#in his angry ponytail glory

[skyeslittlecorner]

Tails for all! - Nilfheim edition

Other parts: Kings | Gehenna | Tartaros | Hades | Avisos | Abaddon | Paradise Lost

Bathin

The Ars Goetia talks about a serpent's tail, but it also mentions a light horse. I was tempted. A light ponytail, a shade similar to his hair, knee-length. Silky to the touch, the texture is second only to Satan's hair in softness. 

The light blue highlights are not fully visible in the daylight, but when the light is turned off they shine slightly brighter. Interestingly, they seem to glow with irregular light, so they look like tiny comets interwoven.

In the army, they wanted to cut off his long locks because they thought it would hinder him in battle, but he refused. He promised in return that he would wear a braid, but he only does it for mandatory exercises. He doesn't like to tie his tail.

By the way, his tail doesn't stop him from fighting at all.

He only cut his tail once. When Stolas returned from Tartaros plucked and realized what he had done, Bathin trimed his tail in solidarity.

Sensitivity 2/10. Not very affectionate, but he likes to lie on your lap and let you play with his tail while he reads a book.

Gusion

Baboon tail, this is also how he is presented in Ars Goetia, but longer and black, so it’s also similar to a panther. The most similar to Sitri’s, but not so fluffy, thinner, longer, more grippy and Gusion won't bite your hand off if you pull it.

When he was teaching young Satan and Beel and they were naughty (i.e. 90% of the time), he would lift the one closest to him by the foot with his tail and make them repeat the formulas upside down.

He stopped when it turned out they were having fun. 

And started using it again because it turned out that they remembered the formulas way more effectively.

Unlike Amon, he can hold a pen with his tail. He can even write with it. Even if he's not doing anything with his tail, the tip twitches as if he's counting something in his mind.

Overworked boy, even if he doesn't admit it. You saw that when he sleeps on the desk, he covers his eyes with his tail like a blindfold.

Sensitivity 7/10, especially because of how grippy and flexible it is. The fur is quite rough, so if you feel brave, you can rub against it. He definitely prefers to immobilize your hands.

Andrealphus

A long peacock tail, as black as horns. It flows behind him like the train of a dress. The silky feathers are black, or should be, but due to partial albinism the middle part of his tail is white. 

He is unaware of his albinism. Only heard rumors that he poured bleach on his tail to make it match his torn-off wings. And to make it easier to see traces of blood on them.

Peacocks spread their tails when they want to impress someone, but he never spread his. At most, when he is irritated, he raises his tail, but it is still closed.

Once he got angry with Gusion and, in order not to quarrel with him, he turned his back and left. Didn't even notice that his tail had hit him. You know that gesture of turning around and throwing your hair back into someone's face? This vibe. He does fabulous bitchslaps. 

Because he has a feathered tail and is half albinistic, it is considered unique even among the most beautiful ones. Which makes people feel even more sorry for him, because “it's not a warrior's tail, he shouldn't have fought”. He hates this pity.

Sensitivity 4/10… except your every touch is 10/10 to him. He will let you stroke, comb, caress those feathers, ruffle them with pleasure and demand praise. However, since his tail isn't extremely sensitive, and he doesn't pay much attention to his surroundings when you're around him, you have to be careful not to trample him.

If you pamper him enough, you will see this beautiful tail in all its glory.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb andrealphus #whb gusion #whb bathin #Yes Nilfheim was supposed to be last #and yes Andrealphus is the reason why it is not #i tried not to be biased #but oh boy I'm bad at trying

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

          Wang Haoyu, a 25 year old son of Sun-Wukong.           He is an inventory specialist at Jinxxed.

FC NAME/GROUP: hou minghao (neo hou), actor CHARACTER NAME: wang haoyu AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 25, 3 nov. 1998 PLACE OF BIRTH: guangxi, china OCCUPATION: inventory specialist at jinxxed HEIGHT: 177cm DEFINING FEATURES:

plump, heart-shaped lips

mole in the inner corner of his right eye, below his eyebrow

long hair, often in a ponytail

PERSONALITY: if disingenuity was a person, then wang haoyu would fit the concept neatly. one never knows what he is up to, what he is thinking or what he feels. however, haoyu hasn’t always been this way. a series of unfortunate events and changes in personality, combined with a mischievous streak he was born with due to his parentage, haoyu has now become a person of opportunity. mainly caring after his own well-being, haoyu isn’t overly concerned with the feelings and tidings of other people and their lives. he takes what he can get, and rarely ever gives back. an annoying personality, perhaps, but not without reason. while haoyu keeps tight-lipped about his past, the truth sometimes can be read on his face. because while haoyu adopts many visages and can play many roles, he cannot hide forever.

HISTORY:

drip..

he is all kind smiles and lonely eyes. a young boy waiting to be picked up from school. barely six years old, wang haoyu was ‘quiet’. he rarely spoke unless spoken to. quite unusual and off-putting to some. but haoyu simply did not know what to say. the anxiety of not knowing if he would be picked up, if he would eat or sleep in his own bed tonight were thoughts that kept him pre-occupied. thoughts he shouldn’t be having at such a young age. 

as he sat on his haunches, slowly petting a stray cat, he heard the soft puffs of an elderly person breathing heavily and the slight squeaking of bicycle wheels. a small smile graced the boy’s once sombre face; he could sleep in his own bed tonight.

drip..

he was unwanted, an inconvenience to his busy parents. his father he rarely saw, a military man chasing bygone glories. his mother was even busier, a convenience store clerk by day and waitress by night. she worked hard to make ends meet. haoyu would never forget the furrowed brows of frustration that marred her pretty but weary face whenever she opened the fridge to find there was nothing left to eat. he would count the seconds until she would finally look at him, a cold stare as she closed the fridge ever so silently but ‘ominously’. haoyu would hold his breath, pretend not to see her through his peripheral vision as his small fist would grip the pencil ever so tighter as he was bent over his homework assignment.

he was an extra mouth to feed, he knew it. she knew it. 

grandmother knew it too whenever she was tasked to babysit him. a thin boy with big eyes and longish hair (there wasn’t money for the hairdressers). now thirteen years old, his appetite had grown but food was still a luxury. so, whenever grandmother would visit, she always came with a load of plastic bags, containing tupperware filled with homemade food. haoyu loved his grandmother. his stomach did too.

drip..

‘at least he was a boy’, haoyu heard his mother sneer quietly as she dropped her keys on the wooden side table next to the worn sofa. the boy dared to look up, gaze empty as he watched his mother’s face as emotions played several scenes across her face. she never bothered to hide what she really felt. in a way, haoyu was grateful. it was the only thing about his mother that was predictable - comfortable even. he knew what he could expect.

her rushing out for her second job of the day after having eaten the last bowl of leftover rice was another expected event.

drip.. drip..

“Why aren’t you angry?” a whisper came from his right and haoyu glanced at the source of the sound. a saddened expression marred his classmate’s youthful face as the other looked down at his lunch. something which haoyu once again didn’t have as he sat empty-handed at his desk. this classmate was the only one who paid attention to haoyu. one could consider him a friend, but haoyu had no friends. he never bothered to get close to anyone, finding fault with every teenager he met because they could never understand him. they never took the time to consider his circumstances. maybe this boy did to some extend but the kid would happily gobble up his own lunch, not sharing a bite.

haoyu pondered the question for a while though. he was still thinking about it when he went to bed that night, once again alone in an empty house. as he stared at the ceiling, the light of the moon creating warped shadowy shapes on the beige stone, he realised that in fact, he was angry. furious even. but he was still too young to do something about the rage in his heart.

drip.. drip.. drip..

a couple of days later, his father came home and the household was tense. the man ignored haoyu whenever he could, but would seek fights with his mother. haoyu was witness as the man raised his hand. he was witness when his mother fell to the floor and looked at haoyu standing at the front door from where he just entered the apartment. and haoyu also witnessed his mother screaming for him.

“you monster! look what you’ve done!“ 

her screech was all too familiar. after all these years, haoyu still didn’t know why he was the source of the family’s misfortune. he hadn’t asked to be born nor could he do anything about their circumstances. unfortunately the boy would soon find out the truth about why he was considered misfortune personified. 

splash!

the truth came forth from his father’s drunken state of mind that very night. haoyu wasn’t his. and he never would be. the man’s wife had been disloyal. seduced by a wicked god, she had been impregnated with a bastard child. scum of the earth; a monstrous half breed. that’s what the man spat into the fifteen-year-old’s face. the pieces of a puzzle fell into place, and the truth was ugly, but surprisingly welcome to wang haoyu. it meant that he didn’t have to feel guilty when his fist connected with his father’s flushed cheek. oops, his not-father. whatever.

wang haoyu’s bucket was now empty. the waters of patience had spilled over and caused a wave of consequences he could not stop. from one day to the next, wang haoyu wasn’t just a demigod but a homeless one. his mother had not forgiven the punch he’d served his sad excuse of a stepfather and the latter would no longer tolerate someone who was not his son in his home. 

( and grandmother had unfortunately passed a year ago. )

drip..

tired feet in worn shoes walked up the dirt road to a monastery where he hoped they would be willing to take him in. haoyu had chosen one furthest from his home but within reasonable walking distance. the boy had been walking for almost a day, and no longer wondered why his stamina was heightened in spite of the growling of his hungry stomach. he didn’t know whose child he was, nor did he particularly care. he was abandoned so why should he wonder? he was on his own now, and that suited the teenager just fine. he would take what he could get to better himself and no longer rely on anyone to take care of him.

but a roof over his head was imperative. when the doors to the monastery finally opened, the teenaged demigod flashed the surprised monk a smile and asked for bed and board. thus began a series of interesting years in which haoyu helped the monks, practised martial arts and took risks in finding out what - if any - powers he may possess. haoyu soon discovered how easy it was for him to distract the monks from their work, how quickly they forgave his foolery and how little problem he had with deceiving others.

after all, why would he need to feel bad when people had deceived and fooled him his entire life? he owed nobody anything, least of all feelings.

drip..

wang haoyu realised his potential lay in the mystic arts. he could perform minor magic spells which were mostly elemental in nature. he also found out that his temper needed to be kept at bay for him to have any control over his powers. his bucket needed to be empty. because once it spilled, haoyu’s rage would cause the demigod to partially transform into what he was sure his mother would have called a real monster.

but life was better than it had been. all good things must come to an end though, and at age twentyfour, wang haoyu was finally considered too old to remain at the monastery if he didn’t fully want to commit to a life as a monk. haoyu’s charms may have gotten him a couple extra years but now time was up.

wang haoyu had grown into his own person. still slightly malnourished and shorter than he had wanted to be but he had learnt some life lessons and was ready to venture out into the world in search of a life he could call his own. he wanted to explore highs and lows, train his body and become even more powerful. had haoyu known back then that this mindset was so similar to his godly father’s, he’d probably have rebelled against it. but haoyu was ignorant of this.

drip..

he was still kind smiles and lonely eyes when his journey brought wang haoyu to korea. a year and a half he’d been by himself, travelling mountains, crossing rivers and meeting all sorts of people who lined his pockets with currency and stuffed his mouth with food. one of those people, an elderly man who frequented the pub too often and spoke too loudly, had informed haoyu of a mythical place. a place away from china, off the coast of south korea, where gods mingled among humans with special abilities. the other pub goers had laughed the story off, reminding the old man that he was senile and shouldn’t be spouting nonsense.

but wang haoyu knew better, and he had been intrigued. eyes had sparkled with excitement as he’d thrown money on his table and left to make preparations for a new adventure. a couple months after the pub incident, wang haoyu had reached mount phoenix. he now had a job, a roof over his head and ample time to do whatever he pleased without worries. he remained secretive about his desires, still caused mischief whenever he felt like it but most importantly, he had full control over his own life. and if he met his real father by chance? pfff. 

he still didn’t care.

PANTHEON: chinese CHILD OF: sun wukong POWERS: wang haoyu can use minor magic spells that can be of use to him in his mischievous machinations. these magic spells are mainly elemental in nature, but he can also manipulate his guise to trick people. additionally, he can perform barrier magic to trap people or to defend himself against powerful attacks.

he also possesses over inhuman strength, but this enhancement is limited to whenever haoyu feels threatened and adrenaline kicks in. in any other situation his strength is very much like the average demigod. 

because of the abilities of his ape-like father, wang haoyu has a shapeshifter awareness and can partially transform body parts into those of an ape, slightly enlarged. however, he can only transform one body part at a time. haoyu doesn’t often do this, because it makes him look monstrous, and the technique is only effective when he’s enraged and losing control of his magic.

STRENGTHS: 

haoyu is a very resilient person and is able to adapt himself and his magic to whichever situation presents itself.

when haoyu feels threatened, his inhuman strength rivals that of a god; it would be smart not to engage.

despite his treacherous and mischievous nature, haoyu has a very strong heart and is able to endure many hardships in which he can also protect those dear to him.

WEAKNESSES: 

there’s a delicate balance in haoyu’s control over his powers and when someone finds out the blind spot in his defences, haoyu will be unable to use his magic as well as not be able to partially transform.

haoyu’s disingenuity and mysterious behaviour is quite off-putting to people which can lead to him being unable to form lasting and meaningful connections.

while outwardly bold and quick to reject parental figures, haoyu actually yearns to be taken care of by someone who can give him unconditional love.

#kpop rp #tumblr krp #neo hou #hou minghao #mp; welcome

[nocek]

In event of Aang being thrown back in time into a Groundhog Day time lop

Zuko’s action plan flow chart:

thing happen

>>> shout

but that would make avatar go away and that’s a no no. He needs to stop hugging me though. But maybe it will make him go away?

>>> start throwing fireballs

no because same as above

...

>>> breaking and entering ?

...

...

zuko.exe stopped working

backup action plan: what would uncle do ( easy mode: this time you can go and ask)

obviously whole thing is inspired by this post by  @pageofheartdj​

#atla #avatar #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar fanart #zuko #in his angry ponytail glory #i think it's first time i draw s1 suko? #aang #the precious cinnamon roll #go on and bully tsundere zuko with kindness XD #it's going to be so much fun #this au currently lives in my head rent free #because either aang was about to lose fight with ozai #and spirits decided nope #do it again from the top but better this time #but to make sure it's not too boring #ozai gets hit with a ricochet of redo button #because as much as i love idea of gaang hijinks #seeing what pathetic excuse of a plan loserlord will come up with would be entertaining #dude's got drama on point #(speaking of drama #zuko in no version of any au gets an badass entrance XD) #i guess ozai best bet would be go to azula and explain to 14 year old time loop and spirit assholery #but azula is samrt #and it's easy to figure out that if spirits don't want ozai to win #he won't win #so she decides to join winning side to assure that fire nation is also on winning side #which would make wonderful dynamic of gaang + azula #with fire siblings that are still full on asshole mode #before they get to learn some life lessons

[phoukanamedpookie]

Unpopular opinion: ATLA fandom is TERRIBLE at context.

Princess Azula: I'm a 14-year-old child who played an active role in the Fire Nation's attempt to conquer the world at the behest of my father, who's also the Fire Lord. I'm proud of my achievements because they bring honor and glory to the Fire Nation. My personal safety is entirely bound up in how useful and obedient I am to my dad, the Father Lord Fire Lord. I'll say anything and do anything to stay on his good side. I know for a fact that he would kill my own brother just because his father, my grandfather, for whom I was named, ordered him to. And I witnessed firsthand how he burned my brother's face (but he deserved it for being disrespectful).

Aang: I was ready to use baby pictures to try to make Ozai good again. Even when he was in the middle of him setting fire to the Earth Kingdom, I tried to reason with him to end things peacefully. I'm always talking about forgiveness and giving everyone a chance. So wanting to imprison Azula for life or take away her bending is totally not out of character for me.

Prince and retired general Iroh: I did worse things for longer than Azula's even been alive, but after my son died, I lost my taste for war and conquest. I was sipping the Fire Nation imperialistic propaganda Kool-Aid for a few decades, but I changed and now regret what I did, which is clearly more important than the impact of my actions as a general. Azula, on the other hand, is a remorseless monster and thus completely irredeemable and needs to be taken out. Preferably by Lu Ten Zuko.

Northern Water Tribe survivor of the Siege of the North: You're better than Zhao, I'll give you that.

Earth Kingdom soldier: We still get to crush Iroh's hands, right?

Earth Kingdom refugee whose kid died in the siege of Ba Sing Se: Since you feel bad about what you did, I totally believe the eighth-grader you Fire Nationals sent to fight in this war is the real villain and not a tragic outcome of your warped, warmongering society.

Southern Water Tribe parent whose waterbender kid was kidnapped and imprisoned/killed: Who the hell is Azula? Is she one of the Southern Raiders? Or that angry bald ponytail guy?

Earth Kingdom soldier: But can we crush Iroh's hands, though?

Air Nomads: *can't talk because dead*

#azula #atla opinions #context #literal child soldier azula

[tenelkadjowrites]

Try Me Part One - Wooyoung x Reader (NSFW)

This is an Ateez fic.

PART TWO HERE.

Summary: Having to work with Wooyoung while your marriage is crumbling is frustrating. He’s a cocky brat and barely completes what he needs to. But when you find out your husband cheated on you, Wooyoung proves his worth in another way. 

Genre and warnings: smut. age gap (within legal boundaries).  bratty dom!wooyoung with older sub!reader. mommy kink, reader is called “mommy”. fem pronouns for reader. rough sex including face fucking, use of handcuffs, spanking, slapping, mild choking and overstimulation all done to the reader. dirty talk. unprotected sex. aftercare. reader is married so cheating but the husband is an asshole if that helps. fem pronouns. (lemme know if i missed anything)

Word count: 6,743.

this fic is not meant to represent wooyoung in any way, shape or form.

               Night One.

               Wooyoung is late.

               Twenty minutes late, to be exact. You shouldn’t be so annoyed because you were expecting it. But the irritation is building as you bounce your leg up and down impatiently sitting on your couch.

               At this point, your disdain for your boss is at a record high. Wooyoung shouldn’t have been hired at the company and he definitely shouldn’t have been put on this project with you. If it weren’t for the fact he was the CEO’s son, he would be working a dead end job somewhere. It wasn’t just Wooyoung being younger than you that made him so annoying. It was that he knew he only got the job because of nepotism and walked around the office like he owned the place. His shit eating grin and confident swagger grinded your every nerve. He never did any work, took credit and then would brag about it later.

               Having to share this important project with him meant you wouldn’t get any of the glory from the outcome after doing all the work. If you weren’t so determined to do well, you would let Wooyoung fuck it up on his own but logically you knew that wouldn’t help things – the failure would just be put on you. It was an impossible situation and of course you landed right in the middle of it. Your boss was an idiot and sticking you with bratty young Wooyoung was a slap in the face.

               The doorbell rings then, shattering your angry thoughts. You exhale slowly, attempting to regain control of yourself. You had decided to work on the project here at your place instead of the office only because you couldn’t deal with staff hanging around Wooyoung sucking up to him the entire time. Now, you wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to let others see how little Wooyoung would help you. But your husband is out of town yet again, leaving the apartment to yourself, and you would rather work in the peace and quiet here even with Wooyoung involved.

               You open the door to your apartment to see Wooyoung standing there, holding an iced coffee in one hand, not even attempting to hide the reason he is late. He wears a black dress shirt he hasn’t bothered to tuck in and matching slacks, his hair pulled back in a ponytail. He grins brightly.

               “Hey, ma’am,” He says, entering the apartment without even asking you, his shoulder brushing yours.

               You groan inwardly, already hating the night laid out in front of you.

                 Night Two.

               You stretch out, checking the time on your phone. Wooyoung glances at you out of the corner of his eye, still typing away on his laptop. He has been silent for a full thirty seconds and they have been the first moment of peace the entire night. You hope he is working on the project and not typing up something on twitter.

               You look down at your laptop but check the time again. Wooyoung shifts slightly in his chair and you know he is about to speak. A world record of 35 seconds, you think.

               “Waiting for something, ma’am?” He asks.

               “My husband is out of the country and I was seeing if he was going to call me before he headed into meetings for the day,” The words spill out of you and you have no idea why you are telling Wooyoung this, “It’s morning there.” You chew your bottom lip for a second, realizing that you were anxious about if he was going to call or not. You shouldn’t be surprised your husband doesn’t call because things have not been good lately but still…

               “Does he usually call?” Wooyoung is still typing, not looking at you.

               No, you think but the idea of saying that aloud fills you with a grim dread. “I don’t really want to talk about that. We have the project to work on.”

               Wooyoung blinks, finally looking up at you, “Oh, were we still working on that?”

               You sigh.

                 Night Three.

               Wooyoung’s phone won’t stop going off. You grind your teeth, shooting daggers at him. “Can you mute that or take care of whatever is going on?”

               He picks up his phone and looks at the screen with a bored expression. “I told her to stop texting me but she won’t listen.”

               “Who?” You ask even though you don’t care.

               Wooyoung shrugs, “Just some woman I picked up last week,” He looks at you, that shit eating grin on his face, “I guess since you’re married, you don’t have to worry about that sort of thing anymore, right ma’am?”

               At the mention of your marriage, you flinch. Your husband has been ignoring all your messages and hasn’t called you once on his trip. It is the last thing you feel like talking about right now especially with Wooyoung, who is younger than you and clearly the type of person who relishes one-night stands.

               “Just put your phone on mute and get to work.” You snap.

               He holds his hands up innocently, “Fine, ma’am. But then you need to put your phone away too.”

               “My phone hasn’t gone off once.” You argue.

               “Right and that’s the problem. You still check every ten seconds for your husband to text or call.” He holds his hand out, wiggling his fingers at you, cocking one eyebrow. “Come on. You can’t work if you’re distracted, ma’am.” His smile is bright and charming and if he wasn’t annoying you so much constantly, perhaps you could find him attractive.

               You look at your phone, feeling its dead weight in the palm of your hand. Begrudgingly, you hand it over to Wooyoung who shoves it off to the side with his phone.

               “Now we can just focus on the two of us.” He says easily and maybe you are imagining things but for a split second you wonder if he is flirting with you.

                 Night Four.

               “No, I don’t understand,” You hiss, your phone pressed hard against your cheek as you stand in the kitchen, “Not a peep out of you for days and I –”

               Your husband snaps back at you on the other line, his words dripping venom, insults flying out. Even though things have been horrible between the two of you for the last year, this is the worst he has ever been. You stand there, slack jawed, as he unleashes a horrible tirade on you. To make things worse, you swear you hear a girl giggling in the background.

               Suddenly, your phone is plucked out of your hand. Gasping, you turn around. Wooyoung has ended the call, the screen flashing twice before going dark.

               “Oops.” He says, looking up at you with a fake expression of wide-eyed innocence. “Was that important, ma’am?”

               You go to snatch your phone back but Wooyoung pulls away, the phone pressed against his chest. “That was my husband.” You hate how your voice sounds, pleading and half broken.

               “Was it? Sounded like a giant asshole to me.” Your phone is going off in his hand and he looks down at it. “Oh, now he calls you back?” Pressing ignore again, he puts your phone on silent, slipping it into his pocket. “Come on, ma’am, don’t we have a project we need to be focusing on?”

               This time when he smiles, you try to ignore the butterflies.

                 Night Five.

               “I can’t open this,” You mumble, mostly to yourself. It had been Wooyoung who convinced you to open a bottle of wine with him to celebrate a week’s worth of progress. Somehow, you allowed yourself to be talked into it and now you were attempting to uncork a second bottle, feeling thoroughly drunk.

               “What is taking so long?” Wooyoung asks as he comes into the kitchen.

               You look over your shoulder at him, unsure why you are noticing different things about him tonight – like the curve of his neck, the scent of clean laundry and some sort of deep cologne that clings to his clothes, how nice his teeth are. He is too young for you and a player – and you’re married…even though you can’t get that girl giggling out of your head.

               “Can’t open this.” You reply.

               You think he is going to come over and open it and he does… in his own way…by coming up from behind, his hands moving past your waist, grabbing the wine bottle. His chin is on your shoulder, looking down at the bottle, his entire body pressing against your back. The suddenness of it takes you back, the breath knocked out of your lungs as all your senses are overtaken by Wooyoung, of all people. You can feel his breath on your neck as he uncorks the bottle easily. His body is warm against yours and you close your eyes for a moment, blaming how you are feeling on being drunk.

               “There you go, ma’am.” Wooyoung says quietly in your ear and you aren’t sure but you think you can tell he is smiling to himself.

               He knows what he is doing to you, you try to lecture yourself.

               “You don’t like me very much, do you, ma’am?” He whispers in your ear.

               “No,” You say as you pour yourself another cup of wine, knowing you shouldn’t be talking so candidly, “You’re not good at your job.”

               Wooyoung takes the wine glass out of your hand, taking a swig of it, moving away from your body. You look at him as he takes a step backwards.

               “No, I’m not,” That smile is back, “I’m good at other things though.” And he winks as he walks out of the kitchen.

                 Night Six.

               You exhale slowly, trying to regain your composure. You have a headache from your husband and being hungover. Wooyoung is in your living room, either working or slacking off. You wish he wasn’t here. Your husband had just confirmed he was fucking someone else and the ground is shifting underneath you.

               You step into the living room and Wooyoung casts one look at your face and goes back to typing, “Did he tell you?”

               “Tell me what?” You play dumb.

               “That he’s cheating on you.”

               “W-what?” You hate that it is that obvious, “That isn’t any of your business,” You snap, losing your patience with him, “I don’t need you prying into my personal life. You should just go home now. I don’t want you here.” You are lashing out and know it, hoping your words are hurting Wooyoung.

               But if they are, he looks utterly unaffected. “No, don’t think so, ma’am. I’ll stay here to make sure you don’t do anything rash.”

               And so he stays and resentfully, you might be warming up to him…just a little.

                 Night Seven.

               The first two buttons on Wooyoung’s shirt are undone, giving you a glimpse of his chest and even though you shouldn’t stare, you can’t keep glancing at it. His hair, swept up in a ponytail, show off his neck, and when he stretches, you swear you see a hint of abs. He is sitting on the floor, laptop casually tossed the side, covering his mouth as he yawns.

               “I think we earned a break, don’t you, ma’am?”

               “You’ve treated the entire project as a break.” You say, impatiently.

               “You’re so mean to me,” He actually pouts at you, like a bratty child, “Taking your husband out on me. It isn’t my fault he’s a stupid asshole.”

               Wooyoung gets to his feet, stretching again. This time, his shirt hikes up more – God, he really does have abs. You think he is going to the kitchen but instead comes around the back of the couch, his hands going to your shoulders to knead them.

               “What are you doing?” You sigh, your hands resting flat against your laptop, “Do you think because my marriage is a joke I am going to sleep with you?”

               “Well…yes.” Wooyoung says, still rubbing your shoulders.

               He says it so casually, so confidently, that it makes you want to slap him. Instead, you grit your teeth. “Not happening.”

               “Why not?” He asks as you shake out of his grip, standing up to go get some water in the kitchen.

               “You’re too young for me, too annoying and we work together.” You say as he trails after you like a puppy.

You reach for a glass, almost crashing into Wooyoung who is directly behind you, circling around him to grab the pitcher of water out of the fridge, moving back to the counter.

               “All of those things are true and yet,” Wooyoung says as you pour the water into the glass, your back to him, “You’re forgetting one key thing in all of this.”

               “What?”

               His hands snake around your waist, startling you as some water spills across the counter. His lips are against your ear as his hands go higher, fingertips trailing across the buttons of your white work shirt. “Don’t you want to have some revenge sex on your husband?”

               Wooyoung’s hands are groping your breasts through your shirt now, squeezing them hard. He is pressed against you like earlier in the week, only this time you are perfectly sober and should be stopping this.

               “Young guys don’t know what they’re doing.” You counter, “Besides, I dislike you too much.” Revenge sex or not, it is still Wooyoung, after all…

               “The best sex comes out of that,” Wooyoung argues, “And I see the way you look at me. You might think I’m a brat, but you want to fuck me too.”

               “You couldn’t keep up with me.” This is starting to feel less like an argument and more like foreplay.

               “No, ma’am, I don’t think you could keep up with me,” His voice is low, “I play rough.”

               You shouldn’t feel as turned on as you do. Your husband never liked playing rough, could never take things far enough for you. It is a secret dark room inside you that likes being choked, slapped around, spoken to like a slut.

               “You won’t play rough enough for me.” You whisper back – no, this is definitely foreplay now, you think.

               Wooyoung smiles against his ear, knowing that he has you. “Try me.”

               You take a deep breath, deciding to give into the brat. “Fine.” If your husband could run off and fuck someone younger, why couldn’t you?

               Wooyoung’s hands tear open your shirt in one swift motion, the buttons clattering all over the counter and onto the floor, leaving your bra fully exposed. He tugs that down too, his fingers immediately gripping your tits hard, squeezing them, pinching your nipples as you gasp in surprise at the sight of your ruined shirt and exposed tits.

               One of his hands glides up to your neck where he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tender flesh there. His voice is hot in your ear as he whispers, “No more thinking the rest of the night.”

               This is such a bad idea, you try to tell yourself but it is hard to care as Wooyoung’s hand grips your neck and the other hand gropes your tits. Maybe he is right – the fact you don’t like him could lead to amazing sex. Maybe, secretly, you always wanted him and couldn’t admit it. Perhaps you will just end up another conquest in his long list. Whatever happens, whatever the reason, you don’t care about any of it – you just want to have him.

               Wooyoung is still whispering in your ear, each filthy word making your head go light, “You can let me take care of everything from here on out, mommy. I’ll be in charge.”

               He casually drops the word mommy on you. The name jolts you, making it obvious that Wooyoung is getting off on your age difference. Before you can reply, he grips your hips hard, spinning you around to face him and pressing you against the kitchen counter.

               His grin is wide and cocky, taking one of your hands to rub the hard bulge at the front of his pants. You can feel it straining against the confines of the fabric. Wooyoung licks his bottom lip before biting it as he looks at you as if he is going to devour you.

               “Have I been a pain in the ass, mommy? I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” His smile is downright dangerous. You can feel his body heat rolling off him, the scent of clean laundry, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you against the counter, “When I’m done with you, you won’t be thinking about your husband at all.” He raises one eyebrow.

               For the first time, you wonder if maybe your bravado was a bad idea. Maybe you couldn’t keep up with someone like Wooyoung – a flirt, a brat, someone who clearly likes to fuck. Maybe you are out of practice. The insecurity about the fact you are an older woman and Wooyoung is an attractive younger man wiggles into your brain.

               “No, no, no,” His voice is low now, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, “You’re thinking again. I can see it in your eyes. What did I say, mommy?”

               You go to reply but before you can, Wooyoung’s hand quickly slaps your cheek. The impact doesn’t hurt too much but it still takes you by surprise – and ignites a fire in your body that you haven’t felt in a long time.

               “What did I say, mommy?” Wooyoung demands again, smile gone.

               “You said not to think,” You answer quickly, refusing to break eye contact with him, “That you are in charge.”

               The smile returns and you think oh, I am well and truly fucked. The desire and longing you feel for the brat is overpowering.

               “That’s right,” Wooyoung says, “Time to go to your room.”

               You go to move but his grip on your arm is hard. He is shaking his head as if you’ve made a mistake. “What?” You ask.

               He points to the kitchen floor, “You can lead me there on your hands and knees.” His other hand grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks together, “That way I can watch your ass from behind.”

               You think about protesting but Wooyoung looks so pleased with himself taking control of the situation that it is almost cute. Sinking to your knees, you look up at him. That shit eating grin is back on his face; he looks incredibly confident. Never in your life did you think that you would be on your hands and knees for Wooyoung. If people knew what was going on in your apartment tonight…

               Cheeks burning with embarrassment, you crawl out of the kitchen as Wooyoung follows behind you. Naturally, he doesn’t stop talking the entire time you lead him to the bedroom, “Mommy, your ass looks good in those pants. I can’t wait to smack it and make you cum until tears roll down your cheeks. I’ll make sure there isn’t one thought in your head when I finally fuck you. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow when I’m done with you. Bratty, younger Wooyoung is going to make you cry for me.”

               His words shouldn’t be turning you on so much but they are. You can feel your pussy growing wetter as you lead him towards the bedroom. When you are finally in the middle of the bedroom, you go to stand up but Wooyoung’s hands are on your shoulders immediately.

               “No, stay there.” He commands, tilting your face up to look at him, running his thumb across your lips. You look up at him silently. “I want you to get completely naked and lay across my lap, understand?”

               “Yes, I understand.” You whisper.

               Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed as you stand up. You shrug off your ruined shirt and your bra, pulling down your pants and underwear until they are a on the floor. You can feel his eyes on you, looking you over. You wonder what he is thinking – then remember you aren’t supposed to be thinking.

               Wooyoung is still completely dressed as you lay across his lap ass up. When his hand runs across your ass, you close your eyes, inhaling sharply, trying to prepare yourself. His hand travels down further, pressing a couple of fingers against your pussy which makes you gasp in surprise.

               “I haven’t even done anything to you yet and you’re already wet,” He murmurs, “You really never thought of me like this before?”

               “No,” You say quietly, “I haven’t.” You are trying not to wiggle back on his fingers to show how much you want more.

               “That hurts my feelings, mommy,” You can hear the pout in his voice, “I’m by far the cutest most fuckable guy in the office and you didn’t want me?”

              His hand strikes your ass then. The spank is much harder than you were anticipating and you jolt, a whimper escaping your lips.

              “Why didn’t you want me?” Wooyoung asks, his hand making contact with your other cheek this time.

              The sound fills the bedroom, the pain radiating out from his smack. “B-because.”

               Another smack. Even harder that time. His voice is harsher as well. “Because why? Say it.”

             “Because you’re an annoying entitled brat.” You spit out.

             He grabs your hair, tugging it back painfully, bringing his hand down for another hard slap. “I’ll just fuck you into liking me then.”

              The next time his hand strikes your ass, it stings hard. You wiggle in his lap from the pain but Wooyoung doesn’t stop. He keeps spanking you as hard as he can until your ass is bright red. You cannot remember the last time you have been spanked – your husband thought it was odd and never did it. But Wooyoung has no hesitation.

             After what feels like ages, he stops. With one hand still gripping your hair tightly between his fingers, his other goes to your pussy, fingers probing your hole.

               “You’re drenched,” His voice is gruff, the cockiness you are so used to is gone, replaced with something else darker, “I guess it isn’t too much for a slut like you, mommy?”

             “You call that a spanking?” You gasp out, knowing that it is dangerous to push his buttons but unable to help yourself – his attitude of being so sure of himself makes you want to see how far you can take things.

              Wooyoung’s hand strikes your ass so hard that you whimper loudly, squirming in his lap. As he brings his hand down again, hitting the sensitive skin, he growls, “You really wanna play rough, mommy?”

              “You said you’re good at this but all I’m seeing is a younger guy run his mouth.”

              Wooyoung shoves you off him onto the bed, looking at you with a mix of anger and lust. He looks cute like this, you think as he tugs his belt off, dropping it to the floor, leaning forward to grab you. “I have plans for you,” He says in a way that makes your heart skip a beat with anticipation.

            “Prove it.” You tease.

             He slaps you again, hard enough to make your head go light. You can’t help but grin up at him. Originally, seeing him being so pleased with himself when he bossed you around was cute – but it is starting to become more fun to poke at him.

              “I really am your mommy because I have to show you how to do everything, don’t I?” You quip before bringing your hand down across his cheek as hard as you can.

             Wooyoung gasps, startled, his hand flying to his cheek to rest it against his skin, staring wide eyed at you as he takes in what you just did.

             Then the next second, his hands grab you roughly to your knees on the bed and his lips crush yours. The kiss is messy, sloppy, his tongue against yours, his hand on the back of your neck. Your hands go to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons, trying to get it off him. Impatiently, you tug, not caring if you ruin it. The shirt hangs off him, chest exposed when the kiss finally breaks.

             Your foreheads are touching, Wooyoung breathing hard, a glint in his eyes as he watches you look at his chest. He is fit, pure muscle and your fingertips graze against his abs.

           “Looks good, mommy?” He whispers, “Not so bad for a brat.”

             No, not so bad for a brat at all, you think as you take him in. Wooyoung pulls away from you, shrugging out of his shirt. “Stay here. I have something for you.”

             You have no idea what he could have as he ducks out of the bedroom. A few seconds later, he comes back with something familiar in his hands. He holds his hand up to dangle them in front of your face and you find yourself staring at a set of handcuffs.

            “Do you just carry these on you?” You ask, trying to ignore how quickly your heart is beating.

             Wooyoung smirks, “I brought them over special for you in case I got to fuck you tonight.”

            “Very confident in yourself.”

             “I find how much you dislike me a real turn on,” Wooyoung says, crawling on the bed towards you.

             You haven’t ever been handcuffed before but your nerves are second to how wet you are, how much you want him. “Most men wouldn’t find that hot.”

             His fingers curl around your wrists and God if you hate yourself for it but that arrogant bratty attitude of his is starting to make you really horny. “Like your husband?” He teases.

           “No, he wouldn’t like that at all.”

          Wooyoung shifts so he can pull your hands behind you, the cool metal of the handcuffs wrapping around your wrists. You hear them snap closed then he puts the key on the bedside table. His ear is against yours when he whispers, “Maybe he doesn’t deserve you like I do, mommy.”

          When Wooyoung pulls back, he is smiling. “Wanna know a secret?” He asks as he unzips his pants, grabbing the waistband of his boxers and pulling both off, throwing them off the bed. He strokes his cock which is rock hard and dripping precum; you can feel your mouth water at the sight of it. “I asked my dad to put me on the project with you.”

           Unable to tear your gaze away from Wooyoung stroking his cock, you mumble, “What?”

             “I just knew you didn’t like me and God…I wanted to fuck you so bad because of it. I’ve never had an older, married woman hate me before and all I wanted to do was fuck you and call you mommy.” His hand moves in slow leisurely pumps and fuck if he doesn’t look good as hell right now, “I guess I have some issues.” He says sheepishly.

           You struggle to reply, trying to deal with how good Wooyoung looks and the fact that he got assigned on this project just to try to fuck you. Should you be offended? The truth is…you feel sorta flattered.

           “Wanna know something else, mommy?” He asks, leaning forward to yank you up so that you are sitting, arms handcuffed behind you, looking directly in his eyes. “Everything before this moment? That was just warm up.”

            His hands are in your hair, yanking on you hard, dragging you off the bed and onto the floor with such strength that you squeak in surprise. You land on the floor awkwardly but Wooyoung is already tugging you onto your knees, his cock pressing against your mouth.

          “Open up, mommy.” Wooyoung commands and you obey.

            His cock stretches out your mouth as he forces every inch in. You squirm but his hands are on the back of your head, holding you in place as he drives his cock as far as it can go. Your tongue presses against the underside of his shaft, eyes fluttering closed as you gag on him.

             Wooyoung grunts as he forces his cock in, “Take all of it, mommy.” His hips go still, drool and spit hanging off your bottom lip and dripping onto your tits. “Look up at me.”

              You force your eyes open to look at Wooyoung, who bites his bottom lip, “Just like that. Ah, you look so pretty. This really suits you, much better than when you’re scowling at me.” He jerks his hips slightly, enough to trigger your gag reflex. “Tell me that I’m a brat now.”

            You try to speak but it is useless and he knows it. All that comes out is a bunch of garbled noise. Your clit is swollen, pussy soaking wet but you cannot touch yourself because of the handcuffs.

            “Sorry, mommy, I couldn’t understand you,” He begins to rock his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth, “Try it now.”

           “You’re a –” Your words get cut off as Wooyoung’s cock fills your mouth, striking the back of your throat, sending the word ‘brat’ into a garbled mess.

          Wooyoung groans loudly, pulling his cock out of your mouth. He smears it across your face, covering you in his precum and your drool. Grabbing your face, he squeezes your cheeks together again until your mouth is open slightly. He spits in your mouth directly, bringing his hand hard across your face with another brisk slap.

           “Again.” He commands before forcing his cock back down your throat.

            More noise, more gagging, more precum and spit and drool and a mess being made all over your tits. Your head is deliciously empty now. The only thing you care about is how Wooyoung has complete control over you. Your failed marriage is far away, a distant cloud in the horizon.

           “Look up at me.” Wooyoung orders at some point – you have lost track of time, your head is hazy, throat sore from being fucked. You look up at him, tasting his precum against your tongue, the need to cum starting to overpower the rest of what remains of your mind.

            “You want me to fuck you?”

             When you speak, his cum makes sticky strands in your open mouth, “Y-yes.”

           “You still think I’m a brat?”

            You know you could say he isn’t, cave in and say you take it back. But you still can’t find it in yourself to give Wooyoung what he wants.

           “Yes,” You mumble, closing your eyes, preparing for the slap.

            Wooyoung doesn’t disappoint, sending pleasure and pain through your body, dropping to his knees in front of you, his fingers prying open your mouth, jamming two past your lips. Eyes half lidded with desire, you look at him as your tongue swirls in circles against his fingers. His other hand is curled around your neck.

             “I can see it in your eyes. Your head going empty, no thoughts in there besides me,” Wooyoung’s voice is soft, filling your brain like cotton, “You like pressing my buttons, mommy?”

            You nod, suckling on his fingers, wishing he would put them in your cunt already. Wooyoung watches you, looking entranced, eyes never leaving your lips as his hand drops from your neck down to your pussy, brushing against your clit. You gasp – the touch makes every nerve in your body awaken, groaning against his fingers.

              Wooyoung doesn’t stop. His finger rubs your clit hard and fast and it doesn’t take long for you to suddenly be climaxing against them. Moaning around his fingers, you rock your hips, eyes closing as the pleasure rolls over you. Your entire body is warm, pussy sticky, and when you finish, Wooyoung pulls out his fingers and replaces the ones in your mouth with the ones covered in your cum.

              You can taste yourself on them, wondering why Wooyoung already got you off. There is a look in his eyes that makes you think he still has more planned and when he pulls his fingers out, he grabs you by the arms and pulls you to your feet. Pushing you back onto the bed, he grips your thighs and spreads your legs apart.

            “Gonna make you cum over and over now, mommy,” is all he says before his tongue drags against your folds.

              You try to move but you are laying on your arms, still stuck in the handcuffs. Wooyoung is relentless on your cunt, two fingers slipping in your hole, his mouth wrapped around your overly sensitive clit, sucking on it, flicking his tongue over it. Gasping, you wiggle underneath him but he doesn’t move his mouth. Make you cum until tears roll down your cheeks is what Wooyoung said to you earlier tonight and he seems to be ready to prove it.

            Against your pussy, his words muffled, you hear him say, “Mommy, you taste so good. I’ve eaten a lot of older women out and trust me…your pussy tastes the best. And you look so good when you cum...I think I’ll keep making you cum until you warm up to me.” His tongue is back against your clit, flicking across it rapidly as he pumps his fingers deep inside you.

           Your back arches, head rolling back as Wooyoung expertly eats you out. No one has made such short work of you before – certainly not your husband – and within a few minutes you are climaxing again.

           This time, before you can stop yourself, you moan out Wooyoung’s name. You can hear him laugh when you do.

           “Oh, that’s what I wanted to hear,” He says wickedly.

            Gasping for air, you look down at him. Wooyoung’s hair has fallen out of his ponytail, framing his face, his body lean and taunt – god, he looks so good –

            “Again.” He orders, bringing his face back down to your cunt.

            “Wooyoung, I can’t,” You pant, “Not that close together.”

           “No, no, mommy, I’m gonna show you exactly what I can do.” Wooyoung growls out like a promise.

           Then he is back to work. You lose track of how many times he forces an orgasm out of you, how long Wooyoung is working your pussy with his fingers and tongue. Each time takes longer and more work but he still doesn’t stop. Each orgasm is intense, leaving you begging for him to stop but he keeps going. You grind your pussy against his face, taste his fingers when he puts them in your mouth, listen to how he urges you to cum as he brings you to climax again and again.

              “Am I a brat?” He asks after every orgasm as you groan out his name, head rolling back, entire body covered in sweat. All you have to do is say no and you know he would stop but you can’t bring yourself to – some part of you loves being tortured like this, some part of you wants to still try to beat him at his own game.

            “Y-yes,” You say so hoarsely that you don’t even sound like yourself anymore and he goes back down on you.

            At some point, Wooyoung gets you off again, his fingers are back in your mouth and he looks so happy as he says, “Mommy, you’re so pretty when you have those tears running down your cute cheeks,” You haven’t even realized you were crying from overstimulation, “I guess you’re seeing what a younger man can do. You ready for another one?” and he starts again.

            Eventually, you start to accept that Wooyoung is better at this than you. Your body aches, your clit is raw, and you can’t stop crying from all the climaxes he brings out of you. Your arms are still behind your back with handcuffs around your wrists. You don’t understand how he hasn’t slowed at all – surely his tongue and fingers must be sore? Surely, he must badly need to cum himself?

            After a particularly long drawn-out climax, Wooyoung is wiping the tears from your cheeks and says, “I can do this for as long as you want. Better to just tell me I’m not a brat, mommy, so I can cum in that nice pussy of yours,” He pats your pussy gently, “Do you think still think I’m a brat?” His fingers brush against your swollen clit and you gasp in pain.

            Your resolve crumbles and before you can stop yourself, you whimper loudly, “No, no, Wooyoung, I don’t think you’re a brat.” Your voice is pleading.

             He smiles, fingers grazing your clit again, “You like me now then?”

             You nod your head wildly, trying to wiggle away from his fingers, tears running down your cheeks, “Yes, yes, I like you. I like you, Wooyoung, I’ve always liked you, I just didn’t think you’d want someone older like me.” The truth comes spilling out of your mouth like the water you spilled across the counter hours ago, “Someone older and married. It was e-easier to be mean to y-you,” You sob.

            Mercifully, he pulls his hand away, grabbing something off the night table – the handcuff key, you realize, as he undoes the cuffs, helping you move your arms to the front of you. You wince, muscles protesting as Wooyoung shifts his position, bringing your legs around his waist. He spits on his cock, jerking himself off.

            “One more thing,” He says, eyes flicking up, “Tell me you’re my mommy.”

           As Wooyoung waits for your words, his cock begins to enter you. He takes his time because each inch hurts to take. But you still take it because you desperately want his load in you – to have done all of this and not have him finish in you would be a crime. He groans as he stretches your sore hole out, looking down at you.

             Quietly, cheeks blushing because even though he has done and said way worse to you tonight, you are still embarrassed to say something like this aloud, you say, “I’m your mommy.”

          Wooyoung’s eyes close, jerks his hips once, twice, three times in you, mouth opening in pleasure as the orgasm he has yet to have all night finally breaks. “M-mommy…f-fuck!” He grunts as he begins to finish inside you.

           You can feel his warm seed spilling in your sore hole, coating your walls, emptying his balls inside you – this man who is not your husband and is too young for you – cocky, bratty Wooyoung filling you up with a load so big that you know it is running out of your hole, filling you to the brim.

            He pulls out of you, collapsing on the bed, trying to catch his breath. You feel like a train has hit you but it is a weirdly pleasant feeling. Your entire body aches and you couldn’t move or think even if you tried. Your eyes close as Wooyoung gets off the bed. You can’t even bring yourself to care that he must be getting up and leaving. You can chide yourself tomorrow for giving in to him.

            You are almost asleep when you feel the weight back on the bed. Surprised, you open your eyes a little to see Wooyoung. He leans forward and brings a cold cloth against your cheeks, wiping your face clean and then dabbing your skin with the cloth.

         You manage to make your mouth work, “Thought you left.” You mumbled.

           Wooyoung stops for a moment, “Left?” He sounds surprised but your eyes are closed again and you can’t see his face, “No, I’m not leaving.”

          The cloth is gone, replaced by Wooyoung very gently rolling you onto your side before wrapping his arms around you. His fingers trail along your back, his body warm. You weren’t expecting this – not Wooyoung being gentle, not him staying to hold you. Your body relaxes into his, nuzzling into his chest.

         “Call out of work tomorrow,” He urges quietly, “I’ll run you a bath in the morning. We can order in.”

          Almost asleep, you whisper tiredly, “You wanna hang around that much?”

         His lips press against the top of your head gently, “Of course I do. You said it yourself earlier…you’re my mommy.”

        In your muddled state, you realize you have once again underestimated Wooyoung. For all his bravado about being a cocky bastard, he did want one thing most of all: you. You can’t help but snuggle up closer to him, too tired to reply. His arms are warm around you, keeping you safe.

         It doesn’t take long to fall asleep against Wooyoung - no longer a brat but becoming something else entirely to you.              

PART TWO HERE.

#wooyoung x reader #ateez smut #ateez fics #kpop fic #try me #100 notes #200 notes

[nejiraez]

omg have u seen that tiktok trend where the girl gets on her knees and ties her hair up in front of her bf and he thinks he’s gonna get the slobby knobby 2000 only for the girl to grab something under the bed? if not, check out the “Asshole” audio on tiktok. but if it’s possible could i request baku, kiri & shouto in this scenario 🥺👉🏾👈🏾

again, usually i’d write three character requests in hc form but these were fun so take these drabbles! genre: suggestive!

© all rights reserved to bnhatrashh. reposting is NOT allowed on any platforms along with modifying/translating and straight up plagiarism. however reblogs are okay

Bakugou Katsuki

Is Bakugou a bit peeved that you teased him into thinking that he was about to get his dick sucked? Absolutely.

You even went the extra mile to graze his knees with the palms of your hands before you dipped down to grab the remote control you had “accidentally” dropped prior. You were trying to seduce him and you succeeded without fail.

Don’t even try coming back up to apologize or laugh, the heel of Bakugou’s foot is already digging into your shoulder to push you away.

"Get lost, you’re not funny."

You blink and bite back a smile at the situation, despite his grouchy mood. Because you're a moron. "Awh, Katsuki!" You brush your hand across his leg and a taunting pout tugs at the corners of your lips. This further provokes him to jerk his leg forward, creating more of a distance between you two. “Is somebody upset?”

Again, Bakugou isn't angry, it's just that you've got him all revved up and ready to go only to be slapped with the harsh reality of denial.

Bakugou scoffs. "Dumbass," he says, face seared with a warm red hue, he's sure.

And with that, he abandons his spot before you on the couch to stalk off to the master bedroom. Probably let off some steam or to handle the impending situation in his pants himself since you won't.

Just let him have his moment. He'll be back to his old snarky self in a few hours or so.

Kirishima Eijirou

The way Kirishima handles this prank of yours is honestly kinda cute, so much so that you couldn't even bring yourself to the point of filling him in on what you were doing nor carry through with cockblocking him.

"Babe?"

The instant Kirishima is graced with the sight of you gathering your hair into a ponytail as you fall onto your knees in between his thighs, he wastes no time whatsoever. Everything that he was busied with before you came into the room? That's all abandoned now.

Poor baby is already sitting on the bed with his dick out in all its glory before you could even bend down underneath the bed in a blind search for whatever item you could find.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting..." The tone of Kirishima's voice wavers, growing shy at the thought that you'd gift him with a blowjob out of the blue like this. "You know," he gestures a sheepish hand between you and his lap, "this."

The way his eyes are cast down on you, filled with admiration and excitement left you speechless. All this because he thought he was about to get his dick sucked. Turning him down now would be akin to denying a puppy away from the love and affection they so rightfully deserbe.

It's okay that this started as a light joke, but now you just gotta suck his dick. You just got to. Take one for the team and suck. His. Dick.

Todoroki Shouto

Todoroki would probably be the most confused boyfriend out of the bunch.

His eyes would burn holes into your form as he watches you push back the strands of hair from your face before you embark on your journey downwards. Down towards his awaiting lap, completely neglecting his clothed dick and straight towards the controller that went astray under the couch.

"Oh... okay," he voices, a bit dejected at the fact that your head was completely out from his view. Every ounce of hope that he had of you reaching for the zipper of his jeans were thrown out the window once you retreat up with the TV's controller in tow.

You hum with content and shake the remote for extra emphasis. "Found it~!" 

Your movements were slow and calculated, you even use Todoroki's knees as leverage to hoist yourself back up again. That's when he keyed in onto your evident indications of wanting to get a rise out of him, to see his reaction to your tricks.

Clearing his throat, Todoroki shifts in his seat and tugs at the fabric of his jeans, hoping to relieve a bit of the tightness that he was experiencing in pants. 

There's a curt moment of silence that's shared between you both once you position yourself beside your boyfriend once again.

"So," Todoroki's eyes are still trained on the movie that plays before you. The bright images from the screen illuminated his face, as he takes a moment to piece together the words he planned on saying next. "I suppose this means no oral tonight, yes?"

"Shouto-"

I mean, it’s natural why he still presses on, he is a guy with hormones after all. 

© all rights reserved to bnhatrashh. reposting is NOT allowed on any platforms along with modifying/translating and straight up plagiarism.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha imagine

[alwaysthegeorges]

My Red Haired Boy - Ron Weasley x Fem!Reader

Summary - Ron realizes his feelings for you. Little does he know you have been hiding some feelings of your own.

Warnings - angst, s.m.u.t!!!, fluff, mutual pining, language

Word Count - 3.1k

a/n - ron has my WHOLE HEART lemme tell you. my boy. my baby. my everything. loml (besides luna ofc).

!gif not mine!

You and Draco were friends and had been since third year. He was one of your closest friends, and you saw him like a brother. Ron knew that, and he knew you would never see Draco in that way. Even with that knowledge, his blood boiled when he saw you two sit together in Potions every day, Draco being so close to you instead of him. His heart ached and his face turned redder than his hair when he watched the two of you. Draco putting his hands on your shoulders, making you smile. Ron loved to see you smile, loved how it lit up the room, but for some reason when it was Draco making you laugh, his heart burned. He wanted to be the one making your nose scrunch and making you laugh until your face turned red. Yet you were so far away, letting Draco take in that beautiful smile in its full glory. Ron wasn’t one to get jealous. He wasn’t one for angry disputes and yelling. He got enough of that from his ex-girlfriend. But when it was you, the one person who’s stuck besides him through everything (besides Harry), he couldn’t help but be a little jealous.

He couldn’t tell when his feelings had started to change. One minute, you were his best friend, and another minute, you were more. He started to notice the little things you did unintentionally, like when you picked at your fingers when you were nervous or chewed on your bottom lip. He noticed how you tried to get your hair to be less frizzy when you put it up in a ponytail, and how you became frustrated when it only seemed to get worse. He noticed how your eyes scrunched along with your nose when you smiled. He loved it all. Since he noticed your little face scrunches, he would try extra hard to make you smile, craving to see that little twinkle in your eye. He would all of a sudden get nervous when you sat next to him or pushed the hair out of his face. They were all normal things you did, but since he had been looking at you differently, it meant more to him. He wasn’t sure what these feelings were. He knew he wanted to be beside you at all times, making you laugh and cheering you up when you were upset. It was hard for him to imagine a life without you, even when he only saw you as his best friend. Ron’s stomach dropped whenever he thought about not being able to see your face everyday. He definitely felt more than friendship towards you. Was he going to tell you? Absolutely fucking not. One day in the courtyard, you barreled into his arms, a huge smile plastered on your face. You almost knocked him over with the force of your hug, which had a running start.

“Woah, hello there!” Ron laughed, a bit out of breath (since you knocked into him).

“Hi!” you beamed. “You won’t guess what happened just now!”

“And what would that be?” he asked, pulling you away slightly so he could study your face.

“Ya girl has got a date! Can you believe it?!” you said, an excited expression gracing your features. Ron’s heart sank into his stomach hearing those words come out of your mouth.

“A date?” he asked, voice small.

“Yeah,” you said, face falling a little at his tone. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

“Of course!” he replied, plastering on a fake smile. You weren’t buying it, but didn’t feel like arguing at the moment. “I need all the details. Who, where, when, etc. Go.”

You sat down with Ron on a stone bench, preparing mentally.

“Umm okay, well, Seamus asked me if I’d like to go to Hogsmeade with him this weekend, and I said yes!”

“Finnigan?”

“Yeah! He’s not really my type, but I thought, he’s cute enough. Why not give him a chance, right?”

“Totally,” Ron replied, a little grim.

“What’s wrong with you?” That got his attention. His head snapped back up, eyes meeting yours.

“Nothing’s wrong. Why would something be wrong?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking. You just got all gloomy all of a sudden. What’s up with you?”

“It’s nothing, (Y/N). What were you saying? He’s not your type?” You rolled your eyes at his dodging, but continued.

“Yeah, he’s not someone I’d generally go for, but since someone hasn’t manned up and asked me out yet, I might as well give Seamus a shot.”

“Ah yes, someone. The mysterious crush you won’t let me know about. And here I thought we didn’t keep any secrets from each other!” he exclaimed dramatically. He said it to be funny, but a part of him wanted to crawl away and hide. No secrets, except for the nasty one he was keeping from you.

“We don’t! I just don’t think you’d react well if I told you who it was, so I’m zipping my lips!” You made a scene to pretend to zip your lips with your fingers, earning a chuckle from Ron.

“Oh come on, (Y/N), just give me a hint. I won’t judge, I swear it.”

“You definitely will, but fine. What would you like to know? Besides who it is, of course.” Ron had many things he’d like to know, but thought he’d start out with an easy question to get the ball rolling.

“Let’s see,” he pretended to think for a moment. “What color is their hair?”

“That was the one question I was hoping you weren’t going to ask! It’s going to be so obvious now,” you complained, burying your head in your hands.

“Just means I’ll be able to find out sooner and make fun of you sooner. Go on, then.”

“You said you wouldn’t judge, Ronald!” you scolded, playfully hitting him in the arm. You both chuckled.

“I said I wouldn’t judge, not that I wouldn’t make fun of you,” he pointed out.

“UGH, fine. His hair….. is red.” 

Your face immediately began heating up. Ron tried to hide his surprise, but his wide eyes were not helping him much. He sat in silence for a few moments due to shock, and it was making you more nervous by the second. You prayed he didn’t figure out your massive crush on him already.

“Well? Are you going to say anything?”

More silence.

“If it’s George or Fred, I will kill you.” You laughed at his semi-joke.

You decided it was time to leave the conversation before he finds out any more, so you hopped up and briskly walked off, ignoring his calls to you. Once you were out of his sight, you bolted to your dorm, hoping the other students wouldn’t notice the look of pure panic on your face as you raced past them. Once you were in your room, you flopped down on your bed face-first. You couldn’t stop replaying the scene, his almost-horrified expression haunting your thoughts. He had to know you were talking about him. It was so damn obvious. The playful winks you’d send, asking him for help with classes when you didn’t really need it, blushing every time he’d look over at you. He had to know. A knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. You mumbled a barely audible “who is it” before you heard it open and close again. You could feel his presence, slightly nervous. Instead of meeting his gorgeous blue eyes, you kept your head buried in your pillows and waited for him to speak.

“Now you’ve got to tell me. If you don’t, I might just go on the rest of my days thinking my best friend has a crush on my brothers,” he chuckled nervously, sitting down on the side of your bed.

“Can’t,” you mumbled.

“(Y/N),” he pleaded, his tone begging you to look at him. You did. “Please.” You sat up, throwing your legs over the side of your bed. You were now sitting next to the boy you had the biggest crush on, and your fingers twitched with anxiety. You unconsciously picked at them, skin still rough and peeling from the last time you were anxious about a quiz. Ron noticed this, and reached over to grab your hands gently. 

“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?” he said in an almost whisper.

“I know.” 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. He continued to look at you, still anxiously waiting for you to tell him who this mysterious ginger you had such a huge crush on was. You took a deep breath before continuing. 

“It’s you,” you said, so quiet that the silence almost drowned it out. Ron could’ve sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment. He squeezed your hands a little tighter.

“What?” he asked, almost out of breath. He needed to make sure he heard you right. You finally met his eyes once more.

“It’s you, Ron. I like you, a lot. I like you so much that I was about to go on a date with a guy I’m not attracted to whatsoever just so I could try to get over you. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“This doesn’t ruin anything,” he replied. His face unconsciously inched toward yours.

“How?”

“It doesn’t ruin a thing, because I like you too. I like you so much that I just about punched Malfoy for touching your shoulder in Potions,” he laughed. You giggled, and Ron’s heart swelled at the beautiful sound.

“So what does this mean?” you asked. At this point, your faces were so close your noses were almost touching. Ron still held onto your hands lovingly.

“It means I would like to kiss you now.”

With that, you leaned in to close the gap. His lips brushed gently across yours, making sparks go off inside you. The butterflies in your stomach continued to flap their wings, but faster than before. Ron brought one of his hands up to cup your face, stroking your cheek lightly with his thumb as he kissed you. He kissed you and kissed you until it felt like you had no air, but you weren’t complaining. This would be a hell of a way to go out. You deepened the kiss, letting your hands roam up his body and into his hair. You tugged just slightly, and he let out a groan that you wished you could hear forever. He leaned you back onto your pillows, you happily complying and laying back gently. Once you were comfortable, you ran your hand down his back, grabbing at the material of his shirt. His tongue slipped into your mouth and you accepted it openly, loving every second of what was happening. You wrapped one of your legs around his hip, pulling him closer to you. He let out another one of those beautiful groans as you pulled him closer and closer to your body. Eventually you had to come up for air, so Ron took this opportunity to kiss down your jawline. He reached your neck, quickly finding a spot on it that made porn-worthy moans spill from your mouth. He smiled into your skin as he peppered marks all over. You moved your hand up his shirt, running your fingers lightly over his nicely chiseled abs. You mentally thanked quidditch. Ron removed his mouth from your skin just long enough to whisper in your ear.

“Let me make love to you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat at the delicate words. You used your hands to slowly peel off Ron’s shirt, letting you see his freckled skin in all its glory. He returned to you, kissing you slowly, carefully. 

“Is that a yes?” he asked when he pulled away.

“Yes Ron. Please make love to me.”

Ron wasted no more time, allowing you to take off your own shirt and bra. He stared for a moment in awe at how breathtaking you were. His pause made you nervous, so you tried to cover yourself with your arms. Before you could cover too much, he stopped you, pulling your arms away and pinning them to the bed. 

“Don’t hide from me. You’re perfect,” he said gently, planting another soft kiss on your lips. 

His words and the look he gave you, one of pure admiration, made you smile and relax a bit. You let Ron kiss down your face, your neck, and your torso. You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the feeling of him. He paid close attention to each of your nipples, causing you to arch your back as he swirled his tongue around them. He continued to kiss down your body until he reached your shorts. Ron paused, looking up to you. You gave him a nod, letting him know you didn’t change your mind, and he grinned mischievously. You gulped, suddenly slightly nervous about what the playful look in his eye was for. Ron hooked his fingers on your waistband, keeping eye contact with you as he slowly pulled the garments down. He threw them to the side and placed his hands on your hips, rubbing slow circles on them as he kissed you. 

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

“Completely.”

He kissed you again, grateful that you would let him take care of you. Ron used his broad hands to pull you down the bed slightly towards him, and you gave a small squeal at the sudden movement. He smiled at you before kissing you again. You could tell through his kisses that he wanted to take his time to make you feel good. You were too preoccupied with kissing him to notice one of his hands trail from your his to your clit. You squirmed with the new sensation, gasping into Ron’s mouth as he rubbed small circles with his thumb. His other hand cradled your head as he continued to give you deep, slow kisses. You were loving every second of this. You loved the tingly sensations he gave you as he rubbed figure eights over your clit. You loved his loving kisses, how his tongue explored your mouth with such care. 

His thumb started moving faster over your sensitive bud, causing you to cry out. Ron whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. You grabbed at the biceps that was holding his weight above you, letting him know wordlessly that you were close. With your warning, he removed his fingers from you completely. 

“Ron,” you whined at him. “Why? I was so close!”

“Because I like seeing you squirm under me, darling,” he said with a wink. His words sent chills down your spine. 

You squeezed Ron’s bicep and looked up into his eyes. The mischievous glint was back. He smiled down at you before kissing your forehead. As he leaned in to kiss you, he put his thumb back on your clit, but didn’t move it. All he did was add a little pressure, and it caused you to cry out again. 

“Have to keep it down, love. Don’t want anyone walking in on us, now do we?” he asked. You shook your head.

Still keeping the pressure on your clit, Ron used one of his fingers to slowly slide in and out of you, setting an extremely slow pace.

“So wet for me, darling. So wet.”

“Ron, please,” you pleaded.

“What would you like, love?”

“I need you to go faster.”

“As you wish,” he said before capturing your mouth with his.

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Ron was thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a rapid pace. He curled his fingers just right inside every time, and you were practically screaming his name. You couldn’t get out even a single sentence. No one has ever made you feel this good before, and you were glad it was Ron that was taking such good care of you. Before you knew it, you were tumbling over the edge, his name fresh on your lips. Ron helped you ride out your high and pulled his fingers out, letting you have a second to process and adjust to what had just happened. You were out of breath, but still pulled him in for a passionate kiss, holding onto the sides of his face. You kept whispering thank yous to him as he placed his body between your legs. He was still half-clothed, which you just now noticed.

“Ron?”

“What is it?” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect,” you responded, shaking your head. “But now it’s your turn.”

It was your turn to give him a mischievous smile. He quickly unbuckled his pants and threw them to the floor alongside all of your clothes. His hard-on was straining uncomfortably against his boxers. You reached down and pulled him free. He let out a gentle moan as you pumped him a few times, precum already leaking from his tip. Ron stopped you before you could do anything else and lined himself up with your entrance. You held precious eye contact as he entered you. Small whimpers unintentionally slipped from your lips. You adjusted quickly to his large size. Ron brought both your hands above your head, holding them in place with only one of his hands. He used the other hand to rub your clit slowly and he slammed his cock roughly in and out of you. The combination of the words he spoke to you and his speed had you on edge in minutes, and he was right there with you. Ron released your hands and bent to hug your body close to his as he continued his rhythm. You ran your nails over his back as you came, him not far behind. You collapsed next to each other, breathless and happy. 

When your breath returned to normal, Ron pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you protectively. You smiled into his chest and used one of your hands to draw small circles on his shoulders. You sat in silence for a while, just being in each other’s presence. Ron finally broke the silence after what felt like ages.

“Please don’t go on that date with Finnigan,” Ron said, looking down to meet your eyes.

“And why not?” you asked him playfully.

“Because I love you.” You felt your heart skip a beat. Time seemed to slow along with your breathing.

“You love me?”

“Yes,” he said, kissing your cheek. “And I’d like you to be my girlfriend. If you’ll have me, of course.”

“Well, if you insist,” you said sarcastically, reaching up to give him a sweet kiss. “And I love you too.”

The two of you drifted off the sleep peacefully in each other’s arms, excited for what the future may hold.

~masterlist~

https://alwaysthegeorges.tumblr.com/post/655946118423773184/alwaysthegeorges-masterlist

#hp #hp fanfic #ron weasley #ronald weasley #how dare you steal that car #ron weasley x reader #ronald weasley x reader #ron weasley could step on me and id thank him #draco malfoy #flying car #ron's flying car #ron weasley smut #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley angst #ronald weasley angst #weasley #weasley twins #weasley wizard wheezes

[doumaistrash]

Ruined Childhood AU

A/n: So since I follow @my-gunpowder and @papermachette and @lethalamigos I thought: "Why the hell don't I create my own AU, but with my OCs in the mix with Chepe, José and Bruno." Welp so here we are. I've decided that I'm gonna do something productive once in my life and practice my writing/drawing skills. Soooo this is happening huh? Note that this one shot and the ones that follow after them are only drabbles or previews of the fanfiction that I'm gonna write soon. They are practice for the relationships and what a character thinks of the other. Also i hope i don't write them too ooc (i'm to scared to ask T-T) Defenetly not nervous about that at all (also me hiding behind a wall anxiously). Ahem anyway take this first drabble(?) And sketch of Emiliano. This is an angsty one shot between him and José wich also takes place in the rough love au. Soooo yeah.... I hope you enjoy it....

Warning!: since i seemingly can't do a read more thingy here i'm just gonna say there are a few trigger warnings: chocking, death threats and some more

First Drabble: Emiliano & José

"Well if it isn't the homewrecker." José looked up from his task that he was doing. There he stood, the towering Emiliano Madrigal, in all his angry glory.

Emiliano was one of Brunos children, the other being Javier Madrigal, and was known for his strong temper and brash personality. His reputation was pretty much in the negative, because unlike his older twin (god bless that kind soul) Emiliano had a scary scowl on his face 24/7. A shame really. José thought. Because his late mothers genes were the most prominent on him. His seemingly soft delicate features being ruined by his angry grimace, his long black hair that was soft to the touch, looked like a birds nest most of the time, even if he put it together in a half ponytail.

It also didn't help that he was a towering 200 cm. He even made his príma Luisa look like a small child. This combination of his appearance made him earn the name 'The Boogieman'. A man that haunts your dreams and makes your worst nightmare real. And it fit Emiliano, if his gift had anything to say about it. But José shook his head. He had to focus on the matter at hand.

"Excuse me?" José knew that Emiliano was... not a nice person. He wasn't stupid. He heared the rumors on the street and in his past interactions with the young man he could tell that Emiliano hated him with his whole being. He was only ever polite, because he wanted to make his Papá and hermano happy. And José understood that, he could sympathize with that. But this. This was new.

Emiliano's scowl deepend at Josés question. This was not good. "Don't play stupid on me! Don't even dare to pretend like we don't know what you do behind Papás back!" Josés eyes went wide and he froze, his whole body going stif. How did he know about that? Emiliano narrowed his eyes. This reaction was all he needed. "You know when mí hermano came and told me about your... little adventures. I first didn't believe him. But then he showed me..."

Javier Madrigal, the other half of Emiliano. His gift allowed him to travel through time, show things that already happened or will happen. Him and his younger brother had many differences but one thing they had in common since their birth was, that they are both deadly protective of their Papá. Hurting Bruno was a basically a death wish in their eyes. It wouldn't be suprising that Javier showed his hermanito that he and Chepe... José snapped out of thoughts as Emiliano continued to speak in a flat voice, his green eyes were staring blankly at José. Like he was staring into his soul. José felt a shiver go down his spine.

"You know... I actually quite liked you. I thought: 'Maybe. Just maybe José isn't as bad as he seems. Maybe he can take care of Papá afterall.' But then this? How low do you have to fall to do this? And with Tío Chepe no less." Josés eyes were wide, he was in shock. He never knew that Emiliano would begin to like him. He thought that the boy would never accept him. But he proved him wrong. So José tried to apolegize.

"Emiliano." The young man clentched his hands so tight that they began to shake. "I know what I did was wrong." José saw the boy bite his lips in anger. So much that they started to bleed. "But you have to understand that that it was a mistake and I'm sorry. Could you give me a second chance?" José smiled a gentle smile but he wasn't ready for what came next.

"A second chance? A second chance?!" Emiliano began to laugh hysterically. "A second chance fOR WHAT?! TELL ME! WHAT?! SO THAT YOU CAN HURT PAPÁ AGAIN?!" José took a step back. At first he was suprised at Emilianos outburst but the he looked on in worry as fat angry tears rolled down the boys face. "DO YOU HAVE EVEN THE SLIGHTEST IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?! DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW MUCH PAPÁ WOULD HURT FROM THIS IF HE FOUND OUT?! FOUND OUT THAT YOU LEFT AGAIN?!" José flinched. "LEFT HIM AGAIN?! DO YOU?!" The tattooed man looked ashamed at the ground. "No. I don't-" "OF COURSE YOU DON'T! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH PAPÁ CRIED AFTER MAMÁ DIED! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH HE CRIED EVERY NIGHT FOR HER OR YOU TO COME HELP HIM! HOW HE HAD TO HIDE IT FROM US WHEN WE WERE NEAR! HOW TÍA PEPA AND TÍA JULIETA HAD TO HELP HIM CARE FOR US BECAUSE HE COULDN'T LOOK US IN THE FACE! BECAUSE IT WOULD REMIND HIM OF HIS MISTAKES! HOW AFRAID HE WAS TO LOSE US TOO! HE COULDN'T EVEN LEAVE US ALONE FOR ONE SECOND BECAUSE HE WAS SO SCARED! ALL BECAUSE YOU LEFT!"

José couldn't move. The whole world seemed to stop and slow down. The only thing moving was the young boy in front of him. Screaming at him and waving his arms around in anger as more tears escaped his eyes. Eyes that held so much hurt for his father. A father who had to hide that he was hurting himself, so he could watch over the only important people that were left in his life. Josés eyes began to water themself as he took a few steps to stand in front of Emiliano. God where did they go so wrong?

"Emiliano... I..." "-You deserve everything that's happened to you..." José stopped in his tracks shell shocked. Did he hear that right? Emiliano with tears and snot running down his face, as if he read his thoughts, repeated with a scratchy voice. "You deserve everything that's happened to you." José began to breathe faster. "Above all your daughters death and your ex-wife leaving you." Shut up. "Someone like you doesn't deserve happiness." Shut up! "People like you should always suffer." Shut up!! "You should just kneel over and die... Maybe join your daughter in hell were you both belong." "I SAID SHUT UP!" José saw red as he grabbed Emiliano by the front of his green ruana. The boy letting out a choked noise of suprise but José couldn't care less. His gaze was dark and deadly. "If you ever talk about Sasha like that again. I swear that I'm going to kill you." Emiliano let out a wheeze as José squeezed. He began to claw at the hand that held his ruana. He was scared but José didn't let go. "I'll make your life a living hell-" A scared whimper.

Papá!

José, with wide terrified eyes, looked at the scene infront of him. He was holding Emiliano tightly by the front of his ruana, grabbing it so hard that the fabric dug deep into the boys neck. So that he couldn't breathe. Emiliano with scared bloodshot eyes looked at him with fear. Clawing at the hand that held him, trying desperately to get free. Choked off sobs and whimpers left him.

José quickly go and Emiliano doubled over. He began to cough and gasp for air, while wrapping a hand over his neck protectively. The older man looked at his shaking hand. What has he done? He hurt the son of the person that he loved. He was a monster. The boy looked at him one more time with wide eyes and then turned away running. José wanted to call out to him but stopped himself. It was too late. He hurt a boy.

A boy that just wanted to protect his father.

#encanto oc #encanto #fanart #art #bruno madrigal #fankids #jose/chepe #my art #oc x oc #jose/bruno #ruined childhood au #rough love au #chepe oc #jose oc #bruno madrigal x oc #bruno madrigal x child oc #i'm actually really scared to post this #still i hope you guys like it #because i love your ocs and your aus

[blossomingimagines]

Icarus

Harley Quinn x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,703

Summary: Like Icarus she had flown too close to the sun and fell-- though you were certain the fall Icarus suffered from wasn't a descent into madness. It was unfortunate that she had always been your own sun. Always pulling you in no matter how far you may go to escape. You just hope you won't get too close this time. As you were sure this fall would be the greatest of all.

Notes: I saw this idea floating about and decided to give it a try. Hopefully it isn't too disappointing for you all. This is going to be left open-ended in case you all want more in this universe, which I don't know if you will. (You knew Harley Quinn before she was Harley Quinn. You were rivals, in whatever capacity, and she always beat you. Until suddenly you were her therapist at Arkham.)

I also got the idea from @kiraimagine. (Wanted to give credit where credit is due as this idea was a really good one and I enjoyed writing it.)

Warnings: Mental illnesses as depicted in Arkham.

The tale of Icarus was one that you were familiar with. How he had dreamed of something for his entire life and that had ended up being his downfall. Flying too close to the sun, despite the many warnings beforehand, and his plummet back to Earth. It was a tale that you associated with personally. For you were Icarus-- wanting something so bad that you would do anything to achieve it. No matter how far you would fall because of it.

Harleen Quinzel was your sun.

You had known her for most of your life. Meeting on the playground at the start of fifth grade-- you had tripped over something and ended up sprawled in front of her and her friends. Her golden-white locks pulled back into a loose ponytail as she stood above you. Her blue eyes mocking as she took in your expression. You had scrambled to your feet with fumbling apologies escaping your mouth. Your face became as red as the shirt she had been wearing. Despite your efforts, however pathetic they may have been, she had barely given you a second glance before walking away. Her ever-loyal posse following along like lap dogs. And, even as you turned to head back towards your friends, you couldn’t get her bright blue eyes out of your head. Making you feel like you were falling all over again. 

From then on a rivalry was born between the two of you-- whether you were aware of it or not. You were a person that wasn’t even in the same galaxy as her radar and suddenly you became the direct center of it. Whatever things you took interest in, Harleen always followed. Of course, it always looked like a complete coincidence that she ended up taking the same courses as you. Always excelling at everything she put her mind to-- you in a close second. 

Even as you aged, going from knobby-kneed kids to maturing teenagers, Harleen had made it her mission in life to always one-up you. To always make sure that she was around no matter what. The first day of your sophomore year had been a clear indicator of that fact.

The crowded hallways of Gotham High were roaring with life. From incoming freshmen that were trying to get their bearings to returning seniors that were establishing their claim as the rulers of the school. You just rolled your eyes at all the showboating that was going on as you made your way to your locker. A hand clutching on your bag as you were jostled for the millionth time by a football player. 

Finally catching sight of your locker was like a breath of fresh air. A small sliver of sanctuary that you needed within the bustling halls. However, as quickly as the happy feeling appeared it vanished without a trace at the sight of the woman leaning against the locker adjacent to yours. 

Harleen Quinzel-- in all her glory. 

Light blonde hair falling loosely past her shoulders. Painted lips pulled into a smirk as she listened to the jock standing before her. Though you could clearly tell she wasn’t actually listening. As her, normally sharp blue eyes were dull at the incessant rambling of the boy. 

Hoping that you could quickly open your locker and deposit everything before she noticed, you slowly made your way towards them. Seeing that she was still distracted by the jock, you felt a small smile tug at your lips. Glad that at least something was going your way today. 

You shouldn’t have celebrated so early. 

The moment you made contact with your lock a perfectly manicured hand appeared on top of yours. Your heart-stopping at the feeling of her smooth skin on yours. Your wide eyes meeting her devious blue as she smirked at you. Numbly you noted that they were once again the sparkling blue that you were so familiar with. Though you couldn’t find it within yourself to celebrate the fact. Not when she was leaning towards you ever-so-slightly. 

“Y/N,” she purrs. “I was wondering when you were going to show up. The school is not the same with my best girl gone.”

For a moment you actually think she cared for your wellbeing, but the glimmer in her eyes made you think otherwise. Your lips thin into a line as your annoyance grows. You didn’t think you had the patience to deal with her today. 

“What do you want, Harleen?” 

A faux look of hurt flashed across her face. “I’m wounded that you think I need something from you, Y/N.” Her other hand rubs your arm-- you try to desperately ignore the goosebumps that appeared because of the action. Though you were certain she was aware of it-- if the look on her face was anything to go by. “I was just wondering if you knew that we were both in the same AP classes?”

Your stomach drops at the news. Her devious smile only causes your nerves to fray even more. “How? I changed my schedule three times.” 

Harleen shrugs. “Looks like it was a match made in heaven.” 

You shake your head with a frown starting to furrow your brow. “No, I know you did something. There’s no way we accidentally ended up in the same classes again.” Your annoyed gaze meets her amused one. “Why? Why do you like doing this to me? Don’t you have better things to do?” 

At your questions, her smile falls from her lips. A sharp look flashing across her face as she leaned closer to you-- almost to the point of her nose brushing against yours. You wanted to take a step back but the hand on your bicep stopped you. You had never seen Harleen look so angry before. Even if she wasn’t completely showing you everything she was feeling. You could tell by the darkening of her eyes-- an almost desperate quality hiding underneath. 

“I think you know exactly why I do what I do,” she hisses. “You just refuse to see what’s standing right in front of you. You choose to be blind to everything.”

Her voice elevates slightly towards the end of her sentence. An almost shrill quality to her tone that you had never heard before. It causes a small wince to flash across your face. Your eyes glancing towards the other occupants of the hallway. You didn’t want anyone to be listening in on this… whatever this was.

Harleen, noticing where your attention had diverted to, seems to pull herself together as she takes a step back from you. Her hand finally releasing your bicep out of the death grip she had imprisoned it in. Though the same darkened expression in her eyes remained even as she smiled at you.

“But that’s no matter,” she continues in a calmer tone. As if her outburst had never happened. “Just know that until you realize what you’ve been blind to I’ll always be here.” Harleen inclines her head ever-so-slightly towards you, her voice dropping into a whisper. “Nothing will ever be better than that.”

Then she was gone. 

Only leaving behind the faint scent of her perfume and the confused feeling in your very soul. 

Even now you still had no idea what she had meant. High school passed you by in the same manner as your other school years. In a standoff with Harleen Quinzel for the top student position, which she won by barely a point. Not that you were too surprised she beat you at that too. No matter how egotistical she may be, you could admit that she was highly intelligent. In another life, you could even see yourself being friends with her. If only life had turned out slightly differently for you both… 

College seemed to be the only reprieve you were ever going to get from her. So you were excited to apply to as many as you could. Wanting to have as many options to choose from as possible. Anything to minimize the chance of Harleen choosing the same one-- even if deep in your heart you wanted nothing more than for her to do just that. 

Learning at graduation that she was going to Metropolis for school had been a shock. As you had been deliberating going there as well. That was before your mother got sick and you decided to stay in Gotham, however. A fact that you didn’t think twice about sharing with Harleen. 

Sometimes you look back at the night and curse yourself for opening your mouth. 

The party was already in full swing as you stepped into the house. Loud music blaring through the speakers. The sound waves caused the very house to shake. It was lucky that the host of the party lived so far away from anyone else. It wouldn’t do to have the party shut down by what was left of Gotham’s police force. Moving deeper into the party, you bypass throngs of people dancing to the beat of the song and random couples that were lost in each other. Your eyes scan the room for a quieter place that you could just rest in until the rest of your friends arrived. 

Thankfully, the search didn’t take that long as you quickly found a relatively abandoned corner. You gratefully lean against a wall once you reach it. Thankful that you had been able to find a spot that you could hide away in. As the party scene had never been a place you thrived in. Rolling your neck, you try to get rid of some of the tension that had settled over your shoulders from the past few days. Things at home were only getting more complicated but you know you made the right decision in deciding to stay. Even if Metropolis would have been a hell of a lot nicer than Gotham. 

Movement from in front of you causes your eyes to widen as a solo cup is thrust into your hands. The flimsy plastic bending in your hands as you stared at the woman who had given it to you. Your mouth pressing into a thin line at the sight of her devious smirk. 

Harleen Quinzel, of course. 

“I’m really not in the mood right now, Harleen,” you sigh. “Why don’t you go hang out with your friends and leave me alone?”

Harleen pouts. “But you’re my best girl, Y/N. Why would I leave you all alone?”

“Because your friends are probably looking for you.” You try to offer in hopes that she would just leave you alone. You didn’t feel like hearing her gloat about getting the valedictorian spot. Her laughter was not the response you were expecting, however. 

“Oh, Y/N/N, what am I going to do with you?” She asks but you’re sure it was rhetorical. Though at your continued silence her eyes flash with annoyance. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

You sigh, Harleen and her mind games were not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to the party. “I don’t know what it is I’m supposed to be getting, Harleen. Maybe if you actually told me then I might.”

She grins at you. “Now where’s the fun in that?” Her head tilts ever-so-slightly as she appraises you. As if she suddenly realized that you were wearing a low-cut dress-- courtesy of your best friend. Her blue eyes shone with varying emotions that you couldn’t even begin to decipher. Though they soon snapped back up to your face as if she suddenly realized something. “But that doesn’t matter really. I’m certain you’ll figure it out when we’re in college.”

Her words make your stomach drop. “What?” 

“When we’re in college, Y/N.” Harleen drawls. “You know the place where we’re going to be going for the next four years?”

“What do you mean we?” 

Her laughter, once again, catches you off guard. “Didn’t you know? We’re going to be going to the same college. I heard through the grapevine that we both got accepted to Metropolis University. Go Sharks.” 

You frown, your next words coming out before you could even think. “But I’m not going to Metropolis University.” 

Harleen completely freezes at that. Her eyes turn razor-sharp as the smile falls from her face. “What?”

You gulp. “I’m not going to Metropolis University, Harleen. I was but then some personal issues came up so I’ve decided to stay in Gotham.” You shrug with a rueful smile pulling at your lips. “I’m going to Gotham University. So it looks like I’m going to be a Nighthawk and you’re going to be a Shark.”

The smile falls from your face, however, at the look, Harleen gives you because of the joke. Her expression darkened even more as each second ticked by. Only the call of her name from her friends pulled her attention from you-- though she seemed more annoyed at the interruption. Thinking about the quickest escape routes you could take, to hell with your friends, you begin to shift away from the wall. Only to have Harleen suddenly grab both of your forearms and yank you towards her. Your face almost smashed against hers as she held you. Her voice coming out in a low whisper.

“We’ll see about that.” 

Before you could react, her lips pressed against yours in a brief kiss before she was gone. 

Only the scent of her perfume and the feel of her on your lips remaining. 

You hadn’t been surprised that come fall she had appeared in your lecture hall. Her ever-present smirk flashing towards you as she took her seat a few rows in front of you. You weren’t even surprised that she had taken the same major as you. After all, you both had always been eerily similar in your interests in that regard. 

Sometimes you wish you had chosen something else. 

Anything else. 

That’s all that could run through your mind as you made your way down darkened halls. Your heels clicking against the floor with a resounding presence that almost made you wince. The faint moans of the criminally insane echo from deeper recesses in the building. You try to not tense at the sounds. Your armed escort led you down various halls and security checkpoints before you finally reached your destination. 

A door, plain as all the others, stood between you and the reason you had returned to Gotham. You didn’t want to, God did you not want to, but getting a call from Mayor Hill had changed things. You had met the man on several occasions and you had never even considered the possibility of him begging anyone. Hearing the desperate plea within his words flashed you back to a time when your mother was still alive. When there wasn’t a giant bat protecting the streets of Gotham. You hadn’t had the heart to decline.

Even if you wish you had now. 

Turning to one of the guards stationed at the door, you nod. Steeling yourself for what you are about to witness. Your back straightened as your hands tightened on the various files you were holding. Your resolve only wavering as you stepped into the room. Your eyes take in the large abundance of space that surrounds the single cage in the direct center of the room. A single figure entwined with silk in the middle of it. 

Moving down the staircase, you try to ignore the way the figure's burning gaze followed you. The intensity behind it is both so familiar and completely foreign. Standing directly before the cage, you finally are close enough to the figure to see the way burning blue eyes took in every small aspect of you. A familiar smirk began to make its way onto her face when she finally met your gaze with hers. 

“There’s my best girl.” A grin takes the place of her smirk. A sight that causes your heart to lurch in your chest. Yet another reminder of why you didn’t want to come back to Gotham. Why you never wanted to return to the place that had taken everything from you. “I was wondering when you were going to visit me.”

“Hello, Harleen.”

#harley quinn x reader #harley x reader #dc imagines #suicide squad imagines #dc #icarus #harleen quinzel imagine #harleen quinzel #harley quinn imagine #reader insert

[hot-wiings]

The One Where [Y/N] [L/N] Gushes Over Her Crush During Sparring Lessons, And Katsuki Bakugo Has Had Enough Of Her Pineful Swooning. 

Requested By: Wattpad User

Edited: 1-8-2020

You stood off to the side of the room with your friends while you watched two of your peers spar together. Shouta was 'randomly' picking two classmates to spar together, and you were all supposed to watch their fights and learn from them while you waited to spar on your own. You were sure Shouta had actually thought about the pairs strategically like when he lied about expelling a student at the beginning of the semester. 

You were supposed to be watching the fight but your eyes had other ideas. They kept wandering off to the other side of the room where Deku sat with his friends. Momo Yaoyorozu, in all her beautiful glory, stood there stretching out her arms. Everything about her was perfect. Her hair was so amazing, it was so shiny and lustrous, and her pretty brown eyes were so incomparable to anything. You weren't sure when you began staring at her, but she hadn't noticed and you made no plans to stop. 

"[Y/N], you've been staring at her for the past five minutes. Aizawa's gonna get mad and pair you up with someone like Todoroki."

Mina nudged your shoulder and a cherry red color spread up from your neck and across your cheeks. Had you really been staring that long? Your crush on Momo was beginning to spin out of control. You wanted her so bad, but you knew she would probably go for someone rich and beautiful like her. Psychologically we seek out people like ourselves. 

"I'd like him to pair us up together, I could finally show Momo how superior I am to him, but I already sparred Sero when you were in the bathroom."

"I'm only gonna tell you this one more time, Momo is not interested in Todoroki, even if she was, he's so... Serious? Oblivious to stuff like that. Picking fights with him is only going to confuse him and hurt you."

You crossed your arms as you looked back over at Momo, your chest bubbled at her but swelled as Todoroki came into view. They were standing so close together. There was no way they weren't together, they always studied together, they went out together, constantly chatting each other down, and Todoroki was a dry conversationalist. Mina bumped you again and you looked back at the fight. 

"Quit staring."

"I can't help it, she's just so hot."

"Then ask her out, like a normal person."

You huffed at Mina's words. There was no way she would want to go out with you. She was simply perfect, rich, beautiful, stunning, and smart. You were poor, dumb, and embarrassing. All you had going for you was your quirk. 

"No! She's too perfect, and she's probably not even into girls. Look at her and Todoroki, they're probably together anyway, I'll just admire her from afar."

"If I hear you gush over ponytail one more fucking time I will blast your ass." 

Your cheeks burned at Katsuki's outburst. He had yelled his words out and you were sure everyone had heard. Multiple students were looking at you. You looked at your feet as you thought out ways to murder Katsuki in his sleep. Ponytail could mean a multiple amount of people, they shouldn't necessarily think of Momo. 

"Bakubro, that's not manly! Outing [Y/N]'s crush on M-"

Mina was quick to hit Eijirou with her elbow who then shut up and looked over at your ever-growing crimson face as he realized his own slip-up.

"Sorry, [Y/N]."

"Maybe she should apologize for being a pussy. Put a pair of balls on and fucking confess."

"Yaoyorozu vs. Bakugo."

Katsuki walked away with a smirk on his face. You hated yourself for riling Katsuki up. He was going to hurt her. He was going to kill her. He was going to absolutely abolish her. It wasn't that you had a lack of faith in Momo, you knew how Katsuki could go so overkill when he was angry. You watched in worry as Katsuki and Momo sparred with their quirks. Blast after blast followed by creation after creation and soon Katsuki had Momo on the ground. Your stomach churned at the sight, but deeper worry flooded you as Katsuki and Momo exchanged words. Momo looked over at you with a bloody face and smiled. 

What did Katsuki say?

"[L/N] can take Yaoyorozu to the infirmary, she already had her spar anyway."

You were going to kill Katsuki.

"Fine. [L/N] take Yaoyorozu to recovery girl. Next time Bakugo, don't go so overkill."   

You were officially going to kill Katsuki.

You walked over to Momo and wiped your hands off on your pants before helping her up off of the ground. You hoped to god that she couldn't sense the nervousness completely secreting from you. You helped Momo walk out of the classroom and down the hall towards Recovery Girl's office when Momo pulled herself away from your grip. She walked with one hand on her arm, she was nervous not hurt but it wasn't obvious to you. In your mind, she was too perfect to be nervous around someone like you. 

"I think I can walk on my own. Bakugo didn't hurt me that much, he mostly just caught me off guard."

"Sorry, of course, you can walk on your own! You're such a great fighter, you're amazing, Katsuki likes to play dirty like that."

"Bakugo told me you thought that."  

You stopped walking for a moment caught off guard as your cheeks started to turn red, a deep blush spreading across your face. 

"He said what?"

"He said you thought I was amazing and pretty, and hot."

"I'm going to kill him. I am going to kill him." 

Momo reached over and slipped her hand into yours lightly. Your thoughts on Katsuki paused momentarily as you looked over at your crush to see her smiling at you. 

"He told me you thought I was dating Shouto. I'm not. I'm not into guys like that."

"Oh, you mean you're more into girls like that?"

"I'm not into girls or boys. I don't really decide if I like someone until I really know them. I like you. All I want is you."

The blush on your cheeks only deepened from a cherry red to a deep scarlet red. Your chest swelled with a feeling, a feeling of nerves, and hopes. Mina was right, you just had to shoot your shot. You needed to shoot your shot. You smiled back at Momo as you let go of her hand. You cupped her cheeks, boy did the skin feel as soft as you had imagined it being.

"Then have me!"

It came out more direct than you had meant to say it, worry and anxiety flooded your chest making you take a deep breath but it was all for naught. Momo cupped your own cheeks and hoped that there were no teachers in the halls. As class 1-A's vice president she had the honor to uphold, but at that moment it didn't matter. As she pressed her lips against yours it didn't matter. as her soft lips touched yours it didn't matter.

You stood on your tiptoes to make it easier on her. Her lips were so soft, they were softer than you ever imagined they would. They tasted better than you imagined they would, like imperial gold tea, but it didn't matter. What you wanted was finally within your grasp, it was here in your hands. 

"Go out with me on Friday."

All you could do was meekly nod your head up and down before you turned your body around to keep walking to Recovery Girl's office, the taste of her lips on yours and your hands intertwined. 

#momo x reader #yaoyorozu x reader #bnha x reader #bnha momo x reader #mha momo x reader #bnha yaoyorozu x reader #mha yaoyorozu x reader #momo yaoyozoru x reader #bnha momo yaoyorozu x reader #mha momo yaoyorozu x reader #yaoyorozu momo x reader #bnha yaoyorozu momo x reader #mha yaoyorozu momo x reader #creati x reader #bnha creati x reader #mha creati x reader #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha x reader #mha #x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #anime x reader #boku no hero #x reader insert #boku no hero x reader #hot-wiings queue #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia #momo yaoyozoru

[i-cant-handle-change]

The tension couldn't get any higher than it was now, Bakugou had been the one to pull the trigger.

He taunted the copycat, with his constant berating of how things should be for the future of humanity. How his temper was no better than his own, how his efforts to get Deku back were hopeless, and how his teachings were getting him nowhere.

It was all hopeless.

Everything was hopeless in this timeline, these events of the past long since gone by the effects of the future no less the future of quirks. All Bakugou wanted to do was go home, he wanted to see the old hag and his father again, not spend another day dealing with copycat and ponytail.

The last thing he needed was to be told off that his quirk didn't defy who he was and that it could lead him to more bad than good. Many others from the group seemed to agree, they grew more fearful over Bakugou’s quirk than of their own. Everyone just watches him and judges how he seemingly makes the happy times turn sour with his attitude.

Honestly, nobody wanted Bakugou to be on their side but they didn't want him to be on the bad side either so they had no choice but to keep him.

But the final straw was set, crumpled, and burnt to a crisp, Bakugou taunted the copycat with his quirk. It was weaker than his, short-lived too, maybe even more pathetic than what copycat claimed Bakugou’s quirk out to be the first time he saw it.

He looked angry, no, he looked furious.

He was at the end of the rope with Bakugou ponytail’s words that would never get to him when he was violently shoved to the side. Everyone had stepped back, watching in fear and amusement as the brunette charged up to the blond. Bakugou made a move to use his quirk on his defense but was immediately blown away by the sudden impact of an explosion.

An explosion that he didn't make but the copycat did.

“You want to know what’s not fair, “copycat called out as Bakugou recovered.

“What’s not fair is that you get everything that you ever wanted without having to face the consequences of your actions!

Actions that you made to entertain yourself by walking all over the weak and helpless while others pride you over your potential.”

He grew close, Bakugou rushing to get up before another explosion was aimed at him, once again, it wasn't his own.

“You have everything that you ever wanted just because you had something that people could just fawn over and forget all the problems you made along the way!

Oh, Katsuki Bakugou can do no wrong, his quirk is flashy and powerful, perfectly made to become a pro-hero in UA!

He can do no wrong, he's the head student who shows off at every lecture because all the other student's quirks are so pathetic that they’re used to push him on for more fame and glory!”

He set off an explosion of his own only to be overcome with an even bigger one, the smell of smoke and caramel covered the air.

“Oh, he can do no wrong when he beats others to a pulp when he pushes a student to the very limit when he makes everyone turn against them because of how weak they are!

That’s okay, they were too weak, too embarrassing, too small to fit into the ideal picture of this pitch-perfect society!

Oh, how wonderful it is to have Katsuki Bakugou to be our main star of the show! Everyone, let's clap along for Bakugou’s outstanding performance of becoming an ideal hero for the people on the top and only on the top!”

He could barely move, his ears were ringing, his body hurt when he even moved his arm, and his vision was getting blurry. But he could feel the harsh thick layer of a leather boot be stomped on his head, a quick turnover made him look at the brunette above him.

There were others above him, their faces were blurry but it was clear they were enjoying this karma being placed onto the privileged brat. At last, he would have to face the reality of the situation, the reality of this world and this world alone.

Copycat’s expression then went dark, from his sides his hands bled from the extent of his quirk usage.

“You’re the only reason why I think I shouldn't change society, because, at the end of it, people will always breed privileged brats like you.”

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boko no hero academia #my hero academy #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #second one for all user #second one for all holder #third one for all user #third one for all holder #bnha au #mha au idea #mha aus #mha au #unexpected au #autober

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 6

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 6: And So It Begins

“I’m back,” MK tiredly said as he dragged his form out of the blazing sun and into the cool restaurant, “orders delivered, traffic long and people angry, but food is delivered.”

“Great, but you still have another delivery,” Pigsy replied as his back was turned.

“Just one,” he grinned, “compared to the other ten this will be a piece-,”

He slammed down 30 orders down in front of him on the already bustling counter.

“Of cake,” he deflated as he saw the monumental amount of food. “What the-Are we feeding an entire town?!”

“Close. Party, though I should have charged their ungrateful asses extra for the rush order,” he growled out, “who gives an hour warning Huh?!”

“Apparently them,” he groaned as he picked up and carried the whole load into the car.

“And when you get back, there are a dozen more orders to take care of,” Pigsy called out.

“Got it bossman,” he yelled out, then he slammed the door closed and he sat up straight with a grin, “alright this won’t be so bad.”

“BEEF? BEEF?!! I WANTED MISO! GET IT RIGHT YOU STUPID DRIVER! The voice yelled out at MK as the two stood at the doorway.

“I’m sorry but-,” he winced as he was cut off by the rude woman screech.

“You better be sorry! I could have your job for this big of a screw up! You are nothing!”

“Technically I just delivered your food,” he whispered to himself.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” He put on his best service smile, “I’m very sorry about this, how about I take your food back so that I can-.”

Splat

MK watched as the woman threw down her food in a fit of rage.

“There’s your damn food, now pick it up and get me a new one,” she spat out.

MK looked down at the pile of food that Pigsy put his sweat and blood into slowly dripping off the stone stairs. He took a deep breath as he put his hand in his pocket to subtly squeeze the stress ball and looked at the woman.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” he deadpans and walks back to the car.

“What?!”

“Also,” he rolled down his window when he got in the car, “if you would like to order for a party, next time call ahead of time.” He then quickly drove off until he could no longer hear the yells of the angry woman.

He rode until he reached the grocery store, parked at the edges of the lot where there were barely any cars, unbuckled his seat belt, and laid his head on top of the wheel.

“I. Hate. People. Sometimes.” He lightly banged his head with each word then he leaned back and took out the ball and squeezed it a few times. “I really do.”

He likes to think of himself as a pretty optimistic person, after having his whole life turned around and learning things can get better, he likes to think that the world can be good. But days like these, people like those, make him really put that side of him to the test and today he very much failed that. He should be glad that he didn’t go off on her, like what Pigsy did when some dude tried to scam him or Mei when she is feeling very competitive over some a-holes, but at the same time that sounds amazing.

He squeezed the ball a little tighter.

“I really want to see Dad right now,” he muttered to himself. It would be so easy, just one yell to him and he would be over in less than a second. “I really want him right now…but I made a promise to myself that I would do this without him.”

So he took a deep breath, lifted his head, put on his music, put away his rainbow stress ball, and slowly began his drive back to Pigsy restaurant.

It was during that drive back that he got a call, “Hello?”

“Hey MK, it’s me,” he stopped as he heard Pigsy's voice, he had a feeling he knows what this is about.

“Heyyy Pigsy, I’m almost at the store,” he tried and failed, to sound casual.

“I just got off a call with a very rude customer who said that you threw down her food when she was being oh so kind,” he bluntly said, “even mentioned about assaulting her.”

“That is so not how any of that went down!” He immediately said, “she yelled at me for saying that I made her food wrong and I told her that it can be redone, but she decided to instead throw down all of that food herself and told me to clean it up! Who does that?! And all of this was after she put her hand all through that food, which is so gross by the way, I mean other people are eating that, cause I know she ain’t-,” he was cut off by Pigsy chuckles.

“You don’t need to explain anything, I know you for far too long to even think that you would put too much salt in someone's food let alone throwing it down on the ground.”

“Oh,” he calmed down as he released the tension from the wheel, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, I told it to her straight just exactly how I felt about her being an utter ass to not only myself but my employees. Let’s just say that she was not happy about that and threaten to sue,” he could almost hear him shrug.

“What no!” He tried to stand up, only to realize he was still in the car and he was still buckled up. “I am so sorry!”

“Don’t be, cause jokes on her the world we live in has become pretty up to date with security and, more importantly, security cameras,” he said with a grin, “I don’t think she’s gonna get a single cent when everything that went down was all on video.”

MK let a smile spread across his face, bless technology and all its glory. “That’s good.”

“It sure is. Do you want to take a breather when you come back? I know that woman was more than a handful that what you're used to,” he asked in concern.

“Nope,” he cheerfully said, “I am A-Ok! Just get those next orders ready for me so I can deliver!”

“Well if you're certain, get your ass back here on the double,” he said, but the teenager could tell it was more playful, “we got orders waiting to be delivered.”

“On my way!” He saluted to no one and hung up. “Alright! Let’s get a move on!”

‘Make sure to add the cohesive before the mixing,’ the voice silently thought to himself.

“It would be so easy just to make that jump, hell my youngest kit sister can make that and she’s not even a month old,” a voice bragged.

‘Combine the Feins roots with the Elia petals first to dilute the solution.’

“All I’m saying is that if you try to jump off the cliff of perils then I sure as hell am not catching you,” another voice deadpanned.

“Nahhh I would be fine.”

‘…dice the Oran berries and Pecha then add when the next stage is ready.’

“If you count being splattered into tiny little pieces fine, then, by all means, go ahead,” another voice sighed.

‘Make sure that the color is a deep orange hue and not dark yellow, that can-,’

“Ye o little faith.”

“No, you are of little sanity. Even my younger gremlins know better,” she shot back.

‘That can easily violate the substance,’

“But they don’t have the certain skills like I do,” they bragged.

‘…leading to a-,’

“It still wouldn’t be a wise thing to do,” a deep voice pointed out.

‘Leads to a-,’ his vial cracked in his hands as he was once again interrupted.

“No, but it would be fun-.”

“I swear,” everyone turned to face the irritated monkey, “to all things good in this world and the next, if you dumbasses don’t shut the fuck up in the next five seconds I will make the Piñata fiasco at the Boiling Isles look like a god damn nap compared to what I’m gonna do to you.”

“Sorry, were we disturbing you,” Yanyu cheekily said.

“You little-”

“Awwww I’m soo sorry,” Daiyu mocked.

“I swear-”

“We didn’t mean to interrupt your monologue,” Minsheng smirked, “you know it kinda reminds me of Flicker when you do that.”

“That’s it!” He slammed down his ingredients, opened his drawers, and took out a roll of duct tape, “come here you little bastards!” He yelled out as he began to chase down the three annoyances.

“Same as usual,” Bohai sighed as he drank his tea.

“One would think not to mess with Mac when he’s like this,” Ahmed commented.

“Especially when he’s in his mood.”

“Especially that.”

“Now shut it,” he proudly said as he sat on top of his third victim.

“Hey hey!” Daiyu struggled to break free, “we were trying to lighten your mood fuzzball.”

“By annoying the shit out of me,” he growled as he taped her beak shut. “Fat chance, anyone else,” he looks over to his other two remaking friends.

“I say nothing,” the jellyfish put his tentacles up in surrender.

“While they may have been a bit well-,”

“Fucking annoying,” the monkey bluntly said.

“Yes that, they did have a purpose to their madness,” the lion pointed out.

“What? What could they possibly want badly enough to annoy the absolute fuck out of me?!”

“You have empty bird nest syndrome.”

“…what?”

“I said-”

“I heard you the first time!” Macaque interrupted, “I do not have that! I am use to MK not being home day to day, so why the hell would you thi-,”

“For days,” Yanyu said once she ripped the tape off her mouth, “but not for longer than a week.”

“Same difference!”

“Nah pal it ain’t,” the bunny demon said as they chewed on their own tape, “I can see it as bright as day, you have been extra moody and hella sad these past couple of days. It’s just like mum, whenever one decides to leave the warren, she gets all glum and broody for days.”

“I am not broody!” His tail swished violently.

“But you do miss him,” Ahmed stated.

“I don’t-”

“And it’s okay if you do.”

“I don’t miss him, I can visit anytime,” he stated.

“You still miss him being there, being next to you,” the lone human gave his ponytail a playful tug and sat next to Mac, who was still sitting on top of the tied-up vulture. “Take it from a big sister, when Shu moved out to live in the dorms I was so happy for him, but as time went on I noticed that I didn’t hear his off pitch singing in the afternoon nor did I hear his voice amongst my gremlins over who gets the last brownie. I didn’t miss him, hell I could video chat with him anytime, but I missed his presence, you know.”

Macaque just gave her a hard look before sighing, “He used to hum to himself whenever he was bored,” he admitted as he got off his friend and slumped down next to her.

Yanyu just patted his shoulder as he continued.

“I know I can just visit him, but my kid is growing up, he’s learning to stand on his own and he should have his own life separate from me.”

“Yeah imma stop you there,” Sheng rolled his eyes, “you are being one over dramatic monkey right now if you think that just because he’s doing his own thing, doesn’t mean that he doesn't have time for you. Hell, you are the one demon he will always have time for no matter what.”

“But-”

“Ain’t no buts about it fuzzbrain,” Daiyu squawked out once she feared the tape off, “your hatching adores the shit out of you and if you don’t think he won’t spend time with you then you are dead wrong.”

“He should have that time to himself, he is just starting out all on his own…without me…,” he slumped in depression, but quickly shot up due to a shocking touch, “OW! FUCKING WHY BOHAI!”

“You're being an idiot,” he smugly said as he lowered his tendril.

“Thanks,” Yanyu nodded to him, “and he’s right. I know that this whole thing won’t end with this so here’s what we’re gonna do. The six of us are going to go to Qián city.”

“…why the fuck are we going to the underwater city of Shanghai?” He incredulously looked at her.

“Cause you seriously need to relax.”

“I don’t-”

“You spent most of your time in the garden or prepping medicine that you don’t need,” Ahmed calmly said as he cleaned up the mess that Mac made.

“…you may have a point, but I don’t really feel like I should leave, what if MK or Mei happens to call?” He said.

“Well one, I know damn well that your hearing exceeds that city's borders,” Sheng points out.

“Okay true.”

“And second, we have the beauty of phones, which allows people to fall from far away,” Yanyu slowly told him as if he was a child, “I taught you this in one of our first lessons.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he muttered, “but I don’t-”

“You either go willingly or Kit Kat over here is going to drag you,” she pointed to Ahmed.

“He wouldn’t-”

“I really would,” he had to stop a smile at the utter betrayal in the monkey's face.

“I could beat your ass again,” he grumbled.

“You very well could,” he agreed, “but then you would also have to go against everyone else and they will happily drag both you and me off.”

“Fine!” He throws his hand in the air.

“Got ‘em!” Sheng high-fived Yanyu.

“Told you he would cave in eventually,” the vulture grinned.

“But we are going there to strictly relax, that means no explosions, arsons, paralyzing, hacking, or prison riots.”

“What about stealing and graffitiing,” the bluenette raised her hand.

“If there assholes, be my fucking guest, but your ass better not get caught.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be more stealthy than sneaking into the police hub to get rid of the evidence,” she cockily stated.

“What?”

“What.”

“…you know what the less I know the better.”

“Good choice, so let’s get packing!” She excitedly said as she, Daiyu, Minsheng, and Bohai exited the infirmary.

“So are you gonna tell them that the game dealers there are more than likely to scam them before or after they get robbed?” Ahmed curiously asked.

“After, they need a lesson on not annoying the fuck out of me when I’m working,” he gave a mischievous grin.

“Quite rude of you,” he grinned.

“But you're smiling too.”

Ahmed chuckled lightly as the two left the infirmary.

It was a quiet day at the restaurant, the dinner rush had just ended and all that was really left to do was wait for the store to close and clean up what’s left. The only customers inside were Mei and Tang, both of whom have long since finished eating and are currently just chatting, or laying down, with MK over the counter.

“So how’re your online classes treating you?” Mei asked.

“Great!” He perked up as he took his eyes off the creepy butterfly in the corner of the restaurant, “I’m just about finished with my general study.”

“Ooo, does that mean you finally have a major in mind,” Mei leaned in.

“No I do not.” He cheerfully stated.

All of them, including Pigsy who was listening in, facepalmed.

“Mkkk,” the nineteen year old groaned.

“I knowww,” he slumped down, “but it’s hard deciding what to do for the rest of your life.”

“Well that is okay,” the historian softly said, “you're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Besides, college is not for everyone.”

“Yeahhh, so how’re your classes going Mei Mei?” MK turned to his friend, “I know you been taking some of the engineering courses.”

“Ugghhh, don’t get me started,” she slumped down in her seat, “I love it, but that is seriously kicking my ass right now. If I didn’t like to make sweet ass rides then I would have totally just dropped it.”

“Let me guess, for racing,” MK said as he sprayed down the counter.

“Duh, I’m gonna be so fast that when they're only halfway, I've already passed that finish line baby!” Mei screamed.

“Shhhhh,” Tang hushed as he held his head against the cool counter, “not so loud please.”

“You okay there Tang?” Pigsy asked as he moved closer to his friend, “you’ve been like that ever since you got in.”

“Yeah, it’s just this headache has been killing me and my usual medicine isn’t doing a thing,” sighed as he leaned into the warm hand touching his head.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a fever at least,” the pig mutters.

“Do you have any coughing, sneezing, nausea, or any other symptoms?” MK curiously asked as he sat up.

“I have been feeling a bit nauseous,” he murmured.

“Sharp ringing in your ears on and off?”

“Yesss,” he groaned out.

“Hmm hold on,” MK quickly went upstairs, everyone heard faint shuffling noises before he came back down as fast as he was carrying a small baggie, “Can I use your stove and teapot?”

“Go right ahead,” Pigsy agreed.

MK gave a quick smile and they all watched him make a pot of tea, but instead of teabags, he added some of the plants that were inside the bag.

“Here you go,” MK presented the tea to the historian once it was done.

Tang hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup, “…what is it?”

“Medicine. Drink,” he gave him a wide-eyed look.

“...alright,” he shrugged his shoulders and joked, “if this kills me, just burn my corpse.”

“Drink,” MK commanded once more.

Tang drank his tea instead of retorting back and his eyes widen at the taste of it.

“Are ya dead?” Mei asked.

“Feel the poison seeping in,” the pig demon joked.

“This is really good,” he complimented MK and he began to drink more.

“Thanks, it’s Dad’s special recipe diluted when it comes to dealing with migraines,” he happily announced.

“Diluted? I can already feel my migraine already going away, how bad is his if this is diluted?” Tang asked with much concern.

MK grimace as he shared a look with Mei. He can’t help the memories all filtering in of his father lying in bed clutching onto the headphones as it tightly covered all six of his ears. There is never a pattern to when this happens, but he knew to keep a pot of tea hot and a bowl of mango or other non-citrusy fruit available on those days.

“It’s pretty bad,” was all he said.

“Oh,” both adults shared a look before Tang put on a grin as he slurped down his tea, “well this really works, what in it?”

“It’s Feverfew Tea with some Pika berries,” said MK.

“I’ve heard of Feverfew, but I don’t think Pika rings a bell,” Pigsy hummed totally missing Mei’s shocked face.

“Why I never-,”

“No, it’s not pokemon,” MK quickly shut that down before she got to her rant.

‘’Awww,” she deflated.

“It’s from Kunlun peak.”

Tang immediately choked on his tea, “AK! Did you just say Kunlun peak!”

“Yep!”

“What’s so special about that,” she glumly asks.

“Mount Kunlun is known to be a mythical mountain that hikers and historians have been searching for centuries,” Tang began, “It’s said to hold both mythical animals and plants, each having extraordinary potential within them as even the Gods from above go down there for certain herbs and items needed for their potions. It just lays there on top of the highest peak, but no person nor demon has ever had a straight map leading there and you’re telling me your Dad, Macaque, went there?!”

“He goes there a few times a year,” the teenager proudly says.

He looks down at his tea with sparkles in his eyes, “I’m drinking magic tea made from the legendary mountain,” he gave a big slurp as he inhaled it and stood up.

Pigsy eyed the drink, neither teenager knew if it was in envy or jealousy.

“But I’m impressed MK,” Mei playfully punched his shoulder, “look at you being all smart about medicine.”

“Well I hear Dad mutter on and on about different types of herbs and their properties on a day to day basis, that it eventually gets stuck in my head you know,” he joked then he paused as an interesting thought occurred to him, “wait a moment.”

They all watch MK have a silent conversation to himself, complete with waving hands, multiple facial expressions, draw a few sketches on his notepad, and finish with a final glow of his eyes as he leaped up in the air.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?” The owner said.

“Why didn’t I think of this before!”

“Think of what before?” The historian asked.

“It was seriously in front of me this entire time!”

“MK, I swear if you don’t tell us what’s up right now I am not liable to my next actions,” Mei threatened.

“I can be a Doctor!” He leaned forward in excitement, “or at least something along those lines!”

“You can be pop’s assistant!” Mei started to get excited alongside him, “how the hell did I not think of it either?!”

“I don’t know!”

“It does suit you,” the demon agreed. He knows the kid is smart, he has seen his grades, so it’s not far fetched to assume that he can do this rigorous task. “Hope you have good study habits, I know mines was absolute garbage back in school.”

“With notecards and all,” MK hates studying, his brain goes brrr during those times, but he can’t thank Yanyu and Bohai enough for teaching him different tricks to help keep focus. “Now I’m thinking maybe of being a pharmacist, cause I don’t think I do well with surgery.”

“There are also the ones who diagnose the disease using the X-ray thingie,” she snapped her finger as she tried to remember.

“Radiologist,” Tang called out.

“Yeah that!” She pointed to him.

“Ooo that also sounds interesting,” MK and Mei continued their animated talk as both adults watched.

“It’s nice to see them so happy,” the noodle lover let out a content smile as he drank some more of his tea.

“I hear that,” Pigsy then looked at the man cup in confusion, “by the way you’ve been drinking, I thought you would have already been finished by now.”

“With my first cup yes, I’m on my third one now.”

“How in the-I didn’t even see you leave this area!”

“Magic tea is magic,” was all Tang said.

Pigsy exploded, “That doesn’t explain shit!”

“Well too bad,” he gave a loud slurp once more.

SLURPPP

“You know what, two can play that game,” the human was confused when the pig demon got up and left the room. He was no longer confused as he came back with a cup of tea in hand.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tang threatened the pig.

The pig looked him straight in the eye and, with a sly smirk, drank down the tea.

SLURRPP

“You heathen!” He shrieked as he banged his hands on the counter and stood up, “how dare you drink my magic tea!”

“Well next time don’t be rude as fuck!” He shot back and got in his face as well.

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Says the freeloader!”

“Oh here we go again! You know, if you wanted some tea you could have asked!”

“My stove, my cups, my pot, mine.”

“But it was made for me!”

“Yeah well-wait hold up, you feel better right,” Pigsy dropped his screaming as he softly asked his friend, “no drill pounding in your head?”

“Yeah I’m fine now, it really does work miracles,” Tang also lowered his voice.

“That’s good.”

“…they really do act like an old married couple,” Mei announces, MK facepalmed as both adults separated from each other and yelled.

“WE ARE NOT!”

“I’m really sorry about such short notice,” the panda bear demon on call apologized once more to Macaque as he was quickly gathering his ingredients.

“Don’t apologize, shit like this happens,” he waved him off, “I’ll take me a couple of days, a week at max, but I’ll be there before the poison reaches its peak.”

“Thank you,” the panda bowed to him.

“Make sure to store away any semblance of caffeine, alcohol, or anything high in potassium, those are the fastest ways to speed up the process,” he instructed him.

“I’ve been meaning to take away Mink coffee stash, now I have a reason,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Will do bossman,” he hung up the call and called another number as he continued to pack. Once it picked up he put a smile on his face, “Hey Comet, how’s it going?”

“Good!” The twenty year old happily responded. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the classes are actually kinda easy to understand. They’re still tricky, especially the tests, but Yanyu was right about you teaching this. It made almost all my classes so much easier thanks to you.”

“Aww, that’s another one for my ego,” he joked then he put on a more serious tone, “but I didn’t just call you here for a chat kiddo.”

“Why what’s up? Is there something wrong?” MK suddenly asked as he leaned in, “Do I have to get Mei here and help kick some asses?!”

“Snrk, no nothing like that,” he let out a snort, “you know Po right?”

“Yeah, he’s the panda demon who comes in to get pain relief, muscle relaxants, and other types of medicine for his students? Does this have something to do with him?”

“Close, his disciples messed up big time and accidentally inhaled a bunch of toxic fog when they faced off against an elephant demon.”

“How can an elephant make poison?” MK questioned.

“Magic can do the weirdest of things, I mean I’m a monkey that can do shadow magic,” he pointed out.

“True, okay so he’s gonna come over to pick up the antidote? I don’t see what’s the big problem?”

“Here’s the bad part, Po can’t make a round trip, cause the time he gets back, all of his students…might not be alive,” he gently told him.

“…oh, so what’s gonna happen?”

“Well, I’m going to have to make a house call, which means I'm gonna have to go away for a bit and it’s pretty far, so I won’t be able to hear you.”

“…okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!” MK gave a big grin to him, “Don’t you worry bout a thing! I’m an adult now Dad, I will be just fine!”

“You have grown up,” he gave a gentle smile, “I’m glad to hear that, but remember to call if there’s any trouble. I may be far, but I will come running if you need it.”

“I will! Now finish packing and save some lives!”

“I will, I’ll see you in two weeks shooting star.”

“See ya later old man!”

Macaque hung up the call with a smile as he resumed his packing. He wished he could have hugged his kid goodbye, but he was in a time crunch as he zipped everything up and quickly jumped out of the treehouse and began to move within the shadows of the trees.

He really does love his shadow powers during these times.

“Duh du Duh,” MK hummed out as he danced his way over to the food delivery destination with the headphones blaring in his ears. He then lifted it to call out the order name when he heard a silky voice interrupt.

“It feels like I waited for an eternity for this moment, is everything in order?”

“Just making the final adjustment mother,” another voice replied and this is when he opened his eyes to see that this was no ordinary food order as an ominous group stood before him.

“Nope,” he immediately whispered as he silently jetted off to hide behind a pile of rocks, but he peaked his head carefully out to see and his eyes widened.

“Finally after all this time,” the woman continued.

‘No way.’

“We have the means to lift Monkey King staff.”

‘It is!’

Standing before them all, wrapped in vibrant viridian vines and burrowed underneath a garden left untouched by the destruction laid around it, was the legendary Monkey King staff.

Things were about to get interesting.

No joke, the delivery scene with the lady is something I had to experience before. There are people who truly treat food workers lower than dirt, which is stupid to me cause why would you disrespect the people making your food? It’s like insulting the people who manage your money.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #mk #six eared macaque #macaque #PlumTeaAU

[pepperdee]

TCoH Draft 3: Harmrick Meet-Cute

@sleepy-night-child asked me what scene I was most excited about, and it was....very long. so. It gets its own post!

also if anyone has a better ship name please let me know

Nerift is very angry at Ashons for making them live in fear for 200 years, and they take it out on Ashons. Unfortunately, Dedrick is Ashon. When a drunk provokes him, Dedrick quickly becomes outnumbered. Until...

~~~~~

Dedrick’s knee went to the Blaze’s crotch, and the man released him, groaning. Dedrick fled towards the stairs, but two well-to-do citizens grabbed him and threw him to the floor.

They shoved his sighted eye against the concrete, wrenching his arms behind his back while two others grabbed his kicking legs. One of them sat on his head as another yelled for the Enfos. “I got him, I got him!” one or more of them may have shouted.

Don’t spark, don’t spark, don’t spark—

“Let him go!”

Dedrick felt the hold on his ankles falter. Dedrick’s heel hit an eye socket, but the other picked up the slack. Dedrick wanted to see the girl who was defending him, but the ass on his head wouldn’t let him.

“He attacked me!” wheezed the Blaze, still holding his family jewels.

Heavy boots pounded toward Dedrick. The man on his head tumbled off of him with an “Uhf!” One released his legs, sprinting away. Dedrick leveraged his knees to flip himself through the last one’s grip, coming face-to-face with a boy that must’ve been his age.

“Get outta here, Mikey-P!” shouted the girl with the boots. The boy frowned, standing. She waved her hands, as if shooing him away.

Dedrick’s ears roared because Holy Deities she’s pretty, holy shit, I look so pathetic right now, her favorite color must be red, which is my hair color, so she might like me?

His savior stood above him, glaring down Mikey-P with golden eyes as he finally hopped up the stairs. Her tan Neri skin seemed flawless from the floor, her straight black hair pinned back in a neat ponytail. Her fists curled, smoke trailing from them.

Blazes were his weakness, after all.

“What the hell, kid?” the drunk Blaze snarled. His affliction eased as he now grabbed the shoulder of her red leather jacket.

The girl’s arm flew up in a blocking motion, knocking his hand off. With the authority of all Kezan Majesties, she said, “My name is Harmony Kraft, daughter of Agent Rosario Kraft of the Tri-River Investigative Enforcement Unit. You will not touch me, you will leave this boy alone, or we’ll have a chat, Mr. Peterson.”

The Blaze’s eyes bulged. He stumbled away, grumbling about Ashies and Curses and his bitch of an ex-wife.

Harmony now turned her attention to Dedrick, still on the floor, possibly drooling, definitely turned on. She offered his hand. “You’re not hurt too bad, are you?” she asked, and she genuinely seemed concerned. A totally nice, badass, hot stranger.

Her hand was strong, warm, and he felt it long after he was standing. Dedrick shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Worse has found me,” he said, which was true. If he didn’t have to hide his power, he wouldn’t have needed her help. He may have requested it, though. Let her take all the glory, make her feel powerful—please shut up, brain.

#pepper writes #tcoh draft 3 #tcoh #tcoh excerpt #dedrick warflash #harmony kraft #harmrick

[toomanyfandoms02]

Big Fan // Oliver Wood x Reader

Hey! My first Harry Potter imagine on here, pretty excited!! Request some HP characters for my recent HP kick ;)

Summary - Reader transfers from Ilvermorny to Hogwarts and is excited to see her favorite quidditch player.

Word Count - 1.1k

Things like this weren't usually allowed, or frowned upon at the very least. But I was NOT about to apparate all the way across the world every morning to get to Ilvermorny.

So I transferred to Hogwarts.

Which was probably the most anxiety inducing thing possible, especially starting as a 6th year. But it was for the best.

So here I was, sitting in my new headmasters, Albus Dumblores, office being sorted privately. He set the ancient brown hat upon my head, I felt it immediately move.

"You have very strong signs of leadership!" It shouted, startling who I now knew as Professor McGonagall, who drew her books closer to her chest.

"Thank you?" I replied back quietly.

"But I don't think you belong there... But above leadership you have courage, chivalry, and nerve. I believe you belong to, Gryffindor!" Another shout bellowed from, well, wherever this hats lungs were.

It was weird being sorted like this. It was weird and much simpler than how we did it in America. I remember the anxiety I had being brought into the sorting room.

*"Y/n Y/l/n, it's your turn!" I heard our headmaster, Agilbert Fontaine, shout as he peered over a piece of paper. My hands pulled at the ponytail that sat at the back of my head. A blue and maroon tie hung around my neck and a navy skirt swishes by my knees.*

*The room was dimly lit, 4 carvings stood in front of me. I knew them as the Thunderbird, Wampus, Horned Serpent and Pukwudgie. I hadn't been hoping for any certain house, but I certainly would like to be placed in the same my parents had been in.*

*Thunderbird.*

*But as I stood, thumbs twiddling and feet scuffing the floor, one reacted to me quite obviously.*

*"Wampus it is!" Mr. Fontaine announced with glory, leading me out of the room to bring in the next.*

My family had always called me the prettiest black sheep of the family, the only one sorted outside of Thunderbird. Yet they were still so proud of me. But now I was a Gryffindor, brave and proud.

"I will gather a uniform for you and set it in your dormitory. Percy Weasley, one of the Gryffindor prefects, will take you to your common room." Just as she said so, th boy I assumed was Percy waltzed into the room. He had a large round nose and true red hair.

"Hello Miss y/l/n, right this way." He lead me through the spacious halls to my new common room, it was covered by a portrait he called 'The Fat Lady.'

"You have to give her a password in order to get in, this year its 'wattlebird.'" The Lady nodded her head at Percy and opened the canvas to reveal a red themed room.

The air was warm and welcoming, and I felt a feeling of calm wash over me. I haven't felt like this for a while, so maybe this really *was* the right place for me. Across the room a boy with black hair sat, round glasses laid upon his nose. He wore a black robe with red insides.

"That's Harry Potter, second year. He's kind of famous around here." Percy pointed to the boy who gave a small wave and turned back to his book with a red face. I had read about Harry, he was quite the hero, even for a baby.

"Girls dormitories are up those stairs, your uniform should already be up there. But I wouldn't bother changing into it considering how late it is. Curfew is 10 pm." And with that, he was off. I hopped up the stairs, finding my room and locating my freshly ironed robe. Deciding to listen to Percy, I changed into sweatpants and a tshirt, heading down the the common room to sit in front of the fire. And I was prepared to do just that, sit quietly by the fire with a quidditch book grasped in my hand. But instead, before my feet could hit the last step, I heard a voice.

"Interested in quidditch eh?" My head was brought up to see short brown hair, brown eyes and a cute button nose.

I know that face.

"Are you Oliver Wood?!" I could barely contain myself, shamelessly. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Yes?" I hadn't expected him to be scottish, I loved the accent. But to be fair, any accent amazed me being American.

"I'm a big fan!" It was probably a foreign thing to him, I'm sure he didn't get it a lot. Probably even *weirder* coming from an American, considering we don't even have Quidditch at Ilvermorny. We have Quodpot. But I had come to Scottland a few years back to see a quidditch game, my dad had insisted on it. And it happened to be Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. I was mesmerized by how well Oliver played and hoped to meet him one day.

And here he was.

Staring at me.

Because I was frozen in thought.

I slowly brought my hand out for a handshake, and he took it with a firm grip.

"Would you mind if I asked how you know me?" A hint of suspicion behind his voice.

"Oh! I came here my third year because my dad loves Quidditch, but I couldn't see it in America. So we came here. And I loved to see how effortlessly you played, you're amazing!" I was turning into a whole fangirl, and I could my face turning more red with each word. I tried to hide it by swishing my hair further into my face.

"Really? I don't think I was even very good my third year." His head was now leaning on the doorframe next to us. He was a lot easier to talk to than I thought.

"I beg to differ." I laughed hugging my book to my chest. "Tryouts are soon right? I better get to practicing." His arm was brought around his neck, ears reddening just to the point where I could tell.

"Maybe I could help you out, teach you a few things?" I couldn't think of a better day.

"Hey Wood! Already flirting with the new girl?" I heard a teasing voice come from across the room. Oliver's face reddened greatly, his face contorting into an angry expression.

"Shut up Fred!" His teeth were grit at the seemingly younger red haired boy. His hands shot up in defense and went back to whatever he was doing.

"I would love some help." I assured him, my hand touching his shoulder. "Thank you." And with that I was off to my own corner of my room.

*Maybe moving schools was a great idea.*

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

Hey anyone reading this! If you like my writing I JUST started writing for HP again so request! I'm part of many fandoms!

#harry potter #oliver wood #fred weasley #george weasley #weasley twins #quidditch #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood fic

[searchingwardrobes]

Valentine Throwbacks: Day 2

This was written a few years ago for the 14 Days of Valentine’s Prompts on tumblr. This was for day three: the meet-cute.

Summary: Emma Swan doesn’t do “cute.” So when she meets Killian Jones for the first time, well, she meets ALL of him. Or what happens when gym employee Emma walks in on Killian in the tanning bed.

Making a picset for this fic was simultaneously fun and frustrating. Colin’s chest hair is one of a kind, isn’t it? ;) I also didn’t want this to be NSFW, so the tanning bed pic isn’t exactly as described in the story, lol.

Words: almost 3k

Rated: High T ? I mean, Emma accidentally sees him nude, but that’s about it. I just can’t bring myself to rate this an M because it’s overall just funny and cute.

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @let-it-raines @teamhook @bethacaciakay @xhookswenchx @tiganasummertree @shireness-says @stahlop @scientificapricot @welllpthisishappening @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @ilovemesomekillianjones @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @lfh1226-linda @ultraluckycatnd @nikkiemms @optomisticgirl @profdanglaisstuff @carpedzem @ohmakemeahercules @branlovestowrite @superchocovian @sherlockwhovian @vvbooklady1256 @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @delirious-latenight-laughs @jennjenn615 @snidgetsafan @xsajx​ @itsfabianadocarmo @spartanguard @hookedonapirate​

Emma Swan did not work her butt off just to wipe things. She practically crawled and scraped her way into a meaningful life after getting out of prison. She worked multiple jobs, lived in her car, ate nothing but beans straight from the can, and when the misery was all said and done, she had a college degree in exercise science. But like any field these days everyone wanted experience, so until she somehow got some, she was relegated to wiping things. Wiping down the equipment, wiping down mats, wiping, wiping, and more wiping. And she only made slightly more than the teenagers at the reception desk and the college guy who made the smoothies.

Emma sighed as she grabbed yet another fresh rag after her boss told her the tanning machines needed . . . you guessed it, wiping. She was paying more attention to her internal raging about how much her life sucked than she was to her superior telling her which beds were occupied. She was pretty sure she said they were all being used except for bed three, so Emma went all the way to the end of the narrow hallway that housed the tanning beds and stopped at the last door. If she hadn’t been distracted and moody, she might have thought to knock. Maybe. Then again, most people locked the damn door.

Well, not this guy. He also didn't wear underwear to tan like most people. Nope, he was completely nude. He lay there, in all his glory, shimmering under the UV bulbs like the god Apollo or something. And the Greek god comparison wasn’t an exaggeration between the light shining on him, and the chiseled muscles, and the perfect . . . He was sort of like a living version of the statue of the David, but tanned and with lots of chest hair.

“Who’s there!” he called out.

Emma gasped, then cursed under her breath as she turned and left, slamming the door behind her. She sagged against the heavy oak door, her heart racing. She groaned and covered her face with the hand that wasn’t still clutching the bottle of cleanser and rag. Had she just stood there and stared at the guy? Oh god, she had.

Suddenly, the door behind her gave way and Emma fell backwards with a yelp. From her place on the floor, she looked up to see Apollo himself standing above her, smirking, wearing nothing but a pair of tight, white briefs. Did he look . . . pleased with himself? She suddenly realized she was clutching the bottle of cleanser to her chest.

“Like what you saw, darling?” he asked with an arched brow. He had a British accent. Of course.

Emma rolled her eyes at him as she struggled to her feet, irritatingly brushing off his attempts to assist her. “Please, I didn’t even look. Do you think I want to burn my retinas?”

His eyes, which were an amazing shade of blue, seemed alight with mirth as he regarded her. “Then why the blush?” He leaned towards her slightly, his encroachment upon her personal space made all the more infuriating by his lack of clothing. She took a step back towards the doorway.

“Oh great,” she snapped, “you’re that type.”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment he actually looked slightly hurt. “What type?”

Emma crossed her arms across her chest, despite the awkwardness of the cleaning supplies clutched in her hand. “Isn’t it obvious? I mean, seriously, who uses a tanning bed in the middle of the winter? Except for –“ she vaguely gestured up and down his person, “wanna-be Calvin Klein underwear models.”

It was his turn to scowl and cross his arms over his chest. His very appealing chest that Emma was trying really hard not to stare at.

“Or maybe some people do it for their health. You ever think of that?”

“Yeah right,” Emma bit out, “health of what? Your sex life, playboy?”

His blue eyes sparked with indignation. “Oh, you get an eye-full and you suddenly know me?”

Guilt pricked at her for a moment. She was in the wrong here for barging in without knocking. But his smirking and innuendos had her defenses up. “I know your type,” she told him smugly with a tilt of her chin.

“You walk in on me, and I’m the bad guy?”

He had a point, and she knew it. She took several more steps backwards into the hallway and turned on her heel, her ponytail swinging with irritation all its own. “Ugh, I’ve got work to do. Wipe the bed down, I get tired of cleaning up other people’s sweat all day.”

Emma half expected him to get in one last word, but as she marched away, all she heard was the slamming of the door to tanning room three.

***********************************************************

The week of her little embarrassing tanning bed episode, there had been a slight lull at the gym. It had been the last week of January, when New Year’s resolutions were waning and the cold weather dampened people’s motivation. But now people seemed to suddenly realize that Valentine’s Day was only two weeks away, and the gym was once again packed. Even the indoor pool had been in more frequent usage, so Emma’s boss sent her to check the chlorine levels. With the flu epidemic, they couldn’t afford to let germs spread in the warm water.

It had also been a week since Emma had seen “Apollo the sun god,” much to her relief. But when she exited the women’s locker room, into the pool area, there he was: his muscular back an appealing sight as his arms cut through the water. He was evidently an experienced swimmer as he turned off the wall expertly and did a strong backstroke across the length of the pool. Emma shook her head and cursed herself. Damn it, she was staring again!

Emma was leaning over the edge, a nice distance away from the tanning god, getting samples of the water in little test tubes. She was shaking the first one to get a result when she was sprayed with little droplets of water. She looked up, her eyes angry, narrow slits, to see him, treading water easily with a maddening grin on his face. The pool water made his blue eyes almost glitter like sapphires, and he looked unfairly sexy wet.

“I’ve been hoping to see you again,” he told her. “We didn’t exactly get off on the right foot. I’m sorry I teased you, I was just trying to help you see the humor in the situation. It came off wrong, obviously.”

Emma purposely ignored him, staring at the little tube in her hand and trying to remember what the hell she was looking at. He cut through the water towards her, and rested his arm on the edge of the pool inches away from where she crouched.

“I’m Killian Jones by the way,” he said. Emma pressed her lips together in frustration as she blushed for absolutely no reason. She still refused to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him cock his head. “And this is the part where you say, hello, I’m Emma Swan.”

She jerked her head so fast, she almost dropped the test tube. “How did you –“

“I can read, love,” he laughed, gesturing towards her right shoulder.

Emma groaned as she glanced down at her employee name tag. She got hit on all the time at the gym, and had heard a million different pick-up lines involving her last name. But she had sworn off men since Neal, except for an occasional one night stand. But those were never men from work; too much familiarity.

“Some men would take your silence as off-putting,” Killian told her then with a smirk, “but I love a challenge.” Then he had the audacity to wink before diving back under the water.

Emma rubbed her forehead wearily as she stood. The water was low on chemicals, so she pushed the handsome swimmer/sun bather from her mind as she collected what she needed from the supply closet. She measured the chlorine as well as a small dose of shock and added it to the filtration system, then she headed back for the locker room.

Emma wasn’t sure exactly what happened next. There was a puddle of water on the tile floor deep enough to send her sensible sneakers sliding out from under her. Then her arms were wind-milling in empty air, and the pool water seemed to be rushing up to meet her. But before she could hit the water, a hand shot out and grasped her by the elbow. She was hauled from the pool edge, colliding with a warm, wet, very masculine chest.

Killian Jones chuckled as his other arm came around her. “Next time, don’t stand on ceremony.”

Emma blamed her shocked surprise for her delayed reaction in pulling away from him. “Please, Jones, don’t flatter yourself.”

He tucked his tongue into his cheek and waggled his eyebrows, “Remembering yesterday?”

Emma fumed as she gave him a disdainful once-over. “I’m just shocked you’re not in a speedo, mister tighty-whitey.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his gaze went from playful to irritated. “You wouldn’t even know I wore tighty-whities if you hadn’t walked in on me!”

Emma threw up her hands in frustration, resisting the urge to shove him. “It was an accident!”

He arched one brow. “Like you almost falling in the pool?”

Emma scoffed as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Who said I was falling?”

“Fine,” he spat out, “next time, I’ll just let you fall.”

He brushed past her then, grabbing his towel angrily as he marched towards the men’s locker room. Emma started to stomp her way in the opposite direction, but then decided she better tread more carefully on the wet floor.

Not that she had needed Killian Jones to catch her. She was just fine on her own.

********************************************************

Several hours later, Emma walked into her apartment and kicked her gym shoes off by the door. Her feet ached as she dragged herself over to the couch and plopped down next to her roommate. She groaned and Elsa laughed, handing her a slice of pizza from the pie resting on the coffee table.

“Rough day?”

“Yeah,” Emma muttered around a bite, “tanning bed guy showed up again.”

“Oh,” Elsa laughed, wrinkling her nose, “that must have been embarrassing.”

Emma waved her hand. “Don’t want to talk about it. I just want to stuff my face with pizza and zone out in front of the TV.” She narrowed her eyes at the screen and groaned, “Not this, Elsa, seriously?”

Her best friend shook her head as she chuckled at Emma. “Dr. Oz gives lots of good advice.” She poked Emma in the shoulder. “You should listen to him, junk food junkie. How you’re ever going to be a personal trainer when you eat like a fourteen year old, is beyond me.”

Emma smirked and lifted two fingers, “One, I was gifted with an amazing metabolism. Two, my clients will just need to do as I say, not as I do.”

They both laughed then and continued devouring the pizza. Emma’s brow furrowed as she tried to follow the show, since she had missed the first half. “What’s wrong with this girl he’s talking to?” she finally asked Elsa.

“Seasonal affective disorder,” Elsa explained, “lots of people get it in the winter.”

Emma snorted. “Is that a real thing? It sounds made up.”

Elsa shrugged, “I don’t understand it, since I love winter. The snow is so pretty, and the cold – I just don’t get why it bothers people.”

Emma rolled her eyes and tossed a throw pillow at her friends’ head, “Okay, you’re weird, we’ve established that.”

Elsa whacked Emma with the pillow then hugged it to her chest instead of giving it back. “Seriously though, it is a real thing. My friend at work struggles with it. I finally talked him into seeing a therapist, and Killian says it really helps him. Some things that help are physical, like –“

The blood had drained from Emma’s face as she choked out, “like a tanning bed?”

Elsa’s eyes widened, “Yeah, actually, and he swims in an indoor pool, too. Why?”

Emma groaned, dropping her pizza back to the box. She covered her face with both hands. “Please,” she muttered between her fingers, “don’t tell me his last name is Jones and that he has a British accent.”

“Yeah, he –“ Elsa’s words cut off as understanding dawned, “oh my god, you’re not saying he’s the tanning bed guy?”

Emma peeked through her fingers, “Yes, that’s what I’m saying. He introduced himself today – at the pool. Trying to be nice, actually.” She moaned as she lowered her head to Elsa’s lap. “I’m a bitch,” she whispered.

Elsa just gave a tiny, soft laugh as she worked the tangles out of Emma’s hair with her long fingers. “Well, so am I, that’s why we’re friends.”

*****************************************************

Emma hoped that good intentions justified quasi-stalking. She had to make it up to Killian for being so horrible, and she couldn’t just wait around to bump into him again. She pulled his account up on her work computer and learned his gym routine. Killian Jones was an extremely punctual person of habit. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he got to the gym at 5 am and left at 6:30. Emma didn’t get to her shift on those days until 8:00. But on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, he arrived at 7:00 pm and left at 8:30, which were the same days that Emma worked late.

Unfortunately, Elsa informed her that Killian had come down with the dreaded flu. By the time he came back to the gym, and Emma had figured out how to approach him, it was February the 14th. It wasn’t ideal to approach him on Valentine’s Day. After all, she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. But if she put it off any longer, she knew she would chicken out. So on Valentine’s Day, when Killian Jones exited the gym, he found Emma Swan leaning against his black SUV with a smoothie in her hand. (That had taken additional stalking. To ascertain the smoothie he usually ordered and which vehicle in the parking lot belonged to him.)

“A peace offering?” Emma asked, hating when her voice cracked a bit. When he just stood there with his mouth hanging open, she rushed on, “And an apology? For walking in on you and then. . .well, for being a bitch.”

That finally got a chuckle out of him. He shuffled forward, and for the first time looked nervous. He tossed his bag in the back seat then turned to her with a smile as he leaned against the car with his arms crossed. “What brought on this sudden change?”

Emma’s face fell, and her eyes lowered to stare at the cup in her hand. “Your friend, Elsa Arrendale? I’m her roommate.”

“Oh,” Killian said, scratching behind his ear.

“And she didn’t tell me much,” Emma rushed to explain, “just enough to make me see how quick I was to judge you.”

Killian nodded. “So she told you I’m a mess this time of year, huh?”

Emma smiled and shrugged, “Hey, not everyone loves freezing their ass off the way Elsa does.” That got another chuckle out of him. “And besides, I’m a mess pretty much year round.”

“Well,” Killian said with a long sigh, “I was too, for a while. Right after my Milah died, I could barely get out of bed each morning. That was five years ago.”

Emma frowned. “I’m so sorry. Who was she? Your wife?”

“Aye,” Killian answered softly, “she died in a car accident. This time of year. We were going out on a nice date.”

“Valentine’s day?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head and a false grin, “my birthday, actually, end of January.”

“I’m so sorry, Killian. No wonder this time of year is so hard for you.” She bit her lip. “Can you ever forgive me for being such a jerk to you?”

He ran his hand down his face, and afterwards, he gave her a more relaxed smile. “Of course I forgive you, Swan. I do make an arse of myself at times, so I can’t really blame you.”

They shared a laugh at that. Emma cocked her head, studying him and seeing him in a whole new light. “You have Valentine plans?”

Both his eyebrows lifted, “Can’t say I do. Why?”

She shrugged, “How about I buy you a drink?” She shook the smoothie cup still in her hand. “A bit stronger than this.”

Killian gave her a sinful smile, cocked his head, and tapped his lips. “I’d say you owe me a proper apology, love.”

Emma wanted to scoff, to roll her eyes, but all she could do was smile as a blush crept up her face. “That’s what the drink is for.”

Killian pouted then, quite affectively. “That’s all I get? When this time of year makes me so, so sad?”

What Emma did next was partly to shut him up. However, she had to admit, it was also because she had imagined what it would be like to kiss him a thousand times since the tanning bed. So she lunged for him, the smoothie falling to the ground forgotten with a thud and a splash. She hauled him in by the collar of his shirt, her mouth hungrily taking his.

Because she could admit it now: Yes, she liked what she saw.

#cs ff #cs fanfic #cs valentine fic #meet-cute #sort of #humor

[of-muppets-and-men]

I wish you could meet him

Katara was… conflicted.

On one hand, today was arguably the most beautiful day she’d ever experienced. The summer sun shined in all its glory upon her home, bringing a newfound warmth that was unprecedented in the South Pole. There wasn’t a cloud for miles, letting her see far and beyond the horizons. The sea glistened like gemstones; soft crested waves rushing past her ankles and seeping into the sand.

In the distance, Katara could hear the swarming flocks of otter penguin hunting in the surf. The waterbender lifted her face to the sky, drawing in the heat. She may rise with the moon, but it wouldn’t stop her from enjoying this. After all…

Today was the very same day her mother had been taken from her, all those years ago.

Katara had tried to make a habit of visiting every year and today was no exception. But this time, however, she found difficulty coming any closer to the gravestone. And so she stood idly in the ebb and flow of the tide.

It was strange, surreal even.

It didn’t feel like 12 years. Katara closed her eyes and bowed her head, still haunted by the memory of it all. The terror she felt. The reassuring look on her mother’s face. The gruffness of Yon Rha’s voice. She recalled every single detail, all of them, as if it had happened yesterday. Katara managed to stifle her urge to cry. The young woman trembled as her hand instinctively loomed toward her neck, to rub her necklace for comfort.

Only then did she remember her other reason for coming.

Her legs slowly sprang to life, turning to face her mother’s grave that sat mere feet away. Katara ambled in its direction, muddying the surf; the crunch of the coarse sand beneath her feet. There was so much that needed to be said; Katara’s heart firmly situated in her throat. Tentatively, she stopped next the outer ring of stones, sitting cross-legged before them. A slow and deliberate exhale passed through her lips; time for her annual talk.

“Hey, Mom.” She began, “I hope you’ve been okay…”

She halted herself for a moment. Katara fully knew she was talking to nobody, but it helped her cope. And keep her mother’s memory alive.

“I’ve been good… great even. Umm.. Do you remember my friend, Zuko? The Fire Nation boy who also happens to be the Fire Lord? Yeah… I started seeing him not long after we last spoke. I know. Me dating a boy from the Fire Nation and its figurehead no less. I didn’t think I had it in me either.”

The young woman drew her gaze towards the lone centerpiece. The smile curling at her lips was tainted by the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Using her left thumb, Katara casually wiped them away before she broke down altogether. The silence amongst the stones didn’t help either; gentle gusts of wind her only source of feedback.

“Hah… I can only imagine what you’re thinking. Of all the people I could’ve fallen for, it had to be the bratty prince that nearly burned down the village. But I swear to you, Mom. Zuko’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. He’s kind… He listens… He… makes me happy. I wish you could meet him, I think you’d like him too.

She never would’ve imagined living the life she’s led, but fate often worked in mysterious ways. Katara let out a soft chuckle, reminiscing on her time as enemies with the love of her life. His angry little fits, his constant raving about regaining his honour, and of course, that god awful ponytail. Thank Tui and La it didn’t last. Katara once again fiddled with the jewel taught around her neck; it’s fiery shine radiant in the sunlight.

“Mom…” Katara smiled tearfully, “He proposed to me…”

She hardly believed the words coming out of her own mouth. The Waterbender adjusted her posture, brandishing her betrothal necklace with pride. A velvet band carrying a luminous fire opal, the symbol of her tribe painstakingly hand-chiseled across its surface.

It was breathtaking; no one could deny that. And somehow, the sunshine seemed dim, as if the heavens agreed.

“I haven’t told Sokka or Dad yet. I wanted you to be the first to know.” Katara explained cheerily. Even if Kya was gone, she still deserved that right. “But please don’t be upset with what I did with your necklace.”

Katara began to fret, as if her mother were about to reprimand her. Blue eyes drifted upon the beach, laced with uncertainty. She couldn’t help feeling guilty; that necklace had become somewhat of an heirloom, the legacy of her Gran Gran and Kya’s courage. Not to mention Katara’s sole memento. But fortunately for her family, it was in safe hands. Her fiance’s more specifically.

“I hope you don’t mind me giving it to him. You were my everything until that monster took you away from us. From me. Nothing could ever fill the void you left behind, but Zuko’s really been doing his best to try… and I...”

A devious, diminutive smirk replaced her smile, her eyes staring yet again at center stone. Her free hand made its way toward her stomach; a single tear flowing across her cheek. With a gentle stroke of her shirt, Katara announced her final surprise.

“I haven’t told him yet... but I’m pregnant.”

The hand caressing her necklace joined its partner; leaving nothing to stop the river of tears that followed her first. Feeling nothing except joy, the young woman made no attempt to wipe them away; the impact of her words sending shivers across her skin. Her future and future of the Fire Nation, was due in less than a year. A child in years prior, would’ve been impossible; a child of once opposing nations.

“It’s still too early to say if it’s a boy or a girl.” A nervous laugh sputtered from her mouth, “But I’m excited. Terrified but excited.”

With all her confessions said and done, Katara realized it was about time for her to go home. Before anyone deciding to interrupt or worse, snoop. Can’t have anyone ruining her surprises. She rose and stood tall, stretching her stiff limbs outward. After a few satisfying pops in her knees and back, Katara looked one last time at her mother’s grave.

“I love you, mom.” Katara grieved “I promise to bring my family next time.”

And so Katara made the quick walk back to the shoreline, picking up her boots that she very nearly forgot about amidst her thoughts. She very much enjoyed the sound of 'her family'. Rather than the somber exit she normally took, Katara walked with her head held high.

For her future was bright and filled with new beginnings.

#atla #atla fanfic #avatar: tla #avatar the last airbender #pro zutara #zutara #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #older gaang