#my mother didn’t recognize me from behind bc my hair was different even with me wearing the sweater my nana handmade 4 me. HAIR VALIDATION

[opqrstuv04]

Hair straightening incident remedied by shower has got me feeling unwise <- fully confident I can now pull off a shaggy curly girlmullet if I ask my hairdresser reeally nicely

#“ooo aaah my hair is wavycurly and not textured enough to hold a cool haircut” #“ooh my hair isn’t actually textured I’m just faking it with product” WRONG #my mother didn’t recognize me from behind bc my hair was different even with me wearing the sweater my nana handmade 4 me. HAIR VALIDATION #haircut in March.. what shall I do……… #💌

[dancingazaleas]

zeke yeager | my baby

this is bc of the new episode; i’ve known his backstory for a while but i didn’t come up with the idea until now LFMAOOAOA

anyways zeke supremacy

edit: this is so bad but enjoy LMFOAOAOA

warnings/notes: this is strictly platonic, takes place in canonverse during zeke’s childhood then to the beginning of season 4, cursing, mentions of mental abuse from family, murder, fem!reader(feel free to change if u want), yeah i’m unoriginal and the reader is the female titan before annie, angst,

when you first met zeke, zeke was extremely hesitant towards you.

grisha and dina had brought you into the house, a 17 year old girl who had soft and gentle eyes along with a nice smile. zeke had recognized you from the warrior program. you hadn’t inherited your titan just yet, you still had a few more years before they would allow it to be given to you. your predecessor gained the titan around your age, no one really knows why. zeke assumes that it must be a similar case with mr. ksaver and himself.

it shocked zeke in all honesty. they’re letting a warrior watch over him? one that isn’t in cahoots with his mother and father?

it wasn’t until grisha and dina pulled him into a different room and told him to get information on your views that he understood why. they wanted to use you, just like they wanted to use zeke. the worst of it all was that zeke knows you. he looks up to you, you graduated third out of all of your peers, you express love with the younger candidates such as zeke.

he felt like curling up in his bed and crying, he didn’t want you to babysit him just so his parents could use you.

but whenever the couple left, your arms encased him in warmth. you were hugging him tightly to you, fingernails surely digging into the fabric of his shirt. he felt his eyes widen whenever he felt a drop of a liquid on his shoulder. you were crying.

you pulled away and put a hand on his cheek, looking at him with endearment. zeke started crying at this, not once had dina touched him like this. not once had grisha looked at him like this.

“it’s okay, my boy,” you pull him close again, “i’m here.”

for the first time, zeke wasn’t cowering in a corner while he sobbed. he sobbed in the arms of a person, one that loved him dearly whether he knew it or not. you were even crying for him.

“my mother and father were apart of the same group,” you whispered as you stroked his hair, “they pushed me so far to my limits.”

“so, i did something i regret,” you sob, “something i hope you’re never forced to do.”

your whimper gave him chills, “i murdered my mother with a butcher knife and pinned the crime onto my father. all at the age of ten. to this day, i don’t know how i got away with it. maybe the police pitied me or found it excusable because of their affiliations with the group.”

“you hurt someone,” he sniffles, eyes widened in fear.

it gave you a frown, however you couldn’t blame him, “i did. it was mistake and i wish i had never done it. i just wished for my mother and father to love me, not to use me. after that, i found myself in the warrior program. maybe with this power, i could do some good. to show marley that us eldians are not devils.”

you rid him of his snot and tears with your shirt, “when i saw your father the time he came to observe you, i was immediately able to tell. your reaction had said it all. i can’t allow myself to witness you go through what i did without doing something. even if it’s small.”

he blinks at you after you softly kiss him on his forehead.

“now, is there anything you want to do?”

————

that afternoon, you played catch and volleyball with zeke. after that, you bought him whatever meal he wanted from the market and ate with him at the table. he told you about his stuffed monkey, who he named jerry, and his adventures.

he was sad when you had to leave, to which dina and grisha informed him you would come to their home sparingly. although he was delighted, he was also sad.

the next day, you doted on him during the short breaks between his training. patting his head, shaking him by his shoulders, and giving him a hug. when lunch came around, you pulled out a home cooked lunch for him as you sat on a bench. you would give him advice with training and his health while he ate.

he even shared some of his food with her.

after that was his time with ksaver. he didn’t see you during that time, obviously, but that didn’t mean you didn’t come during their conversations.

zeke was surprised to hear the praising from ksaver. ksaver said that you were a good figure for him and that you had a genuine heart. it made him feel at ease.

when the day was over, you walked zeke home and even ate dinner with him and his parents. it was a surprise that made you slightly bitter, but you accepted nonetheless.

they talked to you excitedly, asking about your duties as a warrior. you exceptionally avoided answering the questions, instead prodding at their own occupations and duties.

in the end, it felt like a game of tag. avoiding and then charging.

the night you were on your way to watch zeke, you felt your heart drop at the feral screeching of grisha and the reassurance of dina. you banged your fist against the door worriedly, sweat forming at your hairline.

the yelling stopped and you heard the patter of footsteps against the floor. dina looked flustered as she opened the door, face tear stained and eyebrows knitted up in concern.

“oh, (name), we don’t need you to watch over him anymore.”

“no, please, allow me,” you put on a fake smile that made her relax.

“you can take him out for a bit,” she, surprisingly, compromised and stepped aside to let you inside.

you bolted to zeke’s dark room. he was in a corner with his knees pushed against his chest and his hands covering his ears. his tears were making puddles on his knees as he stared blankly at the wall. you rush to him, pulling his head into your chest and picking him up.

“it’s alright,” you whispered, “you’ll be with me for a little bit.”

he didn’t respond but just wiped his eyes when he realized he would pass by his mom. you gave dina a brisk goodbye before leaving and taking him to a nearby park.

“it’s alright, my boy, it’s alright,” you coo and stroke his sweaty back.

for once, he felt okay.

————

the day zeke reported his parents, you held him in your arms. from then, he stayed with his grandparents and often found himself spending time with you after training when his schedule allowed it.

now, zeke is 16 and you’re 29. zeke was often seen with you or ksaver during his free time, now having the power of the best titan secured when ksaver’s term is up.

you mentor a girl named annie leonhardt, the next inheritor of the female titan. zeke occasionally sees you and annie catching some bugs in the grass during your mentoring. other days, you talk to her or just look at the sky. once at the beginning of the year, he once saw you take annie ice skating over a lake.

when he spends his time with you, you’re often doting on him and taking care of him. one time, you convinced the kids and some of the older soldiers to all play a game of baseball after your training was over.

you walked the extra mile for zeke no matter what. zeke was in trouble during a war and you swatted him into the trenches with your hand before attacking the enemy a year ago. whenever zeke would get hurt, you’d be his nurse.

if zeke’s being honest, you’re the maternal figure in his life. you act as if he’s your son, love him like he’s your son, and sometimes you even let it slip and call him that. sometimes zeke messes up and calls you mom.

in your eyes, he is your son.

in his eyes, you’re his mom.

but with being a parental figure came with fighting. it didn’t happen often, but whenever it did it was bad. zeke would become more irritable and angry while you would become reserved and melancholy.

when zeke was 14, you got into a fight so bad that it ended up getting you bedridden. you’d been sick from stress and it lasted for weeks until zeke swallowed his pride and apologized.

it almost made bertholdt, annie, reiner, porco, pieck, and marcel laugh at how domestic the two of you are when together. but as soon as you left zeke’s side, he would revert back to his quiet and receptive personality.

“zeke, my boy,” you call as you walk towards all the warrior candidates, “i’ve got your favorite.”

“thanks,” he hums when you stand beside him.

“i also brought some food for you all too. since we didn’t have training today, i thought you all could enjoy a nice break by having a picnic,” you clap your hands with a smile and they all feel like they’re seeing an angel.

they all agree and follow behind you when you start leading them towards a grassy field. you set the basket down and rummage through it, pulling out a nice thick blanket so the blades of the grass wouldn’t poke through.

“help me lay this out,” zeke sighs but obliges.

with zeke’s help, everyone is sitting on the blanket and eating and conversing. you listen quietly as you chew on the sandwich you made.

“miss (name),” pieck’s soft voice said beside you, “thank you for the picnic.”

you smile and shake your head, cheeks puffing out from the food that’s still in your mouth.

“can we do this again,” shyly asks reiner.

you gulp down your food and choke a bit, “y-yes! of course!”

you turn to zeke and speak quietly, “how was training yesterday?”

“it was fine. my calves are kind of sore though, it’s been a while since we did squats,” he shrugs and looks up, “ksaver let me pitch to him again.”

“i’m assuming it was at least enjoyable?”

“yeah...,” he trails off, “could you massage my calves for me in a little while?”

you pinch his cheek as you laugh, “of course! anything for you, my child.”

he chuckles while he swats at your hand, “quit that. it hurts.”

before you could pinch him even harder, porco’s loud voice interrupted.

“miss (name), are you zeke’s mom?”

his brother and annie hit him, scolding him in whispers.

“i-i’m so sorry miss (name)..! my brother means no harm,” marcel stutters nervously.

“it’s alright, i don’t mind,” zeke’s slightly flustered, “but no, i’m not zeke’s mother.”

“so why do you act so friendly?”

“i met zeke when i was 17 and he was just a little boy. i would watch him while his grandparents were away,” you lie like it’s nothing.

“i’ve always seen zeke as my little boy though even if i’m only 13 years older,” it has them all gaping and zeke staring at his food.

“why’d you become a warrior then,” reiner blurts out, slapping a hand over his mouth in shame, “sorry... but with all due respect, you have a family you love and who love you... why would you let your life end so short?”

for just a second the smile on your face cracks into a frown as you feel your throat tighten up, “why are you asking such disrespectful questions? i understand you have no malicious intent, however it sounds as if you are seeing my decision as an ignorant one. are you calling me ignorant for becoming a warrior?”

zeke just looks away sadly. you never really had to put on this demanding ploy too much since no one dared to ask a question such as reiner did. not to mention that you had to in order to keep your position. reiner scrambles to pledge his loyalty to marley with your eyes burning holes into his head.

the others slightly cower in fear, they’d only ever heard that you could be like this from their mentors. but when they all looked in your, now, sad eyes, they relaxed.

“but, to answer your question,” you say reluctantly, “i was already selected to inherit the female titan.”

“now,” you cough and zeke knows it’s because you want to cry, “i need to go.”

they all help you get everything together, fidgeting anxious as they watch you walk back to the dorm. when you were far enough away, porco shouts at reiner for asking such questions and ruining the picnic. it ends up with annie joining in with the berating and marcel slapping porco upside the head.

zeke just leaves and follows you. he can’t be bothered to listen to them argue while you’re probably crying.

zeke knew it was about your 13 years coming to an end, meaning you wouldn’t be with him anymore. the first time he brought it up, you sobbed out apologies while holding his head to your chest. zeke knows not to bring it up again.

however, reiner didn’t. although he was slightly frustrated with reiner, he understood that he meant no harm to you. sometimes reiner just doesn’t think before he speaks.

zeke finds you with your head in your hands as you cry on your bed. the creaking of the door opening has you looking up and making eye contact and your eyes fill up with tears. zeke shut the door behind him and sat next to you after you pat the spot beside you.

zeke knows what’s going to happen, but allows it anyways because it puts you both at ease.

you cradle his head to your chest, stroking his hair with one hand and his back with another. zeke feels himself starting to cry when you cry out apologies and exclamations of love.

“zeke, my boy, i love you,” you whimper, “i’m so sorry i cannot be by your side until i grow old.”

zeke’s fingers curl into the fabric of your shirt and let’s out a broken sob.

“you’re the light of my life, zeke,” you whisper, “my beautiful boy, my beautiful baby.”

his shoulders shake and he wanted to tell you to stop and to pull away. but he won’t.

“you’re the son i never had, zeke, did you know that,” you sob and squeeze him tight.

it has him wailing and holding you tight. though zeke knew this, you never said it out loud.

“my baby, my baby,” you croak, “i love you so much, zeke.”

“love you too,” he chokes out, muffled by your shirt.

“zeke, my boy, my son, my zeke.”

“please don’t leave me,” it makes you sob even louder.

“i’m so sorry, zeke, i’m so sorry.”

————

zeke couldn’t look in annie’s direction after your term ended and her’s started. even at 29 years of age, he still curls up in a ball and cries himself to sleep. he carries a photograph of the two of you, he remembers taking the picture on your 26th birthday.

back on marley, whenever you were brought up in conversations, reiner, porco, and pieck stared at him with sympathy.

after zeke’s arms grow back on the blimp, he pulls out the folded photograph from his pocket. he stares at your beaming smile.

“who’s the girl,” eren asks, ignoring how yelena looks at him fiercely, “when’d you get a girlfriend?”

zeke shakes his head, “not a girlfriend.”

“who is she then,” eren gestures with his hand, the clinking of the metal chains echoing in the small room on the blimp.

“my mother,” he murmurs while he hands it to eren.

“dina doesn’t look like that.”

“eren, did you ever see a memory of a woman being introduced as a babysitter?”

“now that it’s being mentioned, yea.”

“that’s her,” the memory has him chuckling, “she treated me like her son before she died.”

eren transfers his gaze to yelena, a silent request for her to give more information.

“(name) (last name) was the inheritor of the female titan before annie leonhardt. she inherited the titan a few months after she turned 17, her predecessor, flora, was unexpectedly injured during war and was not able to regenerate. although disorganized and unexpected, (name) managed to eat flora. she died at the age of 30 when annie ate her as a pure titan,” yelena elaborates hesitantly as zeke’s small smile fades, “she was often recognized for her kind personality and optimistic attitude.”

“i see,” he said.

“were you her beautiful boy,” eren taunts.

“yes. i was.”

he sounds sad while he folds it back up and puts it in his pocket.

maybe he could be the same to eren.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot fanfiction #zeke yeager #zeke yeager x reader #snk zeke #zeke x reader #attack on titan zeke #zeke jaeger #shingeki no kyojin zeke #zeke x you #snk angst

[hey-hamlet]

*slides in on socks* hey can we hear more abt that bnha cult au, the one where bc mido is quirkless and the cult town thinks hes better for it

So I’m probably going to be too lazy to actually write that as a full fic, so lemme go find my brainstorming and yeet it here for you all! Under a read more bc this is long and messy.

The whole fic takes place over either 1 or 1.5 months

Quirks = route of evil, those without powers are closest to the divine's intentions and anything subverting them from that should be expunged. Closer to normal you look = purer you are. Izuku is considered near gold standard excluding his green hair

2000 people in the town - 82 are quirkless (marked with a band - where? Wrist, neck or?)

Global quirkless pop = 20% but japan is 5%, much much lower in Izuku's generation, movement has been around since the dawn of quirks - infanticide

100 people statistically would make sense but rate of quirkless births vs quirkless people is very different as many die due to poor patient care

Some members of the town are the grieving parents of people who's quirkless children were killed as doctors didn't listen to them - some of the first people izuku meet

"Hizashi's family" Invite izuku over - they aren't related, it's part of a plot where they look at quirk records to invite the quirkless to join. Those who do not are disposed of in the woods.

The quirkless are treated like royalty, free food + other stuff

Anyone not on board is killed - settlement is new but buildings are old - the prior town was chased out/killed to make room for the cult. They used to meet in normal churches but quirkless supporting cults were cracked down on so they relocated into the woods by taking over a town

Start the fic w izuku getting off the train, Town is called Rishi, based the town off Nanmoku

Mum: Miyatani Haiyu Dad: Miyatani Juzou Daughter: Miyatani Kei

Need a very secretive, insular vibe - the place has no wifi, a church radio station and a townhall

Timeline

Arival Bakugo and Izuku take the train, Bakugo is there bc his mother told him to go: Inko was worried about sending Izuku off alone so she offered up bakugo to play guard dog. Bakugo is pissed. 

Bakugo will have a blow up about being there pretty early, izuku will try and soothe him which will only make him angrier. Is shinsou there? 

Shinsou is coming as well, but later > originally going to meet up w izuku for the first time (shitty foster parents) but wants to shield him from bakugo. Izuku just wants to sleep.

Golden band for the quirkless (ribbon?) “in our town we value good fashioned hard work so we like to give back to the quirkless, this little band lets everyone know the folks we should give a little more to”

Look around town, Izuku alone (shinsou there tomorrow >> all three staying at an inn)

Meet the family, bakugo pissed right off and they talk some smack about him while izuku flounders. “bet he’s got some flashy quirk, huh? Seems like the type. Makes me sick, thinkin they're better just cause they’re -”

Bakugo goes straight to his room to be a piss baby, izuku looks around. They are setting up for a festival. A group of kids teases another with a visible mutation, she cries, izuku tells the kids off and they scatter, she says some concerning stuff izuku is concerned. 

Izuku eats dinner w the family, they talk about how they think he’s gonna like it there, the little kid is cute.

Shinsou rolls into town, they go for a hike, its pretty chill - they have a picnic n shit they have dinner w the family 

Back to room (share one), izuku fiddling w the radio to find mic’s show, find the town’s own radio, they listen: something about  someone being brought into the fold, visitors in town to be treated kindly, a reminder of a church service that week “Hold fast to your faith, the world may slip a little further each day but we shall fight together to bring our faith outwards and bring purity back to the world” 

“Wow that was weird” “Wanna do some research?” “Fuck, sure.” 

They run into bakugo at breakfast, izuku mentions the show and bakugo kinda nods, “you heard it too?” “yeah. Fuckin weird” “We were gonna do some digging -” “Fuck off, I don’t need you two messing with my shit, I’ll look into myself.” “That was almost polite for Bakugo, huh?” 

Maybe timeskip to end of week? 

With the family, doing arts craft with the daughter. Shinso is sleeping off a migraine. They mention church vaguely in the background and Izuku tries to look like he's not listening in.

The daughter brings it up to izuku and the family chuckle and say he’s free to come if he wants but there is no need to rush him.

They eat lunch, the family kinda advertise the town to him, talk about the nice quirkless girl down the street his age, how rare it is for quirkless people to be born in this generation. Izuku vaguely thinks about how nice it would be to live there

Church that night, izuku looks in on shinsou to see he's still sleeping in the dark, goes to bakugo “look i know i’m sorry but they’re having church tonight and i know you were a little interested and i was gonna go anyway -” “I’m coming with because otherwise you’ll be useless.” They decide to sneak around to listen “I was kinda -” “yeah, sure” “wait but -” “oh fuck off, it rubbed me the wrong way too. The weirdos might talk different if they know we’re there.”

Bakugo throws a darker jacket at Izuku, he slips on a beanie and they head out into the woods, walking through to reach the back of the church. They wait 20 minutes after it was supposed to start and creep out, they listen in. 

“We will purge the impure our streets, we will stop this blight and, we will enact god's wrath and spare the pure, letting relieve the purity of the past. We will strike them down in his name, let them know we are his wolves let loose upon the blinded sheep.” 

Bakugo grabs izuku’s arm, they are both pale. They go to run, and a metal sheet falls down. The preacher goes quiet and someone a few people stand and the two of them book it as fast as they can.

They get back to the inn and have a minor freak out, they wake up shinso and they are like “oh shit, oh fuck.” they decide they need proof bc the pros will never listen to them, they become baby detectives 

Bakugo going off at izuku and having the shit scared out of him by a local, izuku steps in and the local backs down instantly, all smiles

One part of the story involves them running through the festival, changing clothes and masks as much as the can to escape the people chasing them.

The cult have a gas that is toxic to anyone with the quirk factor and intend to release it all across japan, starting with their own town. The climax of the story see’s Izuku going it alone through the facility, dead and dying bodies around him, looking out for any quirkless members that will stop him as he tries to find the locations of the canisters containing the gas. 

Aizawa and Nighteye are in the town as well, Bakugo and Shinsou run to them crying ab how Izuku is all alone and they think he’s going to die and oh god they can’t even help him - 

The dumb comedy throughline in this AU is Aizawa and Nighteye have to fake having crushes on each other to explain why they are hanging out so much in secluded areas. They both hate this very much. 

Izuku, who recognized the two heroes On Sight, is having a minor crisis about them both being here and apparently getting handsy behind a 7/11.

#i also have the first half of chap one written #i might post it just bc later #its very old and not very good but why not #purity au #bnha au #bnha #asks

[plant-flwrs]

hi!! can i request a sad fred/george out past curfew after doing a prank or detention and they find (more like smell) the reader making sweets from the kitchens - he falls in love with her bc she helps him feel better and everything she does reminds him of home and his family 🥺 thank u!

sweet treats // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: i love this request! it’s such a cute little blurb and idea and i hope i did it justice! i might even like ur request more than what i wrote 😳 n e way i hope u like it!!! thanks for requesting!!!

------

He knew the sound of his feet shuffling on the stone floor was audible, the risk of getting caught after curfew loomed over him like a rain cloud. It usually would have thrilled him, but right now he couldn’t feel anything besides paralyzing fear and worry.

It had only been a day since Ginny went missing, presumably taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and George was nauseated every minute since he found out. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and he didn’t think he would ever sleep again. His eyes felt heavy, but his mind whirled with every possibility of what was happening to Ginny. The entire castle felt different, every looming shadow felt like a threat, and every hidden passageway felt like a death trap.

He made sure to avoid all shadows, and walked cautiously in the center of the hallway. He hadn’t even bothered to take the map with him, deciding he didn’t care if Filch caught him.

He walked aimlessly. The only thing on his mind was Ginny. He felt his eyes watering, and didn’t bother to wipe the tears away.

He hadn’t known how long he had been out of bed for. He was nearing back to the common room, walking past the Great Hall. The massive doors were cracked open, and the dim light of a few candles shown through the small opening. George shuffled in, deciding to sit at the table for a minute. His eyes fell on the spot where Ginny had last sat for dinner, and his body felt weak. He sat there, where she had sat, and ran his hands over the wood. Tears fell from his eyes and onto the table. He looked up, glancing at the enchanted ceiling above him. The sky had clouded and the dazzling stars were barely noticeable.

Regaining some composure, he lifted himself from the bench. He then looked around, trying to find where the light was coming from. He noticed that the door leading down to the kitchens was ajar, light spilling from the entrance as it did the Great Hall. He walked over to the door, wiping his face of any tears. Pulling it open, he was rushed by the smell of pumpkin and baked goods. He looked over his shoulder, making sure no one saw him start down the stairs. He made one last effort to conceal the fact that he had been crying, bringing the neck of his sweatshirt up to wipe his face.

He pulled open the door to the kitchen, and the smell was stronger. It reminded him of a specific moment of his childhood. He had woken up in the middle of the night, feeling scared from a nightmare he had. He stumbled down the rickety stairs of his house, going to get a glass of water. There was candlelight illuminating the bottom of the stairs, and he followed the light. He turned the corner to see his mother pulling cookies from the oven. She turned to place them on the counter and nearly dropped them when she saw George watching her.

“Fred?” she narrowed her eyes, shaking her head, “George, what are you doing up?”

He shrugged, moving to sit at the table, “had a bad dream.”

His mother looked at him suspiciously, trying to decide if the mischievous boy was telling the truth. She saw the sweat stained brim of his shirt, his watery eyes, and his disheveled hair. She filled a glass with some milk and put a couple of cookies on a plate. She brought them over to George and sat next to him.

“It was just a dream, dear,” she said, placing a hand over his.

He drank the milk and ate a cookie, feeling very grateful for his mother’s cooking skills.

“I know, just scary, ‘s all,” George said.

“You’re alright now,” she smiled at her son, pulling his head to rest on her shoulder, “safe and sound.”

 He leaned into her touch, still chewing on some of the cookie. His eyes felt heavy and he nearly fell asleep there, safe in his mother’s embrace.

Peeking into the Hogwarts kitchen, he was disappointed when he didn’t see his mother making cookies. Instead, he saw a girl from his year leaning over an old and tattered book, twirling her wand between her fingers. Bowls and utensils littered the counter around her, some flour and batter stained her pajama shirt.

You furrowed your brow, reading the cookbook intently. You were trying to figure out how much was too much pumpkin essence, always feeling tempted to add extra. You read your messy handwriting on the side of the page, a note you had left to yourself about not adding too much of the sweet ingredient. 

George watched you brush some hair out of your face, leaving a trail of flour on your forehead. You moved back to a large bowl, opening a bottle in the shape of a pumpkin and pouring it generously into the bowl. You bit your lip in concentration, capping the bottle when you were done. He watched your eyes flicker to your wand before you picked up a wooden spoon, deciding to do it by hand. You stirred the mixture, and once you were satisfied, you ate a little bit off the spoon. Smiling to yourself, you reached for a pan across the counter. You applied some parchment paper and began to spoon on scoops of the mixture.

George was debating whether or not to go back upstairs. He would climb into the unfamiliar bed, try to fall asleep but be unable to, haunted with worry. He heard a noise from above him, and startled, opening the door to the kitchen and shutting t it behind him.

“Ah!” you yelped, dropping the wooden spoon with a clatter to the floor. 

You stared at the boy, who had his back pressed against the door. He looked sad. Big, heavy, purple bags hung from under his eyes and his skin was ghostly pale. You recognized him to be one of the Weasley twins, and you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to figure out which one he was. You bent to pick up the spoon, meeting your eyes with his once you straightened. He began moving from the door, standing awkwardly behind the counter between you two.

“Hi,” you said, wiping your hands on a rag.

“Hi,” he said, his voice cracking. 

He looked down at the floor, seeming to be embarrassed.

“What are you doing down here?” you asked him, putting the dirty spoon on the counter.

“I couldn’t sleep. I was walking around the castle when I smelled something down here,” he said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his plaid pajama pants.

“Oh,” you replied, looking down at the mess you made in the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I was baking. I bake when I can’t sleep,” you smiled nervously at him, thinking he might find you odd.

He hadn’t found you odd. He smiled fondly, and nodded his head. 

“Do you mind if I stay down here?” he asked.

“Not at all,” you responded, blushing from the way he smiled at you.

You took the spoon to the sink and washed it, bringing it back to the bowl. George sat at a small wooden table a few feet away, where he could still see you. The chair was far too small for his long body, and he realized it was because it was made for house elves. He watched you begin to scoop the batter again, the pan nearly full now.

“What are you making?” he asked.

“Pumpkin cookies,” you said, not looking up from your batter.

George smiled again, a small smile he couldn’t seem to wipe off. Moments ago he had been torn with worry, but now he felt strangely at peace with you in the kitchen.

Your face was illuminated by the candles on the counter, an orange glow warping your features. He thought you were very beautiful in the candle light and he felt very comforted just by your presence.

You could feel George’s eyes on you, but you didn’t mind. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had heard about what had happened to his sister. You felt terribly bad for all the Weasleys. You had seen the redheads moping in the halls, and many people in Gryffindor ties were crying in the halls.

You slid the cookies into the large oven by your feet, and looked at the clock to mark when they would be done. You wiped your hands on the rag, and picked up your wand. You moved all the dirty bowls and kitchen equipment to the large sink, where you then casted a charm to make them wash themselves. You looked at the kitchen one last time, feeling accomplished, and moved to sit with George. 

You smiled widely at him, looking at his large legs bent awkwardly as he sat in the chair that was too small for him. You bent a little too, fitting into the chair easier than George did. You looked at him, his eyes cast down at his hands in his lap.

“Are you alright?” you asked.

His eyes met yours and his brow furrowed. His lips were pulled into a tight line. 

“Not really,” he said, his voice weak.

“I’m sorry,” you hadn’t wanted to say what you were sorry for, in case he didn’t want to hear it. 

He nodded appreciatively at you, and his eyes fell back down to his lap.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” you broke the silence, hoping that you could distract him from his thoughts.

He looked back up at you, interest piqued. He raised his eyebrows as if to ask you why, and you sighed.

“I’m feeling a bit homesick, I suppose. My mum wrote to me today and it made me miss her even more,” you said, bringing the letter from your pocket. You twisted it in your hands and placed it on the table. You had brought it down with you to read again while you ate the cookies.

“I guess I am too,” George said, looking back at the kitchen where you had been, “my mom bakes a lot. She’s a great baker.”

George seemed like he was trying not to cry, and you frowned at him. You reached forward and placed a comforting hand over his on the table.

“She sounds lovely,” you said.

He looked at your hands, swallowing back some tears. He ran his free hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. He turned his hand up so your palms were touching. He closed his hand around yours and squeezed it.

He looked up at you, meeting your concerned eyes with his sad ones. The two of you sat like that for a while, holding hands.

You eventually glanced at the clock, and felt glad to see that your cookies were just about done. 

“The cookies should be done,” you said quietly, and the both of you retracted your hands.

George’s eyes followed you as you went to get the cookies. You waved your wand, and all of the now clean and dry dishes flew back to their right places. You levitated the pan from the oven, putting it to rest on the counter. You retrieved a large plate from a cabinet, and a spatula from a drawer. You dished the cookies onto the plate and got two glasses from another cabinet. You pulled open a fridge and got a jug of milk. George smiled fondly at you, his heart spinning in his chest.

You balance the plate on the inside of your arm, your hands full with two glasses of milk. You put one glass in front of George and the plate of cookies between you two. The room filled with the wonderful smell of pumpkin, and George felt at home.

The two of you ate cookies together, and you were able to make George laugh a few times. He felt better, he wasn’t consumed with thoughts about his sister, and he felt like he could actually get some sleep.

You put the remaining cookies in a container you had conjured, closing the lid and holding the box in your hands. You and George stood at the bottom of the stairs, about to walk back up.

“I’m glad I found you here,” George said, turning to you.

“Me too, I’m glad you came.”

He smiled and sighed heavily, his eyes feeling very heavy.

“You made me feel a lot better, and the cookies were delicious.”

“Here,” you moved the container into his bigger hands, “you can have them.”

You shifted, moving your cookbook to fill the space in your hands.

“Oh no,” he said, holding them back out to you, “you made them.”

You shook your head, refusing to take them back.

“Are you sure?” you nodded your head, “Alright, thanks.”

You smiled up at him, and he smiled back down at you.

The two of you walked wordlessly upstairs, and you walked George back to his common room. You faced each other one last time, still smiling.

“Goodnight, Y/n,” he said, his voice hushed.

“Goodnight,” you replied, and started walking to your own common room.

George watched you until you turned the corner, his only thoughts about you.

The next morning, George’s eyes felt heavy and swollen from lack of sleep and crying. He had felt happy for a moment when he first woke, his mind still occupied by you, until he saw Fred’s abandoned bed next to his.

He pulled the covers off of him and changed from his pajamas. He wore his Weasley family sweater, feeling awfully homesick.

The Gryffindor common room was eerily quiet. Everyone’s mouths were in downcast frowns, moping around like scared animals.

George couldn’t stand it; he had to get some fresh air. He passed his brother on the couch, leaning into Angelina’s comforting arm. Their eyes met and neither of them smiled.

George stuffed his cold hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looked at the cloudy sky, sitting at a bench in the courtyard. He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of a tin hitting the table in front of him. He looked towards the noise and saw you. You had put a tin full of assorted cookies on the table. You were wrapped in a scarf with your house colors on it, the tip of your nose pink.

“Hi, George,” you said, moving to sit across from him.

“Hi,” he smiled, relieved to see you again.

��I made these this morning, and I know it’s early, and you just had some yesterday,” you rambled, and George found it adorable, “but you looked like you could use some more.”

He looked at you, eyes full of adoration. He nodded happily, picking a cookie up and taking a large bite. His eyes closed in euphoria, appreciating how good of a baker you were.

“These are really good, thank you,” he said, taking another.

“No problem,” you said, pushing the tin forwards.

“Do you feel better?” he asked.

“Me? Oh, yeah,” you replied, smiling bashfully at him, happy to know he remembered what you said the night before.

“Good,” he said, smiling at the blush on your cheeks.

“What about you? You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want,” you told him, lowering your voice to a serious and comforting tone.

“I’m just worried, you know?” George said, his expression saddening at the thought of Ginny.

“I know, but I’m sure she’ll be fine, really,” you said, bringing your hand to cover his again. He smiled at them, turning his palm like he did last night and holding your hand.

“I hope so,” he said, squeezing your hand.

George and Fred left the infirmary, saying goodbye to their parents as the adults went to Dumbledore’s office. They began the walk to their common room, finally feeling a release from their shoulders. They had seen Ginny safe and sound, a bit torn up, but safe. Just as Fred said the password to the portrait, George realized there was only one person he wanted to see, and you weren’t in the Gryffindor common room.

He told Fred he had to go, and broke off into a run. He ran down the stairs, taking them by two, and his long legs carried him through the halls. He ran through the doors of the great hall and down the stairs to the kitchens.

He found you there, putting icing on a beautiful cake. You eyes shot up at him, and you smiled,

“George? What are you doing down here?” you asked, and he walked towards you.

“I had to see you, I had to tell you; they found Ginny,” he said, and he was breathing heavily. He couldn’t tell if it was from running or from being so close to you.

His face was inches away from yours, and his hands gripped your shoulders. 

“Oh! That’s great, I’m so glad!” you said, dropping your icing spatula and embracing George.

He wrapped his arms around you, breathing in the smell of freshly baked cake. He pulled you away from his chest, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks. You stared at him, and he looked down at your lips. 

He closed the distance and kissed you gently. He tasted the sweet icing on your tongue, and smiled a little. Your hands were messy, but you didn’t care. You ran your hands through his hair, letting your fingernails drag through the red locks. You both pulled away, out of breath. He smiled at your swollen lips, and you smiled at the icing you had just rubbed all over his face.

You pulled out of his embrace, reaching for the rag on the counter. You brought it to his face and wiped away the sugary substance. You both stood there, smiling senselessly at each other.

“I baked a cake,” you said, “now it’s a celebration cake.”

“Can I have some?”

“Of course,” you moved away, finishing the frosting and slicing a generous piece for George.

You watched him take a bite, his mouth turning into an even wider smile.

“It’s delicious.”

#harry potter #hogwarts #weasley fic #weasley twins #george weasley x y/n #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fic #george weasley

[ushiwakaout]

Things I believe Oikawa Tooru (pro brazilian volleyball player) would say if you lived together (from the moment you wake up, to the moment you fall asleep).

for my sake, i’m gonna use mexican spanish bc i KNOW there’s such a big difference when speaking portugués - i’ll translate it anyway.

you live in brazil w oikawa too, and you do pottery

warnings: slight nsfw and major spoiler warning for timeskip

“Hey, lazy butt. Rise and shine.” (4:00 am)

you: “Oikawa, deja me en paz (leave me in peace).”

“No me hables así, soy tu novio. (Don’t talk to me like that, i’m you’re boyfriend).”

“I’m gonna go on a run, i’ll be back.”

“Beso(kiss).”

“Make me some breakfast before i come back, will ya?”

“Shoyos probably gonna stop by so make extra! love you, bye!” (4:30 am)

“We’re back! And i’m brought shoyo, like i said i would!” (6:45 am)

“You’re lucky they’re willing to cook this morning, tiene una manó (they’ve got a hand(for cooking)).”

*taps your ass when passing by you in the kitchen*

“Thank you for the meal.” *forehead kiss*

“Gah! I’m stuffed! Thank you baby.” (7:30 am)

“We’ve got practice in the afternoon, you wanna come or?”

“What do you mean you can’t.”

“Oh, right you have projects you need to deliver... Good luck with that then.”

*tooru very much gets pouty when you can’t go to his practice bc he likes seeing you sunbathe*

*once hinata says thanks for breakfast and dips, oikawa will just watch you finish up your projects*

“You need help filling up the kiln?” (8:30 am)

“Do you need help glazing?”

“What about this one? Do i put it in the kiln?”

“Oye! Te estoy hablando! (Hey! I’m taking to you!)”

“Give me a kiss before you get a muddy and dirty.”

“Can we recreate that one scene from dirty dancing?”

“What? I watch american movies too you know!”

*although you say no, Oikawa will 100% sit behind you to reach his hands under your shirt, kiss the back of your neck, maybe tuck your hair out of the way so he can leave marks*

*you can’t tell me that this mother fucker hasn’t made you sit on his cock while you do pottery... please god. It will get so messy because he picks up your lap enough for him to fuck you so slowly*

“You got some on your face, come here.”

“Don’t get too messy”

*loves seeing you covered in pottery clay tho bc he knows you work with blood sweat and tears the way he does with volleyball*

“I’m gonna go ahead and get ready for practice.” (11:00 am)

“I gotta leave at 12, you sure you can’t come?”

“Be ready by the time i get back, we’re going on a date.”

“If you’re not ready i’ll go on the date by myself.”

“Do you know where i put my sunglasses?”

“Can i steal your sun cap, i can’t seem to find mine.”

“I’m gonna head out now, come give me a kiss.”

“Give me another one.”

“I won’t be late amor (love), just give me some sugar.”

“Hey get you’re clay hands off me.”

“I’ll be back around 4, i’ll let you know if i’m gonna be late.” (11:40 am)

*you smacked his ass on the way out and he didn’t even bother to check the fat hand mark on his shorts*

*over the phone “Hey amor (love) i’m gonna be running late okay?” (3:50 pm)

*still over the phone* “Don’t be mad, kay? I’ll be home as quick as i can. Besos (kisses), love you too.”

“IM HOME! I’ll shower and we’ll get going.” (4:30 pm)

*smacks your ass* “You look good.”

“Give me a kiss.”

“What do you mean no?”

“Oh come on, you like it when i’m sweaty~”

“EY! No me pegues! (Hey! Don’t hit me!).”

“Did you buy me more leave in conditioner?”

“Bring me towel!”

“No i genuinely forgot it this time, please hand it over i’m getting cold.”

“Gracias amor~ (Thanks love)”

“okay okay, i’m ready let’s go!” (5:00 pm)

“Hold my hand.”

“No te passes, dame tu mano. (Don’t cross the line, give me your hand).”

“Do you want food? I’m hungry- did you eat lunch? Okay good, i know you forget sometimes.”

“Let’s go get some acorda de mariscos” (açorda de mariscos is a seafood bread stew)

*will get recognized in public once and a while bc beach volleyball is a pretty big sport in portugal from what i know, correct me if i’m wrong, i’m mexican/american*

*will speak perfect portuguese to his fans, they’re always surprised*

*always has to show his residency card to prove that he’s of age to drink*

“They always mistake me as a minor, it’s annoying.” (5:30 pm)

“It’s not funny, can a man not get a paloma (a paloma is just a type of cocktail with tequilita and a type of grapefruit juice/soda) in peace?”

“Should i grow a beard? Why not? I think i’d look good.”

“A baby a staring at me, should i scare it?”

“Ow! I’m kidding, i’m kidding.”

“I want a baby, give me a baby.”

“What do you mean i’m enough? I don’t think that’s a compliment.”

“If i propose right now, will you give me a baby?”

“You’re such a bore.” 😤

“Let’s go to a club , i wanna dance.” (7:00 pm)

*you can’t tell me oikawa doesn’t know how to dance like a god*

“Stop being a prude and get closers, it’s not like we haven’t been closer.” (7:30 pm)

“Stop blushing...”

*when oikawa dances, his hands are roaming everywhere youre body*

“I’m gonna get another drink. You want anything?”

*you sit by your lonesome, and obviously someone has to hit on you because oikawa isn’t around*

“Hey- piss off, they said they aren’t interested and they are taken, by yours truly... So how about you run along now.”

*if oikawa wasn’t so humble about you he would probably beat the shit out of someone*

“Finish up your drink and we’ll head somewhere else.” (9:00 pm)

*he definitely club/bar hops*

*probably will get drunk at the third or fourth club*

“Baby~ Come give me a kiss.”

“Honey~ do you love me?”

“Yeah? give me a kiss.”

*will 100% make out with you in the club. one hand gripped at the back of your neck so you don’t push away*

*quicky in the club bathroom bc he’s not willing to wait, hand over your mouth and a bites your shoulder bc he’s as loud as you are*

“Let’s go home yeah?” (11:00 pm)

“Let’s take a shower together~”

*fucking in the bathroom*

*if you couldn’t tell, he’s horny when drunk*

“Oh! Iwa-chan is calling”

*both of you lay in bet together while he’s on the phone with iwaizumi*

“He wants to talk to you.”

“She said she doesn’t want to.”

*will make you lay on his chest while he just pets your hair*

*sees that your asleep and takes pictures of you while sleeping*

“Yeah she’s asleep now..”

“No, I haven’t found the right ring yet.”

“I’m not getting old iwa-chan! i’m getting younger by the minute.”

“It’s not like they won’t say no... right.”

“Hey! don’t make fun on me- when you meet the right one, you’ll know how i’ll feel.”

“Shh- go back to sleep baby, i’ll go to sleep in a minute.” (12:00 am)

*kisses you’re forehead*

extras:

“Hey honey, am i getting fat?”

“Look in the mirror, i see someone beautiful and then you- the second most beautiful.”

“Stop telling Shōyō that i like getting my blackheads popped!”

“Hey- schedule me a manicure will you?”

“Take a picture with me and shōyō and then send it to tobio-chan.”

“Wax my brows, and do it right this time!”

“Hey, do my makeup- why? Because i wanna look better than you.”

“Woah woah woah, who said you can take pictures of me.”

“Delete it, i look ugly- WHAT DO YOU MEAN THATS THE POINT! YOURE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME IM PRETTY”

*fiddles with your fingers in public*

*will propose to you when he wins against msby bc he just wants to publicly address that he’s the best and has the best*

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu manga #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu spoilers #timeskip haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #oikawa x you #oikawa torū #oikawa fluff #oikawa hc #oikawa imagine #oikawa #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #oikawa scenarios #hq oikawa #oikawa fic #iwaizumi hajime #anime / manga #anime #anime x you #anime x reader #seijoh #seijoh x reader #seijoh x manager #aobai josahi #timeskip oikawa

[bbugyu]

hi can i request a wonwoo friends to lovers!!

abso-fuckin-tutely! since you were a lil vague, i asked my friendly neighborhood wonwoorideul for a prompt and she shouted out the song nothing by bruno major (aka one of the sweetest songs on wonwoo's spotify playlist)!

nothing + jeon wonwoo

moving in with your best friend was the best idea you ever had, even if he claimed it was his.

wc.3707 | fluff, angst, roommates/friends to lovers au, gn reader, like one swear and it barely counts bc it was hoshi, slowburn pining, wonwoo sees you and his mind is full of poetry, happy ending! (jp ver.)

thank you so much for my very first request! i tried to post this quickly, so i’m sorry if it’s not as polished as my other pieces. i was so impatient to get this out hahah. i love me some domestic wonwoo

*

wonwoo wasn't just your roommate, to be perfectly frank. the lanky guy had wormed his way into your close circle when you had worked part time together at a grocery store fresh out of high school, and when you both decided you needed to be closer to the big city, it just made sense to go together. you had never lived alone before, and your mother had said she would feel better if you had someone she knew around, someone to take care of you for her, even though you insisted you would be fine. she tried to get you to move in with your auntie, and while eating her food would be a definite plus, you absolutely despised the idea of living under the same roof as your chaotic cousin. so, when wonwoo mentioned wanting to get out of your podunk village, you excitedly told him you wanted to move to seoul.

"okay," he had said, looking at you over his comic book as he lounged on your family's couch. "let's go, then."

two months later, his dad was helping the two of you move into a tiny two bedroom apartment in a neighborhood of seoul that housed mostly old married couples, but you liked that it was a little more quiet than downtown. it felt more like home, but busy enough to give you your fill of the city. you could walk down the street to a cafe every morning on your way to the station, headed to your shitty temp desk job that you had just to pay bills. wonwoo was able to transfer to the main seoul office of his existing job as a software engineer, and was even able to work from home most days. you were forever jealous that he could hop onto remote meetings wearing a tie and button up over a pair of sweats. on days that he had to go into the office, though, he would walk with you and point out shops that you had yet to visit in your few months of living in the city.

"since when are you a flowers kinda guy?" you asked, gaze following his finger to the florist shop he pointed out.

he shrugged, adjusting his backpack straps over the blazer he wore. "might be nice for the apartment."

you eyed him. despite knowing him for years, sometimes he still surprised you.

on days that he didn't ride the subway with you, you would come home to find him sitting on the couch, swinging around a digital new york city from a web on the tv. you noticed the potted plant on the kitchen counter when you dropped your keys off in their designated tray. they were red, with tight round petals. you thought they almost looked like roses, but you knew that wasn't right. peonies? begonias? you didn't know enough about flowers to recognize them, but you figured he went to the florist in your neighborhood while you were at work.

he paused his game after landing on a roof somewhere. "how was your day?"

"good," you said, pulling off your light jacket and standing by the couch. "what's with the flowers?"

wonwoo looked around you to the yellow ceramic and red blooms, both colors that suited the other few colorful items in your minimalistic (mostly from having only lived there a few short months) white kitchen. "camellias. i thought they looked nice."

you nodded, thinking that he had more to say, but decided not to press. "have you eaten?"

he stretched on the couch, hands falling to the back of his beanie clad head as he let out a strangled noise. "do i ever eat without you?"

that made you smile. "any thoughts on dinner?"

wonwoo shook his head, settling back into the couch. "what do you feel like?"

"i'm craving pizza."

wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and adjusted to fish his phone out of the pocket of his favorite track pants. "go take a shower, i'll order."

you grinned. "you are such a good roommate."

"correction, i'm the best roommate. oh, also," he pointed towards the fridge in the kitchen. "soonyoung came by with side dishes from your aunt."

"oh, thank god," you said, walking over to wash your hands quickly and check the haul. "i was worried we were gonna have to buy kimchi this week. he wasn't annoying, was he?"

wonwoo shook his head, chuckling at the way you talked about your cousin as he tapped through menus on his phone. "he was fine. complained that you weren't here."

"doesn't he have a job?" you opened a plastic container and popped a sweet braised potato into your mouth. your voice was muffled as you chewed. "he knows i get off at five. if he wants to see me he should come when he knows i'll be home."

the small smile on wonwoo's face never left as you rambled about soonyoung, then your fantastic chef of an aunt, and then the new guy that sat at the desk next to you that microwaved fish for lunch. seriously, who microwaves fish? in an office?

wonwoo commiserated with you, then told you to hurry and go wash up, because he had just submitted the pizza order, to which you responded "okay, okay, i'm going. i'll be back in a minute."

after a steam filled shower, you left the bathroom while toweling your damp hair, sporting a plain black v-neck with your, similar to wonwoo's, favorite track pants.

wonwoo looked up and laughed, tugging on the hem of his shirt. "we match."

you eyed one of the several black muscle tanks wonwoo sports regularly and giggled, pulling at the stripes down your pants. "we do. you want wine?"

"hell yeah. friday night, baby."

you laughed, returning to the bathroom to hang your towel before making your way to the kitchen, pulling a couple of stemless wine glasses out of your cabinet. they were the only glasses in the apartment because, as wonwoo had said, your priorities are notoriously bad. but, you reminded him, they worked just fine with water too, so you convinced him that buying real glasses could wait until you were both slightly less busy. you grabbed the bottle of red wine off the counter and looked at the seal. "wonwoo."

"yeah?" he paused his game and looked at you over the small kitchen cart that acted as an island. you held up the wine.

"new bottle."

he sighed dramatically. "what would you do without me?"

you grinned happily as you got the wine opener out of a drawer, holding it out for him. he snatched the bottle and opener from your hands and made a face, but began twisting the corkscrew into the cork nonetheless. you planted your elbow on the wood topped cart and watched him as he tugged out the cork, decidedly ignoring the fact that he was wearing a sleeveless shirt and he definitely looked like he had taken a trip to the gym today. 

"you pour, i always miss."

you laughed, pulling at the shrapnel of the seal that wonwoo always refused to cut away before removing the cork. "maybe if you didn't make the neck such a mess it wouldn't go everywhere when we pour it."

"unnecessary step," he retorted, watching you as you poured the wine into the two glasses. he took the one closest to him as you finished. "cheers."

"cheers," you repeated, clinking your glass against his and taking a gulp. you let out a noise of approval. "happy friday."

wonwoo was smiling as he took a sip. "happy friday."

"where's the pizza?"

"uh," he patted his empty pockets, then put down his wine glass to retrieve his phone from the couch. "down the street."

wonwoo had to shove his feet into a pair of slides to meet the delivery person at the entrance of your building, and when he returned, you were giggling into your glass at your sns feed. the wine hit maybe a little too hard, but you hadn't eaten in too long for you to have almost polished off a glass already.

wonwoo gestured for you to join him on the couch, so you grabbed the bottle of wine and tucked it under your arm, carrying the two glasses over to where he was shutting off his game.

you ate merrily, and then you talked. about nothing and everything all at the same time. this happened more often than you ever thought it would, but a week into living in the city, wonwoo had come home from hanging out with some old friends to you crying on the couch with a show on that was far too comical to be the source of your tears. that night, he stayed up with you until the sun was peeking up over the buildings, listening to your worries and struggles. he shared his own fears. you were a blubbering mess. he kept sniffling his nose, acting like the tears welling up in his eyes weren't there when you laughed, despite yourself. wonwoo and you had always been close, or as close as past coworkers that had the same friend circle could be, but this was different. you couldn't remember the last time you had cried like that in front of anyone, much less someone who wasn't your mother.

when you woke up on the couch past noon, your sunday to a late start, your arms were wrapped around wonwoo's torso as he slept, one hand tucked behind his head and the other on your back. his face was inches from yours. your cheeks were pink and you suddenly felt hot, trying as gently as you could to escape without waking him. he stirred, but only to readjust as you snuck away.

he said nothing about the cuddling when he woke to the sound of you closing the front door, and you smiled as you held out the iced americano you got him at the cafe down the street. he squinted at you and scratched his head, taking the drink and sipping it before even testing his voice.

"thanks."

he looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. "what? you bought coffee. thank you."

you sat next to him and swirling the straw in your own drink. "no, i mean for staying up with me. sorry i was a mess."

there was a pause, and your heart almost stopped when he put an arm over your shoulder. "you weren't. and i'll stay up with you whenever you want."

wonwoo sipped at his drink again, giving you a light squeeze when a tear fell down your cheek.

living together meant you saw a side of him you had never seen before. the little things he did throughout his day, when he wasn't even particularly conscious that you were in the same room as him. he always bit at his thumb when he was working, and he had a habit of leaving the milk carton open in the fridge. he always made you smile when he emerged from his room with his headphones loud enough for you to hear them from across the room, and he cluelessly bobbed his head to whatever he was listening to while he refilled a water bottle, waving and smiling before he returned to his room. when your mom asked you how living with wonwoo was, you told her he was great. clean, respectful, and quiet. that you had never been closer. that he made you feel safer so far from home. you didn't, however, tell her that you discovered that he liked running home from the gym at 2 pm on the weekends, laying out on the floor with his shirt over his head before he convinced himself to take a shower.

you had always thought wonwoo was cute. how could you not? he was a handsome guy, but you had accepted your place as a friend to him and happily let it progress no further. but, now that you spent your afternoons off arguing with him on whether or not showering was even worth the trouble, you couldn't help but stare at him. watching his toned chest rise and fall as you thought about how he had admitted his crippling fear of failure to you at three in the morning when your face was puffier than a padded jacket.

you never noticed, but wonwoo watched you closer than he did anything in his life. that night, when he found you crying, he felt his heart clench as you told him all your insecurities. when he had pulled you into his chest and held you tight as you questioned whether moving so far from home was a mistake, he patted your hair and told you that it was going to be fine. you had him, afterall. he had you. the two of you could make it out here. and if you still wanted to go home when the lease was up in six months, he would be there to help you move back.

he didn't stop holding you until your breathing settled, your shoulders stopped shaking. he leaned back into the couch, bringing you with him, and you didn't protest when he ran his hand up and down your back, coaxing you to sleep.

since then, every time you spoke to him, he couldn't help but stare at you intently. he watched your eyes light up while you talked about something you loved. he watched you scrunch your nose as you talked about your new desk neighbor. he watched your lips push into a pout when he said he should go get some work done. he wondered if anyone else noticed the way you sucked on your teeth while you thought up a witty comeback, or the way you carded your fingers through your still wet hair. or the way your eyes creased into a laugh, your hand coming up to block your open mouth. or the way you chewed on your red wine stained lip while he tried to form a sentence in response, when all he wanted to do was put those lips on his.

wonwoo had been stewing with these feelings far longer than he thought bearable, but stuffed it down in fear that he might lose you altogether. he didn't want to lose you altogether. he had gone on a walk halfway through his workday at home, feeling antsy for no particular reason, though if he thought about it long enough he would have realised it was because you had said something about feeling lonely lately that morning. he saw the florist he had pointed out the week before, and his feet brought him through the door.

"hi!" he looked up from the colorful display by the door to the person behind the counter and smiled politely. "did you need help finding something?"

"um," wonwoo blinked and looked around for a moment, then moved towards the counter. "i need a gift, i think."

the florist's eyebrows quirked curiously. "you think?"

he nodded, eyes flicking down to the nametag on his chest. he wondered if he was a foreigner with his three character name, but didn't mention it. "yeah. housewarming. for my, uh-" wonwoo paused, catching himself not knowing how to describe his relationship to you. roommate? wannabe lover? he bit his cheek. "my friend."

joshua nodded slowly, watching wonwoo's eyes as he worked his way through the sentence. "just friend?"

wonwoo stared at a flower arrangement to his right. "something like that."

"got it." joshua walked around the counter and gestured for wonwoo to follow him deeper into the store. "since it's a housewarming, how about a potted plant? something to brighten up the space for a long time. they'll think about you every time they see it."

wonwoo nodded, not saying anything about how funny he thought it was that he said he was getting his own roommate a housewarming gift. "that sounds nice."

"now, i'm not gonna claim to know you," the florist started, putting up his hands to exaggerate his words, they kept moving as he pushed and pulled pots, looking for one in particular. "you've said, like, maybe a full sentence to me, but those were some complex emotions when you called them a friend, so i'm gonna assume i know the situation. i think you should get camellias. specifically red ones."

wonwoo looked at the sunshine yellow pot in the soft featured man's hands. the petals of the flower were round and delicate, and he thought about how you said the color yellow made you happy. "why's that?"

"i think you should look up the meaning when you give them this," joshua said, and for some reason, wonwoo trusted him.

he came back to the apartment thinking about how he might have just gotten scammed into buying the potted flowers in his hands, only to find soonyoung about to hit the buzzer to call your unit, a far too large cooler bag sitting on the bench by the entrance of your building.

"is y/n around?" soonyoung asked, trailing behind wonwoo as they walked up the stairs, struggling slightly with the overpacked bag. "they didn't respond to my kakao."

"they're at work," he replied, flipping his keys over in his hands to find the one for your front door. "they'll be home around six."

"ah, shit," soonyoung laughed. "i always forget you guys have adult jobs. i would kill for a monday through friday."

wonwoo almost laughed, but left the smile on his face. "weekends are kind of overrated, anyways."

the shorter hoisted the bag of dishes onto the kitchen cart while wonwoo closed the door. "who're the flowers for?"

wonwoo stared at the pot in his arm as if it was the first time he had seen it. "oh, uh. just the place."

"for y/n?"

he looked at soonyoung, who had his chin in his palms, elbows planted on the counter as he smiled. he knew he was right when wonwoo didn't respond.

"i think they'll like them," he said, unzipping the top of the bag and starting to unload his mother's packaged dishes for his cousin. "they like the color yellow."

wonwoo just said "i know," before he opened the fridge and started rearranging things to fit the new food.

according to soonyoung, wonwoo was painfully obvious. when he had come by a couple weeks prior, you were arguing with him about some ridiculous childhood memory at your grandparents' home, and while soonyoung laughed, he noticed the smile on wonwoo's face when he watched you. he also noticed the way he instinctively put a hand on your back when you sighed about your newest temp gig, and soonyoung pulled on his ear as he looked at the ceiling, leaning against the kitchen cart much like he was today as he told wonwoo about how oblivious his cousin must be.

you pulled your knees to your chest as you sipped at your wine, the pizza box almost completely polished off by the two of you sitting on the floor in front of your couch. you stare at the pot of flowers.

"they're pretty," you said finally.

you too, wonwoo thought.

"camellias, right?" you turned back to him. "i like them."

i like you, wonwoo thought. "i went to that place down the street. the guy working was nice."

you nodded, sipping again. "any reason in particular?"

"i-" wonwoo paused, staring at his glass. he finished the last gulp in it and put it on the floor next to the pizza box. "you said something about being down recently," he said, folding his fingers together as he leaned back against the couch. "i wanted to get you something, i guess."

you watched his fingers as they pushed his glasses up his nose again, and your heart fluttered at the idea of wonwoo thinking about you when you weren't around. "really? that's so nice," you pouted, shoving his knee.

he laughed, pulling his knee onto the couch to face you. "the guy there - the florist, i guess? his name was joshua. he seemed to really know flowers." he knitted his brows together when he realized he was procrastinating on saying what he was nervous to. he put his arm on the back of the couch, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm before continuing. "he said i should look up what they mean when i give them to you. red ones, specifically."

you perked up, heart racing. "what they mean? they have meaning?"

"y-yeah, i guess so," wonwoo said, then cleared his throat. 

"hey google!" you looked over to where the device sat by your tv. "what to red camellias mean?"

wonwoo stared at your profile as you watched the device think before its automated voice piped up.

"camellia flowers are available in white, pink, and red, with each color having its own unique symbolism."

you looked over to him, excitedly putting your glass to your lips as the voice continued.

"pink camellias symbolize a longing for someone, and is given to people who are missed."

wonwoo swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting against his temple.

"red camellias symbolize love, passion, and a deep desire."

your eyes widened slightly as the device shut off, glass still to your lips and eyes still on wonwoo's. he stared back at you, and you wondered if he meant it. but he never claimed that he didn't feel those things for you.

before you could think, you clumsily put your glass on the floor and moved. you didn't stop moving until your lips were on wonwoo's, pushing him back into the arm of the couch as you practically crawled into his lap.

his hands found your hips and he helped you settle into him, your fingers tracing his jawline as it worked against yours. you sighed into his lips as his hand slid up under your shirt, placed gently on the small of your back. pulling you into him. when you paused for a moment, you thought about waking up to this exact same view, that day after you had cried all night. but this time, his other hand pulled your jaw back to kiss him again, and you happily complied.

#YAAAA #thank you so much for requesting i owe you my life #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #jeon wonwoo imagines #jeon wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst #yoonpancake #requested #i wrote dis #do i have a wonu tag yet #sure dont #wonton

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Finding Out

Summary: Reader visits The Empty to retrieve Cas and finds out who her parents were, one of which was right there with her all along.

TW/CW: Sam Winchester x Daughter!Reader. Angst (towards the end). “Orphaned” Reader taken in by the Winchesters. Mentions of Sam Winchester x Ruby.

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Could you do a Sam x daughter!reader where they found her as a baby but she was half demon so they took her in to try and be good and she grows up with them and stuff and then I’m season 15 instead of Cas going to the empty it’s her going (bc she’s half demon) where they find Ruby and Ruby admits to the reader that she’s her mother and Sams her father”

Word Count: 1,423

A/N: I feel like I should warn that I haven’t watched season 15 yet but I can still write her going to the empty bc I know what it is. I’ll try my best 😊 I hope it’s okay considering I didn’t really know what I was doing lol. I tried to make it somewhat fit into the timeline but it’s a little funky. Anyway, love to all!

Your POV

    Hi, I’m (Y/n). I was adopted into a pretty cool family when I was just a kid. I don’t remember much about it because I was only about three years old. I have an older brother named Jack Kline. He’s what they call a Nephilim which is a half human, half angel. Biologically, he’s the son of Lucifer but he always insists that his real dad is Castiel. Castiel is an angel. Then there’s Sam and Dean Winchester. They’re brothers but they act a lot like I think a mom and dad would to me. Sam is like my mom, he’s always helping me out with my studying, training, and making sure that I remember to eat. When I get in trouble, he’s the one giving me the stern mom look that I’ve seen Grandma Jody give him and Dean. Dean on the other hand usually acts like he’s upset but as soon as Sam turns his back, Dean is high fiving me for being hilarious or smart or whatever but telling me not to do it again because Sam didn’t like it. He also taught me a lot about working on cars because I help him fix Baby all the time. If we ever decide to drop the hunting life, which I doubt we will, I’d love for me and him to open a garage together.

    Anyway, enough about them. You probably would like to know a little more about me. Like I said, I was adopted when I was about three years old because someone left me on the doorstep of the motel that Sam and Dean were staying in then. I don’t remember who it was but I remember them telling me to wait there because the people inside would take care of me until my mommy came back to get me. I never knew where she went and because of it I grew up pretty quickly thinking that she just didn’t want a little child and would come back for a teenager, she didn’t. I became what most people would say is about sixteen or seventeen. I remember Jack doing the same thing after he was born. It surprised Sam, Dean, and Cas when I did it but they assumed it was because of who I am.  You’re probably thinking, okay so you’re a Nephilim, who are your parents? That’s just it. I don’t know who my parents are but I do know that I’m not half angel. I’m half demon. Cas realized that almost immediately. For a while, there was some debate about whether they would keep me but they finally decided that they would, but the search for my parents didn’t stop there.

    They called up an old friend who happens to be the King of Hell and asked him if he could tell who my parents were or at least the demon half of the pair but no such luck. So, as my powers started manifesting themselves, we started training. It took some time but I eventually became able to control them and sometimes I use them on hunts but not often as it attracts a lot of attention.  

    I’m dragged away from my walk down memory lane as I sense something shift around me. I open my eyes and look around but see nothing. Literally, it’s a giant void. I remember now. I came to The Empty to get Cas back. “You’re so much older than I expected. I bet you still have your dad’s eyes huh? Not exactly something you can get rid of,” I hear someone say behind me. Turning around, I am faced with a woman who looks almost exactly like me. She’s a small bit taller and has brown eyes instead of green like mine. She’s also wearing an outfit similar to mine. If it weren’t for the small subtle differences, I’d think that I’m looking in a mirror.

    “Who are you? You’re not like me from the future, are you?” I inquire.

    “That sense of humor sounds a lot like Dean’s,” she says laughing, “No, I’m not you from the future. How would you change your eye color to make that happen?”

    I tilt my head and think for a moment, she has a point. Before I can say anything else, another voice joins the conversation, with a hint of bitterness in their tone, “She’s your mother.” I recognize that voice instantly as Cas appears at my side.

    The woman in front of me smiles and looks at Cas, “Come on, Castiel. I was trying to break it to her gently,” she looks back at me, “I’m your mom. My name is Ruby.”

    I’m quiet for a moment as I process this new information, “So, if you’re my mom then you should know who my dad is right?”  

    Ruby shares a certain look with Cas that I recognize as a, “Do you want to tell her or should I?” look. Cas nods so Ruby looks back at me, “Sam is your dad.”  

    Before I can ask any more questions, a loud noise erupts from somewhere in the darkness and Cas grabs my arm, “We need to go. That’s it.”

    Ruby looks to me with a sad smile, “I love you, kiddo. Always remember that.” With that, she waves her arm and Cas and I are thrown aside. Suddenly, it's hard to tell if my eyes are open and I’m still somewhere in The Empty or my eyes are closed and I’m not. I hear someone calling my name and realize I need to open my eyes. As I do, the light is almost unbearable but squatting beside me are Sam, Dean, and Jack. I sit up and rub my eyes as I try to make sense of the information, I just learned moments before.

    I look up as someone starts gently rubbing my back. Jack is now sitting cross legged beside me and Dean is squatting down to our level but Sam and Cas are nowhere to be found. “You okay?” Dean asks quietly. Before I can answer, Sam and Cas reenter the room. I stand, as do Dean and Jack, and watch Sam carefully, wondering if Cas told him. Sam takes a deep breath before racing forward and wrapping me in a hug. I quickly return it.

    When we pull apart, Dean and Jack look very confused as Sam looks down at me with a smile and moves my hair out of my face, “I’ve had a hunch for a while that you were her daughter. There’s no denying that you look almost exactly like her but I had no idea that you’re mine too.”

    “Hang on, did I just hear you right?” Dean questions.

    Sam and I both turn to look at Dean as Cas answers, “(Y/n) is the daughter of Sam and Ruby.”

    Dean’s shocked expression is almost cartoon like as he opens and closes his mouth looking for a response like a fish looking for water. We all sit down around one of the tables in the library as Cas explains everything that Ruby told him prior to my arrival in The Empty. Apparently, after she and Sam spent their time together, she found out that she was pregnant. When she died, Crowley found me and left me for Sam and Dean to take care of because if he couldn’t just get rid of me and he had his hands too full to take care of me himself. Everyone seemed kind of shocked but processed it rather quickly. I on the other hand felt like I now had a gaping hole in my chest, like something was missing. I just found out that she’s my mom but I can’t ever see her again. I silently get up from the table and make my way to my room. Behind me, I hear Sam tell the others, “She probably needs some time alone. One of us can check on her in a little bit.” As I close my door behind me and flop down onto my bed, the hole in my chest begins to ache and tears break through the dam. I snuggle up to one of my pillows and not for the first time in my life, I wish I had my mom there to comfort me but it hurts even worse now that I have a face to put to the title. Soon, I manage to cry myself to sleep and drift off into dreams that are sure to sting when I wake up.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii​ @castiels-majestic-wings​

#sam winchester #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester x daughter!reader #sam winchester oneshot #sam winchester oneshots #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural imagines #supernatural oneshots #supernatural oneshot #spn ruby

[georgiasfm]

╰  ･ﾟ. * 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐘 ;

[ scarlett leithold, cis female, she/her ] have you seen GEORGIA CALLOWAY lately ? yeah, i heard they're TWENTY TWO years old and a REALITY TV STAR/PODCAST HOST now in charleston city. i mean, i don’t know if it’s their LEO vibes or that they’re -OBSTINATE and -CAPRICIOUS but also +GREGARIOUS and +EMPYREAN but they remind me of MIND GAMES by BANKS. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble around here. 

hey besties ! i’m ley , i’m 20 ( well .... i will be at midnight ) , i go by she / her pronouns , and i’m livin’ in the est timezone ! i unfortunately have a super busy weekend bc it’s my birthday , so i won’t be able to be around as much as i want to be. but i’m gonna do my best to as active as possible ! thankfully i wrote this intro ahead of time so for once it isn’t a complete disaster ( it’s still not good tho so don’t have high expectations ) anyways , here’s miss georgia calloway !! 

𝐈  . 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬  :

FULL NAME  :  georgia belle calloway .       AGE  :  twenty - two  .   DATE OF BIRTH  :  july 23rd . ASTROLOGY SIGNS  :  leo sun , aquarius moon , pisces ascendant .   GENDER  : cis woman  .   PRONOUNS  :  she / her / hers  .   SEXUALITY  :  bisexual .       MOTHER  :  diane calloway  :  former pageant  &  debutante queen turned stay at home mom / trophy wife .   FATHER  :  jack calloway  :  career politician  &  mayor of charleston .  SIBLINGS  :  georgia is the middle child of five kids . two older brothers , two younger sisters .  POSITIVE TRAITS  :  gregarious  ,  vehement  ,  alluring  , venturesome  ,  empyrean , altruistic  . NEGATIVE TRAITS  :  obstinate  ,  reticent  ,  flighty  ,  temerarious  ,  capricious  .   AESTHETICS  :  the patter of raindrops against glass windows , the lingering scent cigarettes mixed with sweet perfume , drinking honey whiskey out of red solo cups ,  watching constellations with exhausted eyes , sneaking out by means of the vine trellis , leaving texts unanswered for days , a box of pageant awards hidden away in the closet , secrets that weigh more than gold on cherry stained lips , bending every rule just enough to get away with it , wrinkled white satin dresses and knee high ruffled socks , one too many bottomless mimosas at brunch , hearts drawn on fogged glass mirrors , lollipop stained lips . CHARACTER INSPO  :  brooke davis ( one tree hill ) , sarah cameron ( obx ) , lux lisbon ( the virgin suicides ) , jackie burkhart ( that 70s show ) . 

click here for a quick trip to her pinterest bc it describes her better than i ever could !!

( tw ; infidelity , death , drunk driving )

𝐈𝐈 .  𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝  :

       from the second she was born , georgia was treated as her mother’s little doll. diane had been ecstatic the day she found out she was with child for the second time , and even more ecstatic to find out she would be having their first little girl. she was dressed up in pink dresses and frilly socks , shown off to all of the women country or her mother’s weekly book club nights. she was the apple of her parent’s eyes , until she wasn’t. with brunette tresses  &  honey brown eyes , georgia was adored by everyone .... her beauty noted with claims that she would grow up to be a heartbreaker. her mother thrived on the compliments ; the subtle reminders to what her own childhood had been like. she had always planned on having a little girl that she could do pageants with just like she had with her own mother , and darling little georgia was perfect for that. at such a young age , georgia fell in love with the pageants. she thrived in the spotlight , with all eyes on her. and just like her mother , she won every competion she was entered in , until she didn’t. by the age of nine , georgia was starting to grow bored of the constant pageants and recitals , wanting to explore other interests. by that point , diane’s interest in her had worn off and moved onto the next child , a five year old with beautiful blonde curls and dimpled cheeks. georgia grew to know the subtle ache of rejection , and from that day forward , did everything she could to win back her mother’s affection. 

      from the outside , the calloway’s came off as the picture perfect family. but from the inside ? things were quite the opposite. georgia’s parents had unmeetable expectations for their children. get perfect grades , nothing below a b acceptable. sit down , look pretty , and shut up. don’t cause a scandal. their love was entirely conditional , only being shown when their was something they believed deserved rewarding. if you were to ask georgia , she wouldn’t be able to tell you the last time her mother actually hugged her for genuine reasons , and not to manipulate her into doing what she wanted. their father was rarely home , always away working or traveling for work. it became obvious that he was having an affair –– multiple affairs , but diane just looked the other way. the calloway family was very prominent in charleston , especially with her father being elected mayor , and their was nothing that diane would allow to ruin their image. even if it cost her own happiness.

       things got considerably more difficult around the calloway home when georgia was sixteen. her eldest brother had gone out for a night of fun with a group of friends , and made the fatal mistake of getting into a car with someone who was far too drunk to drive. georgia will never forget the conversation she overheard from the living room that night ; “ they were drunk. lost control of the vehicle. died on impact. ” it tore the family apart , dividing them even more than they already were. georgia couldn’t stand the silence of her home after her brother’s death. so she started partying constantly , going on 48 hour benders and staying out long past her curfew. she couldn’t even recognize herself in the mirror. gone was their innocent little girl , the apple of their eyes. even this couldn’t get the attention of her parents , they barely even noticed she was gone most of the time ; all they did was yell at her to not make them look like fools. 

        for her whole life , georgia followed her parent’s rules. after graduating high school , she was expected required to go college and get a degree , but georgia just couldn’t be bothered. this is the one time she went against her parent’s wishes. her fear of being stuck here forever , with the same life as her parents ; a husband that doesn’t love her and miserable children , won out over the need for approval from her parents. so she ran off to la , and landed herself on love island usa after being approached by a producer. georgia is reality tv gold , and quickly became a fan favorite. her most memorable moment being after she got her heart broken on live tv , when she purposely held up a lighter to set off fire alarms ; and then laid on the ground getting drenched by the sprinklers. so now she’s single again after being made a fool of in front of the world , back home with parents that hate her for bringing them unwanted attention , and stuck in the city she tried to get away from. but , she’s got a podcast. it’s called the bimbo summit and it’s pretty much the only thing bringing her joy right now. it started as a way for her to expose some behind the scenes shit from love island , but now it’s just for fun. 

𝐈𝐈𝐈 .  𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲  :

georgia is the girl that’s not easy to forget. she’s outgoing and amiable , but stubborn and not easy to push over. she was the one that moms would warn their kids to stay away from in high school ; she leaves a trail of destruction wherever she goes , no matter how hard she tries not to. she has the purest of intentions , genuinely just wanting love  &  happiness for herself and everyone around her , but it seems like the universe has different plans. 

she almost has this air of melancholy surrounding her ? like even when she’s happy and smiling , you can still sense it or see in her eyes that she’s not truly happy 

very charismatic , she’s a major people pleaser so she’ll put everyone else’s feelings before her own . she just wants everyone to be happy even if it means she ends up being miserable . 

georgia’s a selective oversharer . she’ll tell you all these useless little facts so you think she’s opening up when in reality you don’t truly know her because she refuses to talk about the things that matter . 

she’s trusting once she gets to know someone , but if you break that trust even once she’s not very quick to forgive. she’ll hear you out , but it’s unlikely that she’ll ever let you back in. 

she is completely unhinged. somehow picks the worst possible decision every time a problem arises. she’s not much of a logical thinker , and tends to let her heart make decisions for her. it’s gotten her into a world of trouble one too many times , and yet she’s never learnt her lesson. 

she’s also a serial dater. in her pea brain attention = love so she’ll flock to wherever she gets that. she likes the validation of relationships but hates the commitment , so pretty much all of her relationships end before they ever really start. 

don’t ever tell georgia she can’t do something. she’s a stubborn bitch and she’ll either do it immediately just to spite you or dedicate her entire life to proving you wrong and that’s not something anyone needs to deal with.

very opinionated and not afraid to make sure you know !! she will stand up for what she’s believes in without even a second of hesitation.

she would not be caught dead looking unpresentable .... she’ll do her hair and a full face of make up even if she’s waking up at 4am. and don’t even bother to ask her to go out after she’s done her skin care routine .... there’s no chance 

doesn’t really know how to handle her emotions ? so when she’s hurt she tends to just .... shut down & push everyone away 

she is a hardcore adrenaline junkie , she does so much stupid shit just for the thrill. making spontaneous and impulsive decisions is her favorite pass time.  she just holds a lot of emotion in , so anything that will release all of that or make her feel anything other than the things she’s avoiding are very much welcomed.

#charleston:intro

[moral-turpitudes]

Letting Go:

Trigger Warnings: Um Angst...and some Mutual Pining? 

Word Count: 2,276

Characters: Michael Gray x Reader

+ Polly Gray, Gina Gray.

Request: “Okay so I just came up with the idea for Michael Gray x Reader, where Michael leaves for America and comes back with Gina, and the reader learns about it and is pissed with him cause he didn’t want to “get involved” but comes back with a wife...I don’t know the ending, it may be sad or happy :) Thank you love!”

Requested by: @msbzowy​

I apologize for it taking me so long, it’s been a crazy month or so lol. I actually really liked this bc it helped me get out my own feels about a much more less dramatic situation lol. Also I liked how your idea focused on this part in the show because Michael kinda really did that one girl dirty, leaving her to have her procedure done and then later turning around and having a kid w Gina...like lol the audacity. (I realize time had passed and he’s allowed to change throughout the shows timeline but it still rubbed me the wrong way a tiny bit cuz I felt bad for that girl he had a fling with. Lol don’t come for my neck plz guys).

Summary: Y/N has no more time for fuckboys.

You felt your breath hitch in your throat as you watched the ship depart, taking your heart with it. The steam rolling out the top as it loudly groaned to life and set sail for America. You sat there until it disappeared, accepting the fact you’d never see the one you loved again.

Michael had been sent off to America for “business” purposes, much to you and his mother Polly’s dismay. You had been close to him ever since he met you at the Garrison two years ago, slowly integrating you into his life and into Polly’s as well. He always tried to keep you from the peaky business that went on, but with you being stubborn, it led you to working as a secretary for the Shelby’s and joining Michael on business runs on occasion. Giving you both some quality time together, despite neither of you admitting your feelings. You were shocked at first as Polly had hired you after seeing how you interacted with everyone else, and so when they shipped him off right under your nose you were taken aback, and downright furious.

Furious at the fact that Tommy would send him away without as much as a phone call briefly explaining the details, and furious at Michael for saying “I’m doing this for the business Y/N. It’s not you, it’s just that I’m not wanting to get involved in anything right now. It’s better if I go at this alone now.”

He said this to you at the dock, you could see in his eyes that he didn’t mean that, like it was scripted from the devil himself and he was just following along. His eyes bore into yours and he left you with nothing but a light hug and a soft kiss on your forehead.

The ghost of his kiss lingered there until the stars appeared, hinting that it was best for you to go home, away from the eerie calmness of the shipping docks.

You had let your frustrations be known before you drove Michael to the dock earlier, yelling at Tommy in front of everyone in the shop before grabbing Michael’s hand and leading him out to the car.

As much as you wanted to walk in now and pick up your work where you left off, you took a long look at the shop and drove on back to your apartment, not bothering to let anyone know your plans for the work week.

When you awoke the next day, your head buzzed and your eyes were brimmed with red streaks as you’d cried yourself to sleep. Mad at yourself that you didn’t flat out tell him you loved him like you had meant to, and mad at him that he’d lie to your face, even after all you’ve seen each other through.

A year had passed and you’d bitterly kept your job as one of their head secretaries, staying mainly for the money it brought in. Avoiding Tommy when you could, and tolerating the others as they made their rounds throughout the shop each day. Polly knew how you’d felt early on, seeing how Michael would light up when you were around, and she’d always tell him after you’d leave their house that he’d better tell you how he felt before you found someone else, but neither of you expected the tables to turn like they did.

On a cold dreary night you walked down to the Garrison, deciding to warm up with a couple of drinks before heading home. Polly had joined you, seeing as you were the only one she consistently worked with and genuinely liked in the whole office.

“Maybe if I drink enough I’ll forget...you know? Just for one night I’d like to forget...” You said, nursing a glass of wine.

“I know dear. He’ll realize it eventually. I wish he would’ve taken my advice. You were good for him...you still are.” She said.

You smirked and looked down at the dark red drink, seeing your tired reflection in it.

As you stared around aimlessly, your attention was caught by a man in a top hat walking in with a short haired blonde woman, not much older than you. She had a on a silvery blue dress and a brown fur coat, and the man had a nice dress suit on, looking oddly familiar in the distance. As they walked towards the bar, your heart dropped as you recognized the man, snaking his arm around the woman’s waist as she ordered them both drinks at the bar.

Polly gently took your hand that was clenched into a fist, speaking sternly next to you.

“Y/N...I’m just as shocked as you are right now but this is not the time nor the place. Let me do the talking if they come over.” She said.

You just shook your head and quickly drank the rest of your wine, desperately hoping it was a dream-or more so a nightmare.

Michael walked over, his eyes going wide as he took in the sight of his mom and you at the bar, immediately locking eyes with Polly.

He knew he couldn’t escape his mom so he reluctantly brought the girl over, clearing his throat before saying hello.

“Hello mum, didn’t think you’d be here this late.” He said.

She looked at him and gave him a small smile, hugging her son for the first time in a year.

“Hello Michael....who’s this?” She asked as you turned away, pouring yourself more wine.

“Mum...this is...my wife Gina. Gina Gray...” He said looking at her and smiling, trying hard not to look in your direction.

“Oh how lovely... I guess the family invitations got lost in the mail...what a shame.” She said before gently giving Gina a quick, emotionless hug.

“We just wanted to get it over with. Being in love and all... You know how that is...It’s so nice to meet ya Mrs. Gray.” She said, her accent doing a number on your ear drums as she shook Pollys hand.

“I’m sorry if we disturbed you and...Y/N...?” Michael asked, pointing over to you as you turned around as if on cue. You took a deep breath before putting your glass down, glaring into him as you put on the best fake smile you could manage.

“Michael! Hello! It’s been too long.....” You began, feeling yourself lose your cool. Polly sighed as you continued, not letting Michael get a word in edgewise.

“You May think I’ve forgotten...but you and me both know you wanted to be together, but you just didn’t have the balls to say it. And to think I was going to tell you that day as well....right before you went on that ship......things really do work in mysterious ways...” You said shaking your head and looking at him with pity before inching closer to Gina.

“My name is Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. We go way back my dear. Welcome to the family...” You said before mouthing a goodbye to a frustrated Polly and giving her a tight hug before heading out, stopping a few feet away from Gina once again. “....oh and good luck sweetheart, this one’s a real piece of work.” You said pointing to Michael and winking before walking out the door, leaving it slamming against its frame behind you.

You ran quickly over to the shop, your heart racing as you went into the bathroom. You were a bit buzzed, but that didn’t stop you from ruminating over what just happened.

Tears stained your face as your tired eyes looked in the mirror, your cheeks heating up as the heat from the building warmed your numb face.

As you wiped your tears you heard the door open slightly, Ada walking in and eyeing you suspiciously. Everyone knew you and Michael had had a thing for each other until now unfortunately, and Tommy being the devil he is, thought you’d take him away from his business duties, but it couldn’t have been further from the truth. If only he’d let him stay, this would all be different. You’d be wearing a fur coat and a shimmering diamond on your finger right now, but instead you were drunkenly crying in the restroom of the shop that held so many memories.

“Hey....are you okay Y/N? What’s wrong?” Ada asked coming to sit with you on the cold tile floor. Besides Polly, she was the only other person you were friends with while working there.

“Why don’t ya see for yourself...? I’m sure he’ll call a meeting tomorrow to tell everyone all about it.” You said wiping your tears away and heading for the door.

“Who’s gonna call a meeting Y/N?” She asked concerned.

“Michael. He’s back. I’ll see you around Ada...I’ll try to write to you soon.” You said shortly, pulling her into a hug before leaving the shop for what you’d hoped would be the last time.

You felt the cool air on your cheeks as you got in your car and drove home. Your mind racing about what your next steps would be, your heart breaking with each second that passed while being in the same town as him. You wanted nothing more than to go somewhere not because your were forced to, like him, but because you wanted to. You spent so much time pining for a man who never had the balls to say three simple words. So when you got to your quaint apartment, you packed your bags, preparing to leave for London with all the money you had, ready to leave the past behind.

Back at the Garrison, Michael was left in an awkward position after you left, Gina shooting him a worried glance as she held onto his arm.

“Well that was rude of her...” Michael said and Gina nodded. Polly lit a cigarette as she turned towards him.

“Not entirely...” she said pulling him closer to her as she whispered.

“I’d advise you to talk to her, if she hasn’t left Small Heath already. But...you’re not one for taking advice my sweet boy...” Polly said, giving him a hug and flashing a fake smile towards Gina before heading back to the shop.

Low and behold the next day, Michael surprised everyone at the shop by calling everyone to a meeting, leaving the whole family shocked to say the least.

Tommy took one look at Gina and knew she’d be trouble, as he at least didn’t want to vomit every time he met eyes with you. To him you weren’t half bad, you just had a mean streak reserved for him ever since he had sent Michael away.

You had called him personally last night while he was home. Swallowing your pride and letting yourself and your qualms with him go.

“Hi it’s Y/N. I’m sorry this is late, but I’m calling to let you know that after some recent events and careful consideration, I’d...rather not be under your employment anymore Mr. Shelby. I’m grateful for your help and for your family all these years, but some things are meant to be left in the past, some people...actually...You’ll know what I’m talking about tomorrow. Goodnight Mr. Shelby.” You said quickly, before he could say anything.

You quickly packed the rest of your things, and went to bed. Mentally prepping yourself for waking up early to make the necessary housing arrangements and bank notices.

You awoke at 6am, racing with your car already packed, to discuss the selling of your apartment as you were planning on leaving the place as-is for whoever may need it next. They quickly found someone who had been in their list and you had the money in your pocket by noon. After that, you called Polly to meet you somewhere discreet.

“I can’t believe it Y/N. You’re really leaving?” She asked, handing you your last paycheck. Her nerves frazzled by this mornings meeting and last night’s incident.

“Yes. I’m not going to stay in a place where I’m not valued. It may be dramatic Poll, but I think this is the start I’ve been needing. I want to live for me. I want to be intentional with someone who intentionally loves me too, who’ll actually say how they feel even if it’s the last thing I hear from them...But just know I’ll write you and Ada and the others often. I’ll only be a little ways away over in London. I’m not going abroad anytime soon.” You said chuckling. She smiled and cupped your face in her hands, a tear falling from her eye as she spoke.

“I love you dear, so much. I’m sad to see you go....but I think this might be good for you, even though it hurts. But you do deserve so much better. I’m just sorry my son couldn’t be that person despite us all thinking he would be. But if there’s any solace from this, just know that we care about ya. We love you and you’re always welcome back, no matter what they say...just tell them Polly said so.” She said.

You wiped your tears from your eyes as she enveloped you in a hug, the smell of her perfume soothing you as you embraced these last moments with her for the near future.

After getting up and walking to the door, you focused on all that could await you in London, or who.

“Oh and Poll?” You asked stopping with your hand on the doorknob.

“If I ever have a wedding, you’ll definitely be invited. That’s a promise.” You said as she smiled at you, nodding as she watched you head off into the streets of Small Heath and toward your future.

Tag List:

(If you want to be added/removed just send me an ask!) :)

@inglourious-imagines, @caelys, @smallheathgangsters, @ta-ka-shi-ma

#katiesrequests #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders fics #katiesfics #katiesWIPlist #michael gray #michael gray x reader #Michael Gray x y/n #x reader #msbzowy

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Runaway Princess | One

Okay, okay, okay so I'm dropping this preview here because I have yet to decide if this is going to be a long fic or a chaptered fic but I have the first part down and I wanted to share it. It's a young Zemo x OC fic (lightly OC? His wife in the comics is named Heike and I took that name and ran with it so she's my own design but with a ripped off name LOL).

If I decide to post the rest on here it will be on my DIzzy After Dark page because I'm planning this to be an NSFW style fic (bc why the fuck not) but this opening bit is 110% friendly to all ages I just wanted to introduce Heike because I fucking love her.

This story goes with the Zemo moodboard I made months ago and finally just got around to polishing. Here is the like to that!

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Synopsis: Heike is a Ballerina and a Princess, but before that she is an object, one toyed with by her very mother. She is to be married to a man she's never met, whom she has yet to even see a picture of (though that's of her own design), and is on the verge of one of the biggest moments of her career: dancing on the Marinsky stage.

Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Heike Petrov (OC)

Warnings: Slight angst, eventual NSFW content that will be 18+ (not this part), fluff tho and lots of it, seriously this is all over the place

Word count: 2.2k

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The first drops of sunlight pour in through the arched windows, painting the glossy wooden floor in an array of sparkling pastels. They hit the paneled mirrors, bouncing off of the golden bar that runs the entire length of the studio, illuminating every surface in an ethereal glow. For just a moment— the tiniest fraction of time where there's no noise other than the slightest shuffle of silken slippers against mahogany and even, meticulous breaths— everything is perfect. Everything is calm.

Perhaps if Heike’s eyes were open she would admire the peace— the way her studio looks as though it’s been dipped in a bath of gold and oil paints. The way it’s just cool enough to keep the sheen of sweat from her limbs. The silence. Oh yes, she would certainly admire the silence. It’s all she’s ever longed for.

Her eyes are not open, though, and in her head her thoughts are excruciatingly loud— louder than they’ve been in ages. There’s no silence for her to admire behind the darkness of her eyelids. No gold, or oil, or peace. Nothing of the sort.

No, in her head she is on a stage. A loud, vast, practically thrumming stage.

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

That’s nothing new, though— that’s her life. Her life is on a stage and her life is a stage. She is always doing and someone— but more often someones— is— are— always watching. Being on the stage is not new.

What is new is the particular stage that she is on this morning. The Mariinsky Stage. The biggest grande allegro in all of Russia. It’s the stage she has been preparing to dance on for almost all of her life— for almost twenty-five excruciatingly long years. In just thirty-six hours she will be performing in front of the world’s most important people.

Kings and Queens.

Princes and Princesses.

Presidents and Prime Ministers and everyone in between who can afford a ticket.

So, her family— her entire family— somehow that’s worse than anyone else.

A soft voice cuts through her pondering but not quite through the dread.

“Mi’lady, it is seven.” Already? Heike could have sworn she just put her slippers on a few minutes ago. “I am afraid it is time we start dressing you. It’s a special day— the Queen has, erm, reminded me, shall we say, that you mustn’t be late to brunch this morning.”

The Princess sighs, the Mariinsky beginning to fade from behind her eyelids. Of course her mother’s been pestering her lady in waiting again. Would it truly be a normal day if she didn’t? It isn’t as if Katerina is the kindest, hardest working, most tolerant woman in the castle— no, that would be absurd. Surely if she was then her mother wouldn’t treat her with such scorn— as though she’s lower than the dirt the country stands on. Only a touch worse than she treats her own daughter.

Oh— wait.

Cracking an eye open, Heike drinks in the woman before her. Scarlet hair, pale skin, rosy cheeks, and a worn smile. Worn but there nonetheless. She opens the other eye, passing Katerina what she can only assume— nyet, hope— is the same. She has no idea how Katerina puts up with the Queen. She can barely do it and she’s the princess. Heike knows it’s for her, though, so she tries her best to be the opposite.

She lowers herself to the floor, stretching her hands out towards her toes. “Three hours to get ready? Surely that’s too much time to throw on a dress and some heels, Kat.”

Katerina rolls her eyes, tsking and shaking her head. “Shush miss— you know this morning is different.”

The princess giggles, tilting her head to the spot on the floor next to her. Katerina sighs but it is pointless— Heike is well accustomed to her pattern of feigning annoyance. When you’re around the same person day in and day out for nine years, you begin to pick up on their traits. Like how Kat rolls her eyes but the left side of her mouth still ticks up. It comes with the territory— it comes with being best friends.

That’s what they are, really. Best friends. Heike’s only friend, truly. She knows it’s odd to become friends with your lady in waiting— it’s not lost on her the implications of such a relationship and of her status— but Katerina has never felt like her servant. The idea of even having a servant has always felt terribly outdated, at least to her. Kat is her friend— her sister. Well, if sisters were paid to be your sister. She would like to believe that the reason Kat sticks around, though, is because she feels the same way.

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

Katerina slumps onto the floor next to her, rolling onto her back, her blue gown pooling in a graceful circle around her. Heike meets her eyes with another smile— this one much less coy. There is only so much that can keep the nerves at bay. Practicing her ballet was helping— a lot, actually— but now that she’s not moving— now that the dawn has broken into a more sinister form of daylight— all the raging thoughts have begun to simmer again. Now, it seems, they are boiling over.

“What do you think it’ll be like?” Her voice is quiet, just barely breaching a whisper, but in their little bubble of mahogany and glass it is louder than ever.

Katerina pushes herself up onto her elbow, her brows creasing together. They have been having the same conversation for weeks, ever since her mother told her the news. Heike can practically hear what she’s going to say before it’s out of her mouth.

“It or him?” Heike winces at Kat’s bluntness regardless— usually they skirt around the real topic for a few minutes, warming up to it.

She supposes they don’t have time for that today though. Not when he will be sitting in their conservatory in three hours. Maybe even less. Maybe he is even here now, waiting, speaking to her parents and bartering a deal for her hand— no. She takes a deep breath, beginning to untie her slippers if only to keep her shaking fingers occupied.

“Baron Helmut Zemo—” Heike tests his name on her tongue. It tastes familiar— that is probably because she has been repeating it for weeks now, though— “he sounds regal.”

“He is royalty,” Katerina reminds, the left side of her mouth quirking up. “Just the same as you, Mi’lady.”

Heike sighs. “Katerina, please— I’m a dancer. A ballerina. None of the formalities— they make me feel… strange.”

Being a princess would mean that she is the daughter of a king and a queen— it would mean she actually got recognized as anything more than a pair of pointe shoes.

She doesn’t add that, of course, only pulls said pointe shoes from her feet, letting her toes stretch and curl in the cool air of her studio. Not for long— only until her fingers begin trembling again and then she is starting on the sides of her leotard, pulling at the little silk ribbons. Soon, though, even that is interrupted, a pair of warm hands wrapping around hers and halting her attempts to hide her fidgeting.

“You’re stalling is what you are. Just as you have been all week. It isn’t healthy, Hei. Talk to me— you always talk to me.”

Heike lifts her eyes back to her friend, meeting her worried blue eyes and feeling her shoulders drop. “I’m sorry, I know. It’s just— I—” She doesn’t know what to say— part of the reason she hasn’t talked about it is because she’s at a complete and utter loss. “I am tired. I think. But so are you— more so than I. So I shouldn’t complain.”

Katerina rolls her eyes again, squeezing her hands. “Mi’lady I am exhausted. Truly I am. But at the end of the day I get to go to my bed and I get to sleep. Just like you do. We both sleep, yes?”

“Yes, but what—”

“It means we are the same— which means don’t say that. We are friends. You are tired. I am tired. I can be tired and listen at the same time, believe it or not.” Kat shakes her hands, bringing them up to her chest with Heike’s fingers still wrapped in her own. “I know it’s hard but we must talk about this. No excuses.”

Heike tries for another smile but it feels more like a grimace— like all the muscles in her face are rebelling. “How are you so kind to me?”

Katerina narrows her blue eyes until all Heike can see is black. “No excuses, Mi’lady.” She scrunches her nose, her face softening from it’s accusatory glare. “But— on that note— you’re much more lovely than you give yourself credit for, Hei. You’re easy to be kind to. So, again, stop making excuses because if you don’t then you will be unlovable. I will stop loving you.”

Heike laughs for a quick moment and then straightens— Kat is right. Kat is always right.

“I’m nervous,” Heike admits.

It’s harder to push the words out than she thought it would be. It’s like her throat squeezes extra hard when she says it, her teeth and tongue acting a barricade to the truth. The words do manage to shimmy through but they take all the energy she has with them and she sags. Her whole body rebels against the notion that she’s worried. Princesses aren’t supposed to worry.

“I don’t even know what this man looks like.” Heike continues, gently pulling her fingers from Katerina’s grasp, curling them around her bare arms and closing her eyes— It’s easier to think in the darkness. “I suppose I could look but there is no point, I’ve made it this far without. No matter what I do he will still be here soon. His appearance isn’t really the point anyway. That’s what I keep telling myself at least.”

Heike mutters the last part but she’s sure she hears it.

Only a few measly seconds pass before Kat’s voice cuts through the darkness, as patient yet as pressing as ever. “What is the point then, Hei?”

Her. The point is her. It is not about whether Heike likes him— it doesn’t matter if she does, her mother has her ways of getting what she wants. The Queen— her holder. Gods, this man could hate Heike— take one look at her and despise everything he sees— and her mother would still, somehow, find a way to have them married.

Heike snaps her eyes open— she draws the line at having to think about a wedding. Her wedding. To a man who will probably hate her. That’s the point— marriage. Status. Everlasting, lukewarm relationships for the sake of kingdoms that are more an idea than anything else.

Again, Heike doesn’t say that, at least not all of it.

“What if he does not like me?” She can’t force her voice past a dull whisper, her hands— now that they aren’t being held steady— once again trembling.

Katerina’s face softens immediately, her eyes losing the glimmer of humor she had somehow been maintaining. It was probably for Heike’s benefit. People are always trying to keep her happy, like it’s some sort of crucial task. Keep Heike happy or it’s off with your head. Her— the princess— the burden. She doesn’t want any heads, she can barely keep track of her own at any given moment.

Case in point.

Katerina holds her arms open wide and raises a scarlet brow. Heike doesn’t waste any time in rushing forward and piling her body into Kat’s. Burden or not, there’s no way she’s about to refuse the best hugger in the castle.

The lady in waiting squeezes her arms around the princess, her words soft against her temple. “That is impossible. Impossible. You worry much too much— you always have. He will love you, Heike. I know he will. It’s impossible not to love you, trust me I would know.”

Heike snuggles deeper into her friend’s arms, soaking in as much of her lemon and vanilla perfume as possible. It’s the only thing that’s ever screamed home to her. She has been many places— danced on many stages— but coming home never meant the castle walls. It never meant anything because Katerina was always right there next to her, holding her hand or flicking her ear or snoring until the very last minute when they are being rushed off the plane and Heike is doing more of the waiting than anyone. She has always had the privilege of bringing her home with her— her citrusy, red haired home.

But for how long will that be possible?

She doesn’t ask— It is for her and her only to bear. “But what if he doesn’t?”

Katerina pulls back, much to Heike’s dismay, her hand slipping under her chin and squeezing gently. “The we run, Mi’lady.”

Heike’s heart softens. “We?”

Kat rolls her eyes, the left side of her mouth halfway to her ear— Heike supposes she should have seen that coming. “You are not leaving me here alone, miss.”

Bozhe, pomogi yey.

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Translations:

Bozhe, pomogi yey — God help her

#helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo #helmut zemo x oc #baron zemo x oc #zemo x oc #royalty au #marvel #mcu #mcu fic #dizzy writes #The Runaway Princess

[alexander-turners]

Soulmates Through Time

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summary: Ben and Y/N are soulmates. They’ve been together ever since the beginning of time. In this fic we’ll take a glimpse of ther encounters and love for each other through different times.

Wordcount: 3 692 (my longest!)

Warnings: fluff, smut (wrap it before you tap it, guys!), humor, dick/cock jokes, mentions of attempted raping (if you’re not comfortable reading about it, just skip ‘Roman Empire’ part).

A/N: I had this idea from a long time, finally I decided to write it.

I didn’t put Ben and Y/N’s names in the past parts (in the fic they’re simply referred to as ‘he and she’) because people had different names in their previous lives but in the fic Ben and Y/N (aka you) still look the same.

I’m so sorry if there are any mistakes. English is not my first language. I hope you like it! Gif credit goes to owner/maker. This is my first ever Ben fic, please be patient with me.

264 BC

Athens, Greece

“I’ve been waiting for you. I–” his lips crashed over hers making her moan into his mouth.

She bit his lower lip; the man let out an animalistic groan and broke the kiss. “Fuck… I can’t wait to get married to you.”

She giggled, a tint of redness covered her cheeks, “You have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Ugh don’t remind me.” He whined, kissing her hands.

The woman saw how other people were looking at them, they didn’t approve the whole ‘kissing each other in public before getting married’ thing.

He sensed her discomfort, “Hey, what’s wrong?” she looked at his eyes then to the people who now were clearly discussing them. The blond man saw them too, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Where will we go?” the e/c eyed girl asked.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

She nodded, “I do.” He smiled before taking her hand and walking away from the crowd.

 175 AD

Saalburg, Roman Empire

“We’ve taken the city! Strengthen the fortifications! If anyone hurts any women and children will answer before me!” the general yelled. Some of the younger solders, who were around 16-17, shivered in fear. “Dismissed!”

The general walked inside his tent and looked at the plans on the table. After making sure he’s done everything he had to do he waved to the teenage boy who was waiting near the opening to clear the table.

The green eyed general sat on the chair, took a piece of parchment, a quill and some ink. He dipped his quill inside the ink and held it over the parchment, thinking and collecting his thoughts.

After deciding what he’s going to write he put his quill on the parchment but before he could write anything one soldier opened the curtain which was like an entrance.

“What now?” he asked, annoyance clouded his handsome features.

“General, there’s one soldier who is acting against your orders. He’s tried to rape the girl who was helping the wounded soldiers.”

The teenage soldiers once more shivered in fear when they saw the general passing them only a few feet distance. For someone who was so handsome, he was also terrifying and fearless in battle.

Some solders loved to joke that his parents were Venus and Mars.

“Where is he? Show me the soldier who is acting against my rules.” A few soldiers pointed to the man who was held down, one soldier was sitting over his back and had a knife in his hand, ready to kill the traitor, only waiting for his superior’s orders. The general looked at the traitor, he recognized him immediately, he was very problematic and wasn’t good with orders. “Take him to the city prison, I will deal with him tomorrow. Three men should guard him.”

His men nodded and walked off with the prisoner.

“Where is the girl?” one soldier pointed to the right. The girl was crouching, her dress was half ripped, and side of her right thigh was exposed. She tried to cover herself with her trembling hands. She was beautiful. Too beautiful and precious to be treated the way she was treated a few moments ago. But when the general saw her beautiful eyes covered in tears, he knew two things. First, he couldn’t leave her there, terrified and crying, he… he wanted to protect her. Second, he will kill that bastard himself.

The girl felt something being put over her shoulders. It was a cape, a roman cape. She looked up and saw a blond haired man; he gently helped her and wrapped one arm around her waist. She had no idea why she was letting this man to help her but she felt safe near him.

“What are you looking at?” the general growled, funnily the girl didn’t even flinch at his harsh tone.

He took her to his tent, she was still shaking. He helped her drink some water.

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, still scared.

The general smiled gently, “Nothing… and I won’t let anybody to hurt you.” she smiled too, sipping some more water. “Do you have a family?”

She shook her head, “My mother died while she was giving birth to me… I never knew my dad… I was raised by my aunt, she also passed away recently.”

“I’m sorry.” he said sincerely.

“It’s okay… I heard you… when you gave that order… about not hurting women and children. That’s why we decided to help the wounded…”

He held her hand in his calloused one, “I promise you as long as I’m around nobody will hurt you. Ever.”

She smiled, before asking. “What are you writing?” she’d seen the parchment and the quill on the table.

“Just a report back to the emperor.” he simply said before chucking at her expression.

“To Marcus Aurelius?” He nodded.

“Want to see?”

“I would love to.”

They talked about everything and nothing. Both feeling comfortable near each other, both cherishing the company.

It was nearly midnight when she uttered, “I should go.”

His heart fell, he didn’t want her to leave.

She didn’t want to leave either… her heart wanted to stay, her mind was screaming at her to leave him. He was a soldier, there wasn’t a place for her in his life.

But before she could reach the makeshift door, he grabbed her hand, not to harshly, and kissed her.

At first he was sure that she would reject him, push him away, slap him across the face but no, she did the quite opposite.

She kissed him back.

When they broke apart, the only sound inside the tent was their heavy breathing.

“Come with me to Rome?” he whispered without thinking, his brain has stopped working, everything slipping from his mouth in that moment was coming from his heart.

“What?” Was he serious?

“Come with me to Rome… please… I-I can’t leave you here.”

“Okay.” She simply answered.

 1504

Florence, Republic of Florence

“Thank you, Madonna. Thank you.” The poor lady continued to thank her for the few pennies the noblewoman has given her.

The noblewoman smiled kindly and continued walking through the busy Florence streets. She passed the market place and the Duomo. Her heart ached one more time as she remembered how the Pazzi’s killed her uncle and tried to kill her father right in front of her eyes, inside the beautiful cathedral... when she was only 3 years old. Her father miraculously had survived the assassination attempt.

Finally she reached her destination – Michelangelo’s work place. The door was open so she carefully stepped inside.

One young boy who was carrying some empty canvases smiled at her, “How can I help you Madonna?”

“I’m looking for Messer Michelangelo and Messer Rossi.” The boy’s eyes widened in shock. He’d recognized who she was. The daughter of Lorenzo de’ Medici. “Can you show me where they are?”

He licked his lips, clearly didn’t want to tell anything. “Madonna Medici–”

“Rossi. Madonna Rossi.” She corrected him.

“Madonna Rossi… I’m sorry but our teacher said not to be disturbed while he’s working on the sculpture.”

Sculpture? What?

She hummed, opening the money bag, she simply put two coins inside his palm, “I promise you, your teacher won’t know who helped me. Besides there’s an important message I have to deliver to my husband.”

The boy looked from left to right, making sure his other classmates weren’t looking at him. “Walk down this hall, the last door on the right.”

“Thank you.” she murmured and they parted ways.

The walk to the door was short; when she arrived in front of it she knocked twice and waited.

She heard Michelangelo’s voice getting closer to the door. A few seconds later the door has opened, “I’ve told you, I don’t want to be dis– Madonna Medici.”

The woman smiled kindly, “Good afternoon, Messer. I’m looking for my husband. Is he here?”

“Yes, yes, he is. Come in, Madonna.” Michelangelo stepped aside. The woman raised her arms.

“I don’t want to disturb,”

“Oh no, you’re not disturbing anything. Please, come in.”

Michelangelo closed the door behind her as she entered the room and pointed to the curtain which was dividing the room into two parts, “He’s on the other side of the curtain, Madonna.” He excused himself to ‘sharpen some pencils.’

The woman slowly walked to the drape and opened it. Her husband was there, his naked back was facing her. A towel was wrapped around his middle.

“Michelangelo, come on finish the drawings so I can go home.” he whined.

The woman stifled a laugh. Her husband was definitely tired from sitting in one place. He moved one hand through his messy blond hair and sighed loudly before getting up to check out the unfinished sculpture.

His wife gasped loudly when she saw the marble sculpture. It… It was beautiful… and naked!

The man turned around at the sound and smiled brightly at the sight of his wife there. He chuckled lightly as he approached her but her eyes were still fixed on the marble figure.

“It’s still not finished, my love.” he whispered, gently wrapping one arm around her waist.

“It’s… naked.” her cheeks burning, “And you’re also naked.”

“I’ve never thought that you’d be sad about me being naked.” her cheeks reddened even more, “I love making you blush.”

“Stop it.”

He laughed, kissing her cheek, “Is everything okay? Are the children okay?”

“Yes, they’re fine. The Pope’s ambassador has arrived.” she explained. “And he’s been asking for you.”

Color drained from his face, “Don’t tell me that he’s here.”

His wife laughed, “No, your mum is showing him the gardens.”

“Thank God! I’ll get ready now so we could leave.” He grabbed his undershirt and put it on. She approached him slowly and took the laces from his hands, binding them in front of his neck then adjusting his collar.

“Thankfully your undershirt is slightly longer so no one could see your dick.” He threw his head back laughing. “You couldn’t wait to drop the towel before putting your pants.”

“You know me, I can’t control myself around you.” he lowered his head to kiss her but she put her hand over his mouth stopping him.

“Why don’t you put on your pants before kissing me?”

He groaned but complied. As he was putting his pants on, he turned to her with a teasing smile, “Have anybody told you how much you are like your late father?”

“You have, your mother have,” he wrapped his arms around her waist, his green eyes shining with love. “And many others have.”

“Yes, I remember saying that you are so much like your father when we first met.” she hummed, “And look where it brought us. Married with three children.”

“Don’t remind me.” she joked.

“Can I have my kiss now?” she nodded and he kissed her, slow and sweet.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” they broke the kiss facing Michelangelo who was holding a few pencils in his right hand and covering his eyes with the other. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Her husband chuckled, “It’s okay Michelangelo.” Putting on the rest of his clothes.

“We should leave, the ambassador is waiting for us.” she said while he tied the ends of his cape.

Michelangelo bowed to her and shook the hand of the man, “I’ll send you a word when the sculpture is ready.”

The couple nodded and said their goodbyes to the sculptor. They left the work place hand in hand.

“You’ve got something to say, my love.” she gaped at him. He chuckled, “Why are you so shocked? I know you too well, just like you know me.”

“True.” she mumbled.

“Tell me,” They were almost next to the Duomo.

“Michelangelo uses you, no, your body for the sculpture, right?” he nodded, silently telling her to continue, “I must say dear husband… the sculpture’s cock got nothing on yours.”

His cheeks turned bright red as he laughed. Some of the Florentine citizens turned to look at them but they didn’t care at all. The man pulled his wife close to himself and kissed her red lips.

“I love your humor” he gave her a chaste kiss, “And I love you.” he whispered one last time before kissing her again.

 1796

Chevening House, Kent, England

The woman smiled as he felt his husband’s fingers caressing her hip. His hand slowly moved to her exposed stomach and from there to her breasts, he shamelessly groped the left one.

“What are you doing?” she asked with a small smile dancing on her lips.

He shrugged, playing dumb, “Nothing.”

“This doesn’t look like you’re doing nothing.” she pointed where his hand was still caressing her left breast and now the nipples were hard, turned on.

“Well, your boobs have a different opinion,” he pecked her lips, “they seem to enjoy it.”

“Oh, shut up,” she pulled his naked body for her equally naked one.

The man chuckled as she wrapped her hips around his waist, “Again? You’re insatiable, my love.”

She slipped her hand between their bodies, sliding his rock hard cock in her pussy. Her husband hissed at the feeling, falling down on his arms, “You’re still wet.” His breathless voice sent shivers down her spine. Her pussy clenched unintentionally. “Oh, God!”

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, running her hand through his blond locks, he twirled one lock of her h/c hair around his index finger.

“It’s okay.” It was her turn to gasp loudly as he slowly trusted into her. He chuckled, leaning down to kiss her swollen (from all the kissing) lips.

They were so into one another they didn’t hear the door opening, but they heard the gasp and the servant apologizing, “I’m so sorry Your Graces.” And the door slammed shut.

His wife turned bright red, hands covering her heated face. The husband was chuckling but later he would give hell to that servant. “Did he just walk on us?”

“I think he did.” he simply said, removing her hands from her face.

“I’m embarrassed!” he laughed again, nuzzling his nose against her ear.

“Don’t be.” she jolted when he trusted hard, hitting the sweet spot inside her, “You should be embarrassed only if you don’t scream my name when we are having sex.”

And she did scream his name.

 1918

London, UK

THE GREAT WAR IS OVER

Her hands trembled with emotions as she read the article over and over again. The Great War is over. Finally her husband will return home. She left the newspaper on the table and looked back at her daughter. The little girl was a carbon copy of her father.

The woman wiped her tears before kneeling down next to the blonde girl.

“Your father soon will be home, sweetie.” the little girl had a sad smile on her face.

“Will he love me?” she asked, turning her attention to the doll in her hands.

“Of course he will love you!” her mother kissed little girl’s forehead, “He can’t wait to meet you. I know it.”

The girl nodded, her pigtails jumping up and down, “Can we play together?” she asked.

Her mother nodded, “Yes, we can.”

***

Today was the day. Her husband will return from the battlefield. It’s been four years since he’s been away. He’s missed the birth of his daughter and her first three years, but everything will end now.

Paddington station was packed with people waiting for their loved ones. A h/c haired woman and her blonde daughter were part of the crowd.

“Mommy, can you see daddy?” the little girl in her mother’s arms asked.

“No, I can’t sweetie.” The mother answered sadly. Eyes still searching for her loved one.

Finally she saw a blond head similar to her daughter’s. He was still wearing his military outfit. They saw each other. The woman let out a sob and started running towards him, her daughter still in her arms.

Green eyed man put down his travel bag on the ground and hugged his wife and child. Ella, his daughter was looking at him curiously.

“Shh, don’t cry, love. I’m here.” he whispered, kissing his wife’s forehead, “I’m here.”

The woman wiped her tears, turning to her daughter, “Els? Do you want your daddy to hold you?”

The little girl nodded, extending her arms towards the blond man. He took her into his strong arms. “Hey, sweetheart… I’m your daddy.”

“I’m Ella.” she said shyly.

“Nice to finally meet you, Ella.” he kissed her cheek. Ella wrapped her tiny arms around his neck. “Let’s go home.” he muttered holding his wife’s hand.

 2019

Florence, Italy

Ben stifled a laugh when you snapped another picture of David, the famous sculpture of Michelangelo. His face turned red with laughter as you zoomed the picture, looking intently into the screen of your phone.

“Ben, call me crazy but I swear to God he looks kinda like you.” you murmured, receiving a snort from him.

“Do you mean his face or other body parts?” Ben joked.

You showed his arm laughing, “I mean his abs, Ben. The abs.” Ben laughed again when you gestured towards the sculpture’s abs. “But I must say the sculpture’s cock got nothing on yours.”

Ben threw his head back laughing like crazy, his cheeks tickled pink. He pulled you closer before saying, “I love your humor. And I love you.” You kissed back as soon as his lips touched yours.

“Oh, my eyes.” Joe whined, covering his eyes after coming back where Ben and you were. “Too much PDA, guys.”

“Come on, man. It’s nothing like you walked on us doing it a week ago in Rome.” Ben joked.

“Don’t remind me!” you hid your blushing face in Ben’s neck as you remembered the encounter.

“You’re insatiable.” Ben said breathlessly, thrusting harder into you.

You let out a moan, which would make the greatest pornstar blush. “B-Ben.”

“Fuck, Y/N!” the green eyed actor groaned before kissing you sloppily.

After breaking the kiss Ben lifted your right leg above his shoulder while his other hand was holding your hip. In this way he was hitting deeper inside you.

Neither of you heard the door opening. It was too late Joe has seen everything before yelling, “Put a goddamn sock on the handle!”

Both of your eyes widened, Ben’s hips stilled. You and your boyfriend were breathing heavily, looking at each other, “Did he just walk on us?”

“I think he did.” Ben confirmed, lowering your leg, leaning down so your chests were touching.

He chuckled as you covered your face, “I’m embarrassed… how am I going to look at Joe’s face?”

“Hey, there’s nothing you should be embarrassed about.” Ben said sweetly, removing your hands from your face. “You should be embarrassed only when you don’t scream my name when we are having sex.”

“Mmm, I always scream your name.” your pussy clenched around his hard cock. Ben moaned at the feeling, he leaned down kissing you hungrily.

“Then I heard Y/N screaming your name like a pornstar.” Joe continued, your face was redder than a tomato.

“Okay, mate, just let it go.” Ben mumbled. You both knew your American friend needed to get laid as soon as possible, because he was getting bitchier with every single day. Joe raised his hands in surrender.

After checking out the Uffizi Gallery you three met with Rami and Lucy (they’ve decided to check out another museum in the city). Joe at some point blurted out, “Let’s go to a bar.”

You all agreed and went to the closest bar to the museum.

The bar wasn’t too crowded, it has live music too. After one drink you all loosened and around 9 pm Joe literally left the bar hand in hand with a beautiful Italian woman, “Am I hallucinating or Joe’s left the bar with a woman.” Rami said, blinking like was trying to adjust his eyes to the sunlight.

“You’re not dreaming Rami.” You answered, gaining a nod from Lucy.

“Dude’s finally going to get laid.” Ben sipped his cocktail smirking.

“Thank God!” Rami jokingly said, “He’s been pain in the ass, lately. The girl better help him release the built up tension.”

You all laughed, then Lucy asked you to accompany her to the loo. You chatted while reapplying your lipsticks.

When you returned to your booth, Ben was wearing his leather jacket, “Are we going somewhere?”

The blond man hurriedly made you wear your leather jacket, “I just remembered that I might have forgotten to lock the house door.”

“What?” you and Lucy uttered at the same time.

“We must return,” Ben said but there was something in his eyes.

“Okay.” you hugged both Lucy and Rami and left the bar hand in hand with Ben.

“I can’t believe you forgot to lock the house door, Ben.”

He chuckled under his breath as you were walking down the unknown street. “I didn’t forgot to lock it,” you gaped, Ben laughed wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “I just needed to leave the bar.”

“I can’t believe you lied to our friends,”

“Relax, Rami knew about it. He also wanted to stay alone with Luce.”

You gasped loudly, “Did you both plan this?”

Ben scratched back of his neck, “Kinda.”

“Oh My God!” he laughed loudly next to you, “Wait until Lucy finds about this plan of yours.”

“Oh trust me, love. She will be so happy after tonight.” He simply said.

“Is he going to propose?”

Ben’s eyes widened, “How do you know.”

You shrugged, “I just guessed,” he hummed. “I can’t believe we are together in Florence. In Italy…”

Ben kissed your hair, “I know, it’s magical.”

“When you said ‘Come with me to Rome’ I thought you were joking.” you murmured.

Ben stopped walking and pulled you to himself, “I couldn’t leave you all alone in London.”

You kissed his lips sweetly, before asking. “So, where are we going?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked cheekily.

You nodded, “I do.”

Ben took your hand in his large one before walking away from the small crowd near the bar.

#ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine

[nmnostalgiadrabbles]

Then and Now - Iwaoi

soooo put all three together bc that’s what I should’ve done in the first place lol

 The story of Oikawa and Iwaizumi, over the years.

 -

 They’ve kissed more than their teammates might think.

The first time, they were twelve, on one of their days off from practice in the summer and they’d spent all morning searching for caterpillars. They come in for watermelon and a break from the sun and humidity, that, once they’re upstairs reading Iwaizumi’s comic books splayed out on the floor, turns into a nap. A half hour later, they wake, and Godzilla resumes defending Japan from another kaiju terrorizing the earth on glossy pages beneath sticky fingers. They talk a little as they read, about caterpillars and the upcoming school year, volleyball and what Iwaizumi’s mom is making for dinner.

“What do you think kissing is like?” Oikawa says, stretched out on his back with his hands folded on his stomach. He’s counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars on Iwaizumi’s ceiling. “Makki and Hanna got married on the playground the other day and got in trouble for kissing.”

Iwaizumi grunts, uninterested really, but a couple moments pass and he decides he’d like to know too. After all, he and Oikawa compete in just about everything else; he can’t lose here either, even if he is feeling kind of chicken. So he sits up cross legged, and Oikawa follows, and they don’t say a lot, but before they lean in, Oikawa asks, “Should we close our eyes?”

Iwaizumi hasn’t a clue but he says he thinks so.

And it’s exactly what an experimental kiss between twelve-year old best friends should be: scrunched up faces and pursed lips that meet only for a second before they pull away and look at each other again.

Iwaizumi grunts again, shrugging a shoulder, and Oikawa agrees.

“Yeah, don’t really get what all the fuss was about.”

 The second time, they’re fifteen, and its after Oikawa’s knee starts hurting during practice. Aside from sets that aren’t up to Oikawa’s own standard – but still entirely hittable, Iwaizumi thinks – Iwaizumi knows his partner well-enough to see that something isn’t right. He doesn’t mention it during practice, and neither do the coaches; they probably think he’s just having an off day. He’d been kind of tightly wound since Kageyama had taken his place in that match, after all.

They walk home together, where usually Oikawa is skipping about in front of him, going on about his latest girlfriend, but today, he lags behind in strange silence.

Iwaizumi turns to face him and goes for normalcy. “Shittykawa, spit it out.”

Oikawa looks up. Iwaizumi wants to see his face twist into that all-too-familiar shit-eating grin. Instead, he notices Oikawa looks pale. He’s leaning to one side – weight on one foot – and says, in a voice Iwaizumi has never heard before, “It hurts, Iwa-chan,”

They make it home to Iwaizumi’s, because Oikawa’s parents are out of town and he’s staying over, and Iwaizumi helps him up the stairs and onto his bed, leaving him for a moment to retrieve an ice pack from the refrigerator downstairs. He offers ibuprofen too, but Oikawa says he needs to be able to feel it.

“What? Why?”

Oikawa mumbles out an answer that Iwaizumi doesn’t like: that he needs it to hurt to remind him to try harder.

“Don’t be a dumbass. Your play is already suffering; if you continue like this, it’ll get worse and then Kageyama will take your place for good.”

Oikawa flinches and looks away from Iwaizumi, who’s kneeling at his legs and holding the ice pack in place.

“I want you setting for me, not him.” Then he stands and chastely kisses the top of Oikawa’s head, hair unreasonably soft, in one quick motion.  

“Iwa-chan, if you wanted to kiss me you could have just said so,”

Iwaizumi slaps the back of his head and stomps downstairs to start dinner.

 The third time, they’re seventeen, cicadas call loudly, and they’ve come back from a run. They’ve just had lunch, and Iwaizumi tastes like peanut butter and Oikawa like a popsicle.

“‘Blue’ isn’t even a flavor, it’s a color,” he says, and Oikawa sticks his purple tongue out. Iwaizumi makes a face, but Oikawa’s put a hand behind his head and leisurely, like he’d done it as often as he’d served a volleyball, kisses Iwaizumi. It isn’t like when they were twelve.

Oikawa pulls back, triumphant, saying, “See, there is flavor.”

 The fourth time, they’re eighteen, getting ready for bed early because they’ve a match in the morning, brushing their teeth in Oikawa’s bathroom, play-fighting with elbows until Oikawa swallows some toothpaste and hacks over the sink while Iwaizumi, already rinsed clean, cackles behind him till his stomach hurts. Oikawa catches his breath and rinses eventually, and turns to Iwaizumi, who recognizes the danger immediately. He intends to flee from the bathroom, but Oikawa, long-limbed and oddly flexible, manages the get the door shut. Iwaizumi does his best to look intimidating, but Oikawa smiles confidently and ghosts his hands over Iwaizumi’s ribs. Involuntarily, Iwaizumi shudders as Oikawa says, “Please, Iwa-chan. In close quarters like this, you don’t stand a chance. I know your weakness.”

Iwaizumi swallows, mouth parted in a nervous, have mercy smile, but Oikawa will have none of it. The same fingers that deliver the only sets Iwaizumi could ever ask for tickle his sides till he wheezes and tears form. He breaks mostly free and reaches for the doorknob, but Oikawa seizes the opening and then Iwaizumi’s back to laughing and trying desperately to grab hold of Oikawa’s hands while still defending himself. A few misfires, but eventually he gets one and holds it behind Oikawa’s back and the edge of the vanity while he nabs the other wrist and takes them both his is calloused hand. He presses forward with his whole body, still breathing heavy, but finally, finally he can relax.

Oikawa smirks. “I could get free if I wanted to.”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “No you couldn’t.”

Oikawa’s smirk remains, and entirely too confidently for someone with his arms pinned behind him, he leans forward and looks Iwaizumi directly in the eyes as he kisses him. It’s brief, so he can pull back and raise his hands and wiggle his fingers.

“Told ya,” he says, and Iwaizumi expects him to cross his arms over his chest and continue gloating, but he doesn’t. Well, he still gloats, but he puts his hands on Iwaizumi’s sides again, and Iwaizumi sucks in a breath.

“I like them here better. Don’t you?”

Iwaizumi swallows. Looks at Oikawa, all smiles and lidded eyes, and decides this time will be different.

So he pushes forward and they kiss there, in the warm light of the half-bath off the corner of Iwaizumi’s room, with open mouths and think they’ve finally understood what all the fuss is about. Iwaizumi half-wonders if maybe Oikawa understood a while ago, because he moves himself and directs Iwaizumi with a confidence Iwaizumi doesn’t have yet. At some point though, they separate, and Iwaizumi is pleased to find Oikawa’s face – and mouth – as red as his feels.

They hear the front door close and Iwaizumi’s mom call out. Iwaizumi wavers, but Oikawa grabs his face and kisses him hard, and a moment later darts out the door, down the stairs and in into, Iwaizumi suspects, the kitchen, where he’ll be hiding behind Iwaizumi’s own mother. Iwaizumi clambers after him.

 The fifth time, they’re still eighteen, but they’ve just lost to Karasuno. Oikawa knows it isn’t the end for him, but it’s bitter, because it’s the end for him and Iwaizumi.

He’s glad when Iwaizumi turns up at the Shiratorizawa-Karasuno showdown. He’d been afraid to reach out and meet up formally because what if it hurt? He didn’t feel like crying anymore; he’d done enough of that. And it does hurt, them analyzing the match together. Hearing Iwaizumi call him an asshole and laughing because he knows it’s true. Toward the end, Oikawa, unsure, says, “I was imagining it was us out there.”

“Me too.”

They get coffee. Iwaizumi remarks about how little crème Oikawa gets in his.

“I’ve got to start taking care of myself,” Oikawa replies, and Iwaizumi reads between the lines.

“Come back to my place. I’ll make dinner.”

“‘Your place?’ You still live with your parents, Iwa-chan,”

Iwaizumi huffs. “They’re out. We’ll have to stop at the grocery first. Guess I oughtta teach you how to do that too, huh.”

Oikawa smiles, but when Iwaizumi turns and heads out the café door, it slips.

He wants to enjoy these last moments together, so he laughs and teases Iwaizumi like he should, but it’s hard, so after dinner when Iwaizumi puts a movie on, Oikawa excuses himself to the bathroom upstairs, sees the toothpaste on the counter, and cries. He’s in the there entirely too long and knows Iwaizumi is probably getting suspicious, but he’s still surprised when he opens the door to find Iwaizumi flipping through an old comic book on his bed.

Oikawa sniffs.

Iwaizumi pats the space next to him.

Oikawa curls beside him with his head on Iwaizumi’s stomach and tries to breathe without shaking. Iwaizumi puts the comic book down. They’d done this before. Oikawa had cried in front of Iwaizumi more times that he’d cried alone, though he can’t help but think that will be changing. Universities across the world from each other – how could they ever hope to close that distance?

“I know you’re thinking.”

“Iwa-chan had a thought?” Oikawa hides his face in Iwaizumi’s sweatshirt.

“I’m trying to be genuine here, asshole.”

Oikawa has a decision to make – allow Iwaizumi to start this conversation, the one he wants to pretend won’t happen if he avoids it, or try to enjoy one of their last nights together. He isn’t sure he can do either.

He feels a hand in his hair, soft and warm, and though he knows Iwaizumi is offering comfort, Oikawa needs to take more. So he sits up, sets his glasses on Iwaizumi’s bed-side table, and moves to straddle his best friend’s waist.

Iwaizumi is taken aback. He’s perceptive, but Oikawa can be a mystery if he really wants to be, and now, Iwaizumi notes, is one of those times. He waits. Watches Oikawa’s chest rise and fall.

Oikawa puts his hands on Iwaizumi’s chest. He can do this. He wants to do this. He has to do this. There likely won’t be another chance. With worry and separation in the back of his mind, he leans down and kisses Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi kisses him back, moves his hands to either side of Oikawa’s waist, above the hips but below the ribs, which is an incredible relief; Oikawa had half-expected Iwaizumi to say no, we shouldn’t, not like this, or worse, just no, because he didn’t want Oikawa the way Oikawa wanted him. That just because they’d kissed a couple times didn’t mean he’d mourn him from how-ever many thousand miles away. How could Oikawa blame him? They weren’t even twenty, and Iwaizumi was going to move on from volleyball. He was going to study sports medicine in college, but that wasn’t a team sport; Oikawa couldn’t be a part of that world, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe that was what Iwaizumi wanted.

Oikawa feels sick at the thought, and decides that at least for this moment and the few that would follow, he would be something Iwaizumi wanted.

Oikawa kisses him in what he thinks is the sexiest way possible. Tongue, but not too much, just enough to tease, because that about sums up his entire personality, doesn’t it? If Iwaizumi could read his thoughts he would have said no, you’re entirely too much, all the time.

Oikawa holds back tears.

He presses his hips down and wills himself to feel something that doesn’t hurt. He trails wet kisses from Iwaizumi’s mouth to his jaw to his neck – the kind that leaves bruises – and Iwaizumi, who is breathing faster than normal, whose hands roam from Oikawa’s sides to his shoulder blades to his hair, makes a noise Oikawa hasn’t heard before. Oikawa’s chest tightens.

It stops when Oikawa pauses opens his eyes because he stupidly, stupidly wanted to see what Iwaizumi, what Haijime looked like beneath him. It’s everything he’s hoped for – flushed down to his neck, red, shiny lips parted perfectly for his own, eyes shut almost tightly, almost like it was too much and Oikawa would cement this moment, this Haijime in the back of his mind for the rest of his life – but Iwaizumi opens his eyes, why Oikawa didn’t know, and for a reason Oikawa is frustrated he can’t overcome, Iwaizumi blinks and it’s too late, it’s over Oikawa recognizes; Iwaizumi has been snapped from the moment Oikawa had tried so desperately to create, and all the ones he’d hoped would come after.

“Oikawa,”

How could he live without hearing Iwaizumi say his name like that ever again? Say his name at all?

“Oikawa, what’s wrong?”

So it had been his fault after all. He’s given himself away, but isn’t sure how until Iwaizumi brings a hand to his cheek and Oikawa feels him thumb wetness away.

Iwaizumi sits up as best he can, pillows at his back, and looks at Oikawa with the furrowed brow Oikawa had loved from the moment Iwaizumi’s face had first scrunched up when they were five and Iwaizumi had stepped in water with his sock feet.

Oikawa hunches down with his fists in the fabric of Iwaizumi’s sweatshirts and doesn’t care that he sounds like a child.

“It hurts, Iwa-chan,”

Iwaizumi puts his arms around Oikawa’s shaking shoulders.

“I know,” he says. Oikawa raises abruptly; had he heard that right? The tremor in Iwaizumi’s voice?

He finds Iwaizumi is crying too.

“I said I knew what you were thinking, didn’t I?”

Oikawa can’t help it – he laughs. They both spend a moment wiping their faces and sniffing, and then Oikawa says what he’s always felt.

“I love you,”

He’s never imagined how Iwaizumi would react to hearing those words from him because he’s never imagined himself really and actually saying them.

But maybe Iwaizumi has, because he says without hesitation, “I love you too.”

And even though not all of the pain is gone, enough is that Oikawa can grin again, honestly, and says, “Iwa-chan that’s so embarrassing!”

Maybe Iwaizumi hadn’t thought that far ahead, because he balks for a moment, but only a moment since this is Shittykawa after all, and launches himself into Oikawa’s torso so convincingly they tumble off his bed and this time, Iwaizumi makes sure he comes out on top so he can mercilessly dole out payback for that time in the bathroom. Oikawa writhes and shrieks beneath him with smiles Iwaizumi catalogues for when they can’t torcher each other like this every night. Because Iwaizumi is so pleased with himself, he takes Oikawa’s wrists in one hand and pins them above his head, further pleased at the blush that spreads across Oikawa’s cheeks and ears. He basks in his victory and tries his hand at the patented Oikawa smirk.

“You can’t kiss me now,” he says.

Oikawa goes still beneath him, surprise evident.

“Guess you’ll just have to let me do that part.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow, but he grins and licks his lips.

 .

They don’t actually talk about who won or lost. There’s a jab and a comeback and then they just laugh. They separate to celebrate with their own teams, out for dinner, but Iwaizumi tells Oikawa to come by his room later.

Oikawa makes likes he’s offended, going as far as to summon a faux blush and says, “Aren’t you supposed to take me out first?”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and says, “I want to check out your knee. I know you’ve got your own trainer, but a second opinion never hurt anyone.”

Oikawa leans close, and Iwaizumi breathes once, twice, his sweat and deodorant and the way he’s smelled since they were kids. Feels the hand hot on his shoulder.

“But what if I want it to?”

But then he pulls back and he’s just one big shit-eating grin.

Iwaizumi laughs. “I don’t know why I thought you’d mature,”

Oikawa’s teammates call him over, apparently there’s an interviewer waiting for him, which doesn’t surprise Iwaizumi at all, so Oikawa just says for Iwaizumi to text him his room number.

It’s late when he comes by, and Iwaizumi hounds him about getting enough sleep. Oikawa falls with a huff on the twin bed by the window.

“Who’s the one keeping me up?”

Iwaizumi comes to stand at the foot. “This doesn’t count; it’s for good reason.”

“You think you’re worth losing sleep?”

Iwaizumi forgot how often he rolled his eyes when in Oikawa’s presence. “Sit up, put your feet on the floor, legs a ninety-degree angle.”

Oikawa complies, and in his best nauseatingly-sweet voice asks a third question. “Do you talk to all your players like that?”

Iwaizumi kneels in front of him and then realizes.

“Tell me you’re wearing something under those?”

Oikawa nearly short-circuits thinking up the perfect response but he just ends up laughing and stepping out of his sweats.

“Thank God.” Iwaizumi resumes his place kneeling on the patterned carpet and put his hands on Oikawa’s thigh.

“It’s the other one,” Oikawa says.

“I know. But you can’t be trusted not to fuck yourself up for volleyball.”

Oikawa snorts. A few moments later, Iwaizumi moves to the other, pressing into the tissues carefully. A little longer, and then he uses his thumbs to dig.

“Tell me if anything hurts.” He scoffs and corrects himself. “Tell me what hurts.”

“Is it so hard to believe I’ve learned to take care of myself?”

Iwaizumi moves one hand to the other knee and feels them simultaneously for comparison. “It really is.”

Oikawa doesn’t say anything, just watches Iwaizumi continue his examination. He thinks about reaching a hand up to feel Iwaizumi’s hair.

“Okay, lie back.”

“Oh good, the fun part.” Oikawa winks and Iwaizumi flicks him.

“The first thing you do when we see each other after all this time is feel me up and physically abuse me, Iwaizumi? Can’t say I’m surprised.”

Iwaizumi holds Oikawa’s ankle in one hand and behind his knee above the calf in the other. He puts a knee on the bed and presses forward. Only when Oikawa’s thigh is entirely flush to his chest does he wince. Iwaizumi watches him for a moment, as Oikawa pointedly looks up at the ceiling.

“Fucker,” Iwaizumi says. “You’re supposed to say when it hurts.”

“I didn’t want you to stop,”

They’re quiet for a moment, looking at each other, till Iwaizumi releases Oikawa’s leg and settles between his thighs. He moves forward, slowly, because it’s been too, too long since he’d torchered Oikawa proper. One hand on Oikawa’s right side, the other on his left, and he bends down like he’s going to kiss him. But he stops and breathes, leans back just enough when Oikawa lifts his head to meet, and chuckles at his irritation. Oikawa squints, takes the fabric of his shirt in his fists and finally – because honestly it had been torcher for Iwaizumi, too – they’re kissing.

They’re steady for a beat, until Iwaizumi feels a hand tug his hair and then they’re touching all over and scrambling for purchase to bring themselves closer, as close as physically possible after being continents apart, and mold into one another.

Then Iwaizumi pulls away for just a moment because he really wants to see what Oikawa looks like kissed stupid after so, so long.

“God,” he breathes.

“You haven’t called me that in some time,” Oikawa manages, and Iwaizumi laughs. The texts, the phone calls – they’d been enough because they were all the two of them had had for months on end, for years, but now, to see Oikawa blush for him, feel his mouth open for him? Iwaizumi doesn’t cry, but Oikawa reaches up to kiss his cheek like he had. Then he licks the same spot with what felt like basset-hound level slobber and falls back in hysterics while he watches Iwaizumi furiously rub his face in the shoulder of his t-shirt.

Oikawa’s stomach flips when Iwaizumi looks at him again, and he lets Iwaizumi gather his wrists in one hand and hold them above his head. The other splays out on Oikawa’s stomach and it flips a second time.

“That’s more like it, Iwa-chan.”

 .

 It’s not entirely a grunt and it’s not entirely a groan, the noise that Oikawa makes as Iwaizumi digs his thumbs into his traps. It’s just a noise, Iwaizumi decides, that he likes – proper term irrelevant.

“You’re really tight,” he says.

From his spot on the floor in front of the edge of Iwaizumi’s bed where Oikawa sits so Iwaizumi can work more easily, Oikawa only turns his head enough to give him a side-eye and half-assed grin. Iwaizumi enjoys that he’s capable of doing something Oikawa likes enough to actually shut up.

“I hope you’re doing this yourself, too.”

“How’s that?”

“Put a tennis ball between the muscle you want to work and a wall and press back till you feel pressure that’s uncomfortable but not painful. I do it for myself all the time.”

“It is really a massage if you do it to yourself?”

“This isn’t a massage, asshole. It’s myofascial release. I just haven’t gotten to the part that hurts yet.”

“Are you sure you went to school for this? Massages are supposed to feel good, Iwa-chan.”

“You’ll feel good tomorrow.”

“Have you ever known me to be patient?”

Iwaizumi sighs. Thinks for a moment. “Alright, lie on your stomach.”

Oikawa, still half-sleep, rises with a groan (this time, definitely a groan) and crawls like a child up past their bedtime to the center of Iwaizumi’s bed. Iwaizumi grabs something from his work bag and moves to sit atop his waist. Oikawa hums with his eyes closed.

“This’ll be cold, but it’ll take the edge off.”

He sprays a menthol solution across Oikawa’s neck and shoulders and down his back. Oikawa flinches, but after Iwaizumi’s warm fingers return, he finds the familiar cooling sensation more than pleasant. It doesn’t quite numb the area, but it helps him relax the muscles he tenses unconsciously throughout the day.

“Do you foam roll?”

“Yeah, mostly my legs.” Oikawa mumbles into the comforter.

Iwaizumi works up high for several minutes before placing hands on either side of Oikawa’s spine a few inches above the waistline. They’re exploratory at first, lacking real pressure, but there’s one area that’s particularly sensitive and Oikawa jumps involuntarily.

“One hell of a knot there.”

He works it for a while.

“Sure you don’t wanna betray shorty and Ushiwaka and join our side?” Oikawa says between breathes Iwaizumi reminds him to keep taking.

“What, your trainer’s no good?”

“He’s plenty good, but nobody’s got your hands, Iwa.”

Iwaizumi snorts. “Even if it’s not bothering you at the time, try and hit your back when you roll, too. You’ll end up pulling something when you serve eventually, otherwise. Do the tennis ball for your shoulders when you can’t get with your trainer.”

Oikawa doesn’t respond yet. It certainly is one hell of a knot, and he shuts his eyes and presses his lips together while Iwaizumi applies pressure that’s almost too much. Then Iwaizumi pulls back and Oikawa practically shudders.

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi says, sitting back. “It’s four-thirty. You should probably shower and head back to your room.”

Oikawa turns over on his back and rubs his hands up and down Iwaizumi’s forearms. “Yes, what would they say about you aiding the enemy? ‘Did you see? Oikawa returned from somewhere before the sun came up today – who could he have been visiting?’”

The corners of Iwaizumi’s lips curl. “As if they’d have to wonder.”

Oikawa props himself up on one elbow and reaches to place a hand behind Iwaizumi’s neck. He pulls him down and kisses him. Is kissed back.

“I’ll think about you tomorrow. When my neck –” another kiss. “– and my shoulders –” another. “– and my back –” just one more. “ – feel good.”

 .

#my writing #iwaoi #oikawa #oikawa tooru #Iwaizumi #Iwaizumi Hajime #haikyuu!! #yes i wanted them all in one place together #but ive also had a very bad day and wanted some attention lol

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Purple (3/?)

Summary: Can you write a bnha story where the reader is an experiment like a Nomu and is the twin sister of Shinso and she went missing years ago at like 5years old. She has a bunch of different quirks but her body can’t handle them so she is always hurt or bandaged. Maybe Aizawa takes her under his wing with Shinso and she falls for Kirishima? She kind of acts like a five-year-old but flinches at sudden noises and movements and has PTSD similar to that of an abused child. Thank you and lots of love! -BC

1 | 2 | 3

“(Y/n)? ... (Y/n) is that you?”

Shinso asked as he took a few steps forward but (Y/n) herself took a few steps back and actively hid behind Aizawa. “ (Y/n) it’s me... Don’t you-it’s me. It is you, isn’t it?”

Shinso rushed forward trying to get close to her but Aizawa scarf caught and pulled him back. Aizawa quickly asked Nezu to take (Y/n) away as he held on to Shinso. 

“NO” Shinso screamed as he watched her leave. “ come back, (Y/n), it’s you. Please don’t leave me. (Y/N), (Y/N)-” Suddenly he was flung back into a wall knocking the breath out of him. He looked at his mentor wide-eyed as he gasped for air. 

“Calm the hell down. You’re scaring her.” Aizawa said as he kneeled in front of him.  “ You’re going to catch your breath and calm down. Then you’re going to explain to me how you know (Y/n)”

“Sh-she was gone... they said...but she’s her” Shinso began to hyperventilate and gasp for air. Aizawa was shocked and very confused as Shinso began to sob uncontrollably and very openly in front of him.  Not really understand or know what to do he untied the boy from his scarf and sat in front of him. He sat quietly and waited for his student to get all his tears out and calm down enough to actually talk about it.

-

“(Y/N), you can slow down now” (Y/N) yelped as quickly stopped and dropped her principle she had picked him up without realizing it. She’d blame it on his plushie appearance. 

“T-that boy... who..?” she questioned softly

“Oh that’s Aizawa’s student he’s been training and mentoring him privately.”

“He knew my name I don’t know him.” 

“I’m sure Aizawa will talk to him and figure things out. How about we go have some tea in the teacher’s lounge.” 

“Yes please” 

-

It took about 30 minutes for Shinso to stop crying and then there were a good 15 minutes of silence before he spoke. 

“I had a twin sister... She was ...soft, kind, caring, she was amazing she was going to do great things...When we were kids we use to play at the park a lot begged mom to go every day. One day we went to the park and she asked to play hide and seek we did rock, paper, scissors to see who would be it she lost but I told her I’d be it anyways... I covered my eyes and counted to 10. I opened my eyes and she was gone. I looked everywhere...never found her... 

“I looked and looked and looked. Everyone else gave up my parents, the police, the heroes. Everyone gave up on my sister but me. I never gave up I kept going I’ve never stopped. She’s the reason I’m here none of those shitty heroes could find her. I’m going to be a hero and find her and save her and save any other kid that has gone and been forgotten. And any other kid that thinks their a villain. I’m going to save them all... I was going to save her... but she’s already been saved. She’s been found. 

Who found her? when? why didn’t they bring her home?... she- why’d she run away?”

“When did she go missing?” Aizawa asked he had to be sure they were the same (Y/n) and not just sharing a name and appearance.

“We had just turned four. Where is she going?”

“You’ve never mentioned her before.”

“It hurts to talk about her. Why did she run away?”

“How-”

“Answer my questions” Shinso demanded Aizawa could see the boy was on the edge of tears again. 

“The League of Villains more specifically All for One had her. Remember All Might’s last fight, we found her in the rumble. She didn’t remember anything but a name and she wasn’t even sure it was hers. We did a full search of her on the national database but nothing came up. Her fingerprints were damaged and her face was beaten so bad facial recognization didn’t work we barely had anything we could find anything. 

“She’s been here the whole time?”

“I’ve had her for about a year but she’s been going to school for the last couple of months. She’s in the hero course.”

“She doesn’t remember me,” Shinso said as he bites his lip fighting tears that were starting to come back

“... her favorite color is purple. Maybe she remembers you and doesn’t realize it.” Shinso looked up with a small smile and a bit of hope. 

“She’s been through a lot, a lot has changed about her and it’s difficult but she’s slowly getting used to life again. I know you want to see your sister again but you’re going to have to be patient and take it real slow.” Aizawa said standing up and pulling Shinso up with him. 

“C-can I see her now, please?”

“Sorry, not right now but don’t worry you’ll see her. I just need you to wait right now while I figure everything out.” 

“But I’ll see her right?” he asked a bit more desperate as he held on to his mentor's hand. He gave him a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll see her, I promise”

Aizawa took the time and walked Shinso to his dorm. Neither of them really had anything to say they both took the short walk as a time to process everything that has happened and that they’ve learned in a short time. They stop in front of the dorm.

“Is she happy?” Shinso asked looking at his feet.

“I believe so, yes” 

“That’s good”. 

-

“She has a family”

The next day Aizawa was in a slump and everyone notice he just couldn’t get the fact that she actually had family out of his head. They could find out and take her away at any minute legally they had a right to she was their daughter but she was his daughter too. 

“what?” Mic questioned not fully paying attention 

“Her real full name is (Y/n) Shinso, she has a mother, father, and twin brother. She went missing in a park by her house when she was four. They spent 6 months looking for her before everyone gave up her brother was the only one who kept looking... She has a family that doesn’t know she’s alive.”

After his initial conversation with Shinso Aizawa immediately looked into the information and found out everything he said was true and that his sister was considered still missing and a cold case. 

“Isn’t finding her family a good thing? why do you look so sad?” All Might questioned as he saw Aizawa get gloomier as he spoke.

“They... their family they can take her and -”

“You want to keep her. You love her” Midnight said with a squeal it was so cute Aizawa with emotions

“Of course I love her she’s my daughter.” he jumped to the defense.

“She is,” Mic said patting his friend on the back 

“But you need to inform her family that you’ve found her. You can’t keep her if she already has a family especially if they still want her.” King Vlad with his logic. 

“I know... I’m going to see them this afternoon.” 

“SO SOON I THOUGHT YOU LOVED HER “ Mic screamed heartbrokenly. 

“He still has to think about her and her parents”

“YOU'RE HER PARENT”

“Mic shut up-”

“she doesn’t remember no one has to know.”

Everyone stopped and looked at Present Mic “ Are you endorsing child kidnapping?”

“I.... maybe?”

“Besides her brother knows Hitoshi Shinso is her brother and he’s seen her. He probably already told her parents... I’ve set up a meeting with them this afternoon. I’ll tell them.” 

“We’re going to lose our baby”

“I’m starting to question where your priorities are. I’m really concerned.”

-

“You’ve been off lately, What’s wrong?” Kirishima asked as he leaned over the edge of his bed looking at (Y/n) who was laying on the floor looking up at the ceiling. 

“huh?” 

Kirishima crawled out of his bed and laid down on the floor next to her. “ What’s wrong?”

“... I met this boy”

“A boy?” Kirishima asked he could feel his stomach drop and a tight feeling in his chest.

“yeah, he knew my name but I didn’t know his. He... he looked like he knew me. He looked scared. He was screaming my name.” (Y/N) turned to her side she looked at him “ I- who was that boy?”

“What did he look like?” 

“He had bags under his eyes like Aizawa and his hair was a pretty purple. I really liked it but not as much as your red.” she gently pulled a strain of his red hair and he smiled. 

“ I think I know who you’re talking about. His name is Hitoshi Shinso his quirk has something to do with brainwashing he’s in the general education classes but he is working his way into the hero course.”

“How does he know me?” 

“I don’t know baby but we’ll find out”

For some reason (y/n) felt good hearing him call her baby, it made her happy. She wanted to hear it more often. Blush dusted her cheeks as she curled into his side. They’d figure things out. Later.

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#hitoshi shinso x reader #shinso x reader #bnha #bnha fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfiction #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima Eijiro fanfiction #fanfiction

[wongiemei]

2. Fear

a/n: aNgST wHO?

The Underworld was, ironically, above water. 

Situated on the vast Pacific, a large island, about twice the size of the United States of America, is known as the Capital. With spells and magic, all of the Coven kingdoms were hidden in plain sight with one being in the Atlantic, some scattered near Antarctica and one at the Indian Ocean. 

One of the famous ones that humans might recognize is the Bermuda triangle.

There are 3 kingdoms at the Atlantic Ocean: House Inure, House Languo, House Vermille.

House Languo is situated right at the middle of the Triangle, luring many pilots and shipmen to become their next meal. 

This is why House Languo is one of the richest houses as they are the known sellers of authentic blood and would even send you a drugged human, bounded and ready to be eaten. The profits kept coming in and they were it so fast that humans started to suspect and created the legend of the Bermuda, calling it a cursed and a haunted part of the world.

In truth, it’s just a part of the Underworld but with frequent unwanted visitors.

But the 2 biggest kingdoms, Kalon and Orenda, rest on the Pacific Ocean with the Capital on top of the Ring of Fire, known in the Underworld as the Entrance to Hell.

Some say it’s unlucky to have a vampire kingdom so near the thing that could kill them but some say the reason they’re so respected is that they are so near it and could withstand it.

But who really knows the answer.

Waking up from the bright sunlight, you squirmed and accidentally rolled out of bed, dragging the sheets and covers. At this point, you were so tired that you were willing to fall asleep again but as you settled on your back, your eyes snapped open and you blinked, surprised, when you saw a head of blonde hair peer over the edge of the bed.

“And you call yourself a queen.” 

His smirk after the insult made a growl escape your lips and you sprang back up to the bed, sitting on his bare torso and pinning his arms beside his head. Jaemin smirked up at you and unknowingly licked his lips at your bare chest with the sight of purple and red colors left from last night.

You scoffed slightly at the look on his face until you noticed his line of sight and shook your head, disappointed at your perverted husband. Releasing his arms and leaning back to place your butt on his lower abdomen, you quickly shifted away, feeling it poke your back.

With an irritated look, your eyebrows knitted together, “As if you didn’t use me enough last night, you still want more. How much more do you still want me from, Orendian?” 

Jaemin smugly placed his left arm beneath his head and his right hand drifted to softly grab your chin, “We were married for an alliance and children symbolize that it is official, don’t you think?”

“I will not become your birth factory. As much as you don’t want to, I intend to rule beside you and I will voice out my opinion if it’s needed. I will not hesitate to put you in your place, king or not.”

Thinking that your statement would make him angry, instead it made his grin wider. His right hand wandered down to your waist and his left arm left its spot from his head to place it to the other side of your waist. You looked at him curiously, guarded and not knowing of what his true intentions were. Through half-lidded eyes, Jaemin looked up at you and his grin turned lazy.

“You are quite bold, woman. Aren’t you afraid that one day, you say the wrong word and I rip out your tongue from your mouth?”

With a defiant glare, you responded, “What I said last night still remains true today and for eternity. You will never scare me, Na Jaemin. For you are only a puny prince whose future will bring the Underworld farther than Hell itself.”

Although his smile remained, Jaemin’s eyes visibly hardened and with all of his strength, he forcibly pinned you to the bed, red eyes glazing over your face. Lingering on odd places like your cheeks or your neck, Jaemin blinked slowly at you, anger radiating from his form.

“A puny prince, huh? My wife, my queen, seems to think that I am not capable of leading our country for the better. Should I teach her a lesson? Should I fuck her until her legs are shaking and mark her dry until all the blood is gone from her body? Or should I just hand her over to my men and let her experience a second without her title,” he sneered. 

Fear bubbled inside you but you forced it down and you cursed the weakness of your mind.

Even though vampires were mostly indestructible on the outside with cement-like skin, they were very prone and vulnerable to normal emotions. The absence of the heart meant nothing as the blood of humans carried something that fueled their existence and it traveled inside. But normal emotions was normal and could easily be felt, vampire or not.

A small but cold laugh escaped your lips, “My bloodline runs all over the kingdoms. If you should even do that, they are obligated to ruin Orenda due to their association with me. So try it, my king. For it will be the last time you’ll ever see your country and your family, alive.”

The threat clearly affected the boy but you were taken aback by his response. A pair of cold lips smashed to your own and you responded just as harsh, biting his lips and drawing his blood.

But when his lips left yours to bite on your flesh, a soft whimper filled the room as the razor sharp teeth roughly attached themselves on you and the abuse was something familiar yet unfamiliar to you. The fear of being trapped and so helpless that you couldn’t even push him away because you were weak.

He was taking his anger out, on you.

And there was nothing you could do to defend yourself.

You cried on the tub that day.

Paris was unusually cold during the summer month of June.

You bundled up in a beige trench coat with a black baker boy hat and a pair of vintage oval sunglasses from the 60s. The sunlight did little to nothing as it was still near 40 degrees and it didn’t warm the air. However, the sun’s fiery rays were still felt by sensitive beings like you and vampires were very prone to being cautious and try to stay away from hot things like those.

“Dear cousin, I take your honeymoon with the prince did not satisfy you as you are here shopping with me in Paris when you could be busy making love to your new husband.”

“Jaehyun, do watch your mouth. As much as I could care less for him, insulting his manhood is enough to cause that wretched temper of his into launching a seige to Metanoia and I do love you and Uncle and Aunt but your kingdom is far smaller and weaker than his army. You are one of my favorites and I’d rather love to watch Hoseok for his coronation to his kingdom that is still there.”

Jaehyun watched you with an amused look as your answer was said as you flicked through the coat racks full of Louis Vuitton coats, joining you with the inspection of the clothing. You were so nonchalant over the whole thing and he can really see the amount of training your parents have put you through to prepare you for your marriage to Jaemin.

“You know, sometimes I forget that you were the same girl who cried because I wouldn’t let her put a flower crown on my head,” he chuckled causing you look at him with a nostalgic look on your face.

“Oh, yes. I was quite naive back then.”

Jaehyun sighed as his eyes continued to look up and down on this particular honey mustard coat, “I remember you being scared of the most childish things. Johnny surprised you by the garden and you cried your little eyes out until your mother threatened to beat you. I guess that’s why you’re not really scared of anything now, huh?” He turned to look at you with a boyish smile, implying your easy agreement to the marriage.

“But the difference was, everything was perfect back then. We were young and we didn’t have anything to fear except for bath time. Now, we worry over who we’re expected to be and who we ought to marry for alliances.” Jaehyun’s fingers froze and he looked off into the wall. “Our lives have slowly become purely our parents and it fucking scares me that one day, we will be like them too. That’s my fear, Jaehyun. My one fear.”

Turning away from the horridly bright colors of the clothing, Jaehyun looked back at you and he felt sadness swelling up inside at the sight before him.

You’ve managed to fool everyone with your bravery and courage for your parents’ favor. However, there was a time where it wasn’t all an act and that you really were ready to risk it all just because they asked you to. 

A naive little girl.

But now that you’ve been exposed to everything and anything, Jaehyun saw the little girl crying behind those scarlet orbs, not because of his strong refusal of the orchid covered crown, but with fear of the world and no one to defend her for what’s to come.

a/n: oof sorry for making jaemin look like an asshole but hey, we need a plot line!

might start updating once or twice a week, usually monday. i have about 2 chapters written out just not fully written out, yknow? hard to explain but here’s your update!! so sorry for making yall wait without a schedule 🥺 ayo, send a few of yall names so i can use your name for an oc in this series. i feel kinda bad bc y/n’s friends needs some names

last also. if yall didn’t get it, jaehyun’s birthday is valentines day and she’s in paris and paris is known to be the city of love so paris is a part of metanoia, which is jaehyun’s kingdom, and Hoseok, J-Hope, is with the last name of Jung so I made him jaehyun’s older brother. a lot more characters will show up in the next chapter so don’t worry!!!

here’s a taglist, (just tell me if you want to be added!):

@bobohu-s-ane-yeobo​ 

#nct #nct dream #nct u #nct 127 #na jaemin #jaemin #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin imagine #na jaemin scenarios #na jaemin scenario #vampire!jaemin #na jaemin au #jaemin au #jaemin imagines #jaemin imagine #jaemin scenarios #jaemin scenario #vampire!nct #jaemin vampire au #nct vampire au #nct dream imagines #nct dream imagine #nct dream scenarios #nct dream scenario #nct dream au #nct dream angst #nct au #angst #nct imagines #nct imagine

[ayellowcurtain]

can you do a duck where lucas inherits his mother’s bipolar/mental illness and like eliott yann etc start seeing symptoms maybe lucas is having like HIGH highs and everything is amazing and eliot is like 👀 but everyone brushes it off and then a low point comes along and mahon/yann starts suspecting as well ands then it’s like a day of happy and then a jump off boat level episode except sad and dangerous?

can u please write something about how lucas loves being held,kissed and picked up by his mec...bc it’d reduce the global warming, thank you so much

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

Eliott thought that he was an expert at knowing if someone has bipolar disorder. His experiences would make him recognize someone or at least symptoms from a mile away, but he was wrong. Or he was too busy with himself to see what was right in front of him.

If someone asked for an honest answer, Eliott would say he actually enjoys his highs way too much so, whenever Lucas was being a little too high he never thought it was a symptom, that was just sort of how Lucas is constantly. Full of energy and wild ideas. And they’re crazy about each other so having sex for hours and hours and hours would never be a problem between them.

He started noticing it when their relationship started to feel like the worst roller coaster he could ever ride and Lucas was right by his side, having his highs and lows.

It became too much and Eliott needed some days away to recover and be alone. He made up a last-minute trip to see his parents and left Lucas behind. It had only been a few hours and he received the first text from Yann.

to Eliott: What’s going on? Where are you?

to Yann: On the train, going to visit my parents for the weekend. Why?

To Eliott: I don’t know...Lucas said you two broke up.

Eliott feels his heart contracting way too much inside his chest. They didn’t break up, obviously, but he can see how Lucas thought that after their conversation. Eliott said he wasn’t feeling ok, Lucas had been crying about anything for the last week and he started again when Eliott told him he was going away for the weekend, without Lucas. They usually go everywhere together so to not invite Lucas was a conscious decision he made and he saw that Lucas was hurt because of it.

His phone locked while he got lost thinking about a crying Lucas that he left behind.

to Yann: We didn’t break up, I just needed to come to my parents alone. If you can, please check on Lucas for me this weekend? I’ll be back on Monday.

To Eliott: ...Ok…

Now he’s worried. Maybe it was a mistake to just leave like that, without an explanation or without properly talking to Lucas about what he’s been worrying about. Eliott hates when people try to give him advice about his mental health when he didn’t ask for it so he couldn’t say to Lucas: you should go see a doctor.

He’s not in his perfect state of mind either, so he just thought it was for the best to step back for a few days. Maybe he was being selfish and his lack of tact to deal with Lucas’ emotions would only make it worse for the other one, but his mind was still deciding to stay selfish when he put his phone on airplane mode until he was back in Paris to deal with Lucas. He would have a few days to think on how to say it to Lucas that he should also look for a treatment.

-

The time doesn’t pass fast enough, the train seems to be taking double the time to do the same trip back to Paris.

How could you be so fucking dumb? Lucas probably hates you now. And Yann too and all the others. You’ll be lucky if they let you see him.

Eliott knows it won’t work, but he tries calling Lucas, again and again, he hears the voice mail and hangs up without leaving a message. The train finally stops and he’s the first one to get out, holding the shoulder strap of his backpack tighter, running out of the station.

While he’s inside the taxi he checks his phone again, all the unread messages from the weekend that he only replied two hours ago weren’t read yet, but from what he can understand from Manon’s and Yann’s messages, Lucas is probably in the flat, probably surrounded by all his friends.

Lucas hasn’t read his messages yet, but Eliott sends another one anyway.

to Lucas: I love you and I’m sorry. I’m on my way to the flat now.

He’s ready to wait for as long as they let them outside, ringing the bell. They probably expect him to give up at some point if they ignored him, but he needs to see Lucas right now. 

He puts his backpack on the floor, looking up, the balcony door is open, the white curtain floating outside with the wind. Eliott finally rings the bell, biting his nails, thinking on what he’ll say the one second he’ll have before whoever picks up the intercom realizes that it’s him outside.

Whoever it is, Eliott doesn’t even let them say hi.

“Hey, hm, it’s Eliott-” He hears the door unlocking and he looks at it. They let them in. He grabs his bag and rushes upstairs before they can change their minds.

The door is already open and Manon is there, holding it for him.

“He was asking for you, so…” She says like she’s reading his mind about why they would let him see Lucas after everything that happened this weekend.

“Thank you…” He passes by her, looking for his boyfriend already. The common areas are empty and weirdly quiet, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters when he finally sees Lucas in the hall, using some comfortable clothes, but he doesn’t look too happy. He’s so different from the Lucas that Eliott left three days ago.

There’s no light in his eyes, he looks at Eliott like he doesn’t feel a thing for him, but he’s there and he was asking for Eliott so he can’t hate him...

Eliott can’t let Lucas hate him or just don’t care about him. He made a mistake and he’ll fix everything for his boyfriend. Lucas stays still as Eliott walks to him, bending down just enough to hug him by the waist, nuzzling against his neck and Lucas finally responds, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck, turning his face and burying his nose on his temple.

“Putain, I love you so much, Lucas.” He whispers against the warm skin of his neck and Lucas slowly climbs on him and Eliott holds him tighter, walking to his bedroom. 

Yann and Mika are still there and Eliott looks at them just for a second, noticing the death stare from Yann, but they’ll talk later, not now. Mika gently pushes Yann out of the bedroom and Eliott waits for them to be out to lock the door, taking Lucas to his bed, cuddling with him, running his fingers through his hair, saying that he’ll be ok.

Maybe he’s being pretentious, but he knows how much Lucas likes his touch and to be as close to him as he can, so today he just hopes it’ll make Lucas feel just a little bit better, to have him around, holding him tightly. 

#skam france #elu fic #eliott demaury #Lucas Lallemant #elu

[a-very-fond-farewell]

The forbidden crack! Untamed prompts: 15/? Kimi no Na Wa AU: “Seamless” [ok I changed stuff bc I’m well on my way to thirty and teenage love is fun and fresh until you realize you could technically be a parent yourself and then it’s all downhill from there. so the characters are adults, sorry about that] [title comes from (what I understand to be) a way of saying that goes “a goddess’s robe is seamless” which (supposedly) should mean a great plan coming together –which reminded me of fate and time and the whole underlying plot of the movie– or something perfect/the product of perfect craftsmanship. I was looking for info about weaving procedures and I stumbled across this:

From Wikipedia, under “Loom” “In Tang Dynasty, China, the goddess weaver floated down on a shaft of moonlight with her two attendants. She showed the upright court official Guo Han in his garden that a goddess's robe is seamless, for it is woven without the use of needle and thread, entirely on the loom. The phrase "a goddess's robe is seamless" passed into an idiom to express perfect workmanship. This idiom is also used to mean a perfect, comprehensive plan.”

There’s also reference to the legend of Vega and Altair, which is what the Japanese festival tanabata is based on. And my creative juices gave me a sugar high so...yeah] * No matter how isolated Gusu is known to be, preparations for the upcoming July festival attract people from all over the country. Time has relentlessly transformed what used to be a secluded and safe place for people to meditate in into a tourist location known for its cold springs and breathtaking sceneries. Yet, Lan Zhan wonders what cities and stories could possibly hide behind those mountains he has known for all his life.

Managing the temple of the goddess along with his older brother and uncle should bring him joy, but deep down he knows he’s still living beside them more out of obligation than anything else. Lan Huan himself feels trapped behind the usual mask of politeness and fake smiles, his heart still bleeding for the loss of his two precious friends in the span of five years. Their uncle Lan QiRen well may have taken them in when they were mere children, stepping in to take care of them in place of their mourning father after losing his wife... but Lan Zhan knows his brother doesn’t want to disappoint their elder in any way.

Falling in love not once, but two times in a lifetime should not be frowned upon... but Lan QiRen couldn’t stomach the idea of one of his nephews falling for a man the first time, let alone the second. Just having said goodbye to Nie MingJue when they were mere teenagers after their uncle had prohibited him from meeting with his nephew, Lan Huan thought he could have another chance at happiness with Meng Yao in his twenties... just for the other man to fall ill and move country to look after himself. Ever since, Lan Huan has stopped believing in ever being able to find happiness for himself and decided to accept his fate and manage the temple like their uncle did for most of his life.

The idea of celibacy doesn’t sit well with Lan Zhan, not for himself and certainly not for his heartbroken brother, but life outside Gusu seems so far away and unapproachable. Without them the ancient tradition of working the loom to create seamless robes would perish and most of the profits from the temple would fall dry if not for their hard work. Their mother used to be a seamstress herself, teaching them how to weave without breaking the delicate thread, setting the rhythm of their hearts with her feet moving on the pedals as they watched her work her magic day after day. Their robes are still valued for their absolute perfection, even if nowadays they’re bound to be bought not by emperors or kings, but by celebrities and politicians who just want to boast their ego in front of cameras and flashing lights. The set Lan Zhan himself has been working on will take another three months to finish and on top of that he uses his spare time to make the ribbons they sell at the local gift shop while his brother prepares the traditional talismans by hand, his calligraphy as delicate as the products of their weaving. 

As the nights of the local festival approach and they practice the rituals in full traditional gear more to appease the tourists than anything else, Lan Zhan feels getting more and more tired the longer he wears the long wig and the heavy robes himself, wishing his heart could stop being so ungrateful for the life he was entrusted with. But the news of a comet quickly approaching them brings the promise of change as Lan Zhan looks up at the sky and wishes he was born in a different body. Just for once. Just to live at least once in that existence of his.

[more under the cut]

Wei Ying is in university (engineering major), living with his brother Jiang Cheng (marine biology major) in their sister’s tiny ass apartment. They keep her company while she waits for baby Jin Ling to be born, ZiXuan working day and night in the hospital fresh out of med school to get their family a bigger house. Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng moved in from the tiny Yunmeng and secretly hate the big city life, but their studies come first and they didn’t want to leave YanLi alone while pregnant. Their parents are still working in the countryside and couldn’t properly care for her, living so far away in Lanling.

Wei Ying works part time in a bar and the usual routine is so rooted in his system that he doesn’t even care anymore. Study, eat, work, sleep. Rinse and repeat. He would like to think his brother has it easier than him, but he’s even more elusive than him, studying in the library until his night shift in an art gallery as a guard. The poor guy doesn’t even sleep, let alone have a social life. Spring has just begun and YanLi still has a trimester to go, her spirits low even if she loves her child very much already. Keeping her company and helping her leading a normal life is their priority as her brothers, but sometimes Wei Ying wishes things were easier.

He doesn’t really want to become an engineer, or, at least... he used to want that. But he’s more interested in actually making stuff instead of taking a hundred calculus classes per semester. He wishes he could enjoy his studies more and maybe get a girlfriend or boyfriend to pass the time, not that he believes in romance or anything. Commitment sounds scary.

One day he wakes up and... nah, he’s still dreaming. The ceiling is wrong, he doesn’t live in an old traditional cottage with a view on... wtf is that a mountain? Fuck that he doesn’t have time to waste, he has a test today. Studied hard enough last night he fell asleep on the desk... better start getting ready.

So he goes to the bathroom and showers, too tired to even open his eyes. But the shampoo smells all wrong, what even is sandalwood? And he doesn’t like mint toothpaste. And why are his clothes a size bigger? He doesn’t even own a button down, what in the...?

Who the fuck is that in the mirror??!?

On the other hand, Lan Zhan wakes up on a desk, drool on the books, late for a test an angry stranger reminds him he has to take in half an hour at best. He is presented with a soup his body mechanically ingests out of habit as he tries to politely nod to whatever the kind woman in front of him is saying. (“You look sick, are you really okay?” / “A-Jie stop babying him” / “But I’ve never seen him so... quiet?” / “He’s probably pretending so that he can skip his test.”) But if he really has given his word for such a commitment... maybe he should just go.

Still, he doesn’t remember going to any university. That may be a problem.

His body feels different, but he never paid attention to his reflection. They don’t even own mirrors back at home anyway. He doesn’t remember his hair reaching well over his ears and under his jaw. Should he consider asking his brother to cut it for him? It feels greasy, should he fix it or?

As he tucks a strand behind his ear he realizes something is terribly wrong. From the tip of his nose to the width of his shoulders, from the clothes he put on without even thinking. The window of the shop under the apartment he’s just left shows him a stranger that he cannot recognizes for the life of his.

And now some funny stuff:

(If you are not familiar with the movie, go watch it. But if you are you should be fine with the following list so... enjoy)

Jiang Cheng loves dogs, but Wei Ying is allergic and they cannot get a puppy... so he de-stresses at a local dog café whenever he can. Wen Qing works there even if she’s a cat person and comments on how he’s secretly planning to murder her so he can get her job. They’re good friends and dated for a while before Wen Qing understood her lesbianism was stronger and Jiang Cheng’s chaotic bisexuality was leaning more on the boy section of the partner store anyway. They bitch about everything and everyone anyway.

Lan Zhan (in Wei Ying’s body) manages to arrive in university and take the test, getting perfect scores even if Wei Ying’s never got such a high mark. For the rest of the day he roams Lanling in awe, believing it’s just a very nice dream. He also discovers the existence of pet bunnies in a pet store and his life changes.

Wei Ying (in Lan Zhan’s body) is a mess. Lan Huan immediately notices something is wrong, but he hasn’t really smiled in several months and whatever is happening to WangJi is extremely entertaining to him. He sees him skipping the morning prayers right in front of Lan QiRen’s salad (so to speak) and he doesn’t seem to remember the existence of their uncle’s punishing bamboo stick.

He also clearly never used a loom in his life, but luckily Lan QiRen is too busy to notice as he welcomes tourists in the temple and explains them the history behind it. Lan Huan takes “Lan Zhan” out for a stroll and they sit down as Lan QiRen’s mellow voice explains the legend of the weaver goddess and the importance of the artisanal work they still keep practicing to this day. Transfixed, “Lan Zhan” smiles big at his brother and Lan Huan knows for sure this is not his WangJi at all.

Wen Qing finds “Wei Ying” petting bunnies in the shop where her current girlfriend MianMian works and notices how... awfully quiet he is. She thinks he bombed the math test and might be sad, but he doesn’t seem to recognize her when she waves her hand at him. She then reminds him he should be getting ready for work and he blanches at the idea. Eventually asking her “where he’s supposed to depart for” and honest to the gods Wen Qing ends up convincing herself he’s high as fuck.

Imagine “Lan Zhan” being reprimanded by Lan QiRen for -gods forbid- laughing too loud? Asking for a beer at the local tea house? Saying out loud that he craves meat when he’s vegetarian? That’s just a dream for poor Wei Ying, whatever! He’s having a great time and Lan Huan is this close to lose it when they practice the traditional rites together and “Lan Zhan” doesn’t know how to put the long wig on anymore.

Now imagine “Wei Ying” not knowing how to use a shaker at work, or how to make a martini, or the fact that he and a boy named Wen Ning are actually coworkers and not strangers. He goes back home at 3am with the feeling he has forgotten something important, but when he finally (finally) finds his apartment he falls asleep on the doorway. Too drained by the city life to even change out of his uniform.

Next day there’s no switch: Wei Ying wakes up in his body by the doorway, with Jiang Cheng coming back from his night shift and panicking hard; Lan Zhan wakes up in his bed but he’s somewhat grounded at 20 for... drinking beer?

Technical stuff now!

Lan Zhan lives in 2010 and he is 20, Wei Ying lives in 2015 and he is 20.

It’s LXC who suggest his brother to keep a diary for his dreams if they get too crazy (later on it will be revealed something shocking about LXC, but for now the journaling is just a “suggestion”)

WWX and LWJ switch every other night or so, and things change when WWX wakes up in LWJ’s body and finds the diary.

They keep in touch with diaries [bc I don’t think LWJ would have a phone like...ever, but I digress]

WWX notices the two Jades of Gusu are kept outside of their peers’ circles because other people think their family is weird: they still use courtesy names; they don’t eat meat; most of their relatives are believed to have died in celibacy without actually being monks themselves; they don’t drink alcohol and are deemed unsociable... and so on.

But it’s when he overhears people bashing LXC for “his past with several boys” and for “running away from society like his father” that WWX (in LWJ’s body) actually loses it and starts a fistfight right then and there until those losers stop muttering behind their backs.

In the meantime, ZiXuan comes back home to surprise YanLi... and LWJ is there (in WWX’s body) and the younger man almost doesn’t let him enter bc he doesn’t know who this strange man is and what does he want from Jiang Cheng’s sister?

LWJ also follows JC to his night shift one day bc he’s never seen an art gallery (but apparently WWX often trails behind his younger step brother anyway, so JC doesn’t notice anything weird... aside from how quiet the other is)

JC then takes that opportunity to ask his brother (while LWJ inhabits said body) if... if he’s depressed and needs help [“Wen Qing saw you petting bunnies too many times for you to be ‘just fine’. You can talk to me.” / “it’s fine.” / “fuck that you’re not fine. Stop lying to me.” / “it’s just a transitional time for me, it will pass” / “who taught you such big words, what the fuck”] and then JC begrudgingly tells his brother than he loves him and doesn’t want him to be sad.

The next day WWX is back in his body and finds written down: “your brother tells me he loves you and that you should take better care of yourself” and WWX clowns the fuck out of JC the following day and JC is like “noPe. You’re fucking fine. Whatever, your fucking with me. You’re always fucking with me. Stupid of me to fucking care, gods forbid.”

LWJ starts developing feeling when he learns WWX defended Lan Huan + LWJ goes every night he can to the art gallery when he doesn’t have to work at the bar and learns there’s an entire section of the gallery dedicated to Gusu + but he doesn’t want to think about home for now, avoiding the exhibit, and so he learns more about JC and starts to think he would have lots of things to talk about with LXC.

Lan QiRen takes his nephews to their annual purification trip to Burial Mounds, to a cave hidden on the mountain where it is said the goddess met with her lover for the first time in the past. They leave their offerings and change the ropes securing the entrance of the cave with sturdier ones, which they have made themselves prior that year. It is said that whoever enters the cave will be granted a wish, so it’s responsibly of the Lan family to keep everyone else out until the lover of the goddess returns to be granted the wish to reunite with her. It’s a privilege the goddess has left for him to enjoy and no mortal should dare take that from him. Only those who wear the sacred headband of the Lan family can enter without being cast out of the cave and be forced to leave by the spirits.

WWX falls in love with LWJ a bit everyday: the little gifts and notes he finds on his desk for WWX to open and read every morning; the beautiful drawings LWJ makes of the mountains; the care he put in the white robes that should adorn a deity and not common human beings.

crushed with longing for WWX, LWJ wishes to meet with him one day (the real him) and so he runs away from Gusu on train and reaches Lanling and searches for him at the university. But he’s not there. He looks everywhere for him, but doesn’t find him. Until he stumbles into YanLi and it’s almost like there’s a wall between them: shocked, LWJ recognizes YanLi even if he knows she has never actually met him in real life; but the worst thing is that... she’s not pregnant. She’s not even at home as she usually is, but going to university herself and it doesn’t even seem like she’s even in a relationship with ZiXuan yet: the two of them not even sparing a glance to one another in the university corridors.

LWJ finds his words at long last, asking YanLi if her brother Wei Ying is well. She beams at him at first, elated to see her brother actually has friends outside of the family... “but you look around my age, right? What business do you have being friends with a fifteen year old boy anyway?”

Shocked, the last thing LWJ can do before leaving her alone is to give her a ribbon he made himself, the one that represents his heart. “I just know him by chance, he... he helped my brother once. I was wondering how to repay his kindness so I made this for him. Can you give it to him?”

That evening he goes back to Gusu and he prepares for the festival knowing the comet is coming. The last thing he wishes is to forget about Wei Ying, because -having realized there’s a discrepancy in timelines and that he has interacted with someone from the future for months now- he cannot possibly justify having developed feelings for a minor.

There are no more switches and WWX is left wondering what happened.

Now the sad part:

Under the weather for what happened, WWX follows JC around a lot and he even adopts a couple of bunnies to cope. YanLi is closer and closer to the due date and gets restless, forcing her brothers to clean up the entire apartment with her until everything sparkles for the baby’s arrival. They dig out an old box with all of YanLi’s stuff from university and LWJ’s ribbon appears out of nowhere. WWX immediately recognizes it for what it is.

[“I’m sorry A-Ying, I was supposed to give you this back then, but I forgot.” / “What are you taking about... why do you have a Gusu’s ribbon with you?” / “Ah, was your acquaintance from up there? He said you helped his brother once, or something like that... and he wanted to thank you. I’m really sorry.” / “How long ago was that A-Jie?” / “Five years or so? I think?”]

To this JC startles, saying that’s awfully weird, considering what happened to Gusu exactly five years prior. To which WWX is like ?pardon? and then JC takes them to the art gallery to the traditional art section, where the exhibit on Gusu is: there, WWX finally remembers how a relatively small rock has detached itself from the comet and destroyed Gusu in 2010 on the final day of the July festival.

On a display there, the siblings find one of the few things spared by the fire: an unfinished set of robes weaved with the precious heavenly silk, which was said to be made from the stars themselves.

Wei Ying cries all of his tears, neither JC or YanLi can console him and the only thing they come up with is that -maybe- their brother felt bad for forgetting to cherish a friendship... but they don’t remember if he had reacted so badly five years ago when the news of the fire at Gusu broke.

In the middle of the night, with the ribbon secured around his wrist, Wei Ying runs away and takes a train to Gusu. There are no more direct lines and he has to hike all the way up there... just to see a lake where the town was supposed to be. The crater so big it swallowed the ground where half of the city used to be.

Desperate, he wanders the mountains without knowing where to go, until his feet take him to the secluded path Uncle QiRen took him once. He follows it, noticing the same ribbons knotted around the trees he saw the first time he walked there. He follows the path and reaches the cave.

Inside, nothing happens. The talismans are still there, but -as he imagined (*eyeroll emoji*)- there’s no actual magic preventing him from entering. So he jumps over the white ropes made of ribbons and silk and gets inside the cave of Burial Mounds. He takes shelter there from the storm outside and thinks of Lan Zhan, of how much he misses him. And then he cries thinking about him and his brother and their uncle and the entire Gusu: because none of them deserved to die. And he wishes he can rewind time and save them all.

He faints in the cave and his wish is granted.

Now for the good part!

He wakes up in LWJ’s body (in 2010), the day after the boy’s impromptu trip to Lanling, the last day of the July festival. He gets to work as soon as he goes downstairs, determination painting his (well, LWJ’s) features to the point Lan Huan notices... and he has to say something.

While they ate breakfast, out of Lan QiRen’s sight, Lan Huan sits his “brother” down and tells him something unexpected: that he used to switch bodies with not one but with two people at the same time, NMJ and JGY.

That he managed to finally meet NMJ in their teens when the older boy came to Gusu for a school trip... but he didn’t want to leave bc he had finally found LXC and didn’t want to part ways. Lan QiRen put end to the older boy’s silly antics and the two friends agreed to meet in secret, before Lan Huan put a end to the relationship for fear of displeasing his uncle. The three friends kept switching bodies until one day they stopped.

Then Meng Yao came to find him and told him he had discovered the truth of what happened: that NMJ had a car accident and lost most of his memories of their years as friends and that now was living somewhere else with the woman he fell in love with. Meng Yao himself tried to live in Gusu for a few years afterwards, regardless of his poor health, eventually deciding to not make Lan Huan worry and disappeared without a word to take care of himself (or to die far away enough so that Lan Huan didn’t have to see him at his worst).

Lan Huan said that it took him years to remember their names and that he was able to finally utter them in front of his brother only the previous year, at the last July festival. He also reveals WWX that trying to remember something so simple caused him great pain, to the point he believed he could let himself die that way, starving himself from human connection.

Impressed and sorrowful, WWX cries for him and wishes things were different for Lan Huan, who’s only 23 and yet had suffered more than anyone else. But Lan Huan is content with what he has, even if he feels guilty for being the reason Meng Yao neglected his health. Yet he’s happy for NMJ and doesn’t regret befriending them at all.

With his help, WWX alerts people in Gusu: LXC finally standing up for himself against their uncle in order to gain his respect and convince him of the emergency at hand.

On the other hand, LWJ wakes up in the cave in WWX’s body (in 2015) and doesn’t know why he’s there. Yet he knows the way out and travels back following the ribbons... but when he reaches Gusu he sees there’s only a crater filled with water and doesn’t know what to do. He knows of the time discrepancy between the two realities, but he doesn’t know what to think.

WWX realizes LWJ must be in his body somewhere on the Burial Mounds, from the top of which Gusu can be seen, but he doesn’t know if he would find his own body in the cave, since the year now is 2010 and WWX reached the cave by himself only in 2015. Yet something tells him to go and so he leaves for the mountain.

On top of the Burial Mounds, he doesn’t find anyone.

But Lan Zhan is there, on the other side of the veil between present and future.

And as the light of the sun fades away and dusk approaches, Wei Ying enters his body and Lan Zhan gets back inside his own. They meet for the first time and Wei Ying doesn’t know what to say, having never seen Lan Zhan’s body from outside and feeling suddenly very self conscious and uninteresting.

To which Lan Zhan responds with “are you legal?” / “what the fuck Lan Zhan.” / “I gave you my ribbon. did you receive it?” / “yes, my... my sister gave it to me like, yesterday.” / “yesterday as in... what year?” / “2015”

And then Lan Zhan kisses the hell out of him because nothing screams romanticism to him like a relationship between two contenting adults and Wei Ying gets blissed out of his pants for that single kiss on the spot. In between kisses Wei Ying tries to convince Lan Zhan to stop, that there’s something they should remember... or at least something they should not forget.

But Lan Zhan does not relent, hugging and holding Wei Ying, finally... finally keeping him close and never letting him go.

Until Wei Ying disappears and the only thing left of him is the white ribbon Lan Zhan has given him.

They forgot to write their names, so that they would not forget them like LXC has done for years.

And finally.....!

years have passed, it’s the beginning of 2020 [sans quarantine, thank you] and Wei Ying has graduated and is looking for a job. He doesn’t remember Lan Zhan.

Jiang Cheng has found a job close to the sea at the local aquarium and the only thing he talks about on the phone is “how useless his new intern is. a nobody late bloomer who discovered the mountain wasn’t for him and decided to study in the opposite direction, go figure. Gusu must have bored him alright. but the other day he reminded me mountains are actually ancient reefs and now I think I’m in love.” So all is well.

(Gusu did not fall and everyone was evacuated in time. Lan Zhan had descended the mountain and made sure his brother got his backup in convincing their uncle of the emergency. He doesn’t remember either, but he always keeps his ribbon on his wrist, feeling like he’s waiting for someone to get it back.)

On a snowy night they cross paths on a pedestrian bridge, but don’t recognize each other... until Wei Ying’s scent of lotus reaches Lan Zhan. But the other has already disappeared behind a corner of the ever busy Lanling and they miss each other once again.

The following day, when Wei Ying has just dropped Jin Ling at his kindergarten and is about to cross a road, he sees a familiar face on the other side of the street. Both of them are talking to the phone: Wei Ying to Jiang Cheng, who’s calling him from a toilet, panicking about his first date with the intern; and Lan Zhan with his brother Lan XiChen, who’s waiting for his date to come back from the bathroom in the restaurant they chose to meet at.

As they walk towards each other they sense something, but don’t stop. Until they have now reached their respective sides of the road and realize what just happened. They turn around, but there are too many cars in between them.

They look for a way to meet and run towards a pedestrian bridge right above the road. They make the steps two at a time until they’re out of breath on top and stare at each other after so long. Wei Ying has lived for five years feeling like half of him was missing, but Lan Zhan had spent twice as long waiting for something to change in his life.

(“I’m still legal, you know?” / “That’s the first thing you decide to tell me after ten years? Really?” / “you thought it was romantic last time” / “what’s that supposed to mean?” / “that you should kiss me right the fuck now, you big oaf.”)

They meet in the middle of the bridge and kiss.

Then, Lan Zhan tilts his head and ask “what was you name again?”, clearly amused, and waits until Wei Ying’s laughter resonates all around.

The fucking end.

Now I need a break.

*

#mdzs #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #cql #the forbidden crack! untamed prompts #mdzs/au: manga/anime inspired #mdzs/au: kimi no na wa