#good lookin and my favorite name ever as one of his middle names? love

[max-greenfield]

Hero Fiennes-Tiffin as Hardin Scott in After (2019)

#hero fiennes tiffin #filmedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #userstream #bbelcheredit #userrobin #keanuincollars #mine #my gifs #good lookin and my favorite name ever as one of his middle names? love

[soulmate-game]

Not related to the other two Bio!mom Harley AUs that I did. Just... similar. I wrote this instead of sleeping, as per the usual.

—*—*—*—*—*

“I need your help.”

No accent, no threats of violence, no beating around the bush (figurative or otherwise). No fighting or unconscious bodies.

Just Harley Quinn with her hair down, no makeup, and completely serious, in the center of the Bat Cave. Even though her usual exaggerated Brooklynn accent (circa 1950s) had become a pretty inseparable part of her personality over the years, every now and then she forcibly stuffed it down and used her mostly unaccented voice. The one reminiscent of days with less colors on her face, a high bun, and a pristine white lab coat.

Every single one of the Bats and Birds present, fresh from an interrupted patrol thanks to her, could count the number of times they had seen Harley like this on one hand. Bruce would have the most recollections, but everyone else would have plenty of fingers left on said hand. So they all knew, especially when Bruce willingly pulled down his cowl so he could look Harley in the eye, that this was the start of something they were not likely to forget. And maybe their chances of survival were slim too.

“Harley,” Bruce’s voice was still gruff, seeing as he was still mostly Batman at the moment, but his eyes were soft. “Maybe you should tell us what you need help with first. And sit down. You look exhausted.”

Sure enough, there were dark circles under Harley’s eyes. She let Bruce-man lead her over to one of their debriefing tables and sit her down. She let out a huge sigh, her fingers tangling in her loose blond locks.

“I have a confession, and it isn’t gonna leave this cave, capiche?” The slight return of her accent relieved a little of the tension, but not much. Taking this as their cue, the rest of the bats spread out into their usual seats at the table. Bruce stayed near Harley, keeping a hand on her shoulder in silent support. Harley didn’t continue talking until he gave her a solemn nod in agreement. She gulped— an action that immediately returned the tension.

“... fifteen years ago, back when I was still with Joker, I disappeared off the Gotham scene for a few months. I’m sure a few of you remember,” she looked up, and a couple of the older vigilantes nodded. Really, Jason has still been Robin back then. But the memory stuck out in his head now that he was thinking about it.

“Yeah, you were breaking away from him a little bit, which was weird at the time,” Red Hood mused aloud, arms crossed. “I think you helped us out a couple times and did some of your first team ups with Ivy before you vanished. Then a few months go by and you were back in action with Joker, so we mostly ignored it as you just being you.”

Harley nodded. “Ah, my Ivy’s a lifesaver, even back then. She helped cover up the timeline by keeping me in action for longer than I should’a been without putting me at too much risk.”

“Timeline…” Red Robin spoke up, eyes huge even behind his mask. “You don’t mean—“

“Harley,” Bruce breathed, having also caught on. “You were pregnant?”

The air went still. Harley sniffed, eyes watering even as she smiled.

“Oh yeah. Shouldn’t have been possible, ya know? Me ‘n Joker being dumped in that damn acid should have made us both more sterile than an operatin’ room. But I knew I couldn’t raise a kid, so after she was born—“

“You kept her?” Damian interrupted, earning a gentle cuff over the head from Dick. Harley just snorted.

“Yeah. Not gonna lie, I thought about abortion. But the baby didn’t do nothin’ wrong, and I was still in love with Joker back then so I was ecstatic that I was able to make something new with part ‘a him in it. Still, I knew a baby didn’t deserve to be raised in Gotham. Especially not my baby, not with my enemies and history. Not with who her father was. I knew he’d never want her, never let me keep her. So I spent the last five months of my pregnancy lookin’ around for the best possible family to take her in. And I found them in Paris, France. A sweet couple, both of them bakers. Sabine, she’s both adorably sweet and super kickass. Comes from a Chinese family that is crazy about teachin’ their women martial arts. But nothing shady about it, I triple checked. Just bonding through kicking people in the face. Which is perfect, I wanted my baby to know how to defend herself. I knew she’d need those skills eventually. And Tom, that’s Sabine’s wife, he’s a gentle giant. Same size as Bane, but as harmless as a puppy and makes the best croissants ever. Seriously, the best.”

“Harley,” Bruce gently prodded, but there was a tiny grin on his face. Seeing her behaving so… so normally, so proud and reminiscent, was a rare treat. Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn’t proud of how far the woman had come. How she had freed herself and become a better person, mostly on her own.

“Right, right. The point,” Harley took a breath, rubbing her forehead. “I came clean to Tom and Sabine, but apparently they knew who I was the whole time. They just didn’t care— did I mention they are perfect? Anyway, once I explained everything, they agreed immediately to adopting my baby. They’d been wanting kids, but it would’a been too risky for Sabine’s health. That’s how I found them anyway, they were in the market to adopt. We named her Marinette. She took Tom and Sabine’s last names, hyphenated. We decided Quinn would be her middle name. And after that, I came back to Gotham and told myself that she was in good hands and I needed to forget about her. Cuz I was no good for her. I knew that. I went back to my old tricks. And then…” Harley chuckled, but it was self-depreciating.

“Then a few years passed, and I started breaking away from Joker for real. Then we broke up, I blew up Ace Chemicals while you guys were outta town doing Justice League and Young Justice shit. I started dating Ivy. And—“ she smiled softly at the table, clearly seeing something the rest of them couldn’t. “Then Ivy convinced me to go see her. Visit my baby, see how she’s been. And I did. Marinette was seven years old, but damn it to hell she was gorgeous. And say whatever you want about me and Joker— most of it will even be true— but neither of us are stupid. And she inherited all of our intelligence. All of it. She got my blue eyes. But she got his hair, which meant Sabine teased me relentlessly about ‘are you sure she isn’t that Wayne’s kid?’ And don’t make that face Bruce, you’d be lucky to have a kid half as beautiful as my Mari-pie. No offense, Damian. Anyway. Anyway, this is the important part. Or part of it.

“She sat there and listened to everything I had to say. Everything. A little seven year old, who could barely understand English at the time, and she listened without interrupting once. She never threw a fit, she wasn’t angry or confused. I told her about the things I’d done in the past— well, G rated versions— and she didn’t care. She called me Momma Harley right away, said she wanted to meet Aunt Ivy sometime soon, and started telling me everything about her that I’d missed. From that day on, she became my sunshine. The light of my life, and I still call her at least once a week every week. When I disappear for a few days out of the city? I’m visiting her—“

“You’re banned from international travel, Harley,” Dick scolded, but he sounded way too amused for it to work. He knew she had her ways, anyway. Nobody could actually stop Harley damn Quinn from doing whatever she wanted.

“—Ugh, she tells me the same thing every time! Disappointed glare and everything. I don’t know how I gave birth to such a goodie goodie, but somehow I did. Not important though! The important thing is, I’m always the first to hear when something new happens in her life. And we had decided that she wouldn’t visit me in Gotham until she was at least eighteen, but apparently she disobeyed me— which I should have expected honestly— and entered you guys’ WE international scholastic competition.”

“Oh no,” Bruce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng? The contest winner?” He finally pulled out a chair and sat down. “The winner gets an all-expense paid trip to Gotham for them and their whole class.”

“Exactly!” Harley threw up her hands. “Mari told me last week, and I’ve been trying to talk her out of coming ever since. But she’s inherited both of our stubbornness too, and she isn’t budgin’ a bit. ‘Momma Harley, I wanna see you and Auntie Ivy though!’ And ‘Momma, Gotham’s nothing I can’t handle,’ or my favorite, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get to see me dropkick someone three times my size then, and I’ll prove it.’”

“So that’s what you meant by you need our help,” Tim said as he leaned forward over the table. “Joker just broke out of Arkham yesterday. You want us to protect her.”

“I’d prefer if one of you was with her outside of the mask too, as often as possible,” Harley confirmed. “I can’t stop her from coming here anymore, but I also don’t trust Joker for a second. As soon as he sees her, I’m afraid he’ll make the connection.”

“She looks like him?” Damian asked, scrunching up his nose at the ugly mental image of Joker as a teenage girl. Harley shook her head, solemn.

“She looks like a dark-haired mini-me,” she corrected. “She even keeps her hair in pigtails as her way of showing support for me. And I know Marinette can kick ass, Sabine’s trained her well. But Marinette inherited more than I’d like from me,” Harley ran a hand through her hair. “I didn’t notice it until she was thirteen. She got a crush on a classmate, and it was almost like watching videos of me back during the early days of— well, of Harley Quinn. Just without the crime and insanity. She didn’t even realize that she was almost stalking the poor kid until I pointed it out, and luckily I was able to put my doctorate to good use and we nipped that right in the bud ASAP. She never meant it that way, anyway. As soon as I explained things to her, she was horrified and immediately asked me to help her learn how to have a healthy relationship. That was a fun discussion,” Harley grimaced. “But she still gets attached to people really, really easily. Once she grew out of her crush on that boy, she adopted him as her unofficial brother. She already calls Selina “Auntie,” even though I’ve barely mentioned her to Marinette. She gets attached fast, and deeply. And I’m afraid that even after all the warning I’ve done, all the stories I’ve told her—“

“You’re afraid she’ll get attached to Joker just like you did,” Bruce finished for her, closing his eyes. “Because she knows he’s her father.”

“Yes,” Tears were slowly dripping down her face already, her hands curled into fists so tightly that her knuckles were paper white. “You know how he is. If he finds out she’s his biological daughter, he’ll immediately try to take advantage of that. And he’s far too good with his words for people like me and Mari. I’m worried outta my mind. Please. Help keep my baby safe from him.”

“We will,” Jason no longer had his helmet on, or the domino mask that he usually wore underneath it. All of them knew masks were merely formality with Harley nowadays. And he needed to look her directly in the eye so she could see how serious he was. “I can sign up as a bodyguard for the class. It won’t be weird, seeing as they’re tourists and this is Gotham. They also have several rich kids in their group if I remember right.”

Bruce nodded, agreeing with Jason. “That’s a good idea. I can lead the class on their tours of WE personally. That’ll serve the purpose of keeping an eye on her and shutting up the investors that keep begging me to make more public appearances for the sake of the company. Marinette’s name is already released to the news as the winner of the contest, so we can’t keep her out of the spotlight long. Tim, you’ll have to keep an eye on any and all pictures of the class. Try to erase or doctor the images with her in it well enough that connections between her and Harley can’t be easily made. Dick, you and Damian will be in charge of keeping an eye out for any activity from Joker. The slightest hint, and you notify all of us. We’ll decide on a case-by-case basis who is necessary to stick with the class and who goes after the clown.”

“She’s gonna sneak out of her hotel to stay with me and Ivy,” Harley admitted, bringing the (now slightly judgemental) attention back to her. She raised her hands up in surrender. “She didn’t tell me that, and I didn’t approve or suggest it! I just know my baby too well to not realize that that’s her plan. Could ya provide an escort?”

Bruce sighed. “This is gonna be an eventful month.”

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #soulmate-game #bio!dad au #bio!mom harley quinn #bio!dad joker #maribat fanfic #maribat fic #platonic Harley x Marinette #platonic Ivy x Marinette #platonic brucinette

[hopeandvolleyball]

insecure boys pt.1

genre: angst if you squint, fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: food, weight insecurities in osamus

w/ osamu, atsumu

osamu miya

osamu had gotten home from work a little more than an hour ago, and he figured he’d been spending that entire time looking at the mirror, pinching the newfound softness piling onto his tummy. he’s been squeezing and kneading the flesh for so long it was turning red. lips twisted to the side, osamu sighed. when did he gain this much weight? how did he let this happen? osamu could barely look at himself in the mirror without feeling ugly and ashamed. mumbling under his breath he pulled a looser hoodie over his head, grateful it wasn’t starting to become tight around his middle.

you called his name from the kitchen, an indicator dinner was ready. in all honesty he didn’t feel like going out there, the idea of eating making him nauseous. but he still entered the living room, unable to fully wipe the crestfallen look off his face. even seeing your bubbly frame and pretty smile in the kitchen couldn’t fully heal him from his insecure thoughts clouding his mind. setting the utensils down, you ran up to hug osamu, arms around his waist. he surpressed the urge to push your arms down, not wanting you to feel his plush stomach. your eyes looked at him with pure adoration, sparkles and hearts swimming in your irises. osamu placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

“dinner will be ready in a few minutes, just gotta plate it and stuff,” you informed him, sounding so giddy. “might not look as pretty as when you make it but-”

“’bout that. ‘m not really hungry, darlin. ate a bit too much while at the shop today,” he lied not smoothly. he felt the familiar nausea creep back up his throat. he felt even worse at the frown tugging at the sides of your lips.

“you’re a bad liar, samu,” you commented, hands on your hips. “what’s wrong love? talk to me, please?” you pleaded. osamu knew he couldn’t keep it in anymore, not from you. it wasn’t fair. his stoic expression began to soften and quiver.

“when did i let myself go?” osamu asked, his voice starting to break. your brows furrowed and lips curled into a pout. you pulled him close to you, slipping your fingers through his dark brown locks as he held on to you with all the force he had. 

“what on earth are you talking about, samu?” you inquired as he squeezed you tighter.

“’m fat, darlin,” he whimpered. “i hate lookin’ at myself in the mirror and i don’t know why yer still with me.” that broke your heart, you heart it shatter into a hundred pieces as he spoke. you opened your mouth to speak but he continued. you decided it best to let him rant. “every day ya see ‘tsumu and i can’t help but thinkin’ ye’d want a guy like that. i used to be that and i’m so disappointed-”

“lovebug you own a restaurant,” you determined with a flat expression. osamu blinked, the tears forming in the corners of his eyes disappearing. 

“yeah. i know that. what does-”

“so its natural for you to gain weight if your working with food consistently,” you cut him off again. “do you think i expected a good chef to be completely cut? no i didn’t. besides, you wear the weight well.” osamu blinked.

“ye noticed?” he tilted his head to the side. 

“of course i did. i never said anything because i didn’t care. you look just as good, if not better, because the added weight means i’m taking care of you. that i’m treating you well.” you leaned up to kiss his temple. “if you want to lose the weight fine, samu. but i’m upset you’d do it by not eating. i want you to be safe and healthy, okay?” your hand caressed his cheek, drenched with newly found tears. “oh samu, i’m sorry-”

“yer fine darlin,” he sniffled, smiling brightly for the first time that day. “thank ya. i love ya more than i could ever tell ya.”

“i love you too osamu,” you kissed his lips sweetly. “now come on you need to eat.” dinner went by just fine, your eyes on him the entire time to be sure he ate his fill, watching him smile and hum after each bite. you loved osamu so much and you wanted to make sure he knew that. after dinner you relocated to the couch, his head finding its sweet spot on your lap. your hand smoothed over his abdomen, rubbing it affectionately. he hummed again. 

“‘m gonna fall asleep if ya keep doin that,” osamu mumbled against the fabric of your pants. you giggled.

“do it. you’ve had a long day, samu. get some sleep lovebug. i love you so much,” you gave his sides a pat. osamu hummed again, mumbling affections under his breath as he doze off into a gentle slumber.

atsumu miya

you waited in the living room of your shared apartment for atsumu to return home from practice. scrolling through your phone with boredom etched into your features until the front door creaked open. with bright eyes your head tilted up to see atsumu in the doorway, kicking off his shoes with a sigh. not an extra loud one like usual, which didn’t instantly tip you off. still, your lips pulled in the brightest grin possible. 

“welcome back tsumu! i missed you,” you beamed with a giggle. but all you were met with was a dismissive hum from atsumu. frowning you watched him set his volleyball bag on the table and head out to shower. okay. guess he was having a bad day today. nothing atsumu miya’s loving girlfriend couldn’t fix! pulling out your phone you ordered his favorite from his favorite takeout restaurant, waiting for him to finish showering. your knee bounced in impatience, but that all changed once atsumu emerged from his shower, drying his hair with no shirt and gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips. “hey! i ordered your favorite, i figured you could use it. you look like you’ve had a rough day.” you smiled softly. all atsumu did was nod. 

“thanks,” was his curt reply. now you were a mix of hurt and confused and upset. what did you do? why was he being so distant? was it because you forgot to text him the picture of the dog you saw during your break? or the fact that you forgot to cook the asparagus he wanted before it went bad? what was wrong with your boyfriend. he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. pouting you followed behind him, poking his side enough to annoy him enough to look over at you.

“okay atsumu miya. what’s wrong with you?” you demanded, arms crossing under your chest, cheeks puffed up. “usually you walk into this apartment and talk my ear off about anything and everything that happened at practice and today i’m met with absolute radio silence? what’s with that?” atsumu’s brow quivered and he turned to you with dark eyes. 

“sorry that ‘m annoyin and wanna fix my behavior so ya don’t fuckin’ leave me,” atsumu spat, returning to his water glass. your expression fell and you felt your heart sink. 

“what?” was your broken reply. and of course atsumu didn’t respond. “tsumu talk to me please, what’s gotten into you?” 

“omi called me annoyin’ today, which ain’t unusual, but he said if i didn’t get my act together ye’d leave me,” atsumu shifted awkwardly, staring at his reflection in the water. you frowned and placed your hands gently on atsumu’s hips, staring up at him.

“honey, no, i’d never leave you,” you cooed. “yeah you’re loud and obnoxious-”

“not helpin’ y/n.”

“but that’s part of your charm. you always manage to have something to say and i’m always here to listen. you never make things boring. and i love that about you. i love hearing how excited you get when you talk about your day, or the frustrated lilt in your tone when you complain about people not hitting your sets.”

“because my sets are perfect!” he spoke up, voice louder than it had been all day and had an offended squeak at the end of it.

“there’s my tsumu,” you sighed sweetly. “there’s my sweet baby. kiyoomi’s full of it. i’d never leave you for something as trivial about how much you talk. now cmon. how about we have dinner and you can tell me about your day, hm?” atsumu’s eyes were bright and he nodded like a sweet golden retriever.

“and then bo-kun kept missing my sets. my sets! then he got all mopey and pouty ‘bout it and i was like dude get a grip,” atsumu rolled his eyes around a mouth full of food, causing you to giggle. “he got his shit together eventually but damn it was so annoying. and don’t get me started on omi omi...” sighing sweetly you couldn’t help but stare at your over excitable boyfriend. listening to him ramble about his day was the best part about him coming home. 

#osamu #osamu x reader #osamu miya #osamu miya x reader #atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff

[parkers-gal]

breaking the internet T.H.

summary : tom and reader are expecting a baby, and finally make it public. a few problems occur.. and the fans break the internet (requested)

wc: 1100

–

You were in the middle of your second trimester. You and Tom had kept it on the low, only close friends and family knowing about the baby Holland that was on the way. But now, your bump was showing greatly, and it was only a matter of time before paparazzi would find out and post pictures everywhere.

So, you both took the secrecy to your advantage, deciding you would announce when you felt it was the right time.

"Love, do you need anything?" Tom asked from his spot beside you.

The two of you were cuddling in bed, watching movies for the day. Tom was going downstairs for some snacks and water, knowing to ask for any new cravings that might pop out of the blue.

"Pickles, please? Peanut butter, too?" You asked with a shy but cheeky smile.

"Of course, angel," Tom said. He kissed your forehead, then your growing stomach, before getting up and making his way downstairs.

Tom had memorized which foods to avoid, knowing your cravings change more frequently then ever before and knowing which foods made you sick to your stomach. He had grabbed snacks he was sure you wouldn't be sick from, though he was fairly certain this hormonal food stage would be ending soon.

When he got back, you were on your phone. He set the tray down on the nightstand before getting in next to you, his hands resting on your stomach and moving you slightly so you could sit comfortably together.

"Whatcha lookin' at, hun?" he asked.

"Harry just sent me the pictures from our pregnancy photo-shoot we did last week," you smiled, giggling lightly.

"Oh, let me see them?" He asked.

You moved your phone so both of you had a clear view of the screen. You had scrolled through all the pictures, Tom commenting on which were his favorites and what parts he liked most.

"I was thinking," you said. "We could use these to... tell your fans?"

Tom turned to look at you, softly replying. "Really?"

You nodded with a smile. "It'd be better if they find out this way than... y'know?"

"Yeah- yeah. When do you wanna do it?"

"Right now?" You said with another cheeky smile.

Tom nodded his head, grabbing his phone off of the nightstand and asking you to send him some pictures.

"Are we posting different ones?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said. "Here, lemme do it, so you don't mess anything up," you giggled, ruffling his hair playfully.

"Yeah, yeah," Tom laughed, blushing lightly.

When you returned the phone to him, the post was ready and waiting to be posted, as was yours.

"Ready?" he asked, wrapped an arm around you.

"Ready," you confirmed.

Both of you said 'go!' simultaneously, and you each hit the post button, smiling.

"Let's just keep them off for now," you said.

"Yeah, we can check in a couple hours?"

"Mhmm."

***

"Babe!" Tom said, running back into the room excitedly. "Let's check now!!"

"Okay, you goof. C'mere,: you motioned him to sit next to you in the bed again.

Sitting down, you opened his Instagram first. The caption (which you had made), was quite obvious, if the pictures didn't give it away. The post read, "Baby Holland, under construction..🤍".

Dozens of Tom's cast-mates had given their congratulatory messages in the comments, some even texting him in the direct messages and other's deciding to text his actual phone number. The post was up to twelve million likes already, the comments at least half that number. Your post had fifteen million, and thousands more comments then Tom. No doubt, your fanbase would be freaking out for the next couple months, expecting more baby content.

Fan's were commenting so many different things, some along the lines of 'Tom's a dad!' or 'Mommy Y/N!!!! My HEARTTTT🤍" and other fan reactions like that, some even including your ship name.

"Holy fuck, there's so many messages," Tom said.

Just then, the Instagram app, as well as Twitter, had kicked you both out. When you tried to reopen it, it just kicked you out again.

"What just happened?" you said.

"I don't- I don't know," Tom admitted.

Just then, Harry, Tom's brother, had called Tom.

"Yes?" Tom said, answering.

"Yeah, uhm, The Brother's Trust website is down."

"What? Why?" Tom asked.

You looked at him questioningly, silently asking what he had just been informed. He held up a finger, a silent 'in a minute.' You nodded, trying to open your social media apps again, but to no prevail.

"Too many people are on it at once."

"What? Why would tha-"

"Tom, your pregnancy announcement just broke the fucking internet. We're trying to get things back up."

"Oh shit," Tom whispered. "Alright, thanks for telling me."

"Yeah, yeah. I can't use Instagram now, so-"

"Wait you can't use it either?" Tom said. "It's kicked me and Y/N out whenever we've tried. Twitter's done the same."

"I think you broke the internet, Tom."

Tom laughed sarcastically, before he realized Harry was being serious. "Wait, what? You're not joking? Can that actually happen?"

"Yeah, One Direction's fans have done it countless times."

"Alright, alright. I've gotta go, I'll call you later," he said, and with a goodbye from Harry, he hung up the phone.

"What was that about, babe?" You asked.

"We- uhm.." Tom was stuttering. "We broke the internet," he confessed timidly.

"What?"

"Yeah, apparently that can happen? I don't know, but Twitter and Instagram are down, and so is the Brother's Trust website."

"Holy shit," you whispered. "Holy shit!" You started giggling.

You were hugging Tom, who had started laughing too. When you pulled apart, Tom had a dopey smile on his face, and you couldn't stop giggling.

"Might want to expect quite a few messages on your phone, Tommy."

"ME? You're the pregnant one!" He chuckled. "You should expect it too."

"Yeah, yeah," You laughed. "I love you."

"I love you too, angel," he said, giving you a silly kiss.

*** "Thomas!" Harrison said, slamming the door to his best friend's house.

"What?" Tom said, running into the room.

"Why'd you break the fucking internet?" Harrison whined.

You had come from the room Tom had just run out of, giggling and rubbing Tom's back affectionately.

"I'm sure the people are working on fixing things right now, H," You said.

"It's been hours! I need to stay updated with my games!" He whined again.

Tom and you exchanged glances before chuckling lightly. Tom had made his way over, opening the front door while talking to Harrison.

"You're gonna be perfectly fine without a few game scores," Tom said. "Now, have a good night. I am going to spend it," he had subtly moved Harrison to the front porch. "With my lovely, and might  I mention pregnant, wife."

You had giggled, waving a goodbye as Tom closed the door. He turned around to look at you, before laughing and wrapping an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead.

"Ah the internet."

"Too bad we broke it," you giggled again.

#tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland fic #dad!tom #dad!tom holland #tom holland fluff #husband!tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x ag!reader

[lavaffair]

Inukag Secret Santa 2021 on tumblr. @inusecretsanta

A sweet and fluffy secret santa fic for my giftee @nikelaos87!

I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope you have a Merry Christmas and a happy new year!

You can also read it on ao3 if you choose! https://archiveofourown.org/works/35961598

_____

Lucky

The day before Christmas is always filled with insanity and chaos, horrible traffic, and angry, tired people everywhere. If planned accordingly, one can easily avoid leaving their homes and leave the craziness for them, unless your name is Inuyasha and you have had no time to go shopping because of work. So, on the eve of the twenty-fifth, with a sleepy four year old clinging onto his shoulders, Inuyasha and his son Haru are one of the millions of people running around the mall searching for a last minute gift. As much as he blames himself for being forgetful, he was the complete opposite, but he was so swamped at work completing the financing counts of the year, as well as closing the lingering projects of his family's company that he had no time to buy Kagome her gift.

He had tried to buy something online, but each time he logged on to finally make a purchase, it was sold out soon after. Leaving him speechless, stressed, and utterly pissed off at himself and his indecisiveness. Kagome is the love of his life, his wife and the mother of his first born child. She is the only other women; besides his mother, who has loved him unconditionally despite being a half demon, and has shown him time and time again that he is worthy of her love. Before meeting her, he was a miserable asshole who was following his father’s footsteps into co-owning the company with his half-brother Sesshomaru. Once she came into his life it had felt like it was too good to be true, and after two years of dating, he asked her to marry him and he has been the luckiest man ever since.

“Papa?”

His son's voice was so faint that if it were not for his sensitive hearing Inuaysha would have missed it.

“Yes Haru? What is it?”

“I’m hungry.”

As if on cue, both Inuyasha heard Haru’s stomach grumble in protest. He could not help but laugh at the timing of it all, and gently squeezed the tiny body in his arms.

“Alright bud, let’s go get ya some food. Papa’s been so busy lookin’ for mama’s present that we’re late on lunch.”

Inuyasha darted towards the food court as fast as he could within a crowd of people, successfully avoiding a collision and ignoring the vendors that pestered in the middle of the walkway. The food court was just as crazy with long lines and seating being hard to find, but he will deal with that later, first he needs to get them some food.

“Papa,” Haru pointed towards his favorite spot in the mall. “I want chicken nuggets.”

Inuyasha let out a snort, knowing good and well that his son would choose the restaurant before announcing his decision. “Hm, good choice bud. Let’s go before the line gets longer!” After waiting in line for ten minutes and hunting down an empty table Inuyasha and Haru finally found a place to sit down and eat. Haru happily danced in his chair while munching on his fries and Inuyasha could not help but compare him to Kagome. Although his son shares his golden eyes, he has his mothers hair and smile, aside from also getting Inuyasha’s fangs, he did not get his ears. Kagome was heartbroken when she did not see two little dog ears on Haru’s head but quickly got over it, because with human ears or dog ears their son was the most perfect human they have ever seen. They each could see parts of each other within him, as well as some shared behaviors, like dancing when eating or pouting when he gets mad. They created this little version of them with love and adoration, and they will continue to give their son all of the love he deserves.

“You happy now?” Inuaysha asked with a grin.

“Happy papa! I’m doing the happy dance!” Haru giggled with one french fry in each hand.

“A happy Haru makes papa happy, but we gotta hurry and find mama her present.” Inuyasha grinned. “She won’t be with aunty Sango for long, and we need to race her home.”

“We’re faster papa.” Haru proclaimed confidently.

The half demon laughed, “That’s why we gotta get outta here as soon as possible bud.”

As soon as the boys were finished with their meals they were back on their journey to find Kagome the perfect gift. Inuyasha knew exactly what she wanted, but he had not been able to find the right one. None of the jewelry stores they went to had the right size or color, and at this rate he was getting worried he would have to settle. Since he had known Kagome, she has always wanted a gold locket with a heart big enough to fit a photo of her and Inuyasha. With Haru now added to the picture, the locket size would still be perfect to fit the three of them and she would be able to wear it happily around her neck. Every year Inuyasha tries to look for a locket that fits her description, and yet every year he fails.

Except maybe not this time, because right in front of him was a locket and chain that checked off all of the boxes. He could care less about the price, because all he could think about was seeing his precious wife wearing it around her neck. It was an immediate purchase, with added insurance and all, and the Taisho boys were finished with their last minute Christmas shopping.

“Papa, papa!” Haru bounced happily in his arms. “Bear for mama!”

“You wanna get mama a bear?” The half demon stared at the store his son was pointing to and knew exactly why. “Okay Haru, let’s make it quick.”

Haru knew what bear to get immediately, because he wanted a bear that looked like him, because Kagome called him her baby bear. In his mind, this teddy bear look alike will be there for Kagome when he was not around for her to hug instead. He found a fluffy black and brown bear with a white tail and big button eyes and showed it to Inuyasha, who completely agreed that this small bear looked exactly like his quarter dog demon son.

Quickly they ran to develop the picture that Inuyasha would place inside of the locket and wrapped up the gifts nicely. The boys had beat Kagome home by 20 minutes, and it gave them ample time to put the gifts under the tree and change into comfortable clothing.

Kagome entered her home soon after in a desperate need for a long, hot shower after helping Sango set up for the party. She unsuccessfully dragged her feet to the kitchen and clung onto her husband for leverage and support, and snuggled into his arms once he pulled her in closer.

“Long morning?” he cheekily asked.

Kagome groaned, “You have no idea.”

“Want some coffee? You’re freezing, and I just made it.”

“Mmmm… yes please.” She snuggled in closer to his warm chest, breathing in his scent of pine and mint. “Where’s Haru?”

Inuyasha nodded towards the couch with a big grin, “Passed out in the living room. I gave him hot chocolate and he was a goner.”

Kagome giggled. “This is when he takes his nap, the hot chocolate just helped him fall asleep faster. I'm a sucker for it too, but I definitely need some coffee right now.”

The couple fell into a comfortable silence as they held onto each other for a few extra minutes. Kagome had dozed off, completely oblivious to the fact that there were two new presents under the tree, and forgot about her cup of coffee. Not that it mattered much, because Inuyasha would make her as many fresh batches of coffee she wants as many times as she asks.

_ _ _

After a much needed nap for the Taisho-Higurashi family, it was time to get ready for the Christmas party at Sango and Miroku’s. It was traditional for the group of friends to take turns hosting every year, and this year it fell on Sango and Miroku’s hands. Kagome had been over earlier to help set up, and everyone who was invited would be bringing a homemade dish for dinner. It was going to be a good party full of friends and family and delicious food.

“You ready bud?” Inuyasha excitedly asked his son. “Hisui and the twins are probably waiting for you to get there!”

“Yeah papa for hide and seek!”

Crouched on the ground as she tied Haru’s shoes Kagome was in a fit of giggles. “I wonder how long it’ll take them to find you this time baby bear.”

Inuyasha nodded, “Yeah, our kids is too good at hiding.”

“-But also seeking.” Kagome chimed in.

“It’s because he’s part demon like his dad!” The half demon proudly yelled. “Strong sense and strong arms right bud?!”

Haru scrunched his face and flexed as menacing as he could, making sure that his two fangs poked out of his mouth. “Strong like papa!”

Kagome gently squished Haru’s cheeks and pulled him in to give me a kiss on his forehead. “Yes baby, strong just like papa.”

Haru laughed and danced where he stood, “Papa, can mama open her present?”

Kagome smiled at her son before glancing up towards her blushing husband. “What do you say Yash, we can open mine before we go? He’s way too excited, and who can say no to that face.”

“It doesn’t hurt, alright bud, give mama her present.”

Haru giggled excitedly and bent down to grab the little box wrapped in red paper and a gold bow. Blushing a cute shade of pink, he quietly placed the little box in Kagome’s empty hands.

Realizing which gift his son picked out Inuyasha quickly took his seat onto the ground beside his wife.

“You sure you wanna give that one to mama?” Inuyasha asked, his cheeks red with anticipation.

Saying nothing else the little boy nodded and nudged Kagome to unwrap the little box. He walked over to Inuyasha and sat snugly on his lap as he watched his mother carefully rip the paper apart. Upon seeing the little box Kagome knew it would be jewelry, maybe new earrings or bracelet, but she could not hold back the surprised gasp when the gold chain and heart locket appeared before her.

“Inuyasha…” She stammered, “You didn’t! I mean, you did, but you didn’t!”

“We did.” Inuyasha grinned with pink cheeks.”

“Open it mama!” Haru cheered.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute as she went to open the locket. For years Kagome has wished for a locket to wear around her neck, before Haru, it would be to showcase a picture of her and Inuyasha, but now it would also include her son. Kagome has always been proud to show off her husband and child, because she loves them more than anything else in the world, and together they make up their little family. Of course, Kagome does not need any jewelry to tell people about her husband and son, but this locket means something very precious to her.

Placed inside the locket is a photo of the three of them laying in bed, with Haru smiling happily in the middle. That was a morning like any other, where Inuyasha was off work and the three of them were able to have a lazy morning. Haru was telling his parents about the dinosaur dream he had the night before, and had erupted in a fit of giggles before Inuyasha captured the moment with his phone. It was an unplanned and beautiful moment between the three of them, and a moment Kagome will cherish forever.

With tears in her eyes she leaned over to kiss Inuyasha and Haru on their cheeks, “Thank you. You don’t know how happy this makes me.”

“Happy crying?” the little boy asked.

“Yeah bud, mama’s happy crying. don’t worry.” Inuyasha clarified.

Kagome laughed as Inuyasha wiped her tears from her cheeks and pulled her in for a gentle, tender kiss. As they shared their moment together, Haru quickly climbed off his fathers lap and grabbed the other present for Kagome.

“Mama, one more present!” He placed the gift bag on her lap and clapped. “Papa helped me find it!”

Kagome grinned, “Another one? For me?” She leaned in and kissed her son��s nose, “My boys spoil me too much!”

Gently she removed the tissue paper and uncovered the little teddy bear that was hiding underneath it. The bear was incredibly soft and fluffy with a beautiful black and brown coat.

“Haru said that whenever you need a hug and he’s not available, you can hug this bear that looks exactly like him.” Inuyasha explained, “Because of the nickname you gave him.”

“Oh my baby bear.” Kagome smiled. “Thank you so much! He might get jealous though, because I’m still going to give you way more hugs!” She quickly grabbed her son by the waist and pulled him into her chest for a warm hug and joined the chorus of giggles that were escaping from her son. Inuyasha could not stop the grin from forming on his face, and in turn his cheeks began to hurt.

“Merry Christmas mama.” Haru kissed her cheek. “We love you.”

Fighting back new tears from forming in her eyes she hugged her son once again, before leaning in to kiss Inuyasha. “I love you too, so, so much.”

As Inuyasha held both his blushing wife and his giggling child in his arms, he had to remind himself that he was not dreaming. This wonderful woman, and his beautiful son were part of his family, a family he once thought he would never have. Kagome could have shown up on Christmas morning with absolutely no physical gift in her hands and he would not care. Her infinite love for him, and the gift of their son are the most incredible gifts he has ever been given.

Inuyasha silently declared that he is the luckiest man on Christmas, and beyond it.

#inukag #inuyasha #inukag fan fic #inukag fanfic #inukag fanfiction #ao3 #inuyasha secret santa #oc #fluff #inuyasha x kagome #inuyasha and kagome #kagome higurashi #kagome x inuyasha #christmas

[chudleycanonficfest]

Just the Girl

Day 21, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: Just the Girl

Author: adenei

Pairing: Scorose (implied)

Prompt: Songfic

Rating: K

TW: alludes to events in CC, but nothing outright is stated!

A/N: This fic’s idea was originally inspired by the song “Just the Girl” by Click Five. It ended up taking a turn I wasn’t anticipating, but if anyone’s read Cursed Child, you’ll know that Scorpius is absolutely smitten with Rose, who tends to give him the cold shoulder and turns his nose down on him throughout the majority of the play. 

‘Cause she’s bittersweet; she knocks me off of my feet

And I can’t help myself; I don’t want anyone else

She’s a mystery; she’s too much for me

But I keep comin’ back for more; she’s just the girl I’m lookin’ for 

“Scorpius, relax.”

The older blonde pats his teenage son on the shoulder as they approach the lopsided house at the end of the country lane. Twenty years ago, Draco would have never entertained the thought of mingling with any of the three individuals that made up the Golden Trio, let alone the rest of the Weasleys. Yet here they were, at the invitation extended to them by Albus, Harry’s son and Scorpius’s best friend, to the Weasley’s mid-summer birthday celebration. His late father is probably rolling in his grave as Draco takes each step forward, cognizant of the dust that tinges his favorite pair of Grensons.

“I can’t, Dad! Do you know how big of a deal this is to get invited to the Burrow?”

“So you’ve told me every day since Albus owled two weeks ago.”

It’s not that Draco resents his son’s friendship with the middle Potter boy. If anything, he’s grateful that Scorpius has found such a close friend during his time at Hogwarts. Sure, the two of them caused enough trouble in five years that rivaled Harry’s penchant for saving the world, but that was all water under the bridge now. Draco is sure the invitation was only extended to them today because of his willingness to work with the Potters and Granger-Weasleys to avoid what was sure to be an end to life as they knew it if Delphi had succeeded in her maniacal plan.

As they round the subtle bend in the path, the Burrow’s expansive garden comes into view, and Draco can see a plethora of people swarming the grounds. A dozen teenagers are flying around a makeshift pitch in what looks like a pick-up Quidditch match while the adults sit along the magically expanded picnic table, sipping on beverages and watching the game unfurl. 

“Thanks for letting me come,” Scorpius interrupts Draco’s observations as he bounces along beside his father.

“Scorpius, we’ve been over this. Just because Albus’s dad and I don’t always get along, I won’t let that get in the way of your friendship.”

His son beams up at him with a wide smile. “Are you gonna stay for dinner?”

Draco chuckles. “That will depend if I’m welcome. Though I’ll probably just exchange pleasantries and be on my way after I figure out what time you’ll be home.”

“Great!”

As they approach the house, it doesn’t take long for Albus to spot the blonde-haired pair. He’s sitting on the sidelines, which is unsurprising to Draco, considering neither boy inherited any interest or skill in quidditch. Albus scrambles to his feet and begins running toward Scorpius to meet them halfway. Draco is about to make a comment about how excited Scorp’s best friend is to see him but pauses when he notices his son’s gaze peering around the pitch instead.

Well, that’s odd.

“Scorp! Scorp! Over here!” Albus calls, finally gaining Scorpius’s attention.

“Hey, Al!” Scorpius’s tone is bright and excitable as Albus slows in front of them.

“I didn’t know you were coming!” He’s out of breath from the run, but that’s not what interests Draco. 

Why wouldn’t Albus know Scorpius was coming? Did he forget to send a response?

Scorpius did have a knack for forgetfulness, so it wouldn’t be surprising to Draco. He watches his son with renewed interest to see how he responds.

“Oh! Uh…” Scorpius has also never been good at lying. 

Draco can read him like an open book, just like Astoria. He follows Scorpius’s gaze, which flits back to the pitch, and his face transforms into a goofy grin as an olive-skinned girl with flaming red curls flashes a wicked grin in their direction.

“Oh. Oh!” Albus responds quickly as he looks back toward his family. “Yeah, maybe Wiggy lost your letter. He’s been doing that more and more lately. Dad says he’s getting old…” Albus rambles. “C’mon, let’s go find Rose! I’m sure she’ll want to, er, show you around the grounds with me.”

“Right, uh, thanks, Dad! I promise I won’t be home late!”

“Yeah, Dad’s over there with Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione if you want to figure out a time!” Albus mentions over his shoulder.

Draco has every intention of walking over to his former classmates, but he can’t seem to get his feet to move as he watches the boys run off. His suspicions are confirmed when he watches Rose dismount from her broom and run to meet them. The awkwardness that ensues between the teenage Granger-Weasley and his son matches that of young adolescent love, and terror floods Draco’s veins.

Of all the girls at Hogwarts… 

Of course, Draco shouldn’t be surprised by this. He knew Scorpius was smitten with Rose early on. All he could talk about during holidays were Albus and his ‘beautiful, strong-willed’ cousin Rose. But Draco also knew that for the first few years of their Hogwarts career, Rose refused to give Scorpius the time of day, which put his mind at ease. Becoming best friends with Potter’s son was one thing, but Draco may just have a heart attack if Scorpius and Rose were now a—

Bloody hell, they’re absolutely a thing, aren’t they? 

It’s all Draco can do to keep a straight face as he watches the two share a chaste hug, their hands grazing as they make their way to the orchard. He needs to stop it. No, he shouldn’t interfere. 

Do Weasley and Granger know?

The thought of the girl’s parents shakes Draco from his stupor as his feet figure out how to move again, and he takes long, purposeful strides toward where they are sitting.

“Malfoy,” Potter greets him upon his arrival, his voice not as curt as it usually is.

“Potter.”

“Why d’you look like you’ve just eaten a puking pastille?” Ron asks, ignoring any form of welcome.

Draco’s response is interrupted as Ginny approaches from the house. “Draco! Hi. I didn’t realize Al invited Scorpius today,” Ginny looks at Harry for an explanation before she adds, “Not that he’s not welcome, of course!”

“I wasn’t aware, either,” Harry knits his brows in confusion.

“Well, I was under the impression it was Albus that invited him, but now I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asks, her face paling slightly.

Draco’s not surprised. Hermione’s always had an annoying knack to come to a conclusion faster than anyone he’s ever known. For once, he hopes she doesn’t disappoint in this regard.

“When Albus came to greet us, he said he didn’t know Scorpius was coming. At first, I believed Scorpius had forgotten to owl his response, but watching that interaction, I think Al may be covering for someone else once he caught on.”

Weasley was an Auror. Let’s see how long it takes him to string things together.

The answer is not long as the Trio’s eyes travel across the garden, just in time to catch Rose and Scorpius entering the orchard hand in hand as Albus slinks off in another direction. Draco doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ron so pale. 

“Hermione, did Rose happen to give the name of the friend she was inviting today?” Ron asks.

“No,” Hermione squeaks, her voice weak from shock, and Draco’s surprised to see that something finally seems to shut the know-it-all up.

Harry bursts out into raucous laughter as Ginny bites back her own chuckle.

“I’m going to kill her.” Ron stands, nearly flipping the table in his haste, as he tears off toward the orchard. Hermione’s hot on his heels, and Draco finds his own limbs moving in the same direction.

He can barely hear Ginny’s quip as he follows his former enemies across the Burrow’s lawn,

“Looks like Rose doesn’t hate Scorpius, after all.”

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #romione #scorose #hinny

[solarwonux]

Sugar || Wonwoo

gamer!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 2.2k

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, fluff

note: this is one of my fav one shots I have written lol, its so cute and fluffy and honestly who does not love gamer!wonwoo!!!! Anyway, I hope you like this one it is one of my older ones but a good one (i think), let me know your thoughts <3

drabble game || masterlist 

You could hear Wonwoo cursing in his office at his computer screen for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, driving you insane. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded, watching him react to the game he was playing was one of your favorite sources of entertainment. And It was no wonder people tuned in twice a week to watch him play while he streamed.

But tonight, you were due to finish your senior thesis and the words weren’t coming in. You had spent all day working around your apartment, turning over sentences in your head as you thought of ways to finish off your thesis. But when you had sat down in front of your coffee table to finally begin writing after finishing all the chores you had tasked yourself in doing. Your mind went blank. You had spent the following hours writing and rewriting growing even more frustrated when you realized that you had hit a wall.

Slamming your laptop shut, you rested your head on top of your coffee table, tracing over the lines in the wood with your index finger. Listening to Wonwoo’s laughter as he continued talking to his webcam, cursing whenever something didn’t go his way. You sighed wishing you weren’t contemplating barging into the office and pulling out the power chord to his gaming set up, as a means to silence him. Though you knew it would just lead to a fight and as annoyed as you were, that was the last thing you wanted.

Sighing, you got up from your spot on the floor and walked slowly to the office and gently knocked on the door. You wrapped your cardigan around your torso tightly while you waited for him to open it. You knew asking him to keep it down was useless, considering that it hadn't worked before, but you were out of options.

“Yes, baby.” Wonwoo smiled at you widely once he had finished opening the door. His headset around his neck, his round glasses slowly sliding off the bridge of his nose and his hair sticking up in places he had tugged on out of frustration.

“How long are you gonna stay on tonight?” You leaned up running a delicate hand through his hair attempting to fix it.

“Not sure…Seungcheol on too and we just started playing this new game that came out.” He finished pushing his glasses up his nose. “Why, what’s wrong?” He reached over smoothing over the creases that had formed between your brows.

“Umm…it’s nothing.” You shook your head. “But could you at least try to keep it down a little.” You pouted forming prayer hands in front of you. Wonwoo chuckled and pecked your lips softly. “I’ll try, have you finished your thesis yet?”

“Almost.” You smiled widely, hating yourself for lying to him, knowing that if you had told him the truth, he would’ve shut down the game and sat with you until you finished. And you couldn’t do that to him knowing how excited he got for his streams. Remembering how he kept tabs on comments that he’d find funny just so he’d be able to tell you about them later.

“Does that mean you’ll come sit with me when you finish.” He rubbed soothing circles on your chin as he looked down at you with that certain look you could never say no too. “Mhm.” You nodded and pecked his nose making him scrunch it up. “Now go before someone thinks you’ve gone missing.” You shoved him into the room lightly making him laugh.

“Impossible, they know I’m with my crazy, beautiful, sexy, cool girlfriend.” He winked at you as he sat down in his gaming chair, throwing you a kiss as he put on his headset again. You closed the door shaking your head, sighing in frustration as you leaned your forehead against it. Wishing you didn’t care and support Wonwoo’s hobby that had quickly turned into his second job as much as you did.

Knowing you weren’t going to get anywhere with your thesis, you decided to go take a shower. Hoping the hot water hitting your tense muscles will help clear the whirlwind going on in your head.

Feeling a lot lighter after your shower you wrapped a towel around your body. You walked out of your fogged-up bathroom and went to your dresser sitting down. Grabbing your body butter and lathering it around on your legs slowly kneading out the tension, then doing the same to the rest of your body. Once you finished you picked up your towel that had fallen onto the floor and before you could wrap it around yourself again, Wonwoo cursed loudly causing you to jump. You sighed and stormed out of your bedroom, opening up the door to the office and throwing your towel angrily at him.

“What the hell baby?” He exclaimed, jumping slightly from his chair angrily clicking on his computer mouse. “I’m in the middle of a game.” He groaned doing a double-take the second he realized you were standing naked with your hands on your waist in the doorway. You watched as he nervously scrambled taking off his headset and covering his webcam with his hands as quickly as possible, his going wide. “What are you doing, go put on some clothes.” He yelled, whispering.

“I asked you to keep it down…why are you being so loud today?” You said moving your arms around before bringing them to settle on to your hips again.

Wonwoo swallowed and looked down at his computer monitor, you could hear the gunshots from the game and Seungcheol calling out for Wonwoo telling him he needed back up. “Sorry, sorry, sorry…but you can’t just barge in here lookin’ like that.” He stared at you, his bottom lip slowly making its way in between his teeth as he looked over you slowly.

“Why not, they can’t see me.” You challenged stepping into the room. Wonwoo walked back tripping over his gaming chair as he tried to keep his hands on the webcam. “Well now they can’t, I’m covering it.” He retorted, his body at an awkward angle as you stood right in front of the monitor. “Maybe it’s a good thing they see, it’ll teach you to listen to me when I tell you things.” You said putting your hand over his hand feeling his hold on the webcam tighten. “Bet Seungcheol will listen to me if I was standing in front of him like this.” You whispered giving him a sultry look before running out of the room giggling.

You stood outside the hallway with your back against the wall as you listened to Wonwoo frantically try to cut his stream short. “Umm…s-sorry guys something came up, I’ll be back next week.”

“Wonwoo you pussy don’t leave me al—” You heard Seungcheol yell through the mic, getting cut off when Wonwoo shut everything down. You heard the sound of his headset gently hit his keyboard. You leaned over peaking your head in as you watched Wonwoo angrily run his fingers through his hair before looking over at you. “You little minx…get in here.” He demanded as he started walking towards you. You giggled and started running away into your bedroom, while he followed.

You threw yourself on your bed and waited for Wonwoo. “Hi Woo, what’s wrong?” You asked laying down the minute he walked into the room.

“Don’t you have a thesis to finish…what are you getting me so worked up for?” He said bringing his t-shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room.

“I don’t think that was me, baby, that was your stupid games’ doing.” You sat up \on your elbows watching as he continued to undress.

“Do you know how dangerous that was…I could’ve been reported for nudity if you were caught.” He said as he finished taking off his boxers and climbed onto the bed.

“It’s a good thing you weren’t.” You giggled, Wonwoo rolled his eyes and turned you over so you were now laying on your stomach. You felt his palm come down onto your ass causing you to moan out. He leaned down and bit one of your cheeks, a small inaudible gasp leaving your mouth making him smirk against your skin. “If you wanted to play all you had to do was ask love.” He spoke against your skin and slowly kissed his way up your body, reaching over to move your drying hair away from your neck.

“You only ever want to play your games.” You moaned out as you felt him suck onto your neck harshly, feeling another slap land on your ass. “That’s not true…this will always be my favorite game.” He bit your earlobe sneaking a hand around your front resting his hand over your neck. “What do you say baby…want to play?” He tightened his hold around your neck making you gasp.

“mhm, yes please.” You moaned feeling his free hand teasingly run down his back, his knees parting your legs. “Always so respectful for me aren’t you.” He said sneaking his hand in between your legs. “And wet.” He moaned, coating his fingers with your arousal, teasing you slowly.

“Now tell me, love, was this what you wanted when you rudely interrupted me?” Wonwoo removed his hand from around your neck and tugged at your hips bringing you up to your knees.

“N-No.” You whimpered, feeling the head of his cock run through your folds. “I find that hard to believe. You’re all clean and moisturized and wet for me, baby.” He groaned and pressed his head onto your clit. “Just look at how hard you have me.” He finished pushing himself in slowly. You arched your back moaning, feeling yourself stretch around him.

For months your busy schedules had been getting in the way. He has his job at Woozi’s record company and his twitch streams two times a week. And you with your part-time job at the publishing company and going to night classes to finish up your masters, that by the time any of you would get home all you wanted to do was sleep.

“Woo, it’s been too long please move.” You choked out feeling his veins throbbing against your silky walls. “Anything for you my angel.” He grunted snapping his hips into you hard making you scream out his name. Feeling your arms start to give out as the pleasure continued to course through your body, you leaned down on your forearms.

His hips hitting your backside hard yet slowly as he sensually rode out the pleasure the two of you were currently feeling. His cock throbbing the more the two of you started reaching for your high. “I-I’ve missed you.” He moaned breathlessly leaning his body over yours digging his fingers into your hips roughly. He buried his head into the crook of your neck as he continued to ram himself into you. You turned your head to the side and kissed him messily biting his lower lip roughly. “I missed you too.” You gasped feeling him hit the sweet spot you knew he loved to play with.

Both of your moans mix with the sound of your skin against his, bounced of your bedroom walls. The headboard of the bed slamming into the wall creating small dents that you were sure you would worry about in the morning. Along with the noise complaint letters you would get during the week from all the angry tenants living in your apartment building. But you could care less, the only thing that mattered was the delicious spread going on in between your legs.

“Touch yourself b-baby,” Wonwoo demanded, feeling the loss of his skin against your back as he lifted up his body. You snaked your hand between your legs and rubbed your clit roughly, as Wonwoo sped up his movements. He set a foot on your bed reaching a new angle in you making you arch your back in pleasure as he helped you chase your high. The coil of pleasure spirals until you burst around him screaming out his name in pleasure. You panted bottoming out looking up over your shoulder whimpering as Wonwoo pulled out of you, releasing his load onto your back milking himself out.

He gave your ass a little tap signaling for you to lay down on your stomach again. He panted laying down next to you putting an arm underneath his head and the other on your upper back. “So much for finishing my thesis tonight.” You said trying to catch your breath.

Wonwoo laughed, shaking his head, drawing small patterns on your shoulders with his thumb. “That’s on you baby.” He leaned over kissing your nose. “Are you feeling better?”

You looked up at him raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean Woo, I’m not sick.”

He sighed, turning his body to face you. “No, but you were stressed out, I could tell the second I came home and when you told me to keep it down the first time.” He brought his hand up over and rubbed soothing circles around your flushed-out cheek. You nodded burying your face into his chest. “I’m feeling a lot better…thank you.”

“Good, now let me run you a bath and then we can sit down together and finish your thesis…does that sound okay?” He scrunched up his nose at a poor attempt to push his glasses up. You smiled helping him and kissed his lips softly.

“Sounds amazing love.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen smut #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt imagines #svt fanfiction #svt x reader #svt scenarios #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fanfiction #wonwoo smut

[theloveclub-18]

She’s just a friend

summary: you and Ransom decided to try that friends with benefits thing

pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader

word count: 1947

warnings: explicit language, mentions of sex, but no actual smut, little angst

A/n: please do not copy, rewrite, translate or post my work anywhere. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work. 

———————————————————————

It was 3:15 a.m. when you opened your eyes. Ransom was lying next to you with his arm around you waist. You took a deep breath and tried to put out of his embrace, but he only held you closer. You should’ve not stay through the night and leave by the end of your fourth and last round.

Yeah, sex with Hugh Ransom was good, even more it was absolutely fantastic. You always thought about how maybe he ruined you for other partners. This man was so ridiculously good in it. What you also thought about was how maybe you should’ve known better and never agree for that friends with benefits thing. In your defense you really needed an emotional discharging and he’s always lookin’ so fucking sexy, so you just gave up, when he so casually asked you about it after a couple glasses of whiskey few months ago.

But now god knows how much you regret it because you fell and fell hard for that “asshole”. Well, actually he’s not that bad it’s more about how he wants other to see him. And they do. They all believe in it, his image of arrogant cold hearted jerk. Ransom is a jerk in fact, but sometimes you see things that others don’t. You see a broken boy who tries to cover his vulnerabilities by venom observations and jackass demeanor.

Of course you tried to talk to him about it, talk about what he went through, but it usually never worked out. Though one time after another family event you saw something in his eyes, a speck of sorrow and you let yourself to hope that this is the moment when he’d finally open up. It also was the moment when you knew how much you loved him.

But as soon as this thought slipped through your head, Ransom changed in face, as if he read your mind and he didn’t like what he saw. He stand out from the nice and warm bed and headed for the kitchen saying you should probably go home. He didn’t come back to the bedroom and soon you left his apartment with tears on your face.

You had nothing to blame him for. It was pretty clear from the start that he didn’t want anything serious from you or from anyone else. Ransom said he didn’t believe in such things like love and relationships but good fuck was something he believed very much.

So were you. At least for the first couple of months.

But then you did the stupidest thing you could ever do...you let yourself hope for more. You’ve started to notice his lovely glances from across the room and the way he always try to hold you whenever other guys where approaching you like he was marking you as his. How he was laughing at your stupid jokes and watched your favorite sitcoms with you.

It was three weeks later when you came to the local bar with your coworkers to relax on friday night after a hard week and spotted him flirting with some pretty girl at the table. You remembered her, she was the girl who takes care of his grandfather. Ransom was in white sweater that you gave him this christmas and the girl in cute little dress, well, she was really gorgeous one with big puppy eyes and the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. You knew you can’t compete.

He didn’t even notice you there and even if he did what’s the matter. He’d probably just say hello and walk away. You tried to calm yourself down and stop being so jealous, because you have no rights for it, but still it was breaking your heart.

The next day when you came to his apartment to take some of your things, you heard something you wish you’d never heard.Ransom was talking on phone when you walked in.

-“Yeah, man, you know she’s just a friend to me...yeah, I know-I know but hey you know i’ll never settle down for anyone...ahahahah...yes, even for Megan Fox”-Ransom laughed and you left as fast as you can.

And you were just a friend indeed and nothing more. You felt like you was the biggest fool on earth for believing that you really had a chance with someone like him.

You crying all way home and when you finally get there, you thought about how you going to end everything with goddamn Ransom, because of how much pain it caused you too be so close with him yet so far.

However now you laying in bed with the same man that you promised you’d never sleep again with, while he’s holding you close to his chest. Yeah, sometimes things doesn’t work the way you want them to.

You look at his peaceful beautiful face and wonder how would it feel to be loved by this man. To spend your life by his side.

“Well”- you think to yourself - “I guess we’ll never know”. And with that you slowly remove the blanket and get up from the bed careful enough to not wake Ransom up.

You stand a little bit too long in front of the front door and hesitate to leave, cause you know that this was probably the last night with him. When you get in the car you finally feel how hot your tears are and how heavy is this weight of unrequited love on your chest.

~

Days go by and you slowly started to live without him. You told your roommate Sarah never let him in again and blocked his number. You thought that maybe you doing something wrong and maybe you should’ve been happy with what you had. But then again you remembered that you’d never be more than a fuck buddy to him and he made himself pretty clear saying this to some of his friends just a couple of days ago.

“It’s time to move on”-you were thinking as you walked into some fancy restaurant for set up date that was arranged by Sarah. She said he’s very sweet and a doctor, so why don’t try it? Maybe this guy Mark is all you’ve dreamed for?

The guy is the complete opposite of Ransom. He’s not that tall, but very nice and lovely. He also have a pretty blonde curls and dark brown eyes that mean nothing to you, cause they’re not as deep as Ransom’s. You really try to enjoy the date, but all you can think about is how the man in front of you is not Ransom.

-“So what’s the guy’s name?”-Mark said.

-“What do you mean?”-you said with confused look-“What guy?”

-“The one you want to see on this chair instead of me”- he said with weak smile and understanding look- “Sarah told me about you wanting to move on and forget about «the jerk», but now i see you everything but ready to move on, so please tell me about it and maybe i’ll can help”

You gasped and thought about how your friend didn’t lie about Mark being kind and maybe a little too much kind to you.

-“Listen, I don’t think it’s a good idea to discuss it right know, cause...”- you started, but get interrupted by Mark.

-“No, Y/N, I obviously can see that you not mentally here right now and that’s okay, it took me a long time to recover from my previous relationship too so i don’t wanna push you into something, you know. We can just have dinner like a good old friends and talk about our ex’s”-he smiled-“So feel free to start”

-“Okay”-you said still trying to proceed what he just said-“Well, i don’t wanna say his name and he wasn’t even my boyfriend. We just had sex with no strings attached”

-“But you get attached?”-he asked with a sad smile.

-“Yeah, and now i’m fucked”-you replied.

-“What did he say ‘bout your feelings?”-Mark asked as he sipped his wine.

-“Oh, no. I didn’t tell him about my feelings”-you said with sad eyes and tired smile-“I didn’t lost my mind completely to say to Ransom Drysdale that i love him with my whole heart and probably will never be able to not”

-“You love me?”-you heard a familiar voice behind you back and wished you could’ve just disappear.

-“I think I should go”-Mark said and hurried for the exit with a small smirk.

When you turn around you saw Ransom.

He looked worse than the last time you saw him. He looked tired and his beautiful blue eyes were full of so many things, that it confused you so much that you didn't know what to say.

-”Please, Y/N, tell me”-he said-“You love me?”-he looked so broken inside and desperate for my answer.

-“I...”-you hesitated for moment, but then decided to risk it all-“Of course i love you, Ransom, how can i not?”

-“Then why you left me?”-he said with pain in his eyes-“Left me in a middle of the night? Left me when i thought you are the one who’ll never do that.”

-“Because you didn’t”-you said with a small whimper feeling the weight on your chest again-“You didn’t loved me”

-“I did”- he said and finally you saw how red his eyes were-“And i do now”

-“Then why you didn’t tell me that? How was i supposed to know that when you started to close off every time i tried to bring something about feelings up?”-you said with a bitter feeling on you tongue.

“It was hard for me, okay? I’ve never told this to anyone before”-he said as his cheeks grew red-“Even to my mom when i was a child. I didn’t have a family when you can easily say such words”-Ransom took a deep breath before he could continue-“And then i met you and i liked you obviously. You became the light of my life. All those years I was living in a blur and never truly seeing things the way they where. I was a fool, because every time i was so afraid to ruin what we had, i wasn’t sure that you could ever feel the same. Y/N, i’m not a good guy and i’ve done a lot of bad things, but you were the only right thing in my life and i was afraid to admit it..”

You didn’t let him finish as you land your lips over his in a most gentle kiss you’ve ever had. You felt him smiling through the kiss as he was grabbing you closer and pulling you into another and more intimate kiss.

-“Is that mean i have a second chance?”-he said with a hopeful smile between the kisses.

-“No”-you said furrowing your brows only to meet his confused gaze-“Just kidding, of course you have, i don’t wanna lose you again”-you chuckled as you put your arms on his chest and looked into his ocean eyes, thinking that maybe you are the lucky one and you will be able to find out what it is like to be loved by Ransom Drysdale.

#ransom drydale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x you

[jikookuntold]

Jungkook and His Cover Songs: Is “10000 Hours” about Jimin?

Disclaimer: The following post includes theories, lyric and numeric analysis, plus my personal opinions, so please don’t take anything seriously. I’m too lazy to upload photos and videos for the moments I mentioned here, but I’m sure you know about them all. Any Jikooker must know. And I’m not Korean or a Korean culture expert, I just know as much as any Stan Twitter ARMY knows about their culture.

Anyone?

Maybe one of the biggest Jikook moments of 2021 so far, is where Jimin jumped into Jungkook’s hug, in Lee Hyun’s Vlog. But the other moment on that Vlog was even more significant; Jungkook was singing “Anyone” from Justin Bieber’s new album, and Jimin was harmonizing with him while holding on his shirt. I don’t want to mention their interview moment singing “Peaches” because I know this song is super popular in South Korea right now and somehow it doesn’t count as a moment. But it’s safe to say that Jikook has something special with his songs, and JK in particular always was invested in him. 

JK & JB

The reason behind Jungkook’s devotion to Justin Bieber was always a big question for me, and I got my answer not long time ago. Jungkook’s playlist for Melon Radio Station included a song from JB’s new album named “Lonely”. This is one of the most personal songs any artist can ever make, and JK recommended it to his audience. Here are the lyrics of “Lonely” by Justin Bieber:

Everybody knows my name now

But somethin' 'bout it still feels strange

Like lookin' in a mirror, tryna steady yourself

And seein' somebody else

And everything is not the same now

It feels like all our lives have changed

Maybe when I'm older, it'll all calm down

But it's killin' me now

What if you had it all, but nobody to call?

Maybe then you'd know me

'Cause I've had everything

But no one's listening

And that's just lonely

I'm so lonely, lonely

Everybody knows my past now

Like my house was always made of glass

And maybe that's the price you pay

For the money and fame at an early age

And everybody saw me sick

And it felt like no one gave

They criticized the things I did as an idiot kid

What if you had it all, but nobody to call?

Maybe then you'd know me

'Cause I've had everything

But no one's listening

And that's just lonely

These lyrics made me think of one specific thing, the thing that JK and JB have in common: They started their careers at a very young age, and their lives have been under the scrutiny of so many people. These people judged and criticized them but never tried to understand them. The lyrics are straightforward and leave no place for interpretation. By recommending this song, JK showed that he had (and probably still has) the same experiences in his life, and I think the reason he recommends or covers JB’s songs more than any other artist is that he has many things in common with him, and feels connected to his songs. 

This can lead us to another theory: By covering a Justin Bieber song, Jungkook shares something about himself with us, something that he can’t express directly.

Jungkook is interested in JB’s songs, but he is not the only one. As I said earlier in this post, Jimin shares the same taste with Jungkook, and my receipt is not just that “Anyone” or “Peaches” harmonizing moments, but also Jimin’s Spotify playlists. Since 2017 (or earlier, I’m not sure about this part) he has added some JB songs to his official playlist, and even his current playlist (July 2021) has two JB songs. And also let’s not forget the fact that Jikook as a subunit started in 2014 with a JB cover. Yes, I’m talking about “Mistletoe” and as you may know, Jimin translated the lyrics of this song to Korean. 

10000 Hours

Nearly 700 words and I haven’t started yet! The subject of this post was supposed to be the connections between “10000 hours” cover and Jikook but this prelude was necessary to clarify all the aspects of the topic and we find out how JB is special for JK and Jimin and how they (especially Jungkook) feel connected to him. Anyways, back to 10000 hours:

Dan + Shay and Justin Bieber released this Grammy winner song in October 2019. Here are the lyrics: 

Do you love the rain, does it make you dance

When you're drunk with your friends at a party

What's your favorite song, does it make you smile

Do you think of me?

When you close your eyes, tell me, what are you dreamin'?

Everything, I wanna know it all

I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

And I might never get there, but I'm gonna try

If it's ten thousand hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

Do you miss the road that you grew up on?

Did you get your middle name from your grandma?

When you think about your forever now, do you think of me?

When you close your eyes, tell me, what are you dreamin'?

Everything, I wanna know it all

I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours

And I might never get there, but I'm gonna try

If it's ten thousand hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

Ooh, want the good and the bad and everything in between

Ooh, gotta cure my curiosity

Ooh, yeah

I'd spend ten thousand hours and ten thousand more

Oh, if that's what it takes to learn that

Sweet heart of yours

And I might never get there, but I'm gonna try

If it's ten thousand hours or the rest of my life

I'm gonna love you

And I'm gonna love you

As you can see, the lyrics are 100% romantic, and the singers including JB, have dedicated this song to their lovers. Also, their girlfriends/wives have a cameo in the MV, which leaves no place for speculation for the context of the song: Even though the uncertainties always exist and no one knows about the future, our love is strong and will stay strong regardless of time. 

The Cover and the Theories

Nearly one year later, on July 28th, 2020, Jungkook surprised ARMYs with a short video he tweeted at 11:56 AM. That video was a 49 seconds cover of 10000 hours. A few minutes later, he deleted the tweet (apparently with the advertisement excuses, because it was tweeted from an iPhone and they have a contract with Samsung). Later that night, Jungkook released the full version on Sound Cloud and tweeted the link at 11:47 PM. 

Jikookers discovered numerous theories that day about the times of both tweets; if you add the digits of the time, the result is “13” for both tweets 1+1+4+7=13, 1+1+5+6=13, and as you already know “13” is Jikook’s magic number. Also, the first video he tweeted was 49 seconds and 4+9=13. But in my opinion, this theory is not strong. I know that numerology is very popular in Korean culture but still, all of this can be coincidences, but the other things I’m going to bring up are most likely not. 

28th July 2020 was the 7th anniversary of the first Jikook selca posted after debut. This also might be a coincidence and to be honest, it cannot be a strong link to make a connection with Jikook, but worths sharing. 

The next thing that many Jikookers also pointed out, was related to the title of the song. The lyrics say “10000 hours and 10000 more” and 20000 hours after the 28th of July is 8th November 2022. As you may know. Jikookers believe November 8th is a significant date for Jikook. I believe this can be a coincidence either, and it’s very unlikely of Jungkook to do such calculations (Koreans are interested in numbers when it comes to days and dates, but counting hours is not usual in any culture. Other than that, I’m still doubtful about the origins of the November 8th theory because we have nothing other than two tweets and G.C.F Tokyo release date and their hotel room in Tokyo which still can be coincidental). But I don’t deny these theories because even as a coincidence, it’s still very interesting. 

And the next theory is connected to the “Red Moon”. On 27th July 2018, a total lunar eclipse happened all over the world, which became known as the red moon. At that time, BTS were in Malta, and on the same night, Jikook were watching the red moon on a boat. They shared plenty of photos and videos of that moment and I’m sure as a Jikooker you have seen them all and you know that night had a very romantic mood (BigHit words, not mine) for Jikook. So, a second anniversary for that night and the day after that night can be a significant date to release a very romantic cover. Is this a coincidence too? I think we had many of them already.

And last but not least is something connected to Korean culture. You probably know that 1000 days anniversaries are very important for Koreans and they celebrate them along with real anniversaries of the important dates in their lives. And guess what? 27th July 2020 is 1000 days after 31 October 2017. This day is the day Jikook’s travel to Tokyo ended and they posted their couply mirror selca on Twitter with flower bouquet emoji. Despite the one-day difference (the same case for the red moon anniversary), this is not a minor event or small coincidence. I believe Jungkook posted “10000 hour” cover for this reason and based on this, the other theories I mentioned earlier can be true either. 

The lyrics hit different if you read them again, after knowing this fact. Right? I don’t want to make this post much longer but before wrapping up, I want to talk about the lyrics of “Anyone” by JB (the song Jikook were harmonizing in Lee Hyun’s Vlog):

Dance with me under the diamonds

See me like breath in the cold

Sleep with me here in the silence

Come kiss me, silver and gold

You say that I won't lose you

But you can't predict the future

So, just hold on like you will never let go

Yeah, if you ever move on without me

I need to make sure you know that

You are the only one I'll ever love

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Looking back on my life

You're the only good I've ever done (ever done)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone (anyone)

Not anyone

Forever's not enough time to (oh)

Love you the way that I want (love you the way that I want)

'Cause every morning I find you (oh)

I fear the day that I don't

You say that I won't lose you

But you can't predict the future

'Cause certain things are out of our control

Yeah, if you ever move on without me

I need to make sure you know that

You are the only one I'll ever love

Only one (I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Yeah, you, if it's not you it's not anyone

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Looking back on my life

You're the only good I've ever done (I've ever done)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

It's not anyone, not anyone

Oh, oh, oh, oh

If it's not you, it's not anyone

Oh, oh, oh, yeah, whoa

Yeah, you are the only one I'll ever love

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

(I gotta tell ya, gotta tell ya) gotta tell ya

Looking back on my life

You're the only good I've ever done (ever done, oh, yeah)

Yeah, you, if it's not you, it's not anyone

If you read the lyrics, you will notice that the context is very similar to “10000 hours”. It talks about the uncertainties of a beautiful love or in other words: No matter what the future brings to us, this love will last forever. 

This context of uncertainty and unknown future for a romance is a common concept in many of the songs Jungkook has covered and it’s not limited to the Justin Bieber covers he has done and maybe this concept can be the topic for my next analysis. 

#jikook #jikookanalysis #jimin #jungkook

[deniigi]

Jack and the other folks at the gym; how they met, what their relationships are like, how they are with Matt etc.

For you, anon. I have an old fic that answers all of these questions.

It’s written from the perspective of Jack’s best friend and sparring partner Rudy DeLuca.

Title: Tape

Summary: There were two generations of devils at Fogwell’s Gym

Warnings: child abuse, physical abuse, references to drug use and suicide/suicide attempts, and foster care

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

There was a famed baby at the gym at the moment and Rudy was scheming how to get it into his arms when the old man caught him leaning on the front desk and told him that he had two whole grandbabies waitin’ for him at home.

Matty took that moment to fly in from the back room where he’d been harrassing the shit out of the new ‘clerk’ (as Fogwell called him) to ask if Tina had finally popped.

Rudy was caught off guard by the image of Tina beating the shit out of Matt for that and then by the wave of nostalgia that the kid’s sudden enthusiasm bought.

“Well, look who’s here?” he drawled instead, slowly turning around towards the beast. “Where you been, neighbor?”

Matt beamed at him.

He looked good.

Happy.

Far, far too happy.  

Rudy squinted.

Matt waited a beat, then scrambled back into staff entrance and knocked shit over on the desk back there in his haste to go hide behind Fogwell.

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

That’s right, troublemaker, go hide behind Grandpa. He’ll protect you, you little shit.

The new gym baby was a full two months old. He was fat and grumpy and his papa’s pride and joy already. Rudy managed to snag an opportunity to get the thing into his arms when Bert and Kenny came in, signaling for the youths that the senior citizen shift had begun.

Fogwell was the most distinguished of the senior citizens, but, of course, he would wait his turn until the rest of them had finished lavishing attention upon his fiftieth great-grandbaby.

Baby’s papa was proud as a peacock.

“His name’s Henry,” he told Rudy, while Henry wrinkled his nose and eyes up at him.

Henry.

Ehn.

Terrible name.

“He looks like a John,” Rudy said.

Papa, who Rudy had forgotten the name of at least six times since he’d joined the gym, laughed.

“I thought about callin’ him Jack,” he said. “But my girl drew the line there.”

Ah.

Right.

This was that kid.

Kenny had gathered everyone into a group huddle in the changing room the other week to explain seriously how they all needed to avoid the fuck out of this guy. He’d said in a whisper that the guy was one of them people into vintage shit.

A hipster, he meant.

A fuckin’ hipster in their midst.

God, there were more and more of them in the gym every day.

Rudy lifted an eyebrow at baby Henry.

He didn’t deserve to be called Henry. He really did look more like a John. But, for the sake of the dead, Rudy decided that he’d squint for as hard and long as it took for him to become a Henry.

 ---

 Fogwell’s had been legendary back in the day for producing pro boxers out of good-for-nothin’, trouble-makin’ guys with no other prospects.

Fogwell was that general from Mulan who made men out of boys (and the occasional girl. And the most recent kid who said that they weren’t a guy or a gal and if anyone wanted to throw down about it, they were posting their number on the cork board by the front desk).

Back in Rudy’s youth, that had been appealing as hell. And so he’d had a swagger on into the place, thinking that maybe he would pop his guns a bit in Fogwell’s direction and get the polishing he needed to make enough money to buy his girl a ring.

On the upside, Fogwell had, in fact, noticed him. But the downside was that Rudy had had no fucking clue what that actually meant, and so three years later, he’d found himself smoking only twice a week instead of every day, drinking goddamn protein shakes, and doing a daily fuckin’ jog like a military brat.

Fogwell had no time for dumb shit. He didn’t care if you wanted to kill yourself slowly with whatever vice you picked from the basket, but if you walked into the ring with his name on your back, then you would disgrace that name on pain of divine retribution.

It was way easier just to get one step ahead of the guy’s nit-picking than to suffer his judgemental silence.

That had been Fogwell back in the day, and that was still Fogwell in the now.

But as with any force of nature, even if the old man had planted his feet and announced his intention to rest there in that place for the next two millenia, the world around him still carried on spinning around.

Fogwell’s wasn’t just a facility for churning out pros these days. It wasn’t just legendary, now.

It was a fuckin’ institution.

God help them.

They were a tourist destination. Ghost hunters, folks on buses, sports fans, teen girls with a mighty need for a vintage-lookin’ selfie. You name it. They pressed their noses up against the yellowed glass to watch the people inside break their bodies down to build them up into something money-making.

It wasn’t an unwarranted curiosity, to be fair.

Fogwell had produced twenty pro boxers in the last several decades who’d really made it. Like, really, really made it.

Bert was one of them—to literally every one of the senior citizens’ surprise.

Bert had been a empty-headed wise-guy with a porn-stache at best way back when. And like, don’t get Rudy wrong, he was still an empty-headed wise-guy. He was just an empty-headed wise guy with a head like a helmet and a whole lot of money now.

Not that you’d have known it from lookin’ at him.

Bless him.

He was paying college tuition for all his kids and he was helping the older ones vet kindergartens with tuition or what the fuck ever, doing all that he could so that those babies didn’t have to live life out of Kraft Mac ‘n Cheese boxes like him.

Bert had made it. That was the dream.

The dream was just that, though. A shot in the dark. A drop in a bucket. Kenny had done alright, just like Rudy had done alright. They’d had their ten minutes of time in the spotlight. Had made enough to get by. Had made enough to be comfortable in Hell’s Kitchen. To retire and become personal trainers or sports commentators or whatever the fuck opportunity jumped up in their faces.

A lot of fellas hadn’t made it, though. And then there were the Almosts.

Jackie had been an Almost, god rest his soul.

This new hipster kid at the gym with his baby had latched onto Jack’s image, found in old magazines and grainy footage, and had decided that that whole vibe fit the image that he wanted to live in.

It made Rudy sick. It made Kenny angry—hence the group huddle.

There were about seven of them left who’d both known Jackie and who still used the gym on the regular. Eight if you included Fogwell.

Nine if you included Matty.

Jesus fuckin’ help them.

This dumbass hipster kid didn’t even know who Matty was. Most of the newcomers didn’t. He was just some bright, perky blind guy to them. He was Center-Left-Second-Back bag. That was his bag.

And he was good.

He was a curiosity to the newcomers and the people pressed against glass—one of a handful of middle-weights in a sea of heavyweights. He didn’t look like everyone else. He wasn’t packing muscle like everyone else. He was lithe and coiled and looked, honestly, a little out of place to folks who didn’t know the gym as Home #2.

He was interesting to the newcomers mostly because he was 100% Fogwell’s favorite. Fogwell doted on him by ribbing him and bullying him viciously, by bumping into him and throwing him off mark left and right, and all the while, Matty just beamed.  

The newbies thought he got preferential treatment because he was blind. But that wasn’t it. Matty got treated that way because that was how his grandpa told him he loved him.

 ---

 Before Jake and Carlos and Omar and Matty, Jack had been Fogwell’s favorite up-and-coming rookie.

It had been no secret. Well. To most people.

Jack had been horrified when he’d found out.

No one wanted to be Fogwell’s favorite. That’s how you went pro whether you liked it or fucking not.

Jack had pleaded with Kenny for hours to take his place, but there was nothing that could be done. Jackie was the youngest and Jackie had come from a shit home life and Jackie would do anything and everything Fogwell told him to do because he was just that kind of sweet and respectful.

Fogwell could smell Jack’s lack of a father-figure on him like Chanelle No. 5.

He could smell it miles away.

Jack had actually been at the gym before Rudy had joined up. He’d been around since he was about seventeen. He’d come in on the heels of his big brother who wanted to go pro.

It quickly became apparent to Fogwell that Tom Murdock didn’t have what it took to be a boxer. He was just a bully. But that little brother of his, Tom’s punching bag, now he had some talent. He had the diligence and respect that the game, in Fogwell’s opinion, was severely lacking.

So Fogwell did what he did best and drove a wedge slowly between Tom and baby Jackie, separating the two of them so that he could get his mitts on Jackie and do something with him before Tom and his junkie sister took Jackie down with them.

Rudy had met Jack soon after Jack’s eldest brother had been arrested for murdering his wife and stepdaughter.

The kid was a wreck. He’d just turned 18.

He didn’t talk. He just fought and fought and fought until he cried and cried and cried. All on his own, from 5pm to 1am, at Center-Left-Second-Back.

Fogwell let him.

Fogwell came over to put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed when he finally dropped from exhaustion.

It was hard to watch.

The older guard at the time had bared their teeth and clenched their jaws as Jackie had pummeled his heart out against that bag.

No one could help him.

Everyone but Rudy, at that time, had seen the man he’d walked into the gym with. They’d seen this coming a mile away. And over a few days of that, it become clear to Rudy that Jack didn’t have a home to go back to that didn’t scream at him from morning until night. At that time, the gym for him was Home #1.

 ---

 It took about a year, but Rudy eventually got to know this weeping, heartbroken boy from the worst side of the Kitchen.

Rudy learned from the others about the Murdocks.

They were sinners and drunkards and addicts, word had it. The police were always in and out of their rooms, taking one of the five kids or one of the parents to jail for some damn reason or another. Neighbors wasted their hard-earned money on phone calls to the police for domestic disputes and violence and so on and so on. Everyone on the streets said to be careful of the Murdocks, especially them boys.

They got the devil in ‘em.

But not Jackie, Rudy learned.

He was shy, bless him. He wasn’t suited to those others’ kind of life.

Rudy actually had felt, for the second time in his life, strong brotherly feelings around this kid. He and his own sister didn’t get on until someone threatened the other. Then it was no-holds-barred, bear-like feelings. Just them against the world.

But Jack was different. He had puppy eyes with a constant black one and perpetually chapped lips. It had never occurred to him that he could spend a buck buying chapstick. It had never occurred to him that he could have friends that he didn’t have to smile at until his face hurt.

He didn’t really get what it meant to have relationships with other people and for the first six months of their acquaintance, Jack refused to meet Rudy’s eye, much less say more than five words to him.

He was more than respectful.

He was skittish.

The other guys, who were happy to haze Rudy, warned him that he if so much as looked at that kid, Fogwell would break his bones and his career would be over before it even started.

It had definitely turned into a kind of spite thing.

Rudy had absolutely been that kind of shithead back then.

He’d started by offering to hold Jack’s bag while he worked out his aggression. That had been a mistake.

He’d caught Fogwell snickering at him about ten minutes into it, after trying and failing that whole time to find a way to plant his feet that would let him actually hold onto the bag.

Jack had noticed.

Jack had gotten flustered and freaked out bad enough that Rudy had been forced to leave him be or else he’d hyperventilate or go hide in the backroom in a cupboard or something in self-flagellation.

It took some practice and some muscle, but they got there in the end.

Jack was a great sparring partner because he did not fucking go down. It was like trying to fight a pine tree sometimes. He would, could, and did take hit after hit without batting an eye.

And when it was his turn for offense?

Rudy was well aware that he’d signed up to be a human punching bag, but this? This was a lot.

Fogwell critiqued the fuck out of Jack’s everything.

His form.

His posture.

His aim.

His drive.

His commitment.

His tape.

His fucking hair.

Jack thought he was like that with everyone.

Rudy loved that kid like a brother, but he wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. Not by far.

That had become more clear when Kenny joined their mottley crew and, aggravatingly sharp, had taken to teasing Jack. That was more frustrating for Kenny than anyone else because Jackie didn’t get a single joke or jibe.

No, Jack didn’t know Seinfield. Or Friends. Or Charlie’s Angels. No, he didn’t know anything about cars. No, he didn’t know about physics or chemistry or math. What the fuck was English lit? Wait, what’s the difference between books and literature?

God.

Bless.

That.

Kid.

He wasn’t unintelligent, he just wasn’t academic.

He was sweet about it, though. The youngest of five, he had no choice but to be sweet because all his siblings called him hopeless and useless and stupid, so he had to be something and so pretty it was.

Rudy had never met someone who performed so well under pressure and around two years into their friendship and, suddenly privy to the full extent of Jack’s honestly horrific, borderline surreal upbringing, he finally got it.

But then along came Grace.

The Lord’s agent herself.

Jack was a good Catholic boy who saw a nun and dropped his eyes, but for some reason, this novice caught his gaze and he was gone.

He got dopey and dreamy the night after she and some friends had snuck out in their novice habits to see a load of guys in desperate need of the Lord hitting on each other.

It was tooth-decaying the way Jack swooned for that girl.

Her name was Margaret, she told him saucily at the church one street over from the one he’d grown up attending, but he could call her ‘Grace.’

Jack banged his melon on a locker a week later at the gym and the jolt make him realize that he was in love with her.

He cracked his head a second time with everyone watching him in a mix of pity, exhaustion, and indulgence and then scurried off to the bathroom to hyperventilate over a urinal.

“Someone go keep Baby M from drowning in a sink,” Horace Whalin, a professional beast at the start of his career, had sighed.

Everyone had looked right at Rudy.

 ---

 Grace was the worst thing that could ever have happened to Jack.

Everyone at the gym knew it. Fogwell hated that girl with a cold passion.

She made Jack stupider than usual. Bolder than ever.

She made him think and made him question things and like, that was probably a good thing in terms of Jack’s life experience and mental health, but in terms of boxing?

Not good.

Fogwell was openly dreaming up schemes to break them up the day Jack came tearing into the gym and announced that he was getting married.

It took everything in Rudy not to start cackling right then and there. The entire gym’s necklines bulged with the effort not to fucking laugh. Fogwell went silent and blank.

He’d waved Jack in close and and when he came—because he would always come to Fogwell, no matter what—the old man set a hand on Jack’s shoulder and told him that if he brought that woman into the gym he’d kill him.

Jack stared up at him and said that they were getting married in a church, Coach. Why would he bring her to the gym?

At that point, it would have taken a saint not to laugh and the gym was full of only sinners.

 ---

 Grace was the worst thing that had ever happened to Jack, but Matty was by far, the best thing.

Fogwell, after being vindicated upon Jack and Grace’s abrupt and tragic separation, found that Matt could be used as a motivator for his up-and-comer.

Matty, of course, played the part beautifully.

He was unfairly cute with those delicate, whispy red locks and them big hazel eyes. He was bubbly and chatty. An unrelenting troublemaker. Just a barrel of laughs.

Fogwell took to letting Jack put Matty’s carrier on a bench next to the ring or on one of the metal bleachers around the mats in the weights and sparring room. He found that if Matty started whining or crying, that Jack got twice as motivated to finish whatever task was at hand with maximum efficiency.

Matt was the best thing to ever happen to Jack’s boxing career, truly.

He also immediately became the gym’s darling because all the veterans there at that point were dads. Rudy himself had had his first girl Tina the year before, but unlike Jack, the rest of them had childcare arrangements and the money to maintain them.

 ---

 It was just natural for people to gravitate towards the baby. Out of paternal instincts, yeah, but also because Matty was a source of constant entertainment.

He called everyone uncle until he was seven and he needed to be negotiated with to leave Fogwell be until he was nine. Fogwell didn’t mind him. Fogwell had unwittingly adopted him.

Matty didn’t meet his own uncles and grandpa. Jack couldn’t bear that. He took Matty to meet Bill, Jack’s eldest brother—the one who’d killed his wife—in jail and afterwards had been heart-broken and anxious for days.

Grace did not approve, it turned out.

Grace, who went by Maggie at that point, and who had given up her rights to be the mother of Jack’s child, remained one of Jack’s closest and dearest friends.

They still loved each other, and in Fogwell’s very correct opinion, that was nothing but trouble. He snatched Matty at every opportunity and informed him softly but firmly that he was not going to fall in love with a nun when he was big or there would be consequences.

Matt seemed to have come to understand this rule over time, but he never seemed to put together pieces as to why Fogwell was so insistent about it.

 ---

 When Jack turned up murdered, everyone at the gym decided that it was their fault.

It was surreal.

Unbelieveable.

He’d been right there, just fine, laughing and smiling the day before. Rudy had held his bag and Jack had told him to tell the girls and Mel that he missed them.

And, in a moment of crushing realization back then, Rudy had understood the implications of those words and then remembered how good Jack had always been about smiling at people.

He knew how to make himself seem okay and unimportant. He knew how to fade into the background.

Fogwell took it hard.

He blamed himself for not recognizing how bad things had gotten at home for Jack and Matty. He blamed himself for not booking him for more jobs, for pushing him harder and harder on his form lately.

Matty was taken away by social services and his absence from the table at the gym the next day finally brought out the tears that Rudy hadn’t been able to let fall.

He tried.

He tried, he did.

Over the years, Matty had become a brother to Tina, Angie, and Penelope. He fit right in that two-year gap between Tina and Angie. Rudy had him over when Jack worked and Jack had the girls when Mel needed a break from the screaming and crying. And really, by then, everyone’s kids were everyone’s at the gym.

It wasn’t a matter of who belonged to who, it was more of a matter of when someone belonged to someone.

Rudy tried to get custody or at least foster rights. Mel gave herself an ulcer over it, trying to think of how to arrange things to make their home safe for Matt. Trying to think of how to make space for him. He could share a room with Tina. They were still young. They probably wouldn’t mind after some growing pains. But social services said that that wasn’t possible. Matt was too high-risk for them. They didn’t have enough experience with ‘his type of child.’

Which was bullshit.

Matt wasn’t high-risk, Matty was traumatized and scared and with people he didn’t know, who didn’t know him.

That was what made him high-risk.

He knew Rudy and Mel’s house. He knew their girls. He knew their neighborhood.

Still, nothing.

Fogwell himself tried. Shocked the shit out of everyone at the gym, but Social services sadly shook their heads.

By then, Matt had been placed out already.

 ---

 Matt disappeared for five years. Just vanished completely. There was no sight of him until one day, Tina came home and said that ‘oh yeah, I saw Matty today’ while playing with her food at the dinner table.

Rudy and Mel had set down their forks.

Tina sighed and said that he was taller now, but he didn’t look good.

He looked sick, she said. With dark rings around his eyes and broken sunglasses. He’d been sleeping, leaning against the side of some stairs out in his school uniform at the Catholic highschool a few blocks away.

She’d poked at her chicken and then set down her fork and excused herself.

Rudy stroked her hair that night as she cried into her pillow for her lost brother.

 ---

 Matt was, by fifteen, a troubled kid.

Rudy heard shouting one day from Clinton Church and stepped out to see what was happening. He was shocked to see that familiar ginger mop struggling in the arms of two cops, swearing that if these people took him back to wherever he’d come from, that he’d kill himself. He’d do it. Don’t try him.

The priest was called.

Matt was forced down to the ground and handcuffed, still fighting.

It was--it was a whole lot to see. Kenny swore softly behind him and Bert left them to go back inside. He went to the bathroom and didn’t join them out on the mats for a while.

 ---

 Fogwell decided around then that enough was enough.

He went to the church and asked if he could borrow Matt for a while. He needed some help getting his accounts together and he knew Matt was a bright kid. Giving him a little work experience in a familiar and disciplined setting would be good for him.

But Matt wasn’t there.

 ---

 The hospital didn’t allow anyone to visit Matt. He apparently hadn’t earned the privilege of visitors from anyone who wasn’t on his care team.

Rudy felt numb at the front desk.

Jack’s boy had tried to kill himself. He’d warned them all that he would do it.

He’d apparently screamed himself hoarse that he wanted to be with his dad in the ground.

He was still screaming.

This wasn’t the first time he’d done any of this, Rudy came to learn through a few whispered conversations with some nuns from St. Agnes.

Grace had found him after the three attempts the nuns knew of. This last one was just bad enough that she couldn’t bring him back from the edge.

Grace’s eldest younger sister had committed suicide. Grace had found her and then left home immediately become a novice. To find her own son as she’d once found her sister was cosmic and divine cruelty—enough that even Fogwell shook his head and said it just wasn’t right.

 ---

 The first time Rudy saw Matty after the whole situation, he looked exactly as Tina said he did. Tired. With dark circles. Thin. His clothes threatened to fall off of him. They were threadbare and had holes in them here and there.

Matty didn’t talk.

He moved his head around a lot and jerked when anyone spoke to him or brushed against him, and he scrambled back and tripped sometimes if he was touched directly.

It was like looking at a smaller, thinner version of Jack all those years ago—this time with tightly bound wrists and a hospital bracelet that looked like it had been stretched and torn and chewed on.

Fogwell asked Matt if he thought he could do something with the accounts.

Matt said nothing.

Fogwell gave him a box of receipts and bits and bobs of payment cards and IOUs and Matt had frowned and put his hand into the box to touch its feathery contents. He’d lifted his face up in Fogwell’s direction and sneered.

“You can’t seriously live like this,” he’d said in a voice that almost brought tears to Rudy’s eyes. He’d heard Kenny clear his throat behind him.

 ---

 Matty was the smartest person Rudy had ever met.

He set Fogwell’s accounts into order in an afternoon and then he fucked off for a few days, only to come back and digitize the whole thing after making the Big Man himself sit with him and read everything out individually to him as punishment for his nasty, twentieth-century ways.

Matt was disgusted with Grandpa’s living conditions.

He banged into every object in the backroom and swore like a sailor, loud enough that the folks hitting shit in the front room could hear him.

It was hard not to laugh.

“WHY?” Matt finally raged at Grandpa. “WHY. WHY. WHY?”

Grandpa shrugged.

Matt flailed at him in agitation at the lack of verbal answer and told him to get into the fartherest corner of the room and to get a pen, they were going to organize.

Matt was the reason that Fogwell’s Gym had survived for long enough to become a tourist trap.

Matt put every document in that place in order, ready for an audit. He made computer systems for payments and receipts and direct debits. He singlehandedly bullied Fogwell into the new century and made him get a card machine.

He bitched and moaned and belly-ached until Fogwell had interviewed a handful of tax people with actual, non-criminal reputations and picked one and once he was done with all that, Matt harrassed him to invest in a deep clean for the place and to make it accessible by ADA guidelines—the whole nine yards.

Matt, at fifteen, breathed new life into Fogwell’s Gym and it was kind of amazing how the place went from barely hanging on to a decent business once more.

 ---

 After that, Matt seemed to be doing a lot better.

He didn’t have any more foster home placements. He didn’t try to hurt himself again. He decided, instead, that he was going to graduate highschool. He’d failed a fuckload of classes, though. Rudy found him despairing in the backroom over these and settled in across from him and asked to see the reports.

They weren’t good.

Matty’s teachers wrote constantly that Matt was extremely bright, but failed to participate in class or turn pretty much anything in for a grade. He slept in class. He seemed dazed. He didn’t ask for help or give any indication that he needed it.

His assigned para said that she found him challenging to work with. He was resistant to questions and seemed to be angry or, at best, uninterested in her speaking to him.

He was way behind.

Rudy had tapped the reports against the table back there and had taken a deep breath.

“It’s okay,” he told Matt. “We’ve got two years. We can make this work.”

And Matty’s head had jerked up from the table.

“We?” he’d asked in a small voice.

 ---

 Matt really, really struggled with high school. Not because he wasn’t smart enough, but because his experience was so wildly different from other kids. He didn’t go home like they did. He went to St. Agnes’s. He didn’t play video games, he read books. He didn’t smoke cigarettes or joints. He didn’t drink. He was under constant surveillance.

He was bullied. Relentlessly.

Fogwell was quietly furious when Matt came in a few times a week to type away at the desk, inputting receipts for the new secretary to deal with later. Matt was always hurt. Always fighting.

He got his classwork done out of spite, seemingly, but then went home to the orphanage and got harrassed the whole way.

He fought his peers like the devil himself.

It was…

There was…

Something not quite right with him.

 ---

 Bert pointed out when Matt was seventeen that he didn’t always use his stick like other blind folks. He forgot it sometimes and wandered around the gym like anyone else.

He didn’t trip over anything or keep fingers touching the wall like he usually did in other places.

They all chocked it up to him having grown up in the place.

Matt asked Fogwell to let him train.

Center-left-second-back.

That was Jack’s bag.

That was his son’s bag.

The veteran boxers all cycled through teaching Matt how to box. He knew—they all knew Matt already knew how, but there was always shit to learn.

Except that sometimes there wasn’t?

Matt seemed to already know everything that they taught him, including the nit-picky, little things. He listened to their descriptions, let them manipulate his hands and arms and hips, and then did what they asked immediately and with perfect form.

It was eerie.

It just wasn’t right. There was just something about it that wasn’t right. Rudy couldn’t put his finger on it.

 ---

 Matt graduated highschool the year after Tina and it was only when Rudy saw the draft of the commencement program slip out of his bag on one of the benches that Rudy realized that Matty hadn’t mentioned it to anyone.

He picked up the program while Matt was attacking his bag and considered it, then did what was done in the gym and handed the program off to Fogwell who, in a booming voice, told Baby M to get the fuck over there, front and center.

Matt clung to his bag in terror at the sound. He, unlike his daddy, had the good sense to be reluctant to follow Fogwell’s orders. Eventually, with his tail between his legs, he skulked over and had his nose shoved in the program.

He pawed at it when Fogwell made him acknowledge it and mumbled something about not going.

Which was absurd.

“It’s not a big deal,” Matt said. “I’m not valedictorian or anything. It’s just highschool. And no one’s got time to go anyways, so what’s the point if it’s just me?”

God, this kid.

 ---

 Matt’s graduation was very Catholic. Far more Catholic than Tina’s had been, but when Rudy looked over his shoulder, he was pretty sure that even a school this Catholic hadn’t been prepared for the influx of nuns hurrying down from Clinton’s church, all bustling and excited about young Matthew actually getting his diploma.

Between those four (aw, Grace. Look at you trying to play it smooth) and the seven boxing families who’d shown up, Matt was embarrassed to the point of tears. He’d hidden behind his mortarboard for the thirty minutes it took for people started calling folks up on stage.

He didn’t want to come out to take any pictures afterwards, but Tina wasn’t letting that happen. Her sisters leapt on board with the program and Rudy had managed at least one picture of the four of them smiling. Even better, he had one of Matt trying desperately to keep a smile while Fogwell stood stiffly next to him in stone-faced approval.

 ---

 Matty was the first in the gym’s kid’s generation to graduate college, and then he was the only one to go on to law school.

It was only at that big graduation that Rudy finally saw Matt beaming like a loon—like he had up at Jack as a baby, but this time at the long-haired, chubby guy next to him.

This, legend had it, was the Roommate.

The one Matt refused to speak about to anyone at the gym.

Period.

At all.

There was no discussion.

That is, until he was forced by Fogwell standing menacingly over him in silent demand for a hug, to introduce them all to Foggy.

Foggy Nelson.

And then, just like that. It was exactly Jack all over again.

Veins bulging as everyone tried desperately not to laugh at Fogwell’s face at the realization that Matty had gone out and found a better, nicer Fog-person to be friends with.

 ---

 Foggy Nelson—Edward Nelson from the hardware store’s son—was not fucking good enough for Matty, Fogwell decided. He’d begun a stoic campaign to introduce Matt to every available boxer’s son and daughter in the city in the hopes that a little nudge would get Matty away from all them conniving lawyer-folk. That was all fine and well with Matt because Matt, they’d all learned after a few years in his company again, was a horrendous flirt.

God, this boy.

Incorrigible.

He flirted with Tina and Angie and Penelope and got slapped every time.

He flirted with Bert’s daughter Becka.

He flirted with Becka’s husband.

He flirted with Kenny’s son’s best friend at the son’s wedding.

He flirted with the new secretary’s sister-in-law.

He was completely unstoppable.

Kenny approved.

But Kenny also asked Matt pointedly if he and his roommate had worked things out yet and that sent Matt scowling and shuffling off to go hide behind Fogwell, wherever he was, for emotional support.

 ---

 Matt was Daredevil.

He had to be.

Everyone in the gym suspected this.

He was too good at fighting. To flexible. Too sturdy and relentless and angry to be anyone else. They all recogized his shoulders in those little blips of videos people posted online. They recognized how close he got to people from the way he get up in his bag’s imagined face.

He had some kind of superpower—some kind of 360 degree awareness was the best Rudy could describe it.

He felt like he remembered Jack freaking out about something like this a million years ago. Nattering on about super-senses in the aftermath of the accident.

Fogwell was the one who’d brought it up again after he’d noticed that Matt liked to come in at night and spar on his own.

One time, just once, he’d left one of the security cameras on, concerned that Matty might get mugged in the night on his own there.

But Matty wasn’t getting mugged anytime soon.

No, for real.

Matt was…maybe something a little beyond them.

The video Fogwell had shown the older guys before deleting it and telling everyone to mind their own fucking business had shown Matt throwing his weight at the bag—throwing legs and fists—in complicated, almost choreographed movements that spoke of lethal intent.

He moved like a weasel. Like a predator.

Like a devil.

God knew where he’d learned those moves. The boy had lived a lot of life in those few years he’d fallen off of the gym’s radar. There was no telling who he’d met or how he’d learned to be as he was, but things made a lot more sense after that.

Jackie had had a devil in him. It only made sense that his dramatic-ass kid had one, too.

Matty had made something more of himself than his daddy. In so many other things, but in this, too.

Fogwell’s Gym was protected. It was home to a devil in disguise.

 ---

 The hipster Jack-fan appeared with baby Henry a few more times before Bert asked him if he knew that his hero’s kid, who’d lived the life baby Henry was currently living, was actually a regular at the gym.

Hipster-kid gaped and fell over himself trying to ask Bert if he could meet the guy.

Bert smirked. And then waved across the place over to where Matt had just slithered in with absurd orange sneakers that he was very proud of. He was clearly on the hunt to go show Fogwell so that he could be disgusted.

He froze when Bert called his name.

The hipster’s jaw dropped.

“Matty, come tell this man about your daddy,” Bert said.

Matt stared.

Then made a sad, aborted gesture with his free hand that said that he had very important annoyances to make of himself, so could this maybe wait?

“You’re—you’re--?” the hipster stammered.

“Matt Murdock,” Matt said hurriedly. “Great to meet you? You’re the one with the kid, right? Congrats. Have either of you seen Fogwell?”

The hipster blinked.

“Uh?” he said. “Not today?”

Matt scowled.

“He’s not escaping these,” he said, tapping his way angrily back to the door. “I got him a matching set. No one is escaping them.”

The gym at large watched him stalk back out the door, tapping away furiously, no doubt on the way down the block to Fogwell’s house.

“That’s Matt Murdock?” the hipster asked.

“Man, I thought he’d be taller,” another newbie said.

“Kid, that is the least of your problems when it comes to Matt Murdock,” Bert laughed. “Now, all of you, back to work. This ain’t a dog and pony show. Go on.”

 ---

#daredevil #fic #ficlet #jack murdock

[spadejin]

could i request sfw and nsfw headcanons for dabi and hawks with a non-binary s/o?

Warnings: NSFW Under the Cut, 18+. Mentions of Public Sex. Mentions of BDSM. Slight Dirty Talk. Mentions of Exhibitionism. Mentions of Praise Kink. Oral Mentions (Giving/Receiving).

A/N: You sure can, anon! Sorry for the late submission, it’s been kinda hectic on my side lately, I hope this makes up for it, <3!

Dabi

SFW

He’s not used to being affectionate through words, so he always uses his actions to show his love for you.

Dabi isn’t really romantic, either. Don’t expect much from him unless it’s a REALLY special occasion. He doesn’t really expect you to do much as his S/O either, he’s pretty low maintenance.

He calls you a lot of pet names: Baby, Babe, Cutie, Sweet Cheeks, Sweetheart, Toots, Peaches, Angel etc.

Actually, I doubt there’s a time that he ever calls you by your name unless it’s serious.

His quirk makes him hot all of the time, so he’s basically a personal heater for you, especially when you’re outside in the winter. He’ll roll his eyes and call you clingy, but he won’t really stop you.

Dabi’s favorite place for you to sit is in his lap, no matter where you both are. In public (the rare times you both are out), around the league, or alone, he wants you in his lap with his arms around your waist.

Because of his affiliation, he tries not to be out in public too much, and that’s something you’re going to have to understand. More than likely, you’ll be aware of his position in the league, so you both usually settle for at home dates.

If you both do end up going out in public, then it’s at night.

His kisses are a bit rough, and usually unexpected. Sometimes he catches you off guard and he just yanks you back by your arm and slams his lips onto yours. You almost always get a smack delivered to your ass when he’s finished.

Dabi’s a tease. In the streets, and in the sheets, there’s no getting around that.

He’ll always say something to get you flustered, and he almost never has any shame about it.

The league is around? Who cares, he’s still getting you all worked up.

Dabi will randomly come down the hallway and corner you, getting really close to your ear to whisper something completely underwhelming for his actions.

“You’re lookin’ pretty sweet there, peaches.”

Walks away like nothing happened, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face whenever you flush at his actions.

Dabi rarely “argues,” just for the simple fact that he really doesn’t give a fuck. If you want to address him about something, then do it calmly. Otherwise, he’ll just stop listening.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a temper though. If you push his buttons enough, he’ll probably raise his voice at you a little bit if he’s stressed out.

Arguing with Dabi isn’t fun. He’s so blunt that it hurts. To add more salt in the wound, he’ll just leave after you both have said your pieces, giving you both time to reflect upon what you said. Sometimes he’ll stay gone only for a few hours. If it’s REALLY bad, he’ll stay gone for about a week or two.

However, arguments ALWAYS lead up to a “fun night.”

NSFW

Remember how I said Dabi was a tease? Yeah.

He’ll tease the hell out of you before you both even get in the bed. When you’re around Dabi, you have absolutely no choice but to get horny.

If his aura doesn’t get you going, then he will.

He’ll use his fingers to caress your body “innocently,” even though you both know that’s not his intention.

When you’re sitting on his lap, there’s a 90% chance that he’s going to start kissing you neck, and this man isn’t an amateur. Dabi knows exactly where to put his lips to make you feel good.

You’d better get up and bring him someplace private if he doesn’t pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, because he WILL start touching you in front of everyone else.

He loves leaving marks and hickeys up and down your body. You belong to him, and he wants whoever that sees these marks to know that. He refuses to let you cover them up if it isn’t necessary.

He prefers receiving oral other than giving.

Go down on him and expect your hair to be pulled at and tugged whenever you do something to please him. Don’t be surprised if he starts to thrust into your mouth, making you gag on his cock.

As stated before, he knows how to put his mouth to good use. Though he isn’t a frequent giver of oral, you’ll remember that his mouth is heavenly when he uses it on the area in between your legs.

Dabi’s pace depends on his mood, honestly.

He’s usually rough and fast when he’s impatient. If he’s feeling lazy, he’ll let you take control, but don’t get too cocky, because he doesn’t take well to teasing.

He’ll indulge you if you like dirty talking. His mouth has no filter, and the words that formulate on his tongue are sinful!

He’ll be on board with almost any kinks you have.

Degradation? You got it. Restraints? Definitely. Orgasm Denial? Fuck yeah. Overstimulation? Yep. Public Sex? Good luck getting him off you.

Dick piercings. The most prominent one he has is a Jacob’s ladder.

He wakes up horny in the middle of the night often, so be prepared to deal with that.

His favorite place to cum is probably in your mouth or on your back.

Keigo Takami (Hawks)

SFW

In contrast to Dabi, Hawks is pretty romantic, ngl.

Though he might be busy with hero work a lot, he always makes time for you. He’ll go out of his way to see you during his off times.

He basically knows your schedule.

You’re on a lunch break? Nine times out of ten he’ll drop by and pick you up to take you out to your favorite café or restaurant.

Sometimes in the morning he’ll bring you coffee or tea if that’s what you like. Maybe one of your favorite snacks.

He’s known for meeting you after work just to make sure you get home safely.

Sends you frequent texts to check up on you. He’ll remind you to eat, take meds, drink plenty of water, and all that jazz.

He’s also a frequent pet name user. Some are general, some are kind of biased. Babe, Love, Darling, Honey, Sweets; Baby bird, Songbird (Yagami Yato, anyone?), My Little Feather, Chickadee, Hatchling, etc.

I can see him calling you “Kid” pretty often if you’re younger than he is.

Hope you’re not afraid of heights, because he likes flying around with you in his arms. However, if you are scared of heights, then he’ll leave you on ground. He wouldn’t want you to have a heart attack.

Hawks is pretty clingy. He loves being around you. He’ll pull you in his lap, lay his head on your lap, sling an arm around your waist/shoulder, etc. He has no idea what personal space is.

He’s also always kissing you. Expect about a thousand kisses a day from him. He’ll kiss your cheeks, your jaw, your forehead, your nose… Everywhere!

Whenever you both are walking together, he’s always holding your hand, tugging you behind him or letting you drag him around.

He pays you a lot of causal compliments.

“Babe, you’re dressed up all nice. Are you trying to impress me or something, kid?”

He’s always thinking about you, and he lets you know that.

He has a fairly good memory when it comes to you. If you tell him something once, he’ll more than likely remember it for next time. This comes in handy whenever he gives you gifts.

If you both are on a date together and you mention that you like something in a store, it’ll probably appear on your nightstand within a few hours/days.

Not many things ruffle his feathers (literally), so he probably won’t get into a serious argument with you. He’ll probably just call you silly for being upset. Honestly, there’s probably not much you can get mad at him for anyways. I can only think of him being way too playful.

Hawks may be calm and laid back, but you’re probably one of the few people that can make him excited. His wings probably flutter when he’s excited too. Big baby.

NSFW

Hawks is a switch. A HARD switch.

Sometimes he’ll want to dominate the hell out of you and trap you under him while you squirm with anticipation. His expression is either very serious, or hella playful.

If he’s feeling playful, he’ll tease you.

“What’s that look on your face baby bird? You’re squirming around like you want more.”

If he’s being serious, good luck dealing with him. He’s only ever serious when he gets jealous, which is NOT often.

“You’ve been a naughty one today, babe. I’ll show you who you belong to.”

His voice doesn’t help his dirty talk. His tone is just naturally teasing and smooth, so when he starts talking like THAT, you can’t help but to get all excited.

Though he’s a bratty bottom, he usually turns out to be a whiny submissive. He’ll act like whatever you do doesn’t faze him in the beginning, but he’ll eventually break and start begging.

His wings are sensitive. If you caress them out of nowhere, he immediately melts and moans, submitting easily to your touch. He’ll flinch, trembling under your fingers and his wings will flutter away whenever you stroke them.

Hawks also has a huge praise kink, giving and receiving Tell him how good he looks pleasing you, or while you’re pleasing him, tell him how good he sounds and that the facial expressions he makes turn you on.

He prefers giving oral as opposed to receiving it, but he’ll never turn down some good head.

He likes hearing the sounds you make for him as he’s using his mouth and tongue on you.

Hawks is also a big fan of quickies. Sometimes he needs some quick satisfaction in the middle of a busy day, so if he gets his hands on you, you might as well just let it happen or you’ll be in for it that night.

He likes to release inside of you. Inside of your hole, or inside of your mouth, it’s just whatever he feels like doing at that moment.

When Hawks is feeling particularly loving, he’ll be slow and caring. He’s very sensual, and it’s been a long time since he’s done something sexual with someone he actually loves. He pulls you close and looks into your eyes as he slides his cock in and out of you.

He probably has a thing for dry humping/grinding. He likes the feeling of cumming in his pants because of you.

He’s really good at phone sex, so you should be cautious whenever you answer calls from him. He’ll just come out of nowhere with it, and get you all desperate to see him later.

In addition to this, he likes sexting too, and he will usually start off with sending you a picture of himself. Perhaps it’ll be a picture of him fully clothed with his bulge clearly visible, straining against his pants. OR he’ll send you a straight up nude, cock dripping precum and everything.

#Dabi #Dabi x Reader #Dabi x Reader Smut #Dabi Smut #Dabi Lemon #Hawks x Reader #Hawks #Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami x Reader #Hawks Smut #Hawks Lemon #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha headcanons #mha scenarios #mha imagines #mha smut #bnha lemon #mha lemon #Katsuki Bakugo #Bakugo x reader #Bakugo Headcanons #Todoroki x Reader #Todoroki Headcanons #Midoriya x Reader #Midoriya headcanons

[hawkbucks]

Prompt: AU where everything is the same except Howard wasn’t Uber-rich and Tony built SI ground up, focusing on clean energy and science and tech and Bucky meets him for the first time at the expo. (Nat can be his PA?) (modern setting AU?)

“What the fuck!” Bucky exclaims as he drops the laminated badge on the table. He stares at it in disbelief, ignoring Steve’s snickering. Then, he picks it back up and holds it up to the light coming in through one of the windows, scrutinizing it like a hundred dollar bill. His name is typed neatly in the middle, a string of words underneath declaring him to be a VIP pass holder which, holy shit. General admission tickets are hard enough to come by—they’re surprisingly cheap and, by that virtue, sell out faster than Bucky can recite the Stark Industries motto, but VIP passes? Those are usually reserved for rich tech enthusiasts. Insiders. CEO’s of the damn companies that went to the Expo to do some schmoozing, grandstanding, and bragging. People who are people. Not someone like… him.

“Nat thought you would like it,” Steve says, patting him on the back and picking up the now discarded box the badge came in. “Said that it’s her apology for not being able to celebrate with us today.”

“Natasha got me this?” He waves the badge around, wide-eyed, the laminate making wobbly noises with each pass back and forth. “How the hell did she afford it?”

Steve’s genial smile fades away, replaced by furrowed brows and a small frown. “She’s… Tony Stark’s PA.”

“What? Since fuckin’ when?” Last time Bucky checked, Natasha was still working in that old record store down the street with Sam and definitely not working as the personal assistant of one of the most influential men in the world of technology. Maybe the most influential, if Bucky is allowed to be a fanboy.

“Since 2 weeks ago?” Steve tilts his head to the side like a confused puppy. “Remember when she brought you that mug? She said that she told you right after.”

Bucky ponders for a second. “She might’ve, but honestly, I was distracted by th’ mug,” he admits sheepishly. It was a very good mug, in his opinion. It had Tony Stark’s signature printed on it, along with their signature arc reactor logo (and, given the chance, Bucky could gush all day long about the arc reactor and the sheer brilliance behind it, but so far no one has been willing to sit down and listen to that).

Steve sighs. “Why am I not surprised?”

(As he scrolls through his Twitter feed before bedtime, he’s immediately hit by the memory of him fawning over Stark’s appearance in a video uploaded by Stark Industries a week ago. Natasha was visiting, humming as she listened to his adjective-filled rant.

Natasha heard him say that her boss has killer thighs and pretty lips.

He grabs one of his pillows and slams it down over his face, hoping that if he stays in that position long enough, he’d suffocate.)

“I don’t know what to wear,” he moans, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“It’s a convention,” Sam says, throwing him a sidelong look, “not a date.”

He lifts his arm up just enough to glare at Sam. Judging by Sam’s shit-eating grin, however, it’s not very effective. “Exposition,” he corrects. Blegh, he’s starting to sound like one of those pretentious technobabble YouTubers. “It’s an exposition, and I’d rather not go there lookin’ like I was thrown into a washer with my clothes and came out wearin’ whatever stuck.” He breathes in deeply. “And did you know that Nat is Stark’s PA?”

Sam laughs. “Dude, she told me that before she even went in for the interview. She was confident and, hey—” he shrugs his shoulders— “it worked.”

Bucky grunts. “Unfortunately. Or fortunately.” Without her, he wouldn’t have that pass, even if it is proving to be more of an inducer of anxiety than excitement. “Now are you goin’ to help me pick out an outfit or what?”

“Or what,” Sam snickers.

“No, no, the grey one would be better. It brings out your eyes,” Sam comments, leaning against the doorway and watching as Bucky takes off a dusty mauve long sleeve and replaces it with a dark grey button-up.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow. “What happened to not helpin’ me pick out an outfit?”

“I thought about it, and, man… I can’t let you go out looking like a hot mess ‘cause you didn’t get my advice. I’d feel bad.” Sam crosses his arms. “Especially when you’re gonna meet your crush.” He wiggles his eyebrows and deftly dodges the discarded mauve long sleeve that Bucky launches his way.

“S’not a crush,” Bucky hisses, “and the pass isn’t a guarantee that I’ll meet him.”

Sam snorts. “It’s not a crush, you say, as if I haven’t had to listen to you go on and on about how Stark’s revolutionizing clean tech or how he’s donated, like, 3 gajillion bucks to a water charity. And c’mon, Nat’s his PA. You’d be lucky if she didn’t come up with a plan to keep him near you for every damn second you’re at that expo.”

As much as Bucky hates to admit it, Sam does have a point. Nat is notorious for meddling in their love lives for her own amusement, and she has concrete and definite proof that Bucky finds a modicum of attractiveness in Stark. He covers up a pained groan with one hand. Is it too late to send the badge back?

He is horribly, painfully aware that his expression must resemble a fish out of water as he steps into the admissions line. Double-check, triple-check. He has his ID, the badge, and his debit card just in case. Plus his phone, a portable charger, and its actual charger if he’s able to find the time to sit down. A backpack is slung over his shoulders, decorated with pins of his favorite sci-fi shows and a couple superheroes.

The smile he gives to the woman checking his items in is shaky at best, but he finds himself comforted when she picks up on his nervousness and tells him that there’s nothing to worry about, go and enjoy yourself now.

He clips the badge onto his front pocket and tries not to trip over his own feet as he enters the exhibition hall.

Pym Technologies is too busy showing off some sort of shrinking-slash-enlargening formula and he’s too busy trying to desperately not let his mind wander into the gutter to notice Natasha stepping up behind him.

“James,” she says, hand clamping down on his shoulder.

He does not yelp, thank you very much, but he does whirl around quicker than what should be humanly possible and levels her with one of his frowns.

“Grey looks nice on you,” she comments, ignoring his sour face. “It makes your eyes pop.”

“Sam helped.” His gaze flickers down to the clipboard that she’s cradling in one arm, then to the official-looking nametag that she has hanging from a lanyard around her neck. “An’… thanks for the pass.”

“It’s the least I could do for one of my best friends.”

Bucky narrows his eyes as Natasha’s sparkle. That sentence is so not Natasha that his gut is telling him that either a) Natasha has been replaced with a remarkable lookalike who is still trying to get the hang of it or b) she’s about to pull something devious and amuse herself at his expense. Going off the amount of time that he’s known her for, he’s assuming it’s option b.

She looks down at her watch that Bucky is pretty sure is non-functional and says, “I have to go, but you should come by the Stark Industries presentation area at 2. We’re not due to present until 3:30, but your pass will let you in.” She winks, and Bucky knows that should really means you better come or I will hunt you down and not even Steve could save you from my fury.

Each step he takes towards the Stark Industries presentation area feels like another step towards his demise. He can’t help the pounding in his chest or the way his arms start to turn into jelly. He can’t help the sweat threatening to fall from his brow or his knees valiantly attempting to give out. He has a sneaking suspicion in the back of his mind of what Natasha has planned, and he thinks back to what Sam said earlier about how Natasha would not let a second pass where he and Stark were not in close proximity.

He doesn’t even notice that he’s arrived until an arm clad in a black sleeve collides with his chest. He looks up, startled, at a stocky man with a severe expression. “You’re not allowed back here, buddy,” the man says, a firm crease between his brows.

“Uh.” Bucky fumbles with his badge before holding it up. “My friend said that my pass would let me in.”

“Well, your friend was wrong.” The man crosses his arms. “You should get going before—”

“Let him through, Happy.” In swoops Natasha in all her glory, looking like a fiery-haired angel sent down from the heavens. “I told him to come.”

The man—Happy, which is an unfitting nickname if Bucky’s ever heard one (and he’s heard a lot)—stares at him long enough that he contemplates leaving the exposition and quite possibly the country, before grumbling something unintelligible and stepping to the side.

He steps through, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t relax until he’s face-to-face with Natasha. “M’here. Like you told me to be.”

“Color me impressed. I thought you’d ditch.”

He snorts. “And risk havin’ you hunt me down ‘til I die? No thanks.”

“Smart.” She turns around, nearly whipping him in the face with her hair. “Now follow me. I have someone I want you to meet.”

Oh, god no, he thinks as he trails behind Natasha like a duckling. Her heels clack against the polished floor. People scramble to get out of her way, and, judging by the smirk she gives him over her shoulder, she enjoys it. “Tony!” she calls out as they approach a figure with a turned back and no, no, don’t turn around, don’t turn around, do—

and Stark turns around and he has to fight down a weird sobbing noise because Stark manages to look even better in person. Fierce intelligence glitters in his eyes and there’s an ever present curl to his lips, like he’s thought of a joke that he wouldn’t mind sharing if you asked nicely. “Romanoff!” he calls back. “My favorite PA.” Stark locks eyes with Bucky and he holds that gaze for just a moment before tearing away and focusing on Natasha.

“Please, you say that to all your PA’s.” Natasha pats Bucky’s back a bit harder than necessary. “Do you remember that friend I told you about? The one who is a fan of yours? This is him. His name is James and he is very excited to be here.” She lets her hand wander down to his side and pinches him lightly. You talk to him, he can hear her say in his head, because I do not want you to go home and mope to Steve about how you couldn’t. (Is Natasha actually telepathic or has he hanged around her enough that he has adopted a mini-Natasha in his mind? He doesn’t know and at this point he’s too afraid to ask.)

“And I’m very excited to meet him,” Stark says with a wink. Bucky wonders if he died somewhere along the way, because there is no way that Tony Stark just winked at him. Stark sticks his right hand out for a handshake.

Bucky swallows down his anxious thoughts before clasping his left hand with Stark’s right and giving it one, two, three quick shakes. They withdraw, and Bucky tries not to think about the fact that he already misses the weight of Stark’s hand in his own.

“Firm grip,” Stark whistles, and Bucky feels heat rise up on his cheeks. “Stark-made?”

Bucky rolls his left arm—his prosthetic that he’s been wearing since he’s come home from the military. “Baintronics.” Even if he wanted a Stark Industries prosthetic, Baintronics was the one with the military contract.

“Least it’s not Hammer,” Stark jokes.

Bucky chuckles, and that turns into him biting down on his lower lip when Stark smiles, pleased that he was able to draw a reaction. He really doesn’t need to be blurting out something like your smile is so pretty, please let me buy you lunch or I’ve admired you ever since you were in the newspaper for making an advanced medical drone at the age of 18, you’re so smart, please let me buy you lunch or I appreciate the fact that you donate so much to clean energy coalitions, please let me buy you lunch or anything else that would end in him extending an invitation to Stark for lunch. He might be a bit hungry.

“But you know,” Stark starts, taking Bucky out of all of his lunch-related thoughts, “we are starting a round of clinical trials for a new prosthetic designed by yours truly. It’s supposed to introduce finer motor control—sew some thread through a needle kind of fine, if my prototypes are to be believed—and the touch receptors are a thousands times more sensitive. You should be able to feel the ridges on the side of a penny!” Stark beams, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “The installation, though, would be a lengthy process—hopefully not too painful, I’m trying hard not to make it that way, and we won’t be able to get you fitted with one right away, but if it sounds like something you’re interested in, I can, uh… you can sign up. I can’t guarantee that you’ll be picked, but…” Stark looks at him with something like hope glittering in his eyes. “If you want.”  

Bucky considers Stark’s offer for all of 5 seconds before going, “Yes. Yeah. I know you’re not promisin’ it, but if I do end up gettin’ it, it’d be a hell of a lot better than this weighty thing.” He rolls his left shoulder, wincing as the anchor point tugs at his skin.

Stark hums and nods, a flicker of concern crossing his face when Bucky winces. “Much better.” He turns to look at Natasha. “Mark him down, will you, Nat?”

Natasha smiles graciously, whipping a pen out from god knows where, and scribbles something down on her clipboard. “His name is down, Tony. I took the liberty of adding his number, too. Now if you excuse me, Ms. Potts has just arrived and if I remember correctly, you asked me to escort her here.” She bows out of the conversation, subtly jabbing Bucky with her pen as she does so.

“Don’t forget to give her the slice of cake I saved!” Stark shouts as Natasha walks away.

“I never forget, Mr. Stark,” Natasha replies at a much quieter volume.

“She really doesn’t,” Stark comments to Bucky, shaking his head with a fond look on his face (and no, Bucky is not jealous that it isn’t directed towards him). “A true miracle worker. So, James—” and that bright smile is back on his face— “care to talk a bit longer?”

Bucky still isn’t entirely sure if this is a lucid fever dream that he’s having or not, because out of everyone that Tony can talk to, like Rumiko Fujikawa, the runner of one of the most popular tech-focused YouTube channels on the face of the planet, or Reed Richards, the founder of the ambitious Future Foundation, he chooses to talk to him. Plain James Barnes.

It’s mind-boggling.

And seeing this side of Tony Stark? Where he’s relaxed, his tie loosened with no qualms on questioning whether Anakin’s midi-chlorian count would’ve shrunk due to losing a good chunk of his body or whether his blood would simply make more to make up for it while they lounge on a couch that’s too comfortable for its own good? Well…

Bucky clears his throat, cutting Stark off mid-rant. “In Empire of Dreams, Lucas says that if Anakin didn’t get, uh, cut in half on Mustafar, he would’ve been as twice as powerful as Palpatine, so, yeah, I’d say that he lost some of his midi-chlorians.”

Stark stares at him. He looks down at his lap, unsure if he should’ve said that or if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. “God,” Stark breathes out, “I could kiss you right now.”

Those words send a jolt of electricity down Bucky’s spine; he’s stunned into silence.

“Sorry. Sorry, that probably made you uncomfortable.” Stark waves a hand, a pink tinge appearing on his cheeks. “I’m just—I’m not used to anyone listening when I talk about this stuff, so having you respond… I don’t have a filter. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky says quickly. “S’flatterin’. Never had anyone want to kiss me after a conversation about Star Wars.” Sam did want to do something to him after he forced him to sit through a marathon of the entire series, but he’s pretty sure that that want was the want to strangle him with a plastic bag as opposed to kissing him.

“Maybe you just hang out with the wrong people,” Stark teases.

“I should tell Natasha you said that.”

“Perish the thought.” Stark grabs a handful of pretzels from the bowl set out in front of them by an intern more than likely wanting to get on Stark’s good side. “Anything you’re particularly looking forward to this Expo?” he asks, popping a pretzel into his mouth.

“Pretty much just SI’s presentation,” Bucky admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, Pym’s formula sounds promisin’, but… god, I must sound like a kiss-ass right now.”

“Keep going,” Stark says around a mouthful of pretzel, “it’s doing wonders for my ego.”

Bucky laughs, shoulders becoming less stiff. “Yeah. SI. I’ve been keeping up with your progress on the miniature arc reactors. S’probably the one thing that I’m real into right now.”

Stark leans forward. “The arc reactors?” he asks, intrigued.

“Yeah. They’re small, but they have so much energy in them, you know? 8 gigajoules per second, man,” Bucky whistles. “That’s pretty damn amazin’. Could probably run Times Square for a couple of weeks.”

“More like a couple of hours,” Stark chuckles. “If you ever want to see them up close, I’m sure I can arrange something.”

Bucky can’t stop his jaw from dropping. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. We actually have the big one that powers Stark Tower on display for the people that take the tours, but you said you were interested in the minis…” Stark trails off, tapping his chin with his index finger. “Well, Nat… Nat trusts you, so I think it’s fine if I trust you. I wouldn’t mind bringing you down to show you the minis. ‘Course you’d have to sign some NDAs and go through some security, but, honestly? You seem way more excited and into this than the other people I’ve showed them to. Pretty sure they just want to brag about how the Tony Stark gave them the nickel tour as opposed to being genuinely curious about the science behind the reactors.” Stark leans back into the cushions. “You’re a breath of fresh air, James.”

“Bucky.”

“Hm?”

“You can call me Bucky. It’s what my friends call me.”

Stark throws him a pretzel which he thankfully catches. “And are we friends, Bucky?” he asks with that curl to his lips again.

Bucky barely represses a shudder at the way his nickname rolls off Stark’s tongue so casually, like it was meant to be there. “If—If you want to be.”

“Then we are.” Stark rolls his shoulders and allows himself to sink further into the couch. “I’d also have to insist on you calling me Tony, by the way. Stark is too formal. Because we’re friends.”

Bucky smiles. “Okay, Tony.”

“And, since we’re friends, why don’t you come out with us to dinner? Nothing too fancy, I promise, just some burgers and a milkshake. You up for it?”

Oh, god. He’s gonna have to pay Natasha back big time. Buy her some expensive knife that she’s been eyeing or something. Clean her apartment for a week. Grill her those steaks he makes that she likes so much. To have been given the chance to take Tony off of the pedestal that he built for him and be shown that he’s very much human, then to be given another chance to talk to Tony along with being offered a glimpse at the arc reactors, then to be invited out to dinner by the man himself… damn. “Burgers and a milkshake sounds good. Fries?”

“What meal would be complete without it?” Tony looks at his watch. “I’ve gotta head off to makeup now—they’re gonna make me look all pretty—but I’m gonna be looking for you when I present, okay? Ask Happy to bring you to the front row.” He takes his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to Bucky. “If you’re fine with it, can you give me your number? I need a way to contact you for the arc reactor thing.”

Bucky hopes his hands aren’t shaking as he adds himself into Tony Stark’s contact list under “Bucky :)”. He hands it back to Tony, careful not to drop it.

“Thank you,” Tony singsongs and stuffs his phone back into his pocket. “I’ll hopefully see you later, Bucky.” He mock salutes him and ff Tony goes, a woman with a black apron and a brush immediately magnetizing to his side the second he gets more than a few steps away from the couch.

As he watches Tony leave, Bucky suddenly remembers that Natasha had already put his number down.

#filled #old posts #3 #4 #5 #winteriron

[spidermandni]

𝑤𝑖𝑠ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 — 𝑡𝑠𝑢𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑎 𝑘𝑒𝑖

note — this is a fem!reader oneshot but if i do actually write more of these, they’ll just be gender neutral. this is also really messy because it’s the first time i’ve done something like this.. anyway, i hope you enjoy it! WAIT I FORGOT TO ADD THAT THIS IS BASED OFF OF WISH YOU WERE SOBER BY CONAN GRAY!! okay bye <3

pt two

word count — 1958 words

tsukishima kei has a crush on you, one of his best friends

it’s sort of obvious to everyone except for you, which is really cliché but hey !!!

he can’t ignore his feelings and you’re very oblivious to the point where it’s ridiculous

an example? tsukishima will literally stare at you for like 10 whole minutes during class and you’ll finally look up from your desk but when you catch him

all you do is give him the biggest grin before going back to work which makes him wanna slam his head into his desk repeatedly

he’ll even compliment you and buy little snacks for you during breaks at school

“[last name], here. i got you that dumb chocolate snack you like...”

and you would turn from yamaguchi and look at tsukki like he was the one who put all the stars in the sky

“you... you got my favorite snack for me?” here you go tearing up and him refusing to make eye contact while holding his hand out

you immediately stand up give him a giant hug and stuff your face into his chest, he grunts and rolls his eyes before shaking you off and dropping the snack on your lunch box

a tiny bit of blush is visible on his face and yamaguchi snickers on the side

“hey, [last name]. your, uh, your hair looks cute today.” he stares at his feet as the three of you are walking to school together

“woooow, so i don’t look cute every day, tsukki?” you turn to him with a slight smirk on his face. he shoves you and scoffs, “shut up before i take it back, dummy.”

you’re just purely oblivious to every attempt he made to get farther with you,

this was the farthest he was gonna be able to get anyway seeing as he was a very awkward person when it came to dating and things like that.

tsukishima isn’t that type of person to socialize with a lot of people but you were. you’re that type of friend that would see one of your friends in the hallway while walking with tsukki and strike up a random conversation while he’s standing there awkwardly

but you refused to let tsukki continue to be that person 😡

which is why you were now begging him to go with you to one of the pre-summer parties!!!

“c’mon, tsukki, pleeeeeease! pretty please with a cherry on top!” you tug at his shirt and give him a puppy dog eye expression while he was dragging the both of you to the cafeteria

“no.” your jaw drops and you scoff, “why noooooot? you never go to parties with yamaguchi and i.” you give him the look again as soon as he looks down at you which causes him to whip his head back up

a noticeable blush on his face while he grumbles under his breath. “what?” you quirk your eyebrow at him

“because i don’t know anybody you know!” he stops walking and stuffs his hands into his pockets

you gasp and pout once again (it’s your thing), “yes you do! it’s kuroo’s party!!” he rolls his eyes (and that’s his thing hehe) before walking off again with you falling behind

“please, please! i won’t ask for anything else ever again! i promise, i really do like i’m serious this time!” you were now pleading in the middle of the hallway which had several people staring at you like you were out of your mind

“you said that last time when you begged me last minute to help you study for our math exam.”

“well-” he cuts you off, “and when you wanted to go get milkshakes at 1am.” you wince and try to argue against him

“but-” you groan as he lists another example, “also that one time when you begged me to watch that new horror movie with you because you were scared to go alone.”

“okay! okay! that was not my fault! there were a lot of jumpscares so i needed you! but this is different, i really do promise. pleeease, i won’t ask for anything e-”

“fuck! fine, i’ll go. just stop talking about it.” you squeal and throw your arms around him. “thank you, thank you, thank you, tha-” he flicks you in the forehead and you jump back but the grin was still visible on your face

“hurry up, yamaguchi is waiting.” he stares at the ceiling while walking but you just kept rambling on about the party

a few days later when it was finally friday night, you face timed tsukishima and as soon as he answered you shrieked

“ooooooo, tsukki! who you lookin’ cute for?” you give him a smile paired with a wink.

“when are we supposed to be there?” he ignores your question and gives you an annoyed look.

“in like thirty minutes! yama is catchin' a ride with suga, daichi, hinata, and kags. they told me to just go with you, i guess they don’t enjoy my company.” you let out an artificial weep while clutching your invisible pearls.

he chuckles while staring at your expression, “well you saying that sounds like you don’t enjoy my company, so maybe i’ll just go alone-”

“nope, see you in a few, love you!”

tsukishima heard the familiar sounds that play after a facetime call ends and he sighs

after a few minutes of preparing to go get you and what to say, he finally heads out. when he finally arrives outside your home, tsukishima rests his head on the steering wheel.

what the fuck is he gonna do at this party?

he can’t just stay by your side the whole time... or can he? NO! he can’t, you probably wouldn’t allow it and force him to socialize.

tsukishima huffs and eventually decides to pull himself out of his car to retrieve you. as soon as he knocks, somebody screams “i’m coming!” and stomping is heard.

the door is swung open and you’re stood there in all your glory. the blonde boy can feel his heart stop and it feels as if he literally stopped breathing. you look really pretty, like really, really pretty.

you’re wearing baggy ripped jeans that sort of clings to your waist with a rainbow crop top and it’s paired with boots that are barely visible because of the jeans. an accidental “wow.” flows from the tall boy’s lips

“what? do i look cute?” a wide grin appears on your face as you spin to show off your look

he covers the bottom half of his face and it’s barely audible when he says “you look pretty.” you giggle and push at his shoulder, “better be careful, tsukki! you might fall in love with me!”

when you finish your sentence, you throw a kiss his way and he just walks back to his car before you catch him looking like a tomato. “wait! wait, wait!”

you quickly close and lock your front door to chase after him. he opens the passenger seat door and waits for you to get inside before closing it. “woooooah! tsukki is becoming a gentleman now!”

“shut up.” and the drive begins to kuroo’s house. it doesn’t take long because you both just begin talking about anything that comes to mind and when you finally get there, a bunch of greetings is said.

immediately, you’re both separated and talking to different people. there were moments when you crossed paths but you were on the other side of the room, downing drinks with your other friends

and whenever he tried to make his way towards you, yamaguchi would drag him to do some random activity like play beer pong or whatever

time had passed and though tsukishima didn’t know how much, he was already tired. he felt somebody’s hand latch onto his arm and begin pulling him towards a room

“tsukishima, c’mon! we’re playing spin the bottle!” your hand clutches harder as you turn to look at him and you have a soft flush on your face along with a small smile

there was a large group in the living room playing childish games in a circle as you pulled him down and he plops with you. “let’s go! tsukishima is finally livin' a little.” bokuto screams and throws his hands

“only because [last name] is forcing him.” hinata says and gets nudged by yachi with a light glare. the game begins and a bunch of random kisses are shared. kuroo and bokuto, shimizu and akaashi, and sawamura with a girl he didn’t know

finally someone had spun the bottle and it landed on tsukishima, but you squealed out of anger. “absolutely not!”

kuroo cackles, “why not, [last name]?” everyone starts giggling while some are waiting to see what you argue with

“tsukki can’t kiss anyone but me!” you cross your arms across your chest and turn to stare tsukishima down with intimidation which, clearly, wasn’t working as few started bursting into laughter

yachi is looking at you with wide eyes, sugawara has his head in his hands, and kageyama is wheezing at tsukishima’s flustered expression.

“hey! tsukishima, seems like [last name] has a big crush on you!” nishinoya snickers while tanaka is sitting beside him losing his mind.

tsukki scoffs and stands the both of you up, “i’m going to take her home before she embarrasses herself. good night, don’t do anything stupid.”

“we won’t!” “we’ll try!” and with that, he was off while dragging you to his car with him

“awe... tsukki, does that mean you don’t wanna kiss me?” he can actually hear the pout in your voice. “that’s not it, [last name]. j-just be quiet.”

he began playing music to keep you occupied during the car ride back to your home as he thought about what the literal fuck just happened.

when he finally pulled up at your house, he went to your side to let you out but you started making grabby hands at him which obviously meant: you weren’t getting out this car unless he carried you.

a few minutes later and after a bit of arguing, the tall boy was now holding an already asleep girl in his arms like you were a toddler. you had given him your house key before just incase so it was easy for him to get you inside.

he helped you change into your pajamas and prepared headache pills and water for you in the morning when you would wake up with a hard hitting headache along with a tiny note on the side. he gave a light kiss to your forehead before leaving.

as soon as he reached his home, tsukishima cleaned himself up before laying down to rest.

he sighs as he lays there because fuck. he’s really in love with the cutest idiot on earth.

now he regrets leaving that note, and he’s stressing over the fact that he had too much confidence in that moment.

tsukishima eventually, after 30 minutes of overthinking, falls asleep.

when you rise in the morning, you look an absolute mess. you groan with a grumble of annoyance and turn on your side to see what tsukishima left.

immediately, flashbacks of last night come to your brain. you stuff your face into your pillow as you let out an embarrassed scream.

you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your best friend.

after wallowing in self pity for a few minutes, you reach for the pills and the water and finish them off.

when you’re done and turn back over to see if he left anything else, you see the note and grab it with swiftness.

What you said was really sweet but I wish you were sober when you said it. - Tsukishima Kei

#♡ — anime #✰ — my writing #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyū imagines #haikyū imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu!! fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyū x reader #tsukishima x black reader #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu!! x black reader

[selimunfridhirako]

Shinji Hirako x Reader

💜 The First Date💜

A/N: I haven't been writing much and I do deeply apologize for that, again this is my secondary account, my first is @targaryens-blog I'm no longer allowing submissions no longer accepting requests at this time but for selimunfridhirako I'll have the ask box open if anyone would like to send anons just chatting or discussing topics. now that's out of the way I am taking a break from writing bnha/mha and will be focusing on creating Bleach content! I'll be tagging a few of my favorite bleach blogs I've found while trying to find good ol bleach content writers and here's a few to list^^@shinji-slut @sexintheseireitei @seireiteisins @hirako5hinji @buriedinbleach @jazzandzanpakutos @theseireitei @thesecondcircleofkel

First I know none of us talk I'm just simply a fan of all your works and you all inspired me to write bleach again your all my favs and truly hope you never give up writing for your favorite fandoms. This is my first official time writing for Shinji Hirako and I guarantee it won't be as good lol but that's the point! I just wanna write whether it's good or not. Please enjoy this scenario! Also tagging @so---ft & @fi16ns ! Much love

-Tara

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Word count: 17k

Warnings ⚠️: minor Alcohol use

Pairing: Shinji Hirako x Fem reader

Prompt: You finally worked the courage to ask Shinji on a date after years of pinning after the male. How will this might turn out?

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*You shouldn't be this nervous. Twiddling your thumbs and eyes down casted. Your head soon followed the sound of Shinji's voice, complaining about being hungry. You giggled mostly to yourself before sighing. Your heart soars everytime he's near, shake your head when hiyori and him are having their little spats, you go out of your way to even bring the blonde new magazines to read for his downtime. Way more than you'd like to admit. Your friend nudges you and smiles. "Just ask him if you guys can talk privately, it'll be okay." They say. Oh how easy you wish it could actually be. To work up such a courageous act to simply ask a man on a date. It'd be much easier if he would do it instead. Girls don't ask boys out, do they?. Finally after minutes chewing on your bottom lip you finally stood from where you sat and casually sauntered over to where he was sitting on the couch. Face in hand, his light brown eyes scanned the room before landing on your frame. He noticed you're tense shoulders and opted to sit upright and his attention on you to hopefully ease you Of whatever nervousness you're feeling. "Shinji.. Can we go outside and talk?." He smiles sweetly before placing his magazine on the couch, forgotten and getting up to follow you out. Now here, him standing in front of you, the idea seemed far more difficult than before. His slouched position and hand in his pocket, his free hand begun scratching the back of his head not knowing what to do now. You start to feel your chest feel extremely heavy, and heart begun to drop in your stomach just by his body language. You were scared shitless on what to do now. "Nice day out, huh?." You said trying to start some small talk.*

*Shinji's head looked up towards the clear blue sky before mumbling a "Yeah." In agreement and leaning his back against the wall of the warehouse for support. Shit. This couldn't get any worse. Your eyes closed and mentally slapped yourself at how pathetic you were being choosing to play with the hem of your sweater instead. Little did you know that Shinji was watching your every move and expression in his peripheral. And decided to break the ice for you.*

*"So, whatdya need ta talk ta me bout'?." **Your (eye/color) eyes finally met his calm one's. Feeling ease creeping into your every fiber and relaxing, but only a little. "Well, I. I just wanted to know-. " you made a humming sound through your nose and rubbing your arm to calm your nerves. * *'just. Ask. Him'*

*"Date.. With. Me?." Silence. All that could be heard was the sound of the wind rustling the loose leaves on the street. Soon though, his smile grew into his signature smile and his eyes twinkled.*

*"Yer askin' me out on a date (Name)?."*

*You couldn't Shake your head any faster almost causing you to get dizzy at the eagerness. Before a soft smile shown on your features.*

*"Y-Yes! If. You want to.." Why were you so nervous? You've been on dates before? But then again asking first was singlehandedly the hardest thing you've ever done.*

*"Hmpf. Nev'a been asked by a cute girl before. T'sound nice. When is it?." His smooth voice rang in your ears and heart lept with excitement.*

*"How's 7:30 pm?."*

_______________________________________

Here now in your room, You stared at your reflection for the 20the time, finding something new that needed touched up and make-up to be reapplied. Fixing your hair and smoothing down the dress giving yourself another look over. The dress your friend helped you pick out was stunning. White knee length, with semi thick straps that connected in the back with a lace design. With floral flowers in the color of pinkish red and a sash that wrapped around your waist. Final thing to top off was a white and black laced shawl you'll use to wrap around your arms and a simple hand bag for your phone makeup and wallet. You felt that since you were the one that asked him out, you figured it be appropriate to pay for the two of you as well. Role reversed much?. You let out a soft laugh.

Hearing you're phone beep, you quickly pulled it out of your purse before checking the message

Shinji 🎷:*Hey doll, M'Here."*

A dust of Pink adorned your cheeks while you let out a giggle from the nickname he gave you, before dashing off from your room to meet him at the front door. Opening the door, Shinji turned to the sound, adorning in a white button up shirt with a black tie, suspenders, black slacks with a nice pair of white and black dress shoes and holding a dark blue jacket on his forearm. He pulls his sunglasses up on his head and gave a modest whistle. "Yer lookin great (Name). N' all dressed up fer me?." He became so comfortable with that statement that he landed a hand on your waist to pull you closer getting a wiff of your nice smelling perfume and shampoo. "Gorgeous."

You smiled looking down at the ground, pulling a stray hair behind your ear.

"You're looking incredible yourself Shinji." He scoffs.

"Nah. This ole' thing?. Ts'been collecting dust."

You playfully slapped his chest before walking down the steps to the side walk. "So I was thinking about this nice restaurant I seen walking with (friends/name), wanna check it out?."

Shinji threw his palm up to stop you.

"No darlin. This one on me. I know a good place." Taking your hand in his he throws his jacket over his shoulder and proceeds down the street to a jazz club downtown. During the walk you soon discovered he called ahead and even made a reservation. Your mouth hung open and gawked at how fast he moved. You had only asked him out that morning and already he's made arrangements? Your heart wasn't sure how much you could handle this man.

After sometime walking you made it to a building called *'Cocktails and Dreams'*. Shinji opened the door for you and followed inside. The room was not too dark, but not too light, there was red leather booths sitting along the walls and small rectangular tables wrapped in red satin silk filling the middle of the room, and at the end of the room stood a beautiful stage with red, blues, pinks and purple stage lights. A piano, saxophone, a couple electric guitars and a cello sitting on their perks with band mates beginning their routine. The smell of cigars and delicious food filled your senses as you looked around. There wasn't many people here, probably regulars and some folks sitting at the bar upon entering the building and to top off this classy place soft jazz music played. Filling your soul with something it hasn't felt in many years. Warmth and happiness.

You were brought from your thoughts when the waitress walked past you. "Your booth is this way sir." Shinji threw his arm around your waist and led you to where you'll be seated together. He leaned down to whisper in your right ear. "So, whatcha think doll face.? Yer kinda place?." Your spine shivered with anticipation and licked your lips before responding. "It's perfect." Whilst making eye contact. He smirks, when the waitress took the card off the table she gestured the two of you to sit while she asked you two what drinks to start with. Shinji allowed you to slide in first before following suit. "Ya wanna alcoholic beverage or just water fer now?." He asked leaning towards you with that smile you love so much. "Water for now please." He nodded, "Two waters."

The waitress wrote it down and set two menus for you both to look over. Even the menu was fancy. "Ya wanna talk first then order? Or jus order than talk?." You smiled before placing the menu down. Sitting your chin in both your palms you leaned towards Shinji looking directly at him. He scooted closer to the point of your legs touching and threw his arm on top the booth chair behind you. He looked easy going and relaxed. Eyes half lidded while he looked at you through his lashes. You couldn't help but move in next to him and laying your head on his shoulder. This display of physical intimacy surprised the both of you before he let out a hearty chuckle.

"Where's'tha blushy nervous cutie who asked me out this mornin? M'not sure why but I'm enjoyin this kinda attention." You laughed with him. "I don't know. I guess once the jitters wore off happiness replaced it." You felt his head tilt to peer at the crown of your head. "Yer happy?." You hummed in agreement. Before lifting to look at him face to face. "To be honest I've been pinning after you for awhile." You looked down at the table. His smile faded into a slight frown. "But.. Seeing the way you flirted with girls. I felt I'd never have a chance. Till' this morning." His smile was completely gone but he replaced it with a smirk when you looked back at him. "M'Sorry doll. Nev' expected ya ta even gimme a second glance." You rolled your eyes.

"Well of course I did!." You giggled while he feigned fake hurt. By this time the waitress walked back with your waters and placed them down. Shinji moved to collect them. But you felt the women's presence lurking. You looked up at her and she was staring directly at Shinji, "Are you ready to order now, sir?." He gave a curt nod your way as to ask you as well, when you picked up the menu you quickly picked the chef's choice, as you were nervous to take too long, Shinji picked the same one before handing the menu back to the lady. "Thank you I'll have that right out to you, sir." Before walking away. For some reason you couldn't help but feel as if she disregarded your presence and only noticed Shinji. He turned back to you.

"(Name)." You turned your head his way. "Yeah?." He held your hand in his lap tracing patterns on your skin. "Wanna dance?." You beamed before nodding excitedly. He slid out the booth with your hands still connected before pulling you to your feet and towards the dance floor. The music wasn't too fast but not too slow, and soon he begun spinning you in slow circles before pulling you close to his frame. You giggled. You could feel your hands getting clammy at the closeness as your hands moved to lay atop his shoulders while he swayed and twirled with you on the dance floor. A couple times you had accidentally tripped or stepped on his foot, mumbling apologies while he shrugged it off. He taught you a few jazz moves before doing the signature twirl and dip. His left arm wrapped securely around the mid of your back while the other held your hand. He leaned in close to your face, a blush creeping incredibly fast, heart thumping in your chest. Your eyes widened as his face kept inching closer to yours, your eyes slowly closed Before he landed a soft sweet longing kiss on your forehead and bringing you back upright to his chest. The music ended and people hollered and clapped before music transitioned into a soft melody again.

Grabbing his hand, you both sat back down while laughing amongst yourselves and by then the food arrived. Two words. Mouth watering. House salad with shrimp and steak and to top it off you both ordered a coconut breeze martini to go with the meal. Needless to say you were thankful he picked the place, you knew jazz was his thing and boy did he deliver. You both chatted about music, movies and other favorite topics. Going as far as to critique little details within each topic. His laughs were genuine and sweet. Something you never heard before now, and his body language wasn't so much as lazy and uncaring as most times, but attentive and serious while still retaining his comical behaviour. Everything was perfect, he listened to everything you said chiming in time to time to put in his opinions and comments while you did the same with him. Slight brushing of leg and arms, and occasionally leaning towards the other, lips caressing each other's cheeks while you spoke. Needlessly to say, you begun to get a slight buzz from the alcohol a red hue tinting your cheeks. Your giggles and eye smiles were the cutest thing Shinji had ever seen. You were far more relaxed and open with jokes. After two hours sitting and talking and eating, the waitress had come back for the final time to ask if you two wanted anything else, and if Shinji would like the bill. You went to reach for your purse to pay, but Shinji had moved his palm up to stop you as he did before. "It's on me darlin. I'm the man, 'mayyybe' next time ill'have ya pay." Your eyes widened for the up tenth time that night, trying to argue back that it was your treat. And then it hit you. *'next time ill'have ya pay.'*

Your hands shot up to hold your cheeks and stared at Shinji in shock. He laughed watching as you turned away with the brightest blush, *"he said next time? He wants to go out with me again?"* you squealed to yourself. Shinji watched with a soft smile as you had your monologue before seeing the waitress hand him the check, he thanked her before her hand touched his shoulder in a flirtatious way, his eyes narrowed at her gesture.

"I hope you have a nice night sir." She gave him a sultry smile and a wink before walking off to serve another round of tables. He scoffs, upon opening the check he seen a piece of torn paper with a note along with a number written on it. He scoffs again; *'if you want to spend a night with a real women, call me ;)-' (xxx) -xxx- xxxx'*

He makes quick work of the paper after writing the amount on the bill then left a note for the waitress. He didn't even bother to wait for her to collect the check before he insisted you and him leave for a walk. He slides out, taking your hand in his and helping you out of the booth and putting his hands on your hips to follow you outside.

The waitress had walked eagerly back to your tables to collect the check and plates. Quickly opening the check with anticipation before her face fell in disappointment.

*'Thanks, but I got a real women. Oh, and ya not gettin a tip :) hav'a nice night.'*

____________________________

the walk was even more peaceful, not so much chatting, just making small comments about the scenery or how well the food and music was.

Your eyes turned to look at Shinji. "I didn't want to bring this up, but I felt that the waitress-. " Shinji stiffened.

"Didn't like me very much." He hummed. "S'fine dollface. I took care of it." Your heart swelled you could hear your friends voice echoing through your head. *"Cuff him. Cuff him."*

You let out laugh to which caused Shinji to turn his head. "Wha'so funny?." You Shook your head and squeezed his hand, by this time you both had made it to your home. He walked you to your door. "Well. This is me." He begun to slouch and scratch his head again mumbling to himself. The action would've made you think he was disinterested but the light pink hue dusting his cheeks told another story. You laughed at him and placed a hand on his upper arm drawing him from his thoughts. His soft brown eyes scanned your features before walking closer to you holding your hand in his with utmost care.

"Shinji."

"Yes dear?."

"Can. We do this again?."

He smiles. "Absolutely."

It was your turn to smile. Before your hands followed his arms up to his shoulders, and stopping at where his neck connects, soft hands wrapping where his neck starts and peering into his eyes with heated passion. You sighed softly smelling his expensive cologne.

"(Name)."

"Yes?."

"May I, kiss ya now?. Fer real this time."

You stood on your tiptoes to get closer to his face. Pulling his face only centimeters away from where you wanted him the most. Your lips were parted for him, his eyes lowered from her irises to your parted pink lips.

Before finally closing the gap to a kiss as Swift and loving as the first shine of sun adorning the horizon. And left little to the imagination of his feelings towards you. You wish you could say the kiss was short but you both held it for as long as your lungs could allow, before finally parting for air at last.

Breathless and full of love.

"I'll see ya tomorrow yeah?." You nodded excitedly before pulling him in for a hug. "Goodnight shinji. Thank you for a wonderful time."

He gives you one more squeeze before letting you go and walking in the direction of the warehouse. You leaned against your front door after sighing dreamily to yourself. You should ask him out more often.

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END.

A/N: hope this was amazing unfortunately my computer is down so I had to do all of this on mobile and wasn't able to put a Read More™ link. It was supposed to be a short one shot to get me started but inspiration bug hit so I apologize for the long post. I hope you enjoyed, my ask box for this side blog is open feel free to slide in and say hi! Love you all and more works will be upcoming ~ stay tuned. Much love

- Tara 🐉🔮

#shinji hirako scenarios #shinji hirako x reader #shinji hirako #shinji+hirako+headcanons #hirako shinji #bleach anime #bleach #female reader #reader insert #imagines #short story #discourse #writing prompt #bleach imagines

[babbushka]

Zannah! Thank you so much for all your writing!!! It makes me so happy to have you back and interacting with us again! In some HCs recently, you mentioned that Flip loves to drive in the mountains during the fall and take food with you and have a picnic in some scenic spot. Can you please write something with that? Smut and fluff both preferred, but either or is fine too! 🍁

(1k, entirely sappy fluff lol)

It strikes him sometimes, out of nowhere, how much he adores you. He’s never been very good at it, at expressing this kind of shit. He doesn’t always have the words, can’t articulate it.

Flip will look at you and go speechless, all the thoughts he might’ve had suddenly nowhere to be found. He wonders, wonders if that feeling will ever go away, if he’ll ever get used to the sheer force of his affections for you.

Probably not, it’s been so many years now and still the butterflies flutter up into his stomach when he gets a glimpse of you. 

He’s got butterflies now, got much more than a glimpse of you.    

It’s a lazy day, and you’re on one of the lazy outings perfect for a lazy day. He’s driven you out into the mountains, down a little trail he knows, a scenic spot away from the highway so you don’t have to hear the passing cars and all their noise. The both of you are cozied up in the back of his pickup truck, that Chevy serving him well still, all these years later.

In the bed of the truck with you are a bunch of blankets and a big basket. Inside of the basket is an assortment of treats, snacks, and goodies you’ve packed, all artfully wrapped in brown paper and stored in your favorite small Pyrex containers. He’s halfway through his second Camel of the afternoon, and you’re all the way on the other side of the truck bed. You’re facing one another, your legs stretched out across the width of the bed, ankles crossed in his lap.

“Why don’t you come a little closer, ketsl?” Flip rubs soothing little motions on your calf. It’s chilly and you’re wearing stockings, bright purple ones that make him smile.

“Because I get a much better view of you from over here.” You wink at him as you bite around a hefty sandwich.  

“Aw c’mon you’ve seen enough of this mug.” Flip scoffs around his cigarette, the tips of his ears going red at the smile you give him.

“I’ll never have enough, I love lookin’ at you.” You bat your lashes at him, smiling with your pretty teeth.

“Hey that’s my line.” He grows warm all the way through, you’re like a warm mug of apple cider, hot chocolate, he doesn’t know. He’s not good at metaphors.

You rummage through the basket for a moment, offering him a, “Roast beef?”

Flip just blushes, blushes and wishes he had the words for you, wishes he could just open up his head and let you take a look inside so you could see just how much he feels for you. From the way you’re looking at him now, he’s not so sure that you can’t.

“So I went to the deli this morning to pick up the cold cuts and the son was there – you know the son? – he usually isn’t there, I guess Mr. Schweitzer is teaching him some more about the business since he’s getting older, but he did a great job I think. What do you think honey, is it too thinly sliced?” You talk, and he loves listening to you talk, loves it too much that sometimes he gets lost in the sound of your voice.

“Hm?” He frowns at the sandwich before taking a bite and answering, “No it’s good.”

“Okay good, because I know how particular you are about it and I wasn’t sure if it was too much, but I thought it’d be okay because I would’ve asked him to stop. I also scored with schmaltz, the son – I really need to learn his name – ”

“Howie.” He reminds you, he’s good with names like that.

“Howie! That’s it, thank you honey,” You beam at him and he can only blush some more, smoking his cigarette and feeling too much like a nervous teenager with you while you continue on, “Howie was just going to throw it away and I told him he better not or else Mr. Schweitzer would be very cross with him, because it’s liquid gold that schmaltz is, so he offered to give it to me for free as a token of thanks.”

“Wow.” He grins at you, raises his eyebrows a little in playful surprise.

“I know! I of course put the cost of it right in the tip jar, because, well, you know.” You shrug with a wave of your hand. You’re so animated, and he’s so in love with you. So stupidly, profoundly, hopelessly in love with you, “But we’ve got that to cook with now which is exciting. I was thinking of making your favorite for tomorrow night – ”

He just has to kiss you, he has to. He think he might die if he doesn’t, he knows he’s going to perish. He cuts you off right in the middle of your sentence and cups your face in his calloused hands, squishes your cheeks together and smacks a big, loud, wet smooch right to your mouth.

You laugh brightly against his embrace, and he wrangles wrestles you down onto the blankets that you’ve laid out, gets you on top of him, crushes you to him, never wanting to let you go.  

He gets a wave of it again, a hit of his adoration. How lucky is he, to call you his wife? How lucky could a man be, to have a woman like you? He must’ve done something right in a past life, must’ve done enough good deeds as a kid, to be granted someone so special as you.

He holds you tight tight tight, and you laugh that laugh of yours, smile at him with that smile, look at him with those eyes.

“Love you.” You whisper with a big grin, your hair falling around you in a beautiful curtain.

“If only you knew.” He smooches at your cheek, your neck, your chin, and finally your lips, the picnic all but forgotten.

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman x you #flip zimmerman/you #flip zimmerman imagine #blackkklansman #flip zimmerman fluff #Anonymous #cowboy answers

[mrsrcbinscn]

[Past] Franny Sor’s 1 hour set at a bar in Downtown Nashville, February 24, 1999

hi i’m in my feelings so have this silly hc piece. It’s a mix of a oneshot and just a list really.

I hc this is the gig that Franny met Cornelius at, but I left all the other details about him vague ^_^

cover versions of the songs are linked for general vibe

so anyway someone come write my cornelius lmao<3

The 9 PM time slot at The Whiskey Hive on Broadway was a coveted one, a surefire moneymaker. Franny, wonderin’ how in the hell she was ever going to pay for her next semester, let alone her next three years at Belmont, jumped at the opportunity to take it when the original singer cancelled at 4:30. Lucky thing she lived on campus and could easily make it in time -- even with guitar and banjo in tow.

Pete the talent manager always called Franny first or nearly-first when he had an open slot. She didn’t usually get the best time slots. She was barely nineteen, new in town, not like these other people who have been songwriting in Nashville for over a decade, and there was a sense of seniority in these circles. Franny could tell Pete was giving her a chance to earn her way into the 8-10 PM time slots and there was no way in hell she way blowing it.

That of course meant there was only one song from her repertoire she could possibly open with...Poor, Poor, Pitiful Me by Linda Ronstadt of course! If Franny ever needed an ‘impress a crowd free’ song, she only needed to whip Linda Ronstadt out of her back pocket. It also didn’t hurt that Terri Clark had recently brought the song back to the attention of country music fans with her cover of it.

“Let’s give a big Whiskey Hive welcome to little miss Franny Sor, a freshman here at Belmont University, all the way from Payne Lake, Georgia!” Pete said into his microphone before turning it off and nodding to Franny to begin.

The crowd applauded between eating and drinking their beers and cocktails, and Franny idly played a few chords to get some background noise goin’ as she introduced herself.

“Hey y’all! Like Pete said, I’m Franny Sor, I live here in Nashville and I’m a music studies student and songwriter. We’re gonna start tonight with a little Linda Ronstadt.”

The crowd, mostly the thirty-five-and-older folks, applauded, and Franny began her acoustic rendition of Poor, Poor, Pitiful Me.

“Thank y’all so much! Now, if there’s anything you want to hear at any point in the next hour, just let me know, I love requests. And if you like what you hear, feel free to drop some change in the tip buckets, it helps keep me here in Nashville, put gas in my car, buy my cat wet food. You know, the essentials.”

She went right into Roseanne Cash’s Seven Year Ache, trying not to notice the young man at the bar, probably about three or four years older than her, who met her eye a few times and seemed to be fishin’ for his wallet. 

A few folks dropped some tips in the bucker, including the handsome young man alone at the bar.

“Thank you, thank you! And where are you from, sir?” Franny asked, figuring now was a good opportunity for crowd engagement. 

The man startled, clearly not one comfortable with being put on the spot, but answered her with a nervous smile.

“Ohhh, I’ve always wanted to go there. Cool accent! What brings you to Nashville? What’s your name?”

“I’m living here for work right now. Uh, Cornelius.”

“What kinda music do you like, Cornelius? I can play anythin’. Rock, pop, country, bluegrass.”

He blinked, almost as if he forgot what music was, let alone what he liked. After a beat, he stuttered out, “Um- a- an-an original?”

Good Lord, the squeak that came out of Franny’s mouth. “That’s the first time anybody’s ever requested an original! I’m very excited about this song I just wrote. To keep a very long story offensively short, my mother came to the United States in 1979 as a refugee from Cambodia. She was separated from her entire family during the conflict there, and didn’t even know that my grandmother was still alive until I was nine. I wrote this song over Christmas break, when my grandmother visited from Cambodia and my brothers and I got to meet her. This song is to my mother, from my grandmother’s perspective.  I promise I’ll play a fun song after this one.”

That at least got some laughter from the audience.

She set her guitar down, picked up her banjo, and played Oh, Sophia, a song she wrote.

“I promise y’all, if I ever write a happy little love song, y’all will be the first to know,” Franny joked as she switched out her banjo for her guitar again. “It’s just that ain’t no guy I’ve gone with has been love song material. Hey, Cornelius, if you know any guys worth writin’ a love song about, you call me, eh?” 

Franny hopped up on her tippy toes to look out at a table where a family with a cute little girl was sitting. “What about y’all, with the little girl in pigtails? Where’re you from?”

“San Francisco! Exciting! What brings you to Nashville?”

“Vacation!”

“You came to the right place, I love this little city. What kind of music do you wanna hear?”

“Know any Roger Miller?” Asked the husband.

Franny giggled, then smirked. “Of course I do! Roger Miller’s some of my favorite songwriting in country music. Do you like Kansas City Star?”

She reached down into her guitar case and brandished a tambourine, which she promptly put her foot through on the floor to use to keep time as she played her cover of Kansas City Star.

Franny did her very, very, damned best not to make eye contact with Cornelius with the accent again, but she couldn’t help it. He was the only person in the place lookin’ at her like she wasn’t just background noise.

"Is anybody else here from Georgia tonight? Or just me. Anybody from Georgia?”

A bachelorette party toward the back WOOOOOO’d and Franny immediately regretted asking.

“For real? Where at?”

“Marietta!”

“Y’all like Reba?” More WOOOOOOs from the girls. 

Franny gently slid her tambourine to the side with her foot and got ready to bang out The Night The Lights Went Out in Georgia. If she could get the energy in the room nice and up with Reba, then she could probably play the song she’d been dying to play all hour.

Her eyes kept darting toward Cornelius at the bar, still sipping the same beer he’d started the hour with. At least he ordered food too. Bartender probably wouldn’t be too pissed as long as he tipped good. Judging by the twenty he dropped in Franny’s tip bucket, he should.

It wasn’t just the fact she made good money off of him -- he was just. Listening to her. People didn’t do that here, not really.

As she finished, the crowd applauded for the performance she gave on that song. Turns out going for a tough song pays off...if you got the skills to back it up.

“This is one of my favorite songs, and I don’t get to play it often. Ain’t really country, but I really want to play it. Is that all right with y’all?” Franny asked the crowd, who, on account of being thoroughly entertained at this point, cheered.

She set her banjo down and picked her guitar back up, and picked out the first few notes of Angel of The Morning.

It was a risk, but the bar seemed to like her well enough to go for it. Was it a great bar song? Eh, no. But did Franny believe her vocal performance could make up for that? For sure. 

And lookit that, a gentleman at a table in the middle stood out of his seat to applaud her! Ha!

“Y’all wanna hear a girl do Hank Williams?” Franny joked, and at the applause and whoops, she said, “Gimme a song, any Hank song, c’mon!”

“Lovesick Blues!”

“You wanna hear Lovesick Blues? And where are you from?”

“Calgary!”

“Canada! Well, welcome to Nashville. Here’s Lovesick Blues for ya, Canada.”

Country fans always did find it impressive when she could country yodel into a Hank song.

As she considered what exactly to whip out next, someone shouted, “Tammy Wynette!” and Franny zeroed in on that request. 

“Which song?”

“Stand By Your Man!”

“Alright folks, heeeere’s Stand By Your Man by the legend herself.”

Franny personally didn’t adore the song -- she thought it gave men’s shitty behavior a pass. But it was a classic, and to make it in music, you gotta know the classics.

“Does anybody here like Alanis Morisette? I know, I know, it’s not country...I told y’all! I like everything. I’m a teenage girl in 1999, of course Alanis Morisette speaks to my soul.”

She very pointedly was not looking at cute-Cornelius-at-the-bar as she sang Head Over Feet, lest she catch nerves and butterflies. Even as she noticed him get up out of the corner of her eye and drop another bank note into the tip bucket.

“What do y’all wanna hear for the grand finale? Old country, new country, pop, rock...? What about you, Mr. Cornelius-from-[redacted]?”

“New country! I, uh, actually could use some educating on it. About it. Country.”

Franny smiled and readied her fingers on the right frets for the first chord. “Great! We’ll wrap up our time together with some Mark Chestnutt.”

It’s A Little Too Late was a goddamn blast to play, so why not?

Franny hopped off the stage and sped through counting her tips, in hopes of catching Cornelius before he left to chat him up more. What? He was cute, had a cool accent, and tipped her well. May as well say hello...

#&&...hc #r: love of my life