no matter how bland he was while doing it. Kindness was kindness, and you weren't about to turn kindness down.

"Right," you agreed, not surprised your joke had flown over this boy's head. For someone half cold-half hot, his personality sure took after one side at a time.

You slowly stood off the couch and grabbed your bag, walking towards the washroom. After addressing him with a final nod of thanks, you disappeared past the doorframe. Once steam began to seep past the crack underneath, Shoto reached for his bag and took out his phone, knowing you were comfortable in the shower.

40 Missed Calls from "Father."

Shoto swiped the notifications away and went to text endeavor with an update. By the time he'd passive-aggressively responded to his father's concerns and beat three levels of his 'brain games,' you'd emerged from the shower and opened the door.

"I only had my casual clothes as spares, so I'll be sleeping in a t-shirt tonight. I hope you brought something." You spoke embarrassedly as Todoroki stared you down. It was odd how long his eyes were fixed on your wet hair, almost as if he was trying to figure something out. Even as you walked back to the couch and sat down- his eyes followed the upper half of your body and studied you.

After this prolonged experience, he went right back to normal without speaking a word. All he did was nod at you as you had him, walking into the washroom and shutting the door. You didn't see any steam after he turned the water on, which you thought was mildly confusing. Had he stepped in already? Apparently so, though you didn't figure this out until fifteen minutes later when he finally emerged.

"Go use the restroom before bed." A half-dressed Shoto Todoroki walked back into the 'living room' with completely dry hair. While you'd covered your upper body, he'd covered his lower. Had that been why he'd stared at you before? He was even making a point to fluff his hair with his hands, taking his seat back on the armchair.

"Good idea." You replied, quickly scurrying to the washroom once again. You hadn't realized it, but you needed to pee. You'd first noticed on the bus, but since the stress of the situation got to you, you'd completely forgotten.

When you approached the toilet, you saw the handle of the shower through your peripheral vision. It was turned completely towards the cold setting. Todoroki washed up in that? No wonder his mood was as cold as his right side.

After washing and drying your hands, you joined Todoroki once again. It was nearing time for the two of you to go to sleep, and neither of you checked the bedroom yet. That gave you an idea.

"Hey, Todoroki, let's look around the room before bed." You suggested.

"But, your hair?" He sounded confused.

"What about my hair?" You questioned him, patting your head in an attempt to find what he was talking about.

"You shouldn't go to bed with wet hair. It can make you sick." Todoroki stated quietly. For someone so brief in speaking, his attention to detail was uncanny. "Aizawa would be annoyed if you got sick." He reminded you, and he was probably right. That, as well as the fact that being sick sounded rather unappealing with recovery girl hours away.

"You're right." You nodded in agreeance with him. "Let me go dry it-"

"Let me." Shoto Todoroki just offered to dry your hair. Something about the idea seemed... unsafe.

"Why you?" You questioned, intrigued.

"You didn't do it the first time and I know where the hairdryer is." He stood up and walked towards the room again, opening the door and waiting for you. "Unless you don't want me to."

"Hairdryer?" You were unsure of that. The last thing you wanted was for your hair to get damaged in some way. You thought about it, though. Todoroki's hair was well-kept and looked healthy. It was unlikely he'd do anything wrong, even if your hair was a bit different. "I... trust you." You nodded, following him and standing in front of the sink.

"Okay, stand still." He reached behind the door and took out a cloth bag. From the bag, he pulled out a white, clunky hairdryer. When Shoto plugged it in, the lights in the washroom flickered, startling you.

"You used that on your head!?" You expressed your concern openly.

"No. I don't use hairdryers. I just know how to because Fuyumi taught me. This one doesn't seem safe, though." Todoroki unplugged the hairdryer and sat it on the ironing board, far away from any water sources. " I could dry your hair how I dry my own if you're okay with that."

"Oh, you towel dry? Or does your hair air-dry fast?" You had to admit, you were slightly interested.

"Neither," he shook his head.

"Then..."

"I use my flames."

"What?"

"Midoriya suggested I practice using smaller flames for simple tasks. It helps me." Todoroki demonstrated, a small blaze lighting from his palm. It was interesting to watch such a controlled flame come from him when he'd been a walking inferno during training. "I started using it to dry things because it was safer with water around."

"So you haven't been doing this for very long?" You were skeptical of this method, though as you'd noted before, his hair was still healthy. Clearly, he was doing something right.

"No, I have not, but I've accumulated a skill for it. I'm comfortable containing a flame this size for a long time now." Todoroki explained

It took you a few minutes to consider, time he spent sitting on the edge of the tub and playing with his fire. It was refreshing to see him using it so comfortably when it was clearly not his strongest point. Not trusting him with it seemed almost rude now. "I've made my decision," you turned his way, earning a look of interest. "I still trust you. Show me how you dry your hair." Though you were not sure, you could almost swear you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. It was hard to tell, though, because it lasted only a moment before he stood and walked behind you again.

"Stand still." He requested, raising his right hand just next to the edge of your silhouette. He carefully guided a warm flame around your head. It quickly evaporated the water nearest the air around the two of you but did nothing for the soaked roots. After a thoughtful hum, Todoroki made a tactical decision. He started to section your hair, slowly but surely getting to the root without burning you. After he was done, he fluffed your hair like he had fluffed his own and took a step back.

"Thank you." You smiled, looking over your shoulder in the mirror. In the reflection, you saw a well-contented Shoto Todoroki, looking at his righthand proudly. You dare not mention it for fear of embarrassing him, but it made you smile.

"Thank you for the opportunity." He nodded respectfully, opening the door fully and waiting for you to step out. Once you did, he followed.

The two of you stood in the makeshift hallway until someone yawned, making you giggle. It was time to check out the bedroom, a unanimous decision you'd made. With a loud creak, the door opened and the two of you stepped in.

It wasn't what you expected, to say the very least. You walked into what looked like a beautiful bedroom! It was minimalistically styled, a good choice for a hotel. It was even spacious enough for multiple beds! But... there weren't. You walked into a bedroom that only housed four pieces of furniture; a console table, a dresser, a nightstand, and a California king-sized bed.

"Did we miss something?" You asked, walking around and checking each of the walls. Nothing seemed out of place, and you didn't see any buttons.

"No. The woman told me there would be one bed located in the bedroom area." Shoto explained, placing his bag down by the door. He'd brought your bag as well and placed it on the opposite side of the door. "I was planning on sleeping in the opposite room had I gotten a roommate. I want you to take the bed." It would of course make sense to have the stronger student by the front in the event of an attack, but he did not tell you that.

"There are windows in this room. I think it's safer if we stick together." You suggested, trying to think of ways the two of you could share the space comfortably. The bed looked big enough to fit two full-sized Fatgums, so it wasn't impossible.

"Are you comfortable with me staying here? There's plenty of room in the front if you're worried about me falling off." He reassured you of his safety. Todoroki knew it'd be better to cover both potential entrances, but he also considered your mental well-being. If it made you feel safer with another person, he'd stay.

"I..." You thought for a moment, sitting on the edge of the bed. The all too familiar coolness of the hotel bedspread made up your mind for you. "I'd prefer if you stayed with me." You couldn't possibly make him stay on the couch. He was well-mannered and respectful. It wasn't like you'd struck out and gotten stuck with Bakugo. Keeping Shoto away from the comfort of a hotel bed simply wasn't an option- or at least, not one you were considering.

"Thank you." He nodded. "What side of the bed do you want?" Once again, he was giving you the first pick. You couldn't tell if this instance was him being polite or indecisive, nor did you truly care. His offer allowed you to pick the side of the bed you were most comfortable with, and you did.

Todoroki closed the door and climbed into bed next to you, keeping to his edge. You didn't notice until you rolled over. You thought you'd hit his leg and went to apologize, but he wasn't next to you. The poor boy was barely hugging the edge of the bed.

"Todoroki-" You called out quietly, at a loss for what to say, really.

"Yes?" He answered without a hint of tiredness in his voice. How could he be? Hugging the corner had to be taking some serious effort.

"I'm not scared of you or anything. You can lay down on the bed if you want to." You reminded him you were allowing him near you despite his previous offer. It almost felt like he was scared of you.

"Oh." Hesitantly he rolled back onto the mattress.

"Have you never shared a bed with anyone?" You questioned, unaware of the can you just opened.

Todoroki sat up and turned on the lamp, shaking his head 'no.' Then, and you weren't sure for how long, he went on a tangent about his home life. Shoto explained calmly that until recently, he hadn't had a chance to make friends and enjoy people for who they were. It was far from the simple answer you wanted, but it was enlightening, to say the least.

"So, I do not have much experience in this sort of thing. I do most things alone." He concluded, turning to face you in the dimly lit room. He hadn't looked at you the whole time, appearing lost in his own mind for most of the conversation. It was almost as though you were just an outlet for him at the moment.

"I see," you nodded. There wasn't much you could do. From the way he described it, you didn't pity him. On the contrary, you thought he was strong for enduring after having been dealt such a foul hand in life. None of his stories surprised you, either. They all fit together, woven into one silent-loathing UA first-year. "Can I ask you something?"  You asked, hoping he'd allow your next question.

"Yes," he replied with no visual facial cues.

"Could I help you learn to do things... not alone? As a hero, you'll need to be comfortable around your peers." At least, that was the reason you gave him. It was not why you'd asked, though. You did not pity him, but you did feel as though a support system was what he needed. If that had to start with you and  Midoriya, it was fine by you.

"That would be nice." Shoto laid down in the bed, turning the lamp out once more. It was silent for a while- a peaceful silence that you rather enjoyed. It definitely did not remain that way, though. You broke the silence with a shocked gasp when you felt something come behind you and wrap around your waist. You knew what it was even though you could hardly believe it.

"Shoto?" You called him by name. He only hummed in acknowledgment, waiting for you to ask your question. "Why are you..?"

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" His hold loosened and he backed up, fearing he'd done something wrong. "Natsuo told me that if I was ever put in this situation I should make sure they feel warm and protected. Are you too warm? Or do you feel unsafe?" Shoto had clearly taken his brother's joking advice a bit too seriously.

"Oh? No, no." You figured there was no harm in it, it'd just shocked you. "You can practice on me, but next time it's Midoriya's turn."

Todoroki nodded against your neck, scooted in closer than he had been before. Thank the heavens above for the air conditioning unit, because otherwise, you might have actually been 'too hot.' His quirks weren't the only thing half cold-half hot- his whole body was. Maybe it was some offset of his determination, but you surely felt the difference across your skin.

You had no time to critique his temporal settings.  Before you could get out another word, you heard a soft snore from behind you. Shoto Todoroki had fallen asleep already. It was looking like those cuddle-puddles Ochako tried to set up may have actually been a good idea. Even you felt tired now.

The two of you slept under odd circumstances that night, close and comfy. It was a mighty good thing no one checked for a pullout sofa.

[raineydays411]

Mission In Progress

Steve Rogers x daughter!reader

Summary: Steve realizes that his past behavior may have cost him the love of his daughter.

A/n: Hello! This is the second part to my Steve Rogers series! I hope you like it and also I hope y’all get the little references I put in these lol💕

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean Natasha taught you?”

Oh shit.

That was the collective thought between you, Nat, Clint, and Tony. It was well known among the team that Steve didn’t want his daughter learning ANY form of self defense, but those four thought that was ridiculous. She was Captain America's daughter, she definitely would need to fight off an enemy sooner or later.

“well...nat taught me the basics on how to defend myself, she said it would come in handy someday.” You say quietly, picking the thread on your sleeve rather than looking at your father.

“Romanoff, you taught her how to fight?” Steve said, fury bleeding into his eyes. “I made it perfectly clear--”

“Steve, its unreasonable for her not to know how to fight, she's the daughter of one of the worlds greatest defenders. If she doesn’t fight, she’s dead.”, Natasha said bluntly, staring Steve in the face as the other Avengers grew uncomfortable.

“She’s perfectly fine, it’s not like she leaves the Tower anyway.”

“Because if she did, you’d have someone follow her. It’s creepy, man”  Tony butts in with a roll of his eyes. By now both Bruce and Thor had silently left the room, as both of them would be useless in this conversation.

“Oh, so Tony Stark is gonna teach me how to raise a kid? Isn’t that ironic.”

“It’s not like you’re doing any better on your own. All Y/n does is stay in her room and write in that book of hers, she doesn’t even talk to people her own age.”

“It’s safer that way and you all know it” Steve snaps, refusing to even look your way. “ I set those rules for a reason, and I don’t appreciate my team mate or friends going behind my back and breaking them.”

“Look, Steve we love you, but the way you’re going about this whole parenting situation is completely wrong.” Clint finally says. “ I get that you were thrusted into this role, we all do. But man, you can protect Y/n from everything and it’s not healthy for her to be locked away in the tower like--”

“Like some modern day Rapunzel” 

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You all know the reason why she’s not allowed to leave. Its just safer that way.” Steve says, expecting the conversation to be over. “ Now, we’ll talk about this when we get back to --”

“You don’t lock me away for my protection” You say looking up with a determined face. Steve, obviously stunned you called him out like that turned to you and said

“ Excuse me?” 

“ It was never about me. If you wanted me to be safe, you would have taught me how to defend myself as soon as you could. You would have told the world about me, just to make sure everyone knows not to mess with me.” You say, your brow furrowed. “ You say its for safety, but who’s safety is it really for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve says in a low, slow tone. 

“Everytime I come in a room, you tense up like I’m going to attack you.” You start to say, realizing that once you reveal what you noticed, things will never be the same. “ You monitor everything I do. You never allow me to be alone. You don’t talk to be about missions and don’t allow anyone else to.” You stand up off the couch. “ You refuse to acknowledge my mother, and won’t even let read the journal she left me.”

“That’s enough Y/n”

“No!” You shout. “ It’s not fair I don’t understand why you treat me like this.” Steve looks at you in surprise. 

“ Y/n, you don’t understand.”

“ I do. You don’t trust me.” You finally say. “ You haven’t from day one, and I don’t know why. It's not like a six year old is a Hydra agent by disguise.” 

Hearing this Steve freezes. He knows that all this surveillance was unnecessary. And deep down he knew that you could never hurt not even a fly. but that tiny voice in his head got the best of him. And even though he grew to love you more than he’d like to admit, the thought of you being am enemy scared him. 

“ You are a threat.” Steve says stubbornly. “ You came out of nowhere, with nothing but a note in the middle of the night. Your mother is nowhere to be found, and I have no idea who to even look for. You look nothing like me and defiantly don’t act like me.” 

Hearing these words is like a knife being repeatedly stabbed in your heart. It’s one thing to think that your dad doesn’t love you, it's another to hear them directly from his mouth. 

“ I have done nothing for you to treat me like this. I have done nothing to lose your trust. I didn’t ask for my mother to leave me here with you. It’s not my fault.” You say, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “ That robot asked me to go with him you know?”

The whole room freezes. You never mentioned that when Clint picked you up from the Tower.

“ He asked me to go with him, because he said I had no one. I had nothing to loose. And now” You let tears run down your face. “ Now that I know he’s right, I still wouldn’t go with him. Because I would NEVER want someone to get hurt because of me.” And with that you pushed past the group of superheros and ran outside. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had to get out of that house.

You walk into town and into a bookshop that was surprisingly open at this hour. The clerk looked at you in annoyance as you wandered the isles quietly. Picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet, you walk toward the counter to pay.

“Tch, Romeo and Juliet?” The cashier says

“What about it?” you ask, puzzled that he cared enough to mention it. 

“Nothing if you’re thirteen and never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” You say, eyes lighting up at the chance to talk to someone your own age without the gaze of an agent boring into your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, there was a tense silence in the house. Steve left with the words you told him rattling in his brain. 

“You know, Y/n always used to come to me for help picking out the perfect father's day gift for you.” Clint said breaking the silence in the room. “ She insisted we wake up hours before you to go to the shops just to surprise you. She loved wrapping the gift and the thought of making you happy.” He smiled bitterly. “ I loved every second of it, watching her reminded me of my own family. It broke my heart to see her little face deflate when you barely acknowledged the gift and treated it like it was a bomb or something.” He shakes his head and walks out. Natasha follows him and says ‘ Its late, it's not safe for her to be out there alone, I’m going to look for her.”. Then she’s gone. Leaving only Tony and Steve in the living room. It’s quiet for a few minutes. They can hear Clint playing with his children, Lila laughing as Cooper and Clint chase her. 

“ You know, all my life I had to wonder if my dad loved me too.” Tony said suddenly. “ I guess that’s why I got along with Y/n so well.”

Steve sat on the couch and sighed. “ I guess I could’ve approached this differently.”

“That's your problem Rogers, you treat her like a mission. She’s a kid. Even I know that you can’t raise a kid that way.”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “So, what do you think I should do?”  

Tony rolled his eyes again.” Well for one, you can go look for your fourteen year old daughter who ran out in the middle of the night in an area she doesn’t know.”

Steve's eyes widened and he shot up, “ Shit, I- I have to go find her.” and with that he ran out of the living room, leaving Tony alone as he heard him shout 

“Language!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Steve to get into town. The only problem he really faced was figuring out where you might be. Almost everything was closed except for a liquor store and some bars. He started to panic, as he started to think about the possibility of you being hurt or kidnapped or--

“Hey bomb pop, over here” someone whispers

Steve looks around to see Natasha standing in front of a bookshop. He jogs up to her and asks

“Nat what are you--” “SHHH, look” she points into the window.

At first Steve didn’t know what he was looking at. All he saw was two kids flirting on some bean bags. But then he looked closer and realized that was his kid flirting on some bean bags. He got ready to burst in there and drag her out, which surprised him.

“What are you doing” Natasha harshly whispered, “This is the first time in years y/n has talked to someone her age, and I will NOT let you ruin it.”

“But does it have to be a boy” Steve whines, then he shrinks back as Nat glares at him. 

“You have no right to play protective daddy right now, you--”

“Dad? Nat? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about an hour since you started talking to Levi, the cashier. Even though he insulted your book choice

“It’s a play about two bratty kids who think they’re in love and then kill themselves, its pathetic”

He’s interesting. He has this harsh exterior that is refreshing to you. You liked that he didn’t handle you with kids gloves like the rest of the Avengers did. He let you stay behind after closing as long as you helped him clean, but you didn’t last long because apparently you “cleaned like a blind person with no hands” whatever that means. After cleaning you two sat and talked about music and his friends. It was nice. That was until you felt eyes on you.

Looking out the window you noticed two figures staring at you. One petite red head and a tall blonde to be more specific. Rolling your eyes, you say goodbye to Levi and thank him for one of the best nights you’ve had in a while. As you left he did something that surprised you.

“Hey brat, here’s my number.” He says as he gives you an old receipt, “ Don’t expect me to text you all night, I have a life too.” 

You just smile and say thank you, blushing as you realize this was your first friend in years. You put the number in your pocket and walk outside. 

“Dad? Nat?” You ask, cutting their little squabbling short. “What are you two doing here?” 

Nat and Steve stand up straight. 

“It was getting late and I was worried so I came to find you” Natasha said, “ But it seems to me that you were quite alright in there” She finishes with a smirk. You blush as you try to think of a retort. Before you say anything, you hear your dad clear his throat. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t getting intel on how to kill you or whatever you think what will happen if i make friends.” You again push past the two avengers, your good mood spoiled as you walk away. You hear some harsh whispering then your name is called. 

“Y/n” your father calls, “I think we need to talk.”

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Tag list: @angeldreineedshelp @night-thinqer @ilyimagines @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

[ded-space]

A Stray Puppy, Can We Keep It?? (GN!Teen!MC!) Ft. The OM! Bro's

Reblogging Perms ✅

*You and the bro's (except Lucifer who's with Diavolo) were walking home from School when they hear a soft whimper*

Mammon:GAhh! Oi! Who's there! *Takes Stance*

Satan: Sigh.. It sounds like a small animal.

Asmo: Oou! I hope it's a cute one!

Beel: Is it tasty?

Belphie: I don't think so.. Beel.

Levi: Eer- It sounds like it's coming from that alleyway..

Mc: Let's investigate! *You look down the alleyway and see a small puppy in a box"

Satan: By the looks of it it's been here a while..

Asmo: I bet it would clean up nice! :D

Mammon: What're we gonna do 'bout it?

Levi: Of course we have to take care of it!

Belphie: We don't have to.

Beel: But we should.

Mc: Let's try and convince Lucifer to keep her!

Beel: How do you know it's a- *Hand covers his mouth*

Belphie: You will learn in anatomy class next semester..

Satan: Hmm.. Mc, I believe you would have the best shot at getting Lucifer's approval. I think you should be the one to talk to him about it.

Mc: Me!?

Asmo: Yep! It's because he's crushing on you!

Mammon: Tsk!

Levi: Hm Hm! Stupid Mammon is also!

Mammon: Shuddup! Dumb Otaku! Ya like Mc too!

Levi: EEhhh!? *Blushies*

Asmo: Ouu! He didn't deny it! Things are getting interesting!

Belphie: And nowhere..

Beel: *Found some jerky in his pocket*

Satan: I agree, *snatches the jerky from Beel* She's Probably hungry. *offers out the food to the puppy*

Belphie: *Pats pouting Beel on back* It'll be alright we have more at home.

Beel: Mm 😔

Mammon: Won't it bite ya?

Levi: W-why would she, we're feeding her?

Asmo: If she's scared, it's possible that she might bite.

*The puppy crawls out of the box, inching towards the offering*

Satan: Despite being more of a cat person myself, I must say this puppy is quite cute.

Levi: I-I think she has a bit of a limp?

Asmo: Poor thing!

Belphie: She might be too tired to walk properly.

Beel: Mm Let's hope she's not injured.

*The puppy begins to naw on the jerky*

Mammon: So what're we gonna call 'er?

Asmo: Oou! How about Jem!

Beel: Bisquit!

Levi: Ruri!

Belphie: Athena?

Satan: Hinata?

Mammon: Ellie!

Mc: Those are all good names! How about we do a draw!

(A/N:I actually put the names into a randomizer)

Mc: Athena wins! So we'll call her Athena!

Asmo: She looks cold..

Satan: You're right.. Mammon, Give me your jacket.

Mammon: What!? Why mine!?

Belphie: Sigh, just give it to him Mammon.

Levi: *Chuckles*

Mammon: *Looks to Mc* Grr.. Fine. *Hands Satan his jacket.* Tsk.

Satan: *Wraps Athena in Mammon's jacket*

Beel: Can we go home now?

Asmo: Yes! Let's!

*Everyone (Except Lucifer) gets home*

Satan: Asmo would you please get the shower running?

Asmo: Sure!

Satan: Beel and Belphie, will you two go out and try to find some dog food for Athena.

Beel: Mm.

Belphie: Argh I'm tired but I guess..

Satan: Mammon, will you help out in cleaning her off?

Mammon: Yeah, aight.

Satan: Levi, since you found using Mammons jaket so funny earlier would you throw it in the wash?

Levi: Fine-

Mc: I'll start thinking about how to approach Lucifer about this.

Satan: Good Idea.

*Everyone except Lucifer meets back up in the common room in preparation for his arrival*

*Athena is clean and groomed. Beel and Belphie are back with the dog food.*

*Click-Click, the door unlocks*

Lucifer: *Walks in* Why are you all gathered here?

Mc: We made a friend on our way home from school! *Holds up Athena, who's wagging her tail*

Lucifer: She's very cute, who does she belong to?

Mc: ..She was abandoned.. Please Lucifer can we keep her!? Athena is the sweetest! And We'll take good care of her!

Lucifer: You already named her!?

Mc: Yeah, we did a draw. Belphie chose the name, I think it suits her.

Lucifer: I don't think my brothers can handle the responsibility that comes with having a pet.. Just think about what happened to Henry 1.0..

Levi: T-that's different!

Mc: The 7 of us can split the responsibility and i'll make sure she's taken care of so please! We all worked together to take care of her just now! Satan, Asmo, and Mammon all washed and groomed her! Beel and Belphie went out and got her food! Levi washed Mammon's jacket and I played with her while we waited for you to get home!

Lucifer: Why did Levi have to wash Mammon's.. I suppose it's irrelevant.

Everyone: *Puppy dog eyes (Even Satan)*

Lucifer: ..Eer- Very well! However, if I find out she's not being well taken care of she is going to be put up for adoption! You're lucky I'm a dog person..

Everyone: Thank You Lucifer!

Mc: *You give Lucifer the biggest hug!*

Asmo: Is Lucifer blushing!?

Lucifer: N-No I'M NOT

Mammon: *Click* *Flash*

Lucifer: MAMMONN!!

Mammon: EEK!

Levi: HEHEHEH

Satan: Pfft-

Beel: MUNCH *He ate all the dog food while everyone was talking*

Belphie: ZzZzzZZ *Fell asleep*

Athena: ARRF! 🐶 *snuggles Lucifer's leg*

A Month Later;

*Athena follows everyone around, marching behind people cutely*

Mammon: *Taught Athena some tricks, how to play dead, roll over, and shake! Fetch.. is a work in progress..*

Beel: *Now has a little friend to share leftovers with*

Asmo: *Put's little accessories and outfits on Athena, He's constantly pampering her.*

Lucifer: *Enjoys when Athena lays on his lap as he watches TV or does paperwork. It's a very cute sight.*

Belphie: *Athena likes to take naps with Belphie*

Satan: *Likes taking Athena to different dog parks, sometimes with Mammon so they can play*

Levi: *Athena likes to tap keys on his gaming pc, it's all cute, fun and games until he loses his save..*

Requested by: @dexpairs-blog

🎉🎉🎉50th post!🎉🎉🎉

[dancing-in-a-yellow-dress]

Trapped Little Angel (part 1)

Welcome to the first part of the first fanfic on this account.

Child!reader x the Avengers

Word count: 2900

Trigger warning: Imprisonment, nightmares, non graphic descriptions of violence and injuries, possible trigger for eating disorders

--

You were a 14-year-old orphan living alone in New York, since your family had died in the explosion that gave you your powers. Your powers were similar to Wanda’s (telekinesis and all that jazz). You got them when you were 7, but for whatever reason they hadn’t been active before that day.

It was a basic September day with all of its rain and fog and clouds. You were walking on the street when suddenly you blacked out and your powers exploded out of you destroying property and hurting people everywhere around you. The Avengers were called to action and they evacuated the block and when you’d cooled off a little they took you into custody and to the Avengers tower.

You had passed out and they didn`t really know what to do with you, so they laid you down on the couch and began a debate about the subject.

Tony believed firmly that you were dangerous to the team and the best thing for everyone would be to lock you up isolated and unstimulated to avoid new outbursts until a better option would be available. Steve backed Tony up to an extent, although he did believe the isolation to be unnecessary. Bruce didn’t really voice his opinion on confinement that much, instead focusing on the medical aspect of the situation.

Clint doesn’t really say much during the argument, before Tony raises the possibility of indefinite imprisonment in isolation. That is what finally gets to him, since you are just a kid and remind him of his own daughter. Wanda argues firmly against any form of forced imprisonment. In her opinion you needed medical attention, after which instead of locking you up the team should be focused on helping you control and develop your powers in a beneficial way.

Natasha is uncharacteristically quiet for the whole debate. Something about you had got to her and she found it hard to think of the situation objectively without a massive bias. Peter was on ‘your side’ for sure. To him you were a troubled kid who just happened to need some help. In a way he saw himself in you.

You start to regain consciousness about halfway through the argument. The Avengers are taken back at first, but when you are very confused and scared, Nat and Clint (who are the most ‘neutral’ participants) tell you what happened. When you have gotten the big picture you ask shakily: “How many people did I hurt? What’s the damage?” The others are hesitant to tell you, but Tony is highly pissed at you, so he takes his tablet and shows you some pics of the place where the accident happened. Wanda shoots him a death glare, but he continues and reads the statistics to you: “At this exact moment there are 9 people dead, 27 in critical condition and 56 with milder injuries. All because of your little stunt.” At this point you have pulled your knees to your chest and are struggling to breathe. Steve and Clint look at Tony like he has lost his mind and Nat tries to calm you down. You are repeating the same things over and over again: “I didn’t mean to- It’s all my fault… I don’t know how- What- I didn’t mean to…” Nat was approaching you, her hand reached out ready to stroke your back and pull you into a hug. She says: “We know. Everything will be alright, it’ll be alright. It wasn’t your fault, we’ll sort this out. It’s okay, you’re okay. We don’t blame you, but right now you need to calm down.” You flinch away from her, panic shining in your eyes: “No! Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t control it… I don’t understand- I didn’t mean to…” Suddenly you look desperately at Tony “You have to lock me up. I’m dangerous. I can’t be trusted. I have to be put away. Please”, you beg, surprising all of the other people in the room. Peter is about to say something, but Tony cuts him off.

You stand up and Clint shows you the way to a quite big cell. You step in and he shuts the door behind you. You sit on the floor in the corner and pull your knees to your chest. You just blankly stare at the wall. You noticed that there was a camera in corner of the room near the roof as you stepped inside, but you didn’t care. What did it matter. As you stayed on the floor the team was reheating the discussion whilst keeping an eye on the monitor that showed footage from your cell.

Wanda and Peter were shouting at Tony for locking you up in an isolation cell. Natasha and Clint were a bit calmer, but they were backing Wanda and Peter up. At some point Tony says: “You heard the kid. She wanted to be locked up. Even she thought it would be the best option”. And that sets Natasha off: “Yeah, after you had scared the poor thing on the verge of a panic attack. That wasn’t fair play. You drove her to that decision and you know it.” Then Peter fires: “Besides the whole ‘she decided herself’ excuse is bullshit. She’s a kid. SHE’S 14. I’m 17 and you don’t trust me to do anything yet, so how again is she any different?” That shuts Tony up.

In the end the team comes to the conclusion, that they will be monitoring you strictly and willing people will be allowed to go talk to you. All except Peter (just for the first few days) who is infuriated to no end by the decision.

The first person to come talk to you is Wanda. She comes and talks for a while, but you can’t make any sense of what she’s saying. After a while she leaves shutting the door behind her. Steve also comes to question you, and even though this time you understand what he is saying you can’t find the energy to answer him in you. Clint brings you something to eat and drink, but you don’t move a muscle to acknowledge the act. Time sort of looses its meaning to you as you sit on the floor and stare into nothing, alone with your thoughts, the same thoughts over and over and over again.

Nevertheless, you know some time has passed when Natasha comes through the door with another tray filled with food. She places it carefully on her untouched bed and sighs deeply before speaking: “You should really start eating on your own. It’s been two whole days and you haven’t taken a bite. I get that its hard, but you’ve got to try. Otherwise we’ll have no choice but to put a feeding tube down your throat and trust me kid, that does not feel good.” She gives you another look, then turns around and walks out. Slowly you straighten your legs on the floor.

You hadn’t really noticed how much your muscles were hurting for being in the same position for so long before someone pointed it out. You stretched your legs first and then stood up slowly. You went through your body, stretching every muscle one at a time and then sat down beside the bed to eat. You weren’t really hungry, but the threat of getting a feeding tube stuffed down your throat was enough to get you eating.

After you were done with the meal you went back to your corner and sat back down, leaving your legs laying on the floor instead of curling up to a tight bundle. After a few minutes there was a knock at the door and Wanda walked in. She picked the tray up and looked down at you, clearly assessing the situation before finally saying: ”Hey, I was wondering if you needed to use the bathroom.” You didn’t answer her but stood up and stepped timidly few steps forward so that she knew you’d be coming along. She guided you through the hallways and into a bathroom. “There is a towel on the counter and shampoo on a shelf in the shower. Take as long as you need. I’ll pick up some clean clothes for you and bring them here. Okay?” You didn’t say a word but nodded and opened the door to the bathroom. After half an hour you were back in your cell but feeling significantly cleaner and comfier.

Instead of sitting back in the corner on the floor you sat on your bed and crossed your legs. You didn’t know why, but you felt like it, so you started singing, first just humming quietly, then adding the words to the song. It was an old lullaby your mom had sang to you more than once. Some things just had a way of sticking with you.

`Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

nyt kuuluu keijujen äänet

Ne tanssivat taas koko yön laulaen

koko yön laulaen.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

taas syttyy tähtöset pienet

Ne oottavat taas läpi yön loistaen

läpi yön loistaen.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

nyt sammuu keijujen äänet

Ne liitävät taas ylös luo tähtien

ylös luo tähtien`

Then you sang it over again, this time in English

If your quiet, very quiet,

you can hear sound of the fairies

They’re dancing again through the night until day

through the night until day

Very quiet, almost silent

the stars are lighting the sky

they’re waiting again till the night fades away

till the night fades away

If you’re quiet, very quiet

you can hear sound the fairies

they race through the sky so they’ll be near the stars

so they’ll be near the stars

You sang the song a couple times over and finally you got to the last part you had made up on your own. You always ended it there, since you could never continue singing after that.

Hyvin hiljaa, hyvin hiljaa

ei kuulu keijujen äänet

Ne lähtivät taas minut yksin jättäen

minut yksin jättäen

Even if you’re very quiet

you won’t hear sound of the fairies

they flew up the sky leaving me alone behind

leaving me alone behind.

You broke down sobbing. Clint was sitting at the monitor, and he thought it’d be best not to disturb you, so you were left alone as you start humming another melody your mom taught you.

Joka ilta kun lamppu sammuu ja saapuu oikea yö Niin Nukku-Matti nousee ja ovehen hiljaa lyö On sillä uniset tossut ja niillä se sipsuttaa Se hiipii ovesta sisään ja hyppää kaapin taa

”I didn’t know she was finnish” Nastasha said to clint as she sat next to him with two cups of tea. “Finnish?” Clint asked as they listened to the beautiful melody coming from the lonely cell. Nat was quiet for a while before saying “Yeah. The language is absolutely bizarre.” They sat in silence for another while, until Clint said: “She sounds miserable” “Yeah, but who wouldn’t. I’m guessing she has no family, since no one has come asking for her.”

Ja pieni sateenvarjo on aivan kallellaan Ja sinistä unien kirjaa se kantaa kainalossaan Ja unien sinimaahan se lapset autolla vie Surrur, surrur ja sinne on sininen, uninen tie

Ja siellä on kultainen metsä, ja metsässä kultainen puu Ja unien sinilintu ja linnulla kultainen suu Ja se unien sinilintu se lapsia tuudittaa Se laulaa unisen laulun joka mielen uneen saa

Your mum never taught you that song in English. You had tried translating it, but it always turned out so peculiar you had eventually given up.

When you felt like you had cried enough you stopped with the finnish and started going through songs you had heard somewhere else, altering the lyrics as you went.

You hadn’t sung anything in weeks and now you just couldn’t stop. It felt good. You went over your favorites altering lyrics and making up new verses, not wanting the song to end. As you sang you thought about mum and home. In the outside world they were forbidden things, because they made it hard to focus on surviving. But here she had all the time in the world to think. After hours and hours she finally laid down on the mattress and drifted to sleep

Tony had just started his shift watching you through the monitor and you were having a nightmare. You were curled up in a ball and whimpered and muttered quietly, as tears ran down your face. You dug your nails into your back and started scratching leaving bloody red marks behind. Then you started screaming. The sound echoed through the halls, but Tony didn’t know what to do, so he ended up doing nothing, just staring at the screen paralyzed. It went on for a while, until you finally flinched so violently you woke up.

You were in a state of panic, but as you realized where you were it started to wear off. Little by little you started to feel the pain from the bloody scratch marks on your back and arms. You examined your injuries to the best of your abilities and then looked at the floor while talking sheepishly at the camera in the corner of the room: “If you don’t mind I’d like to have something to wrap these cuts with. I might also need some help with the ones in my back. Its not a big deal, but I don’t want them to get infected.”

The screaming had woken up Natasha and Steve who were now standing behind Tony, looking at the screen over his shoulders. Tony cleared his throat before turning around in his chair and facing the other two. They both had their arms crossed on their chest. Steve looked surprised as hell, but Natasha was quick to recover. She threw Tony an icy stare before saying: “Should we think the imprisonment over again, or is she still too dangerous for you to handle?” Tony raised his hands before saying: “Let’s think that over in the morning, when the whole team is up. Now, would you mind going to help her with the injuries?” Natasha threw Tony another dirty look, before grabbing the first aid kit and heading to your cell.

Nat came, and you laid on the bed on your stomach. She lifted your shirt, poured antiseptic solution on a cloth and warned you: “I’m sorry, but this is gonna hurt like a bitch.” She pressed the cloth gently on your back and you shrug. “It’s not that bad. You get used to pain as a homeless kid. Once I had to remove a bullet from my own shoulder.” There Nat saw an opportunity get little bit more information of you and continued the conversation: “Must be tough. I suppose you don’t have any family left?” “Yeah, mum and dad and Tom died… in an accident” you tensed up visibly. Nat continued unbothered but didn’t bring up the deaths again. “I heard you sing the other day. Didn’t know you were finnish.” “Oh, I’m not. My mom was.” “So, can you speak finnish or what?” “Nah, not anymore anyways. I used to, but I haven’t used it in a long time. Some things just stuck with me, like the songs, or silly pet names mum used to call us.” For some reason you felt really safe with Natasha. Her touch reminded you of home as she worked to clean your wounds and then wrap them with clean gauze. You knew it was silly, but it just felt so good to finally talk to someone, so you kept answering her as she continued asking questions. “Pet names, huh. What did she call you?” “She used to call me Lumikki. It’s the finnish for snow white. It’s cheesy as hell, I know but we lived in a little cottage in the woods, and I was obsessed with Disney.” Natasha smiled at you. “Do you remember anything else about your mum.” “She had the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. She sounded like an angel. Sometimes I hear her in the wind.” You pause for a minute “And she was a dancer. She used to be a ballerina, but then she had us and her career ended. She never quit dancing though. Once in a while she’d put on her slippers and go through some old routine, like she had never stopped. She even taught me some basics.” Natasha was quiet for a moment. Then she cleared her throat and continued: “Did you have any siblings?” “Yeah”, you were quiet for a moment, not rushing to continue “One brother. His name was Tuomas, but we all called him Tom. Three years older than me. He was my best friend.” A tear fell down your cheek. Natasha was almost done with wrapping your back so she asked one more question. “How about your dad” You shrugged. “He was a hunter. Spent most of his time with Tom out in the forest when I stayed in with mum.” Nat packed the medical supplies back to the first aid kit and pulled your shirt down so that it covered your back. Then she helped you sit up and said: “I can’t promise anything yet, but we’re having another meeting with the team about your… condition and I believe you might get out of here.” She saw the unsure look you gave her. “Don’t worry” she said as she took your hand “Everything will be alright. I promise”

--

Sorry, I have absolutely no idea what is going on with the spacing, tried to fix it but it wont budge... Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter!

[hella1975]

one shot where zuko knows how to play a fire nation instrument and the swt wants to hear him play and he plays a song his mother taught him

i love this idea! this takes place in between ch14 and ch15, aka Just Before Everything Went To Shit :)

final word count: 1.5k words

“I have something but first I need an emotional declaration from you.” Tomkin said suddenly, and Zuko peered over his shoulder with a frown to see the other boy approaching him, grinning evilly, Nanook at his side looking just as incriminating.

“An emotional declaration of what?” Zuko asked, suspicious. Nothing good ever came of Tomkin and Nanook scheming like this. He'd only gone outside for a breath of fresh air. They’d left Weihai yesterday, sailing towards Gaoling where Hakoda planned for them to make camp properly for a while. Zuko couldn’t help how much he was looking forward to it. All the ice and sailing made him claustrophobic and for once he just wanted to feel real, normal land beneath his feet. The thought of it had grated at him as he tried to sleep that night, and suddenly, the infirmary felt far too small, the air far too sharp. He knew a few of the warriors were sat outside on deck, chatting into the night and laughing loudly every now and then, but strangely, that wasn’t something that dissuaded Zuko anymore. He felt safe around them, and when something felt wrong, he almost felt... drawn to them.

So he’d sat silently with them up on deck, pretending to listen to whatever ridiculous story Chena was telling, and no one commented on it, and Zuko could just breathe.

Until Tomkin and Nanook showed up, that is.

“You have to say that I’m your best friend over Nanook, otherwise I can’t give it you.” Tomkin said seriously, and Nanook shoved his shoulder.

“Hey,” he hissed, “that’s not what we agreed.”

“No? What did we agree?”

“What is this even about?” Zuko asked, exasperated, but there was a hint of fondness there, and he didn’t hate himself for it. He'd been with the Water Tribe for over three weeks now, and they’d all been through so much together. Zuko had grown, and hurt, and healed, and he... he thought he might be happy here. He thought that maybe he could stay, even if it was only a childish daydream.

Tomkin grinned then, before pulling something large and wooden from behind his back with an excited ‘ta-da!’.

Tulok cocked his head curiously. “Is that a tautirut?”

“That’s what I thought when I first saw it,” Nanook said, looking at the object with a smile, “but the salesman said it’s a pipa. It's Fire Nation!”

Zuko didn’t miss Chena’s mumbled ‘why the fuck-’ cut off by Aput’s elbow in his gut, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the object in Tomkin’s hand. It was an instrument, about the size of an arm, a deep wooden brown and with strings over an oval middle, and it was so achingly familiar that Zuko felt his heart sink.

It was a Fire Nation instrument on a Water Tribe ship, and that should have been enough to make Zuko feel this way. Nanook probably bought it in Weihai yesterday, maybe while Zuko was suffering through that horrifically awkward conversation with Chena. For such an instrument to even be sold in the Earth Kingdom... Zuko wished it was uncommon, but he’d seen it a lot while on the Erlong. Fire Nation ships would sink, and belongings would wash up on foreign shores, memories of crewmen who once held music nights. The pipa in Nanook’s hand had been cleaned and refurbished; someone had loved it, even after pulling it from a wreckage. It should have been enough. It should have been the only reason Zuko felt this way.

But his heart was tugging in his chest, and there was more to this than a reminder of the bloody war they sailed through.

Zuko remembered his mother, years and years ago. She had loved music, teaching Zuko easy beats on djembe drums and humming lullabies when he woke to nightmares. This memory was sunkissed, a large room of smooth stone and floor to ceiling windows that drenched every inch of the place with golden light. The room used to be used for parties, dances, but it had hardly been touched since the war started. And one day, Zuko couldn’t have been older than five or six, and Azula was a toddler who still held his hand when she walked, Mother took them to the room of sunshine.

“Come on, Zuko.” Mother had smiled at him softly, and she looked so carefree, a little out of place with the fogginess of the memory. She walked them to a corner of the room where the floor rose into a platform, instruments sat discarded and so fascinating to young fingers. Azula had giggled, reaching for a pipa that Mother quickly plucked out of her grip before she could start pulling the strings apart.

“Can you play it?” Zuko asked, looking at his mother with wide eyes. She was looking at the instrument in her hands fondly, deep in thought. She did this from time to time. This was something Zuko remembered clearly. Mother disappeared sometimes, deep into her mind, into her memories, thinking of moments of her past before it was all snatched from her.

“Hmm, well,” she said, flashing a mischievous grin as she swept aside her long robes in order to sit on the platform step, “let’s see shall we.”

And then she began to play, a fast tune, fingers moving quickly and creating a beautiful melody, and Azula clapped happily as the music filled the room. It made Zuko want to tap his foot along to it, to smile, to move, but that wasn’t proper, and Father had yelled at him only a few days ago for fidgeting too much at dinner.

Mother gave Zuko a reassuring smile, understanding, before turning to one of the servants that were never far. She said something quietly to them, something Zuko couldn’t remember, and the memory faded out of focus here, before sharpening when the music started again, this time his mother stood with him. She picked Azula up, cradling her against her, and Azula smiled happily, small hands framing Mother’s face. Azula used to love being held like that.

“Prince Zuko,” Mother turned to Zuko, grinning as she moved Azula’s weight to be able to hold out a hand to Zuko, “will you dance with me?”

It felt stupid and immature and Zuko said so much, but the music was so lively and Mother looked so happy, and Azula began to laugh when Mother swayed her, and Zuko couldn’t remember taking Mother’s hand, but the next thing he remembered was spinning with her around the room, a grin on his lips and something light in his chest.

Zuko had forgotten that, until now.

“Can you play it?” Tomkin asked eagerly, and Zuko shuffled awkwardly. His mother had taught him a few basic tunes, but Father said Zuko was too disappointing at firebending to be wasting his free time on such frivolous pursuits. Zuko had always loved the instrument though, even after Mother left.

“No.” Zuko said apologetically, because he wasn’t about to find out if he remembered how to play in front of everyone.

“Liar.” Kanut said breezily, not even looking up from the book he was reading when Zuko glared at him. It was dark out; how was Kanut even reading anyway?

“Tui and La, you can play!” Tomkin beamed when he saw the way Zuko was gradually flushing.

“Play something for us!” Nanook joined in.

“Just one song.” Hakoda goaded with a knowing look.

“Come on, brat.” Even Chena was grinning evilly now, and Zuko mentally cursed them all, which wasn’t at all effective, because the next thing he knew, a chant of ‘Zuko! Zuko! Zuko!’ filled the deck as everyone else joined in on causing him misery.

“Alright!” Zuko snapped after a few seconds. “Fine. One song, and then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the night.”

“No deal. Here.” Tomkin said, handing the pipa to Zuko, and Zuko glared murderously at the other boy before sighing, taking the instrument. He was such an Agni-damned pushover.

It was a familiar weight in his hands, despite all these years, and the pads of his fingers remembered the firmness of the strings, the tune each was supposed to make. Zuko forced himself to ignore the way everyone was staring at him, instead focussing on what he could remember. There was one song he’d always liked, one he had once been able to play from muscle memory alone. He wondered...

His fingers began to move and the silence was broken by the soothing sound of a lullaby. It was slow, soft, and it melted against the sound of waves caressing the ship, stars twinkling down above them as if they were leaning in to listen. Zuko chanced a look up, blushing as he continued to play, and saw Tomkin and Nanook looking at him with soft expressions, eyes warm. The song was one for children, to calm them, and between each pluck of a string, it sung of family, of belonging, of love. Zuko had never truly understood how that was supposed to work; how could a simple song convey something like that?

But that night beneath the stars, listening to a soft melody as they drifted through the ocean, Zuko understood.

[moontheoretist]

You know. I have this unique approach to “Tony was selling weapons” issue in which I know it was a legal business and in America it was basically seen as a-ok thing to do, because military propaganda is strong and Tony was basically raised not only in that propaganda, but also in a family which fortune was build on selling those very weapons. On the other hand, I also know that regardless of how legal it is, it was also a war profiteering business which destroyed lives. And on a third hand, because to me Tony is coded as an autistic person with ADHD, I can see how he had issues for so many years to see that the system is broken and cannot be trusted.

Let me explain.

You may call it an excuse or projecting, but when I was younger, I couldn’t process that things I was taught about at school don’t actually work as the textbook claims it does in real life. Meaning that when a paper page in my school book said or a teacher said or someone from my family or anybody who was an authority to me said that democracy is the best system ever and has no flaws, I did believe it and never questioned it. To start questioning it, I needed an outside force to knock the idea that the system is indeed broken into my brain, hard. It’s really hard to accept that the world around you doesn’t work the way you thought it was working on paper, and therefore we as humans tend to delude ourselves that if we cannot see it happen, then it doesn’t exist (though in my case the delusion wasn’t even conscious enough that I could say I was deluding myself, I just was unable to see any issues till they were shoved in my face). So only when we see, and sometimes personally feel that happen to us, we are finally able to let go of that delusion and open our eyes.

Press Reporter #1: Mr. Stark, what happened over there?

Stark: I had my eyes opened.

So to me, the whole Afghanistan incident is this to Tony. To me, it feels logical that he would not be able to compute that weapons are bad and selling them is bad if he was all his life taught that weapons are good and that he helps people by selling them until he was personally smacked with them in the face, because sometimes people saying things to your face (like media, specifically Christine Everheart definitely were doing) is not enough to truly realize something (I also think that Howard and Stane taught Tony how to ignore all the media and what they say to him when he was groomed as SI’s heir, so it didn’t have that much of an effect on him before Afghanistan as it does after it), and you need that smack instead.

It’s a very strong incentive which shakes your whole world, and it is strong enough to make our stubborn autistic brains (mine and Tony’s, I don’t want to insinuate that all autistic people have this issue) to start questioning the status quo.

So, when Tony gets hit by his own weapon and feels on his own skin what it does, sees terrorists use his weapons to target American military (young soldiers who were there mostly because American system is broken and exploits the young, so they would join) and kill them, then has to live with a shrapnel in the cave, learns that Ho Yinsen’s family was also killed by his own weapons, and then when he is free again and continues to live with the shrapnel and sees innocent people in Middle East losing loved ones, it finally starts to compute that weapons are bad, that everything he did till now was bad, that he is the one responsible for this suffering and that his weapons shouldn’t be given to people who cannot be trusted with them (i.e. his own company, America and American military).

It is also in character for him to assume, that if he is the one whose eyes were opened, he should be the one using his own weapons (i.e. Iron Man, which doubles for prostetic too) for good, though it was not his first thought (you remember when he went to Air Force base to talk to Rhodey? It is possible he wanted Rhodey to be his Iron Man pilot instead and when he was rejected and saw that Rhodey believes in the system he doesn’t, he had to take it upon himself, because in his head he was the only one who saw it was wrong).

I think that if Wanda was actually done right (meaning that if Joss Whedon was not antislavic piece of shit and her trauma and suffering were properly represented in AoU instead of being sold as just a low bar villain motivation), the thing which happened to her family when Tony was already a CEO and probably approved of selling the weapons to the military shortly before or long before NATO used them in Yugoslavia to bomb tons of civilians (I am of the mind that military could use the weapons they bought from Tony’s company long ago, and that it didn’t have to specifically be a new contract crafted just to deal with the Slobodan Milošević issue), it would only reinforce the idea that weapons are bad in Tony’s head.

I think that as much as he is not to blame for Wanda’s parents deaths, because he didn’t fire those weapons himself (and possibly was not even that much interested in the conflicts abroad the American army used his weapons for, because he assumed they will use them responsibly, only against enemy soldiers and will not use them on civilians - this is an error born from assuming that war is just and only happens on the battlefield, while a lot of countries since I dunno even how long literally doesn’t adhere to the rules of war (that you can only fight on battlefields with no civilians in sight) and fights wherever they want, not caring about civilians and sometimes even purposefully drop weapons on them like NATO did in Yugoslavia, committing war crimes left and right, making war unjust), I think he bears some responsibility for what happened and has a right to feel guilty over the deaths which happened due to those bombings.

And later on, when he finally switches and does mostly defensive stuff, like making a technology which can remove mines from minefields without any of them exploding, or when he makes his company pursue clean energy instead, and he joins the Avengers, because he truly believes they are good for the world, he is again smacked in the face by the fact that something in which he believed was not good, that it was doing more harm than good. That’s why, in my opinion, he reacted to Mrs. Spencer’s accusations. Because he again let himself believe in something indiscriminately, without doubt, and was again smacked in the face with facts. And the facts were that Avengers were not operating well, and their recklessness and half-cooked last minute plans were the reason why more people died than it would if they actually worked well as superheroes.

To a lot of people, it looks like Tony is motivated by personal hurt and guilt. But to me, it always looks like him being violently shaken into acknowledging reality of something he thought was flawless.

[five-rivers]

Changeling Chapter 1

A DP Fae Au fic. I've been promising you this for so long XD. I can hardly believe I'm finally delivering, even if it's only one chapter for now.

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Chapter 1: In the Beginning, There Was an Offer

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They studied legends. According to those legends, today, Beltane, was a time of renewal, of birth, of fertility.

It was not supposed to be… this. Their dreams weren’t supposed to be crushed today. Not under this sun, not under these blue skies and among softly blooming flowers.

This kind of news should have come with rain. It should have come with storms.

Maddie wiped tears out of her eyes and Jack patted her on the back. The air smelled sweet and dusty at the same time. The bench was uncomfortable.

“We could try adoption,” said Jack. He sounded shocked, too. Drained. His voice was pulled taught over a great hollowness. “Lots of people adopt. We can- can do some good in the world, maybe.”

Maddie sniffed and cried harder. She’d wanted her own children, and Jack knew it. Adoption was all very well and good, but at this point the suggestion felt like some consolation prize, and she felt terrible for even thinking it was, because Jack was right, it could be a good thing, and…

She wanted children. Her own children.

“Excuse me, I believe I can help.”

There was something about how he said that, about how the voice wound and slipped through her ears that had Maddie’s head snapping up. The man who stood to the side of the bench wore a long coat with a deep hood. Symbols, symbols that Maddie had spent hours, days, weeks, researching were stitched into the fabric. His eyes glittered in the shadows. The fingers of his hands, clasped in front of him, were too long, their coloring faintly lavender, as if they had been dipped in ink and retained the stain even after they’d been washed clean.

This was not a human.

“How?” asked Maddie, feeling hope drip back into her limbs even as Jack tensed behind her. “How can you help?”

.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” said Jack as they drove home. “We really shouldn’t have done that. Maddie, they’re evil, there’s always a catch and it’ll always be looking for a way to push us into it.”

“The catch is in the open,” said Maddie, leaning back against the seat of the car and closing her eyes. “It isn’t as if it’s in the fine print and we’re going to stumble into it. We have one, and then I get my tubes tied, or you get snipped, and we go on with our lives.”

“What if we have twins? Triplets? Maddie, we should have talked about this.”

“There wasn’t any time,” Maddie said defensively. “I had to decide right away.”

“What are we going to do if we have twins, Maddie?”

Maddie bit her lip, her eyes opening without her full permission as she thought. “We know how to deal with things like him.”

The car jerked just a little to the right as Jack failed to suppress his flinch. “Do you remember our work on motivations? On why they take artists, musicians, children?” he asked. He forged on without waiting for an answer. “Creative sterility, we called it. For this one to be able to cure sterility, he has to be powerful. I don’t think nails in pockets and inside-out clothing is going to stop him.”

Such protections were hit and miss to begin with. One faerie might hate bread, another might love it. The sound of bells would drive off one, and another would wear them in their hair. Even cold iron was no guarantee against them.

“We’ll have to find something better, then,” she said, firmly.

.

Maddie laughed. Not a twin. A single child showed on the ultrasound monitor. A girl. A beautiful baby girl. Perfect.

On the other side of the bed, Jack sunk into a chair, obviously relieved. “She’s healthy?” he asked the OB/GYN.

“Completely,” she said. “This is quite the miracle the two of you put together here.” She shook her head. “We must have gotten something wrong during our examination. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am to have put you through all that, and I won’t blame you if you wanted to find a new doctor.”

“It’s fine,” said Maddie, patting the woman’s arm. “It happens.” Yes, being approached by a powerful fae just ‘happened.’ “The important thing now is to make sure there aren’t any complications.”

.

They made sure Jazz was born on a Sunday, with two middle names, one of which Maddie made sure to forget. They scheduled her baptism for as early a date as possible, even though both Jack and Maddie were as lapsed as it was possible to be.

Precautions.

Jack had his surgery only a month later.

They were safe. They had won.

The family of three snuggled together on the couch. Well, Jazz snuggled inasmuch as a newborn was able. They watched TV.

“Jack, dear,” said Maddie, roused to awareness by a news story about a rising young businessman. “Is that our Vlad?”

Jack blinked at the screen. “I think you’re right,” said Jack. “I haven’t seen him since college. I don’t think we’ve talked to him since college.” He frowned. “Did something happen? The three of us used to be so close… He was the only one in the whole folklore department that would put up with our theories, do you remember?”

“I don’t know,” said Maddie, trying to remember. “It was like he was there one day, gone the next.”

“Do you think he’ll mind us getting back in touch?”

“Only one way to find out.”

.

(As it turned out, Vlad did not particularly care to get back in touch.)

.

Jazz was not a normal child.

She saw too much. She understood too much. Her teeth grew in early. She learned how to get the milk out of the fridge at about the same time she learned how to walk. Her eyes were too large, even for her age. She didn’t start talking until she was almost two, and when she did, it was in complete sentences. She took to responsibility like a duck to water. No, she demanded responsibility, from waking up the family in the morning to answering the door. She loved rules and games, and the rules of games.

But they had never raised a child before. Perhaps this was simply how they were. Perhaps this was within the expected variety of humanity.

Most importantly, Jazz was theirs. Completely.

.

Maddie was not terribly concerned when her period missed a few days, or even when it was late by a week. But when it started pushing two…

She bought a test.

It came back positive.

.

Danny’s birth was different from Jazz’s in almost every particular. Instead of being infused with a sense of joy, proceedings were overshadowed by dread. Jazz had been born in a hospital. Danny would be born at home, behind every ward and protection Jack and Maddie could conceive of. The midwife they hired was more than used to odd belief systems and threw a few of her own traditions in as well.

It couldn’t hurt.

.

It didn’t help.

After the birth, Maddie held Danny in her arms. He’d been born in a caul, which had been slightly alarming, even though Maddie had known that it was a thing that happened regularly, and that, by most accounts, it was lucky.

He was such a tiny little thing. Smaller than Jazz. Which made sense, he was a little premature.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she promised him, whispering into the silky, wispy curls on top of his head.

Someone knocked on the door. Maddie jerked her head up, even though the front door wasn’t at all visible from the basement. Jack flinched hard enough to drop the towels he was holding. The midwife froze.

“Hospitality,” croaked Maddie. Those rules were always humanity’s first defense against the uncanny. Don’t want something in your house? In your life? Don’t invite it in.

Although, she had arguably already invited in the fae they were worried about. Hence all the other contingencies.

The knock came again. And again, louder.

Jack let out a sigh of relief. “It can’t get in,” he murmured. Then he smiled, broad and bright. “We just have to wait it out.”

Maddie nodded, tears in her eyes. The knocking continued. This was far from ideal, obviously, but she’d been half expecting the fae to simply rip through the wards like tissue paper.

Perhaps the theory that more powerful fae were more bound by custom, more vulnerable to their weaknesses, held water? She and Jack had always dismissed it as fanciful, but they’d never been able to gather evidence before.

Then, a sound that made her heart stop.

“I’ll get it!” called Jazz, childish voice muffled by distance and the obstacle of the floors above. She’d been told not to answer the door when Danny was being born, to wait patiently in her room, but for all her unusual maturity, she was only three.

Faster than she’d ever seen him move, Jack bolted for the stairs, pushing aside several pieces of furniture and medical equipment in his haste. He took the stairs four at a time and nearly taking the door off the hinges.

He wasn’t fast enough.

“Who are you, mister?”

“Me?” said a voice Maddie had prayed against ever hearing again. “I am your uncle, my dear. Did your parents not tell you about me?”

.

Jazz tipped her head to one side and stared up at the man, making her eyes extra big. She knew it made a lot of people uncomfortable when she looked at them like that, so she treated it as a kind of test.

The man smiled, kind and patient. He was kind of funny looking, but in a good way.

“No,” she said finally. “Are you Mommy’s brother or Daddy’s brother?”

“Ah, you already know about uncles, then. I was worried I’d have to explain. May I come in? I would like to greet your little brother, as your parents promised I could. I have gifts for both of you.”

Jazz liked gifts. “Okay,” she said. “But I dunno if Danny’s been born yet. Mommy said it can take a while. And I dunno if he can have gifts, yet. He’s gonna be really little. That’s what all my books say, and also the internet.”

“Jazz! Don’t!”

Jazz turned to see her Daddy skid around the corner, just as her uncle stepped across the threshold.

“Not quite on time, I fear,” said uncle. “Young Jazz has already let me in.” He patted Jazz on the head. She ducked away and stuck her tongue out, like she always did when Daddy did that. “Having greeted my niece, I would like to see my nephew.”

.

The fae did walk past the rest of the wards as if they weren’t even there. It didn’t even break them, just ignored them. Some of them he even commented on, as if approving.

He gazed down at Danny with his otherworldly eyes. The midwife had retreated to the corner of the room, refusing to look at what was happening. Jack had attempted to attack the fae with his bare hands, only to be pushed away with something approaching gentleness by an invisible wall. Maddie didn’t know where Jazz was. Upstairs, somewhere, hopefully.

“So beautiful,” the fae said, brushing Danny’s forehead with his off-color fingers. Faster than Maddie could react, he had a pair of scissors in his hand and was cutting off a lock of hair. “A lovely child.” The lock of Danny’s hair disappeared into the fae’s coat.

If Maddie didn’t know better, she’d call the expression on the fae’s face love. But she did know better. Love was as incomprehensible to the fae as fae laws were to humans, so she’d call it by its true name: avarice.

She tightened her grip on Danny, as if she could keep the fae from plucking him from her arms.

“Not now,” said the fae, after another moment. “Soon, I should think.” It ran a hand over Danny’s head. “Soon.” The fae looked up, meeting Maddie’s eyes. “I will return,” he said, “in one year.”

“For what?” demanded Maddie, unwilling to get her hopes up.

The fae blinked slowly. “For his birthday.” He tilted his head. “To determine whether or not he is ready. Perhaps, also, to visit my niece.”

“You stay away from Jazz!” snarled Maddie. “You have no claim on her.”

The fae merely shrugged, then smiled, slyly. “She does, however, have a claim on me. I promised her gifts, before your husband whisked her away.”

“Gifts,” repeated Maddie, hoarsely.

“For the sister of my child, yes,” said the fae, voice and face as calm and even as ever. “Would you ask me to forswear myself?”

“Then,” said Maddie, “you can leave them here, with us.”

“You will give them to her?”

“Yes,” said Maddie, through her teeth. She did not say how long she would let Jazz be in the presence of these ‘gifts.’

“Very well, then,” said the fae, pulling a number of boxes out from beneath his coat. “One year. Be prepared.”

And, with that, the fae faded from view, as if he had been an illusion all along.

Danny was still with them. Their son was still with them. Still theirs.

“One year,” she said, breathless. “Only one year.”

“One whole year,” corrected Jack, rushing to her side. “You’ll see, Maddie. Next time, that fae won’t know what hit him!”

“One whole year,” echoed Maddie, weakly.

“One year to prepare,” said Jack. “Look what we did with half that time! We’re Fentons! We can do it!”

“We can do it,” breathed Maddie. “One year. We’ll be ready.”

Jack nodded, firmly. “We’ll be ready.”

[melliflovs]

Personal Punching Bag - Gojo x Reader

Word Count: 1,627

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Sweaty!Gojo, Oral, Teacher Student relationship, slight daddy kink, aftercare, Sexual tension whew

Summary: Gojo meets you in the gym for a surprise session, except this one ends a bit differently ;)

A/N: This is part two, part one is on my masterlist! This is my first time writing smut so I hope you enjoy!

My requests are open!

It'd been a week since you'd seen Gojo outside of class. He'd made no mention of your gym session since it happened or any indication that he'd meant to follow up on his empty suggestion of "We should do this again sometime"

Admittedly it'd left you deflated. You'd found yourself distracted in class, daydreaming of his eyes under the blindfold and how they looked even prettier than the blue sky on a clear day. Instead of focusing on your studies, you were zoning out and your time spent in the gym after classes just left you frustrated and yearning for more.

You knew deep down you liked more than just his eyes, Gojo had given you more than enough to think of at night when you were alone in your dorm. The image of him shirtless and glistening in sweat permanently ingrained in your mind. Hormonal schoolgirl fantasies running wild.

It was so unlike you, you hadn't checked but you could tell your grades were slipping and your reflexes weren't as sharp as they used to be. In the event that you were sent on a mission, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold your own or if you'd have to rely on Yuji and Megumi for your safety. The thought of being defenseless against curses frustrated you. You were supposed to be better than that and you felt like you were letting yourself and others down.

Today you walked to the gym by yourself, you'd grown distant to your friends lately. Your head too far up in the clouds to handle any conversation. You opened the door, a glimmer of hope in your eyes before it inevitably faded.

He wasn't there. Again.

With a sigh you took off your shoes, stepping onto the plush mat, and approaching your usual punching bag. The bright red canvas seemed to taunt you as you got into the stance that your sensei taught you not long ago.

You swung and hit the bag weakly, the dull thud reaching your ears and making you groan in annoyance. Abandoning your stance you let hell rain down on the punching bag. Swing after swing battered the equipment.

"You know I'm probably a better sparring partner than that bag."

His voice made your heart sing, your fist pausing mid-air when you heard it. Shaking your head you brushed the stupid feeling off. Internally scolding yourself. You don't have time for this.

"Why are you here, Sensei." You were clearly annoyed, your tone laced with irritation.

Gojo simply didn't care, "I thought we discussed that. Calling me Sensei outside of class." He was teasing, you could tell but you were tired. Your muscles beginning to ache from your pitiful workout.

"Fine," You spit. "What are you doing here, Gojo."

"You're clearly frustrated," He mused "Why don't you take it out on me" Without a second thought you turned and swung at him. Fist flying faster than he'd anticipated. Even though it caught him off guard at first, he recovered quickly and caught your fist, holding it in his own.

For a moment you both stilled, it was the first time you'd made eye contact in a while. His blindfold was already removed and you momentarily felt lost. With a smirk, he snapped you out of your daze by pulling you forward by your hand.

Tripping over your own feet you fell into his chest with a soft thud. He felt warm and smelled like honey and freshly washed laundry. You felt a laugh rumble through him as he spoke, "Don't get too comfortable, we haven't even begun."

Before you had a chance to question what he'd meant he used his other hand to tilt your head up to kiss you. It started off slow at first, lips melting together as it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You'd wanted this so badly, but you'd also wanted more.

You became greedy, slipping your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, and pulling him closer. Gojo bent down to respond to your advances, tearing himself away from you for a moment to trail his lips down your neck.

He began sucking and biting lightly with his mouth, trailing lower as you pressed up against him. The grey sweatpants he wore to the gym left little to the imagination but what you felt against you was no dream.

You reached down to his bulge, clearly growing bigger the farther the two of you went. Your breathing grew heavy as you palmed him through his sweats. "S-Sensei"

"No." He growled out between sloppy kisses, his hands moving to your breasts. "Say my name, (y/n). Say it."

"Gojo" You moaned as his inquisitive fingers slipped under your bra and began to play with your nipples, the action sending small shocks to your core.

"I- I wanna make you feel good, Gojo." You whispered in between small pants as his hands continued to shamelessly roam your body. Your workout had already left you feeling sweaty but his actions were making your blood pressure rise. His hands relented and you took it as you greenlight.

Sinking down to your knees, you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes becoming clouded with lust. In one swift motion, you pulled down his sweats. To your surprise he'd gone commando, the soft look of shock on your face made him smirk. His blue eyes darkening as he watched his cock spring forward towards your beautiful face.

He'd never have admitted it but he'd imagined this very moment multiple times over the past week, hands moving over his own length late at night with your name on his lips.

Slowly you took him in your hand, slowly pumping him as you wet your lips. Your tongue flicked out towards his tip, the smallest of touches made Gojo moan softly, spurring you on. You wrapped your tongue around him. Slowly beginning to inch your way down his impressive length.

His hands found their way into your hair, petting you softly as you worked and keeping it out of your face. Gojo looked down on you with adoration, stroking your cheek softly as held back a moan.

"You're doing so well, baby." He praised, "Making your daddy, feel so good."

The name made your eyes widen and your thighs clench, you looked up at him as you took him all into your mouth. Your hand gripping his leg for stability.

You felt drool escape your mouth as you bobbed your head, listening to breath hitch as you looked up into his eyes. You moaned around him, feeling yourself growing even wetter.

Gojo tapped your cheek lightly, prompting you to stop your movements. You released him with a pop, his cock even harder than before as he pulls you up off the floor. "I want to be inside you, Baby. Wanna feel you come around me."

You moaned softly at the idea, quickly turning into a mess. He picked you up by your waist, wrapping your legs around him. As he walked you could feel him rubbing against your clothed heat, bringing you to the wall. He set you down for a moment, reaching down to drag down your yoga pants and squeezing your ass before lifting you again.

Hoisting you up he buried his face in your neck, your hair sticking to your skin with sweat. You felt like your nerves were on fire. Every little ministration going straight to your bundle of nerves that begged to be touched. Gojo started kissing your neck as his thumb moved your panties to the side, exposing yourself to him.

His fingers toyed with your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before slowly circling the bud. He could feel you tense up under him, your thighs tightening around his waist as you involuntarily pulled him closer, his cock rubbing against you.

Slowly he entered you with a hiss. Your warmth enveloping him as he started to thrust at a brutal pace. You were both so pent up, the thought of release taking over as you began rutting against each other. Gojo whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how tight you are and how good you've been for daddy as you moan uncontrollably.

It felt as though as much time had passed but simultaneously not enough. You wanted to be lost in him forever.

You could feel him hitting against your cervix, you felt so full, so fulfilled after yearning for a week of your dreamy-eyed Sensei.

Gojo.

You could scream it from the rooftops until your lungs ached. So you did, the sound filling the gym and no doubt the surrounding hallways, but you didn't care. The feeling of him rutting against you and setting your skin ablaze took away all reason, your chants only making him go deeper and faster. His finger found his way back to your clit as you continued to edge closer to your end. Beginning to lightly shake from the exhaustion and pleasure.

"Let go, (y/n). Come around my cock."

His words set you over the edge, your body tensing again as you moaned his name lewdly. All you could think about was how good you felt stretched around him.

Gojo came shortly after finishing inside you and riding out your highs. Slowly he slipped out of you, his hair covering his face as he pushed yours to the side, giving your forehead a kiss. Carefully he lowered you to the ground, letting you rest as he walked to his gym bag that you'd long forgotten and grabbed a small towel. Carefully he cleaned you up then sat back down beside you.

Wrapping his arm around you he smiled softly "I'll be your personal punching bag anytime."

Temporarily accepting people for a jjk taglist, just comment on this post to be added!

Tag List: @foxerj12

[paellaplease]

Hi, I see you're taking requests! If it hasn't been done yet, could you do aspectabund with Revali please? I love your writing <3

2. aspectabund - letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

pairing: revali x reader

summary:  he knows you’ve been avoiding him and he can’t seem to figure out why.

  Shaking the snow from his feathers, Revali surveyed the layered red rock of Mount Agaat with a scrutinizing gleam in his eyes. The reconnaissance flyby over the ice covered peaks had proven successful, with him safely scouting out several bokoblin camps under the cover of cloud. 

Mindful of the tripwire, he entered the makeshift campsite to find you and the Gerudo Chief conversing quietly by the fire. You appeared in deep contemplation, and out of respect (and perhaps partial curiosity) he made no move to announce his arrival. 

Urbosa crossed her arms, turning to you with a sly smile adorning her lip. “You can’t keep dancing around each other forever.” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, fiddling with one of your winter gloves. “It’s highly likely he won’t understand anyway.” 

“I’m sure his feelings on the matter are not as dissimilar as you think. Besides...” She leaned forward, whispering something into your ear. 

Warmth creeping up to your cheeks, your face was in your hands in an instant, body leaning forward as Urbosa let out a short laugh at your exaggerated reaction. Cute.

The mortified groan you gave in response made him chuckle, finally alerting you both to his presence. 

The Gerudo Chief angled her head and gave a brief nod in his direction, most likely having sensed his presence ages ago. In stark contrast, you quickly spun in your seat, mouth agape. 

Nearly falling from the log, Urbosa reached out to snag the hood of your coat, saving your face from smashing into the dirt ground. Revali tsked, you should really be more aware of your surroundings. 

"Revali!” Immediately, you bit down on your lip, schooling your face into something more subdued. “Welcome back." 

Tilting his head, he found it odd how difficult it was for you to maintain eye contact. Your cheeks were darker at this point, the tip of your nose slightly red. His wings itched to readjust the scarf wrapped loosely around your neck. Perhaps you were cold. That won’t do. 

"Did I miss anything?" He asked, looking pointedly at Urbosa. 

He would never admit it but the Chief maintained a steadfast poker face. “I have nothing to share.” Standing up, she moved to add more kindling to the fire. “No monster has dared approach us yet.”

Judging by the impressive blades hanging from both your hips, he wasn’t surprised. Rubbing at his shoulders, he swiped a wing over the rocky expanse before them. “Good. And thanks to me, we now have a greater chance of avoiding them on the way up.”

He didn’t miss the way your body froze when Urbosa offered for him to take her seat. Not seeing any issue and assuming it to be a response to the cold of the mountain, he acquiesced. 

The mission was completed without a hitch, the swing of your blade delivering the killing blow to the fierce lynel that guarded the peak of the mountains. Revali tried not to stare as you cleaned your blade on the snow, ignoring the errant beat of his heart as you turned to smile at him, skin still flushed from the heat of battle. 

“It comes to no surprise that you are the Gerudo Chief’s apprentice.” He nodded, unable to hide the hint of admiration in his voice.

Tugging at the sleeves of your flowing blue jacket, your eyes were wide and shining, mouth close to admitting something profound and important. Revali kept his beak shut, waiting for you to say what you needed, disappointed when all it came to be was a simple “Thanks.” 

You then proceeded not to speak to him for the rest of the week. 

It was a shame really, you were one of the few allies he could stand for more than five minutes. The Rito thought you were diligent; a fighter that could tame a tempest, and most of all a worthy opponent when it came to the odd verbal sparring match. 

Never had you shied away from a challenge, especially one posed by him. He was invested in your progress, secretly standing guard on the nights you would sneak out to train, ensuring that no person nor creature would disturb you. What's worse, a part of him honestly thought that you had begun to consider him as something close to a friend. 

And now...

“I’ll scout the area!” 

Revali sighed as he watched your retreating form once again, the remaining Champions looking at each other with equal confusion at your sudden disappearance into the forest. He didn’t know what your problem was, and honestly one more day of these mixed messages was going to drive him insane. 

Slipping past him like water, you evaded him at all costs. Taking your meals alone or with different people, changing the location of your training sessions, waking up unbearably early or extremely late. 

Then, on day eight of this madness, he found you sparring with a particular golden-haired knight that he couldn’t stand. That was the last straw. 

“Fight me,” he said to you, uncaring of the other knights on the training field that stopped to stare at him approaching. The sword in his wing, though blunted, felt foreign and heavy. Long has it been since he last held a blade like this. 

Taking off your helmet, you rubbed at your eyes to see if it was truly him. “Revali?” Funny, that was the first thing you’d said to him in days. “Where’s your bow? Ah, it seems you’ve forgotten.” You were already in the process of collecting your things. “Perhaps next time. It wouldn’t be fair if you had to fight me with a sword, after all…”

He scoffed, watching as you turned to leave. “Oh, so you plan on running away again like a scared fledgling?” 

The training sword sailed past his head, missing his cheek by only a fraction. You didn't give him a second to flinch. 

Revali side-stepped away, making a move to swing his sword at your back. Feet sliding, you blocked it with ease, sword already there to intercept his own even before it completed its arc through the air. 

Experimentally, he pushed back on the blade. Dead still, it refused to budge. He tilted his head to capture your eyes, thrilled to see the burning embers behind them, all passivity long abandoned. There you are. “Nice to see you,” he grinned wryly. 

Both of you separated quickly. Circling each other, his eyes took in the determined clench of your jaw and the steady rise and fall of your chest, waiting for when you’d launch yourself forward again. 

"Not bad," you smirked. “Another one from that bag of tricks Chief Kamori taught you?” Your confidence in the moment was rather enthralling. Once again he found himself memorizing the planes of your face, reveling in the way your emotions would flit past—clear as day. 

“Just you wait til I’m in the air with a bow in my hand." 

"That's surprising!" You grinned, teeth sharp. "Didn't think the Great Revali was so reliant on keeping to the skies.” A cloud of dirt was kicked up as you propelled yourself forward. Taking the hilt with both hands, you raised your sword to strike heavily down on his head. “But isn’t it pretty when he finally comes down to your level.” 

With a grunt, Revali barely had time to strengthen his stance, bringing his blade up to block your attack. The clashing of swords sent his talons skidding back on the dirt, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight of the blow. 

“You’re insane!” He laughed breathily. “That could have cleaved my skull in two.”

“I knew you’d block it.” 

The fight soon became the only other sound in the training field, many of the knights having left to complete their drills somewhere else. Even that quiet Hylian was no longer there, taking his leave once confident you could hold your own. 

Of course they can defend themselves. He wanted to call out in mocking arrogance. And if they ever were in trouble they wouldn’t need you anyway. Because I’m here. 

Taking a deep breath, you launched yourself at him again, delivering several attacks in a series of sweeping motions. Revali found himself having to focus intently on each one, blocking one after the other, eyes following the movement of your arm in an attempt to anticipate where the blade would next appear. 

As such, he doesn’t notice the sweeping motion of your leg, the action sending him falling backwards into the ground. 

Unlucky for you, the Rito had known the feeling of falling all his life. And before you had the chance to step away, he discarded his blade, reaching out to drag you down with him. 

The air was knocked out of him as you landed painfully on his chest. Your sword slipped from your hand, clattering to the side. Revali pushed it further away when you tried to reach for it, trapping you against him with his other wing. 

Stilling, he could feel the rush of your heartbeat against his own. From on top, you glared at him. “Let me go, fights not over.” 

“Call it an intermission, darling.” You went red at that, smushing your head into his chest so as to hide the wild blush on your cheeks. “This fight is on hold until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me this whole week.” 

“Because you’re…”

“What was that?” He said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Because you’re you!” You finally let out. An angry scream left your throat, except because your face was still pressed to his front it came out as muffled and rather adorable. 

Revali rested his head on the ground as he exhaled, finding peace in the never ending sea of blue stretched out above you both. “Well,” he said, interrupting the little breakdown you were having. “Of course I’m me, there’s no one else really.  Unless you’ve met another Rito of the same name with razor sharp wit and devilishly good looks.” 

You huffed a laugh, finally lifting your head to look at him. This close and he could see the fan of your eyelashes and the kiss of the sun on your cheeks. It took everything in him not to reach out and trace the line of your mouth, wondering if your lips were as soft as they appeared. 

“I’ve been avoiding you because I like you, silly bird.” Blinking, you gazed at him with utter softness and sincerity. “And I apologise for running. I intended to tell you earlier— on the mountain. But self-doubt got the best of me and I didn’t want you to stop being my friend if you didn’t feel the same.”

Revali’s wings fell to his sides as you shifted, propping yourself up with both your arms. “Guess there’s nothing to worry about now that it’s out in the open.” A watery laugh escaped from your lips when he said nothing. “Come on, Revali. Say something. Or at least stand up so I can kick your ass.” 

His arms were around you once again in an instant, crushing you to him in a tight embrace. “Rito, if this is some kind of trick to knock me off my guard I swear…” He could feel your smile as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck. 

“I like you too.” He shook his head, poking you in the side and smiling when you yelped in response. “You are amazing and skillful. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. Though you overthink too much. Alas, but the curse of one so perceptive.” 

“Still don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.” You mouthed into his neck. His feathers raised at the feeling of your warm breath against him. “Though I’m extremely relieved that Urbosa was right.” 

Revali thought back to the mission at Mount Agaat, wondering what exactly the Gerudo Chief told you back then. “Right about what?”

“That you can’t take your eyes off me, even if you tried.”