#skinny jeans and hair with stupid bangs

[yeonzzzn]

⛸️snow & candles: sunghoon

a you complete me series: one / seven

pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader

word count: 2.1k

synopsis: the first snow fall of december just happened to be on sunghoon’s birthday

genre: established relationship, vampire!sunghoon, witch!reader

warnings: mentions of blood, reader has long black hair and facial piercings, stubbornly cute birthday boy sunghoon ♡

p1: vampires bleeding mlist

☾ sunghoon(1) | niki(2) | heeseung(3) | jungwon(4) | jake(5) | jay(6) | sunoo(7) ☽

You were the first to wake up this morning, leaving Sunghoon alone in the bed you share. The blanket pulled up to his nose as he was cuddled up on his side. 

You quietly changed out of your pajamas and into a nice ripped pair of skinny jeans, your black combat boots, your favorite gray long-sleeved shirt, and a brown cardigan sweater. 

Sitting at your vanity, you pulled your favorite rings onto your fingers. The scars from the burns that Dorian caused that unfortunate day, were now a light pink and not as noticeable, which you were thankful for. Sunghoon loved your scars, always saying they are proof of how you survived and how closer you are to a human than he was. Unfortunately, you still hated the scars after the full year since the events unfolded. 

You pulled your long black hair into your famous braid, leaving your bangs to fall beside your face. You changed out your black nose ring for a pretty silver to match your eyebrow piercing. 

You carefully slipped out of the bedroom, leaving Sunghoon to continue sleeping in peace. 

It was barely eight a.m. as you rushed to the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. 

You poured the beans into the coffee maker and pressed the blind button, watching as the machine did its magic. 

The next on your morning bucket list was to pull Sunghoon’s birthday cake from the freezer. 

You were up all night baking it for him. Sunghoon told you to not worry about his birthday, that since he has eternity his birthday is just another regular day. But you didn’t share that opinion. 

It’s the first birthday you were spending with him, due to the unfortunate fact that Dorian’s stupid ass was causing problems and by the time everything was over, Sunghoon’s birthday was past. 

You pulled the blue and white cake from the freezer, carefully setting it on the crystal cake stand on your kitchen table. 

The coffee pot buzzed to show it was ready. You grabbed Sunghoon and your coffee cups from the cabinet, pouring coffee into your cup first, knowing Sunghoon would wake up at any minute at the smell of the coffee. 

You place cream and sugar into your cup and mix it with the coffee then sit down at the table, placing the cup to your lips, feeling the warmth. 

You took a few sips before looking around the empty kitchen and living room. 

After the ending of Dorian, one by one the pack members moved back into their own homes, except, of course, you and Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon and Jake shared an apartment before you and __ returned to them. So once it was time to leave the safe house, Sunghoon left the apartment to Jake and his mate. 

Sunghoon and you decided to buy this farmhouse outside of the city. You weren’t a city girl and Sunghoon was okay being wherever you were. So the farmhouse it was. It also made sense to live here, it made it easier for you to practice your magic peacefully without having to watch your back. 

You glanced at the photos of you and your vampire that filled the walls of the home along with bookshelves for your magical books of spells and all your witchy knickknacks. One family photo of the pack hung above the fireplace, everyone was in a group hug with massive smiles on their faces. It was one of your favorite photos. 

You took more sips of your coffee, wondering when your pretty vampire would rise from his coffin. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something fall outside through the window. 

You quickly glance up, your mouth forming into a smile. You finished the rest of your coffee, jumped from your chair, and rushed back to the bedroom. 

Your birthday plan for your vampire was to wait for him to wake up, share some coffee and kisses as you give him his cake and sing him his birthday song then spend the rest of the day doing whatever he’d liked. But now everything changed and it felt like fate. 

Sunghoon was still sleeping in the same position as earlier, which made it perfect for you. 

You knelt beside the bed, brushing your fingers against his cheek. 

Sunghoon melted at your touch, shifting his face slightly up and more into your hand. His eyes softly fluttered open, and then slowly closed again. You could tell he was practically still asleep. 

“Good morning, my love,” you whispered, rubbing your thumb over his jawline, “Time to get up.” 

Sunghoon softly groaned, shoving his face into the pillow. 

You rolled your eyes. You should have known he was going to be stubborn. 

“Get up bloodsucker, you’re burning daylight.” 

Sunghoon groaned again into the pillow, “Don’t want to.” 

“Come onnnnnn,” you said shaking his shoulders, “You can sleep when you’re dead!” 

“I am already dead,” he retorted, “Leave me alone.” 

You sighed, having to go to your last resort. You didn’t want to spoil what was happening, but you knew it was the only way, “It’s snowing outside.” 

And that’s all it took for him to climb out of bed and rush to the closet to change, “Well shit you should have said that earlier.” 

—

You followed behind Sunghoon as he ran out the front door, jumped off the porch, and ran through the snow. 

You wrapped your cardigan tightly around you, watching how happy your vampire was as he fell into the snow. 

You loved him. Oh god, you loved him and his beautiful smile. 

Sunghoon sat up in the snow, waving to you to join him. 

You carefully made your way down the steps, seeing that they iced over during the night. 

The way Sunghoon was sitting in the snow reminded you of a penguin. You always swore he had to have been a penguin in his past life. 

Sunghoon held his hand up, “Wait!” 

You stopped walking, raising a brow at him, “Yes?”

He pulled his phone from his pocket, “You look so beautiful with the snow falling into your hair, I need a photo of it.” 

“Hurry up, I’m freezing and want to go back inside.” 

You posed for the photo, waiting patiently for him to close his phone back into his pocket. 

He held his hands out to you, “Help me up.” 

You groaned as you reached your hands for his, only to be betrayed in the end. 

Sunghoon’s smile grew wide as he gripped your hands and pulled you down to him, rolling you over into the snow. 

“Sunghoon! Goddamnit!” You snapped, tossing snow at him. 

Sunghoon grabbed the hems of your cardigan and pulled you in for a quick kiss. His cold nose brushed against your skin, “Lighten up hex girl, it’s the first snow of winter.” 

You glared at him but decided to let it go since he was the birthday boy. 

As the sun rose more and the snow slowly stopped falling from the sky, the reflection of the light hit the large pond, catching your attention. 

You glanced behind your mate, seeing the pond completely frozen over the night. 

You smiled, happy that this day kept getting better. 

“Baby, the pond is frozen over.” 

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate to run back inside the house to grab his ice skates. 

—

You sat on the porch with another cup of coffee as you watched him skate. 

The pure joy on his face as he danced away on the ice. 

When the two of you picked out this farmhouse, the first thing Sunghoon mentioned was how excited he’d be once the pond froze over so he could skate. You bought him a pair of skates after that. 

You check the time on your phone, it’s almost eleven a.m. Sunghoon hasn’t drank yet today, and you still wanted to give him his cake. 

“My love!” You called for him, watching as he came to a spot. 

“Yes, my princess?” he yelled back. 

“It’s time to drink, come inside and warm up!” 

Sunghoon pouted but nodded. He knew if he didn’t listen, you would continue until he did. 

Sunghoon skated to the edge of the pond carefully stepping off the ice and into the snow, sitting down on the bench he placed there to switch out of his skates. 

While Sunghoon was busy changing back into his normal shoes, you quickly rushed inside the house. Placing the candles on the cake, lighting them with a snap of your fingers, and picking up the cake stand carefully. 

You grabbed a blood bag from the fridge on the way back out of the kitchen. 

Sunghoon stood from the bench and turned to see you standing on the porch with a cake and blood bag. What a beautiful combination. 

Sunghoon scoffed and smirked, shoving his free hand into his pocket and he walked over to you. 

Sunghoon hated celebrating his birthday. It was just another day for him. When you get to live forever, birthdays aren’t something to celebrate anymore. 

He couldn’t help but stare at you. His heart raced faster at your beautiful smile. God, he was so lucky. You made living for eternity so worth it. 

Sunghoon carefully walked up the steps, “I told you we didn’t need to celebrate my birthday,” he teased. 

You handed him his blood bag, “It’s our first time getting to celebrate it as a couple, let me have this bloodsucker.”

Sunghoon mimicked you, earning him your death glare. 

He smiled at you as he took the top off the bag and took a few sips of the blood, his eyes going back to the cake, “Don’t you know vampires don’t eat?” 

You rolled your eyes, letting out a groan, “God you fucking annoy me.” His chuckle filled your ears, “You guys CAN but it just doesn’t do it like blood does. Just see this as a small snack.” 

Sunghoon raised his brows at you, “That’s a massive cake, what’s small about it?” 

“Oh my god just finished your blood so you can blow out the candles and make a wish. Shit, you piss me off, bloodsucker.” 

“Woah, hold it there hex girl, I am the birthday boy, remember?” 

Sunghoon loved teasing you and wanted to continue, but decided to stop for now. 

He set his skates down on the porch and quickly sipped the rest of the blood, tossing the empty bag into the outside trash can. 

“Okay, I am ready to blow out the candles.” 

You smiled brightly, singing him a happy birthday, “Now make a wish!” 

Sunghoon didn’t even have to make a wish, he already had everything he needed. 

He blew the candles out, then took the cake stand from your hands. 

“Did you make a wish?” You asked, watching as he set the cake down on the outside table, “Tell me what you wished for!” 

Sunghoon wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body against his, leaving no space between. 

“Baby, I don’t need to make any wishes when you’re right here with me already.” 

You pouted your lips at him, “Awe that’s so sweet and super fucking gross.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, “You are so annoying, this is why witches and vampires don’t get along.” 

“Yet you’re stuck with me anyways.” You sang. 

Sunghoon nodded, carefully brushing your bangs out of your face, “And I am so thankful that I am.” 

Sunghoon wouldn’t know what he would have done if something happened to you a year ago. The time he spent alone when Dorian stole you from his side was a literal hell. He never wanted to experience that again. 

The pain he had to feel every single day. The sleepless nights. The endless thoughts of what he would do if you never returned to him or worse, if Dorian took you from him permanently. 

He stared deeply into your doe eyes, swearing he wouldn’t ever let anyone touch you again. He would kill anyone who would warm you again. 

Sunghoon took your chin between his fingers and lifted your face for a kiss. You tighten your arms around him as you softly kiss him back. 

You felt something wet drop on your cheek, looking up at the sky, “It’s snowing again.” 

Sunghoon also glanced up, his wide smile that showed off his natural fangs returning, “It’s like it’s snowing just for me.” 

You cupped his face, forcing him to look back at you, “Happy birthday, my sweet vampire, I love you so much.” 

Sunghoon planted a kiss on your forehead, squeezing you tightly, “I love you so much more.” 

If every birthday was like this for the rest of eternity, Sunghoon wouldn’t mind celebrating it every year with you again and again. 

#myiceprince #sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #reader x sunghoon #reader x enhypen #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #established relationship #youcompleteme #happy birthday sunghoon 🥹 #yeonzzzn writing

[maelovescashew]

I hate you- ✄ Ellie Williams

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 — ellie x enemy!reader

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 — you and ellie HATED each other. well… you thought you did until something snapped inside of ellie.

𝗖𝗪 — smut (mdni), angst, fluff at end. Cursing, violence, threats, strap-on usage, oral (r! receiving), tit play, nipple play, pet names instead of y/n. LMK IF I MISSED ANYTHING

A/N — this is my first piece so bare with me here but i hope you guys like it!

You and Ellie HATED each other. Well you hated her, you thought she was annoying and rude.

It was a Friday night, and you were listening to some music on your phone. You were really sad, so you were listening to some sad/breakup songs by kehlani, your favorite artist. Then, you heard a loud bang on your front door.

You slowly opened it, hoping there wasnt a murderer on the other side. It was just your friend Dina.

“DINA!! I thought you were a serial killer! What the hell??” You exclaimed in annoyance and hands still shaking from the loud noise. tears still running down your cheeks from being sad earlier.

“Whats wrong? Why were you crying?” She asks, truly concerned, especially because your eyes were 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿 red.

“‘S nothing” you said. you knew it was not ‘nothing’. you felt your whole life falling apart and you were getting mad as you started to realize that you had feelings for ellie.

“Fucking liar.” She said walking past you, and into your apartment. “I came to tell you to get ready because we’re going to a party!” She said, seemingly excited.

You HATED parties. The drinks? Awful. The people? Awful. The smell? Awful. Ellie being there? Awful? You knew you had to go because Dina was gonna end up bribing you anyways so you agreed.

��Fine. Whatever.” You said, clearly annoyed that your crying session was rudely interrupted by her loud ass banging.

“Great! Wear something hot!” She excitedly said as she sat down on your couch. You wore a short white dress, tight around your torso. It perfectly showed your boobs, showed off your curves, and complemented your ass. You looked amazing and no one could say you didn’t, no matter how hard they had tried.

You finished up your hair, and got your bag ready. “‘Kay, ‘M ready.” You said to Dina who was still watching TV on your couch.

“Shit, you look hot.” Dina complemented as you two walked out the door. You were not excited for this party. No matter how hard you tried to be. And the thought of Ellie being there seriously haunted you.

You finally arrived at the party and you already wanted to leave. Nonetheless you walked in right behind Dina. Luckily, you had some weed tucked into your dress, knowing you don’t drink at these parties since the alcohol is really bad. You sat down on the couch and took the joint from the top of your dress.

You lit the joint and took a long drag. You knew it was gonna be a tuff night but you had to relax a bit. Then, your eyes met emerald green ones. It was Ellie Williams. You were in love with her hated her.

She looked amazing. A black white wife beater that really showed her muscles. Her short hair tamed down and swept at the front. Her black skinny jeans and converse.

Jesse came in next to her, Dinas boyfriend. Dina made way to them so she could steal Jesse. But you were super nervous as you saw Ellie making her way towards you.

She sat down next to you and you turned red. Thank God for the lights because without them, she would’ve seen and made fun of you.

“Someone’s trying to calm down” She says mockingly. She really liked you but teasing you was the only way to get your attention. Suddenly, you felt her hand snatch the joint from yours, a shocked look appearing on your face.

“Hey what the hell?! I was smoking that!!” Your voice was filled with anger especially with the shitty night you’ve been having.

“I know. Don’t be so angry princess. Just wanted a hit.” Ellie said, voice low and raspy. It was so hot annoying.

“Fuck off! Im so tired of you and everyone taking everything from me! Im done playing your stupid games I fucking hate you!!” You yelled at her and your friends turned their heads to look at you.

Ellies face was coded with shock. She giggled to make herself seem tuff even though she felt terrible for it.

“I SWEAR IF YOU DONT STOP IM GONNA SCREAM AT THE TOP OF MY LUN-“ Your voice was cut off by the sound of what she was about to say next.

“You already are. Relax. Take your joint back and calm down” She handed your joint back to you and you angrily snatched it, taking a drag.

“Whats got you all worked up, hm? Tired of seeing my pretty face?” She teased and you were fuming. You stood up to walk to the bathroom and cry. You looked so beautiful to Ellie it made her wet. And you were tired of seeing her pretty face. It’s all you could think about.

She had the sudden courage from being high and pulled your arm before you could walk away.

“Ellie what the hel-“ Before you could finish she pulled you down onto her lap, clit rubbing against her strap, under her jeans. You whimpered softly at the feeling, looking into her eyes. She placed both hands on your cheeks and kissed you deeply.

You gasped softly from shock and she took the chance to slip her tongue into your mouth. You moan softly into the kiss. You’ve wanted this to happen for longer than you thought. You two made out for what seemed like hours when it was only 5 minutes.

You finally pulled away for air, lips plump and wet. “Ellie… what was that?” You asked, still in shock from what just happened.

“I uh- shit. You probably hate me even more now, huh princess?” Princess. You said you hated that name when in reality, it had an effect on you. Something you couldn’t explain.

“Uh… can you take me home?” You asked, sweetly, a hint of annoyance in your voice. She seemed disappointed and happy at the same time. Happy that you asked her to take you home. Disappointed that you couldn’t even specify whether you hated her or not. It hit her and it hit her hard.

She ended up agreeing and driving you to your apartment. You don’t know how the hell you ended up stumbling into your apartment with her lips on yours.

She pushed you up against the door and her lips found your neck. “Ellie, fuck.” You said as she kissed your neck. “I don’t like your attitude baby. Whats the matter?” She said in between the kisses. You couldn’t help but grip her hair.

Her hands found your dress and she wanted to pull it down so badly. “You look so good tonight baby. Did you think anyone could resist you, hm?” She said as she slowly pulled your dress down.

You couldn’t help but moan. You had no words but you knew it felt so good. She started to play with your boobs with both of her hands and knead them roughly. It made you grip her hair even tighter. She started to bite and suck spots on your neck, leaving marks. She soothed over the spots with her tongue. It hurt but it felt so good.

She picked you up from the bottom of your thighs and carried you to your room. Her lips never left your neck and you had no idea how to feel in that moment.

“Ellie.. I need you, please?” You said with desperation in your voice. You knew you’ve always needed this but you didn’t know how badly you needed it.

“You need me baby, hm? Need me to get rid of that attitude princess?” She said as she laid you down on your bed. “Gonna make you feel so good.” She said before climbing on top of you and kissing you again.

Suddenly you saw her pulling your pink lace panties down, revealing the wet spot that had been growing on them.

“I got you soaked babe?” She placed her finger between your folds, collecting the wetness before replacing it with her tongue.

“I need you els… mmh don’t tease.” You basically moaned out. She loved how she was already making you feel. Hearing her name from your mouth like that drove her crazy.

She teased your clit with her tongue, making shapes with it. You moaned at the feeling. You wanted more but you were too stressed to beg for it.

“I’ve wanted to taste you forever. Tastes so good baby.” She continues to lick and suck on your clit, causing pornographic moans to spill out of your mouth. Your walls clenched from nothing and Ellie could see it. She inserted her tongue into you and it felt so good you could scream.

“Gonna cum on my face baby? I can feel it.” She teased and sucked on your clit harder. You felt it coming and there was a knot in your stomach.

“Gonna cum els.. I- fuck” The knot in your stomach snapped and your orgasm washed over you. Ellie fucked you through it, tongue lapping up all of your juices.

“You want more baby?” She asked and you nodded pathetically. She kissed you and you tasted yourself on her tongue. She then took of her jeans, revealing a black strap. Your mouth opened slightly, shocked at the sight in front of you.

She made her way over to you and gripped your hips tightly, pulling you to the edge of the bed. She swiped the strap between your folds, lubing itself up. You moaned softly at the contact.

She then inserted your cunt with no warning and you gasped softly. She slowly started moving her hips and you moaned. The strap was moving against her clit as she sped up. Your moans grew louder as she thrusted into you.

“You just needed me to fuck the attitude outta you, hm baby?” Ellie said as she went faster into your cunt.

“N-needed it s-so bad els.” You managed to stutter out. It was so hard to talk because of the overwhelming pleasure that was building up inside of you.

She continued to fill you up as she groaned every time the strap rubbed her clit. Your moans grew louder as you felt your second orgasm building up.

The strap continued to crush your g-spot over and over. It was like nothing you had ever experienced. It even made you see stars.

“Fuck ellie… ‘M gonna- im gonna…” You moaned out before you came all over her thighs and your sheets.

She prolonged your orgasm and pulled out. “You did so good for me baby.” She said as she removed the strap on and went to the bathroom.

You whined as she left and she came back with a wet towel. She carefully cleaned you up. You hissed when the towel met your achey cunt.

“I know, its okay im almost done.” Ellie said. It calmed you down as she cleaned you up. She then laid down next to you. She cuddled you and started to speak.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. Teasing you was the only way I could get your attention. ‘M sorry.” She said as she stroked your hair lovingly.

“Its okay els. I’ve wanted this for a long time too.” You say as you begin to close your eyes. You were exhausted and being with Ellie calmed you down.

“Goodnight baby.” She said as she kissed your forehead and turned off the lamp next to your bed. You fell asleep in her arms and you had the best sleep of the year.

a/n again: sorry this is ass but this is my first time writing so😭

#ellie williams #ellie x you #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou part 2 #tlou smut #enemies to lovers #smut #angst #ellie williams angst #fluff #ellie williams fluff

[wednesdaythesecond]

🕯

🕯 - Share a scene in your latest WIP

okay so here's a scene from my most recent fic! it takes place at Warped Tour 2005 where Pete's a vampire, so he thinks Mikey's a vampire and Mikey has fucked up eating habits so he thinks Pete does too <3

warnings for like. every disorder behaviour on earth. like just all of them. vomiting, self hatred, etc. all of them.

Mikey's perspective, third person

Once Mikey closes the bathroom door behind him, he locks the door and leans against it. Taking a shaky breath to calm himself, Mikey shifts his clothes to one hand and pushes his fingers into his hip, biting back a noise of pain. He didn’t think he’d exercised that much but his joints are obviously telling him otherwise, if the stabbing pain in his leg is any metric to go by.

Mikey dumps his things on the bathroom counter and yanks his jeans down so he can press his fingers in harder, deeper into the purpling bruises on his hip. It hurts like hell, bad enough that tears spring to his eyes and he has to bite his lip to keep from whimpering, but Mikey savours the pain. It means he’s getting somewhere, that even if he can't see the calories burning, he’s making progress. 

Touring is great, amazing even but Mikey is desperate for a scale or even just enough time alone in a bathroom to do a full body check or purge. It’s so hard to get anytime to check his progress while living on a bus with a bunch of other guys, especially when Gerard is determined to ruin everything Mikey’s worked for. Mikey loves his brother, so much, more than anything even, but Gerard can be so fucking annoying sometimes, especially about Mikey’s health. As if he’s not destroying himself too.

But Gerard’s not here right now. Mikey’s alone in his hotel room, alone with Pete, who is just as fucked up as he is. Maybe not as skinny, but as willing to get there as Mikey was when he first started. Maybe even more. It took years for Mikey to stop digesting his birthday cakes while Pete hadn’t even tasted cake since his eating disorder started. It’s impressive and Mikey can practically feel the hooks of jealousy catching in his chest but this is what he wanted. Mikey wanted the competition, the motivation, that little extra something he’s needed to really push himself. 

This is good for you, Mikey reminds himself. This is going to help you and all of those assholes on Myspace will finally shut up about your stupid fat thighs.

After changing out of his jeans and hoodie, Mikey decides to forgo his usual pajamas and pulls on a too-big t-shirt and boxers. It shows off way more skin that he’s comfortable with people seeing, but he doesn’t want to be comfortable. Mikey wants Pete to tear into him, to tell him whatever magic words William told Pete to get him to give up pizza and cake and eating in public at all. Getting every bit of fat in his slightly pixelated mirror selfies pointed out by strangers on the internet is all good and well, but it’s not the same as someone in real life seeing and criticizing all of his flaws. 

Shivering slightly with so much skin exposed to the cold bathroom, Mikey runs through the rest of his bedtime routine and spends way too long trying to brush out as much of the hairspray out of his hair as he can and trying to get the back to lie flat. He’s being a freak, Mikey knows that, but his obsessive need to control everything he can has taken over. Plus this will be the most skin Mikey’s shown someone other than an anonymous pro ana forum in years and that’s more than a little nerve wracking. 

He sweeps his bangs off his face and starts running his fingers through the back of his hair before pulling his hands away. That’s fine, that’s enough, you’re fine. Pete’s not going to be looking at your hair when he sees the fat under your arms or thighs. After taking one last look in the mirror, Mikey opens the bathroom door and shuts off the light behind him. 

“Hey,” he says tentatively, hand on the door frame.

Just as he suspected, when Pete turns around and looks up from his own bag, his eyes go directly to Mikey’s bare thighs. “Hey,” Pete says, standing up and not looking away from the space between the bottom of Mikey’s boxers and the tops of his knees.

Now that he’s standing up, Mikey can see that Pete’s shirtless and he can feel heat creeping up his cheeks. Pete’s all cool brown skin with a few tattoos over lean muscle. The hint of another tattoo peeks over the waistband of his pants. Pete’s not as skinny as Mikey is, but he’s well on his way there. And he’s seriously hot, Mikey thinks as his eyes back up Pete’s body. 

“So, uh,” Mikey begins, mouth slightly drier than normal. He swallows and steps into the pose he usually takes his body check pictures in; one hand on his hip, feet shoulder width apart and shoulders back. “What do you think?”

Pete’s head jerks up and his eyes meet Mikey’s. “What?” 

“What do you think?” Mikey repeats, pushing his hair out of his face and gesturing to his body with both hands. 

“Uh…” Pete laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow, uh… that’s- you’re not messing around, huh?”

“Nope,” Mikey says, taking a few steps closer so he’s in better lighting. “C’mon, be honest.” 

“Okay, um…” Pete’s eyes travel over the many bruises on Mikey’s legs before finally asking, “How do you get all these bruises?”

“I don’t know, life?” he says with a shrug. “I bruise really easily.” This isn’t how Mikey wanted this conversation to go, Pete’s supposed to point out all the fat on his body, not look at him like he’s… like he’s something worth looking at.

“Huh,” Pete says simply, taking in every visible inch of Mikey’s body. 

“So?” Mikey prompts, adjusting his glasses. “C’mon, you can be as mean as you want, I can take it.” 

Pete tears his eyes away from Mikey’s thighs. “You want me to be mean about what I think about… your body?”

Mikey nods. “Brutal honesty,” he supplies, smoothing out the ratty old Motörhead t-shirt he stole from Gerard.

After holding Mikey’s gaze for a few moments, Pete laughs and looks away. “I’m not drunk enough for this.”

#my writing #regular and normal eating habits #ask game #ask and ye shall recieve #petekey #fucked up petekey #dddne #ed not ed sheeran

[spirit-x-ing]

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 … the outside 

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. Lorelai Lee ( She knows she has a middle name she doesn't remember what it is. )

𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. hazel-blue/green. 

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞 / 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. dark brown short — bangs, softly curled slightly around shoulder length, likes to pick it up in ponytails and buns

𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭. 5 ’ 6 1/2 ” 

𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞. prefers 50's style dresses, 60's Rockabilly Style, Will wear Skinny Jeans, Flats, Shorts when she knows she going to be physically active. Overall a vintage look. 

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. eyes, lips, & hair

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 … the inside 

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬. feeling trapped, slightly claustrophobic, losing someone she cares about, watching loved ones die, not being able to save innocent children and animals, hates feeling emotionally vulnerable, rejection, fears stronger entities to an extent, and prolonged physical pain. 

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞. stealing really hard things, being mischievous with her abilities, scaring others out of boredom or revenge, indulging in food or drink, and knowing she can't really die or gain weight from it. 

𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐯𝐞. carelessness, being threatened, being underestimated, being forced to do something she really doesn't want to do, someone else eating her favorite foods, nitpicking over stupid stuff

𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞. Be an excellent Warden, fight a variety of baddies, help save a good amount of souls, and experience how it is to have a normal life. ( she wants to know how it feels to have a family, even though she knows the pain and responsibilities it comes with )

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 … thoughts 

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩. the bathroom then breakfast ( what do I want to eat this morning? ) 

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭. my life is a never-ending story, souls are constantly coming and going, how many realities are there? how many dimensions/layers are really in the veil? I'm pretty sure there were more spirits on this planet than there were living ones. 

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐝. I hope it's safe enough to sleep here. I hope no shit wakes me up. How much money do I have left in my account?

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. Charisma. Whether she has to be the Law Enforcement/ Good Guy or the Bad Guy in a situation, her charismatic nature makes hanging around her and the situation overall more endearing. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 … what’s better 

𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐯𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬. single.  

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐎𝐑 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬. brains. 

𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐎𝐑 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐬. cats... AND dogs, all animals, except flies and mosquitoes.

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 … do you 

𝐥𝐢𝐞. once and a while, mostly white lies, or to save herself

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. yes 

𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. yes 

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞. yes but knows the odds are likely they will either die or grow old while she stays in her prime ( young. ) She knows many others had various lovers/spouses, children she's not sure if she's ready to experience that hardship yet. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 … ever been 

𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞. yes 

𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬. yes 

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧. usually illusion and deception basis for Warden's work. Though never to fit in. 

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 … favorites 

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. blush 

𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥. butterflies, corvids, cats . 

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞. Singing in the Rain ( 1952 ) The Birds ( 1963 ) Poltergeist ( 1982 ). 

𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. Truth or Dare ( because it's the easiest game when you're mostly truthful and can do most dares XD )

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 … age 

𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞. August 22, 1910 ( Day??? Psh! ) 

𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞. 113 . 

𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲. thirty-eight ( don't ask )

𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫. 26 + she's not attracted to anyone that is seemingly so YOUNG! Though overall it is maturity level that matters to her.  

𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 … in person 

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. smart, loyal, not boring, someone who is wise and accepting of who & what she is, flaws included, someone who is more tolerable and forgiving, ( at least when it comes to her :P ) Honestly someone who is a bit more grounded. 

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. blue. 

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. doesn't have a strong preference 

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫. just be content in one's presence, and do stupid or crazy things together, it's all about sharing a variety of experiences with one another. 

𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 … 

’ 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞: — knowing my efforts helped in some way ’ 

’ 𝐢 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥: — invisible. ’ 

’ 𝐢 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞: — sorrow and pain ’ 

’ 𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬: — my loved ones and a sense of normalcy ’ 

’ 𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡: — to live life to its fullest so that I'm more than ready to move on ’

TAGGED: @arkhampsych ( Thanks! :) )

TAGGING: @magaprima | @myersbprd | @therelentless | @spinxeret | @archerwhiterp

#SCCD #// I know my spacing is all wrong #BUT I'm too lazy to fix it #:/ sigh #///

[jazwritesalot]

Mocha Choco Latte - Chapter 3: Caramel Iced Coffee

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou/Bakugou Katsuki, KiriBaku Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia Rating: Teen & Up Audiences Current Word Count: 21,000 Tags: Aged-Up Characters, AU- College/University, AU- No Quirks, AU- Coffee Shops & Cafes, Barista Bakugou, Actor Kirishima, slow burn, background IzuOcha, mentions of Bakusquad, rated for language, Bakugou Katsuki swears a lot, Bakugou Katsuki is bad at feelings, drinking, house parties

Link to AO3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Alternatively titled: Katsuki has an idea and all hell breaks loose

The perfect opportunity appeared a few weeks later during the middle of his Thursday night shift. Sugar Rush was decently busy thanks to it being midterms, and Katsuki was seething. He didn’t mind how fast-paced it was—he actually preferred to be doing something rather than loitering around. What he was pissed about, however, was that Kaminari was supposed to be here to run the register for him while he ran the front line, but he was nowhere to be seen, which left Katsuki scrambling between the register, making the drinks, and running orders out to the tables while Izuku kept up with the food orders by himself in the kitchen. He had just dropped off a couple of teas to the small green-haired girl and large bald guy studying at the table by the windows when the bell at the door chimed again, making him grit his teeth in frustration. He hoped, for Kaminari’s sake, that it was him walking through that door, and not another customer. He took a grounding breath before turning around and nearly jumped out of his own skin when he took in who was standing before him. It was Kirishima—of course it was Kirishima—but that wasn’t what startled him. No, it was how devastatingly handsome he looked. The tacky costume he usually adorned was traded in for a pair of distressed black skinny jeans that were cuffed above a pair of faded and scuffed Docs, a black and red plaid button down, and a dark-wash denim jacket that was littered with various patches. What really took the cake, however, was the lack of the usual spikes; his hair reached to his shoulders, the strands and bangs in the front framing his face while the rest was neatly tucked into a black beanie.

Katuski was startled and floundering for words when Kirishima looked up from his phone and gave him a blinding smile. 

“Dude! I was hoping you would be working tonight,” he grinned, which left Katsuki reeling. He had so many questions for him, the top two being why did he never message him and why did he want Katsuki to be working today in particular. 

“You don’t look as shitty as usual today. I’m impressed,” is what came out of his mouth instead, and he cringed. Smooth Katsuki. Real smooth. A high-pitched yell of ‘you can’t say that, Kacchan!’ came from the kitchen, but Katuski chose to ignore it. There were more important matters at stake than what stupid Deku had to say. Kirishima blinked owlishly at him before busting out into a loud and boisterous laugh that made Katsuki want to further crawl into the grave he was digging himself. 

“Thanks man! I actually tried today.” As his eyes swept over the menu, Katuski could feel his heart racing. This was what a heart attack felt like, wasn’t it? But this was ridiculous—he still was slightly angry with him for ignoring him for the past few weeks. He shouldn’t be standing behind the counter like a flustered school boy, waiting to confess his love to the man of his dreams. That wasn’t Bakugou Katsuki. Never has been, never will be. 

“What can I get for you?” he finally managed to ask, trying to appear nonchalant, though perfectly content with waiting on him for the rest of the night. Screw all of the other extras who needed food. They could wait. 

“I think I would like to do that American style breakfast you guys have. The one with the scrambled eggs. Bacon and sausage please. Meat is my favorite!” he exclaimed and Katsuki fought the urge to roll his eyes. Of course he would be a meathead both figuratively and literally. “And for the drink, I’d like a large caramel iced coffee. Need that caffeine, ya know?” His wide grin was contagious, a small smirk playing on Katsuki’s lips as he completed the transaction.

“Go take a seat. I’ll bring you your food and drink when it’s done,” he said, handing the cash card back to Kirishima. 

“Sounds like a plan, my man! I can’t wait!” He popped his headphones in and took off to find a corner seat by the windows, and Katsuki was finally able to release the deep breath he had been holding. Why was it so hard for him to stay mad at this literal ball of sunshine? It just wasn’t fair.

“Here you go, Nerd. It’s for Kirishima andI will be the one to take his food out to him this time, got it?” Katsuki threatened as he handed the order ticket over to Izuku. 

“Kacchan, you need to be nice to him. One of these days he isn’t going to be so welcoming to you calling him ‘Shitty Hair,’” he warned, taking the ticket from Katsuki. 

“Iam being nice! I said he looked less shitty today!”

“Oh my God, you can’t just tell people they look shitty at all! What is wrong with you?” Katsuki scoffed at him and grabbed the large glass for the drink, but he knew that his cheeks were burning in embarrassment.

“Why are you turning red? It’s not like you… oh holy shit. You’re trying to flirt with him, aren’t you?” Izuku exclaimed and Katsuki whipped around, baring his teeth at him and glaring. 

“Shut up! Do you want the whole cafe to hear you?” Katuski was thankful Kaminari was late, because he would have a field day with this. He was also thankful for the lull in the influx of customers. 

“This is just so totally you, Kacchan,” Deku laughed as he worked on the food, the bacon sizzling on the stovetop. “You are totally going about this the wrong way, though.”

“Oh really? And what would be the right way, Mr. I-Cried-About-Cats-to-My-Girlfriend?” Katsuki took a smug pleasure in Deku’s face flaming bright red at the call out. 

“H-hey! This isn’t about me right now!” he stuttered out. “This is about you and your inability to convey your emotions to others in a normal way.”

“Oh yeah? And what should I do then?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe start by not scowling at the man! I honestly don’t think it would kill you to smile at him. Hell, it may even make his day.” 

“Okay, fine. I’ll try it your way, you heathen,” Katsuki grumbled as he filled the glass with the caramel syrup, ice cubes, and chilled coffee. He may have been slightly aggressive with his stirring of the milk, but no one would be able to prove it. He was just adding a small hill of whipped cream and some caramel syrup to the glass to finish the drink off when the front door flew open. 

“Oh my God, sorry I’m late!” Kaminari announced to the entire cafe and Katsuki ground his teeth in frustration. He was only half an hour late. Jackass. “You wouldn’t believe how long the customer at my last job was talking to me for. You would think that a man who spends his entire day talking to people on the radio would not want to talk to any more people than necessary, but boy was I wrong. Not that I’m complaining though—dude is chill as hell.” He was steps away from the drink bar, from clocking in for his shift, when his attention was drawn to the redhead sitting at the window. A wide grin split his face and he threw his bag behind the counter and bounded over to him, taking the cup from Katsuki as he was on his way to deliver it to Kirishima, and slammed his palms on the table to get his attention, which worked flawlessly as the other jumped, ripping his headphones out of his ears before smiling wide at him, the toothy grin blinding Katsuki from his place behind the counter as he seethed, glaring daggers at the back of the blond’s head.  

“Denki! My man! How are you doing?” Kirishima asked, standing and pulling the smaller man in for a bear hug after taking the drink from him.  

“Been doing great! You know, gotta make that money—I’ve been working nonstop between here and Chargebolt’s, with the occasional show thrown in. Speaking of,” he smiled wide, “there’s a show tonight at Tape Deck. I think it would be perfect if the birthday boy were to grace it with his presence.” Wait a second—it was Kirishima’s birthday? 

“I don’t know, man. It’s been ages since I’ve been to a show,” Kirishima admitted with a bashful smile, scratching the back of his neck. 

“All the more reason for you to come! It will be great—I’ll even do a special song just for you!” 

“I’ll think about it. What’s the address again? It’s been too long.” Katsuki knew he shouldn’t be eavesdropping—it was wrong—but he couldn’t help but to scribble the address that the idiot spewed off onto a piece of receipt paper before stuffing it in his apron pocket. It wasn’t his fault that Kaminari talked for the whole cafe to hear. And it wouldn’t be crazy for him to debate going to the house party himself, not that house parties were his thing, of course. 

“Happy Birthday again, man! I better get back to work before Blasty over there rips my head off. I can already feel his eyes drilling a hole in the back of my head. Hopefully see you tonight!” he called and jogged over to the make line. 

“It’s about damn time you show up, Spark Plug,” he grouched as Kaminari finally got his apron on and settled behind the register. 

“Oh don’t get your panties in a twist, Bakugou. You could run this place with your eyes closed without my help.”

“Just because I could doesn’t mean Iwant to. How do you even have a job still? You’re always late.”  

“It’s because I’m Sato’s favorite,” he grinned. Katuski was trying his hardest to not roll his eyes, but by god was it hard. Kaminari made his blood boil on a good day. Most others he was just insufferable. He took a deep breath and decided to be the bigger man by ignoring Kaminari’s jabs and antics; he was pretty sure that if he got into a fight with the Annoyance, Sato could and would punish him by making him work more shifts with him. And that was something he would rather not deal with, thank you very much. His salvation from Dunce Face came by Deku announcing the order was up. He quickly swiped it from the window with a pointed look at Kaminari, who just gave him a sly grin before making a quick stop at the pastry case, discreetly choosing one—a cinnamon bun—to add to the order. When Katsuki arrived at the table, Kirishima didn’t even notice he was there at first. He was focused on his textbook, a small frown marring his face as he tapped out a beat against the table. Normally, Katsuki would just place the plate of food on the table where there was free space, but the idiot had study materials strewn out about the entire surface of the table. He awkwardly cleared his throat, causing Kirishima to startle and look up at him, pulling out one of his headphones as he scrambled to make room on the table for the food. 

“Thanks man! Sorry about the mess. You can put that here,” he laughed, finally making a small space for the plate. He looked between the cinnamon bun and Katsuki with a confused pout that shouldn’t be as cute as it was. 

“Heard the loudmouth say it was your birthday. It’s on the house,” he grumbled out, averting his gaze as Kirishima let out a blinding smile. Stupid, overly cute actor. 

“You didn’t have to do that! But thanks a lot, man. I really appreciate it.” Katsuki grunted and scratched at the back of his neck, not really knowing what more he should say. Should he just directly ask him why he had been ignoring him, or would that be too blunt to do to someone on their birthday? He wasn’t sure what type of magic this man had, but his earlier irritation with him seemed to melt away. 

“You know, I’m glad you’re the one who brought me my food this time,” Kirishima snickered as he took a bite of one of the sausages, effectively halting Katsuki’s current train of thought. He was confused—he ignored him but was happy to see him? 

“That other employee, Midoriya I think his name is,” he continued around his food, “he’s a sweet guy and all, but he is very intense. He honestly freaks me out a bit. And, you know, I appreciate you giving me his number and all that, but he is most definitely not my type,” he laughed. Of course Deku had to come in and screw stuff up for him. That stupid, fanboy of a nerd—wait what did he just say??

“Hah?” he questioned eloquently. “The hell you just say, Shitty Hair?” He had to be imagining things, right? There was no way that he said he gave Kirishima Deku’s number.

“That you gave me Midoriya’s number? A couple weeks ago, you wrote his number on my drink.” Kirishima was looking at Katsuki like he grew a second head, which was about how he felt right now. 

“No I didn’t! Why in the hell would I give you that shitty nerd’s phone number?” he asked, trying to mask his panic with indifference. 

“Uh, hate to break it to you man, but you totally did. Here, I took a picture of the cup as proof,” he laughed, handing his phone over. Katsuki zoomed in on the picture of the drink and he felt his heart plummet. Staring back at him was Deku’s number—it looked like the last digit had smeared when he had handed the iced drink over those few weeks ago. This was just another reason why he despised that his and Deku’s numbers were only one digit apart from one another. 

“I texted expecting to hear back from you, but imagine my surprise when it was the fan from the cafe. I thought I made a mistake, maybe the barista did mean to give me the cook’s number, but then later he was messaging me asking me to text his buddy Kacchan for him. At least, I think that’s what he was asking. The dude seemed pretty drunk. And then whoever I texted seemed pretty pissed off that night, so I guess I had the wrong number?” Katsuki felt his heart fall to his stomach as the implication that he blocked Kirishima caught up with him. “But you know,” the redhead continued, oblivious of the other man’s panic, “if you weren’t meaning to give me his number, then whose number were you trying to give me?” Kirishima asked with a sly smile as Katsuki wordlessly handed him back the phone. Bakugou looked at him with wide eyes, brain working overtime to try and come up with a response for him.  

“Yo! Kacchan! I could really use your help here!” Kaminari called from the register, unknowingly becoming Katsuki’s savior. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that a small line had formed while he had been in the midst of his gay panic. 

“Oof, looks like things are getting busy for ya. I won’t take up any more of your time. Thanks again for the birthday pastry.” He shot him one more smile before popping his headphones back in, and Katsuki took that as his cue to turn tail, pushing past Kaminari and immersing himself in drink orders to hide his mortification. Of all the stupid things he had done in his life—not that there were many of them—this one had to take the cake. He could feel Deku’s eyes boring holes into the back of his neck, but now was not the time for them to discuss what happened. Not with Dunce Face within hearing distance. He let his mind float away as he fell into the mind-numbing repetitions—ice, coffee, milk, syrup, blend, pour—and before he knew it, the rush was coming to a halt and the customers dwindled down to nothing. 

“What a shift that was, right Kacchan?” Kaminari asked as he stretched his arms above his head, an audible crack filling the air. 

“Quit calling me, Kacchan, moron,” Katsuki grumbled. “Besides, this isn’t even the worst it can get. Just wait until finals week.” As he wiped down the steamer, he glanced out into the lobby, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little disappointed to see that Kirishima had left while they had been busy. But maybe it was better that he left, considering he still hadn’t figured out a way to tell him ‘hey, sorry I was a jackass and blocked you’ without coming off as the world’s biggest asshole. There were a few stragglers left in the lobby, but it looked like they were packing up, which was one less thing for Katsuki to do.

“Hey buddy, do you mind if I dip early?” Dunce Face asked as he leaned against the counter, batting his eyes at him. “I have the show to get ready for tonight and it would be hella cool if you let me go now.” 

“Whatever. It’ll be quicker if it’s just me and Deku closing anyway,” Katsuki grit out. 

“I don’t know if I should be offended or not by that, but you know what? I’m not going to question it. You’re the best Kacchan! See ya!” he laughed, dodging the cleaning rag that Katsuki chucked at him as he clocked out and bolted out the front door. 

“So, Kacchan. What the hell happened earlier? You look like you saw a ghost when you were talking to Kirishima,” Deku asked as he came out of the kitchen to collect the dishes.

“Oh, you know, just came to find out that one, I gave the man the wrong number the last time he was here, and two, when he actually did text me, I cussed him out and blocked him,” Katsuki groaned, leaning his head against the counter. 

“You did what???” Izuku squeaked out, slamming the container on the counter. 

“Oi! Don’t be shrieking at me like a banshee, nerd. You could have told me that you had his number and I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place,” Katsuki snapped back as he bent down to retrieve the rag he threw at Kaminari, tossing it onto the pile of dirty dishes. 

“Uh, I’m pretty sure I told you I would get Kirishima to talk to you, and I did. You were the one to mess it up.”

“No, you were drunk off your ass, so anything you were spouting as you were blubbering on my back was liable to be bullshit and you know it. That wasn’t my first Drunk Deku rodeo.” 

“We’re gonna have to agree to disagree here, Kacchan,” Izuku sighed and returned to collecting the dishes. “I don’t see what the big deal is, though. You have his number; why don’t you just unblock him and apologize?”

“You’re kidding me, right? Let me just shoot him a quick message like ‘hey, sorry I told you to fuck off—I actually like you and didn’t mean to block you. I just thought it was my roommate pulling a prank on me.’ Like he would believe that over a text message,” he grumbled. 

“Look at you, admitting you like Kirishima. I’m proud of you, Kacchan!” Katsuki sent him a withering glare, which the nerd had the audacity to laugh at. “So, you want to apologize to him in person, then? That will be a little hard considering his visits here are so sporadic, due to his schedule. Then again, he is friends with Kaminari. Maybe we can get him to reach out and arrange a time to be here when you’re on shift. But that would mean we would have to fill Kaminari in on what happened, which could be an issue since you—”

“Cut it out, Deku.” Katsuki really didn’t have the time, nor the patience, to deal with one of Izuku’s ramblings right now. As he went to grab his phone from the apron pocket to check the time, he came across the crumpled up receipt paper. He frowned as he pulled it out, not really remembering what it was, but when he saw the address hastily scrawled out, he suddenly knew just how he would be able to make up for his mistake. 

“Uh, Kacchan, what’s that grin for? You’re scaring me,” Izuku said while slowly inching back toward the kitchen. 

“Let’s get this close done quickly. I had an idea and it’s time I cashed in on that favor you owe me from the Disaster Date.” 

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

This was a stupid idea and he knew it; had midterms to study for, so why he was letting a little crush dictate his actions, he didn’t know. Especially when he wasn’t even sure if Kirishima would be there. Despite this, the two of them continued their trek to the aforementioned ‘Tape Deck’ that Kaminari wouldn’t shut up about during their shift. 

“Are you sure this is the right place, Kacchan?” Deku asked as they arrived, taking in the large, slightly dilapidated building. It had definitely seen better days, that’s for sure. Some of the shingles on the roof were missing, the pale yellow paint on the drooping siding was chipped away, and there were cracks in the foundation. If it weren’t for the group of people outside of the house smoking, drinking, and talking amongst themselves, Katsuki would have sworn that Kaminari had given them the wrong address—not that he had actually given it to them in the first place.

“Holy shit...Bakugou?!? Is that you?” Speak of the devil. Kaminari broke away from the small group and made a beeline for them, stopping short and blinking in surprise before a devious smirk broke out across his face. “Bakugou AND Midoriya? Are my eyes deceiving me?”

“Oh shut up, Dunce Face. And put some damn clothes on,” Katsuki grumbled at him while Izuku gave a meager wave. Why Kaminari was wearing a cropped, neon-yellow denim vest as a shirt, with a matching pair of converse, and black leather pants was a mystery to Katsuki. 

“Why? Am I turning you on?” he asked with a smirk and a lifted eyebrow as he fiddled with the choker at his neck. Katsuki clenched his jaw and fists in irritation, simultaneously ready to just give up and go home and plotting how to get away with murder, when Kaminari burst out laughing, bending over and clutching his sides. 

“I’m just kidding, man,” he gasped out between laughs. “Oh my God, you should have seen your face!” He wiped a tear away from his eye as he straightened back up. “In all seriousness, I never imagined I would see either one of you here. No offense.”

“Well, when you kept yammering on about it to the customers, it made me curious, okay?” Katsuki pouted. 

“Would this have anything to do with Kirishima?” he asked slyly, slinging an arm over Katsuki’s shoulder.  

“Why would it have anything to do with Shitty Hair?” Shoving Kaminari off, Katsuki took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest and threw an impressive glare his way. 

“Well, hewas the one I invited here, not you two. Besides, this doesn’t really seem to be your scene,” Kaminari shrugged. “Speaking of, what areyou doing here, Midoriya?” 

“I owed Kacchan a favor. That, and I don’t have a midterm tomorrow, so I figured why not?”

“Ooooh, does this mean it’s both of your guys’ first time at a house show? This is going to be awesome! Follow me!” he beckoned, talking over the two of them as they tried to respond.

“Are those lightning bolts on your back?” Deku questioned and Katsuki scoffed. Leave it to Dunce Face to have a tramp stamp. 

“Yupp! Just a reminder that there’s passion in my pants and I ain’t afraid to show it,” he winked, leading them past the group of party goers and into the house. 

“You’re a menace to society,” Katsuki grumbled while Izuku chuckled loudly. They found themselves in the kitchen, which was also filled with people milling about. The beat up couch to the left was home to a couple who was in the midst of an animated conversation about which model of guitar was better. There was a table shoved up against the wall on the right of them, which held an assortment of snacks and liquors. A faint thrumming could be heard from below them, but it was overpowered by the pulsing beat of a song coming from another room that gave Katsuki flashbacks to middle school. It must have done the same for Deku, if the look of horror he was wearing was any indication. 

“I thought there was supposed to be live music. What’s with this shit?” Katsuki’s griping was cut short by a door by the snack table being flung open, Jirou storming through it and making a beeline for another room in the house. What had once been a faint noise was now jarring feedback reverberating through the entryway. 

“There is live music, but it isn’t going to start for at least another hour,” Kaminari explained as he shut the door, drowning out the noise from downstairs before crossing over to the fridge, grabbing three beers. 

“An hour? Then why were you saying it started at nine?” 

“Dude! Any respectable punk knows that when you say one time, you clearly mean that that’s when the bands start to arrive for sound check,” Kaminari laughed, passing the beers over to the two of them. 

“What type of horseshit is that? Why not just say the show starts later then?” 

“I don’t know, Kacchan. It makes sense to me, sort of. People start to arrive so they can hang out and enjoy the scene, right?” Izuku asked, cracking open his beer with a wary face. Good—the nerd better not get trashed like last time. 

“That’s right! My mans Midoriya gets it!” Kaminari exclaimed as he draped an arm around his shoulder. “It’s all about the ambiance. Gotta get your head in the game before the show starts. And by in the game, I mean piss drunk,” he grinned before downing the beer with speed that was both impressive and slightly terrifying. Jirou came storming back through the kitchen and flew down the stairs, muttered curses coloring her words. An impressively tall man came sauntering in after her and leaned against the doorframe, crossing his heavily tattooed arms. He was dressed pretty plainly—a pair of dark skinny jeans, beat up tri colored vans, and an oversized Dead Kennedys muscle tank that showed off the side piece tattoo that creeped up the right side of his neck. His long hair was shaggy and loose around his face, which was adorned with multiple piercings: snakebites, a nose hoop, and dimple dermals that caught the dim kitchen light as he laughed at Kaminari.    

“Only you liked to get pissed drunk before the shows, Denki. I don’t think there’s ever been a time I’ve seen you sober at a show.”

“Gotta live life to the fullest, man,” he laughed. “Bakugou, Midoriya, this here’s Sero. We call him Long, Lean, and Lanky here!”

“You’re the only one who calls me that and you know it,” Sero groaned, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, nice to meet you both. How do you both have the unfortunate pleasure of knowing Kaminari here?”

“I resent that statement! Beer?” Sero nodded and Kaminari went to fetch him a drink. 

“Work,” Bakugou grunted, trying to not be obvious with how his eyes were roving the room, looking for Kirishima as people started to filter into the small kitchen. 

“Wow, you’re a man of many words.” Deku, the traitor, laughed at Sero’s comment, so Bakugou shoved him lightly. “Work, you say? At the cafe or are you both electricians too? I would say the bar, but you two don’t seem the type who would be into that scene, no offense.”

“Oh, we work at Sugar Rush with Kaminari,” Izuku quickly said before Katsuki could get in a word.    

“Yupp! Blasty here is the Head Bitch—I mean Head Barista in Charge and Midoriya is the cook!” Kaminari chimed in, tossing the beer at Sero and wrapping his arms around Izuku and Katsuki, who quickly shook him off. 

“The cafe, huh. Interesting,” Sero cryptically muttered before cracking open his drink. They stood there, the awkward silence eating at Katsuki and making his skin itch, as Sero seemed to mull over his words. 

“So,” he started as Katsuki took a swig of his beer, “How long have you two been together?” he asked, gesturing between him and Deku and Katsuki choked. Kaminari burst out into raucous laughter, holding his gut as he gave a few huge whacks to Bakugou’s back. 

“Wha-? Me and Kacchan?” Deku squeaked as his face flamed bright red. 

“Why the hell would you think me and that shitty nerd are dating?” Katsuki coughed as he shoved the still laughing Kaminari off of him.       

“You two seem pretty close,” he shrugged. “I just assumed since you came together that you were together.” 

“Haven’t you ever heard about what happens when you assume shit, Soy Sauce Face?” Katsuki growled. “Besides, Deku here isn’t even gay,” he said, jabbing a thumb in Izuku’s direction. 

“I’m not straight either, Kacchan,” he fired back before snapping his mouth shut, cheeks flaming once again. 

“What did you just say?” Katsuki asked, blinking at him. 

“You heard me loud and clear, Kacchan. I’m not straight,” he said defiantly before shrinking back on himself a bit. “I-I guess you would say I’m bisexual. Though I haven’t actually been with a guy before, I'm definitely not opposed to the idea. In fact, if I wasn’t dating Uraraka, I would totally be willing to date a guy. I mean, have you seen Todoroki Shouto?” Sero snorted around his beer at this. “Definitely my celebrity crush. That man is totally walking eye candy, and if I had a chance to meet-”

“Please, for the love of everything, stop,” Katsuki groaned as he cut off Deku’s rambling. “I am entirely too sober to deal with your gay awakening right now.” Kaminari was set off into another round of hysterics as Katsuki pushed past him and yanked open the fridge, grabbing two beers for himself. 

“You should have seen your face, Kacchan! You went from ‘oh my god, I’m gonna kill this man’ to ‘oh hell no, Midoriya did not just say what I think he said’ so quickly I think I gave myself whiplash,” Kaminari snorted as he tried to pilfer the unopened beer from Katsuki’s hand. 

“What have I said? Don’t ever call me Kacchan, Dunce Face, or it will be the last thing you say. And get your grubby hands off me. There’s a fridge full of beer—you don’t need mine,” he bit out, shaking the blond off him. 

“Rude! Sero! Make him give me the beer. It’s your house!”

“He’s right, Denki. There’s really more where that came from. Just go get another one.” Kaminari pouted and walked over to the fridge dejectedly. 

“Can I have another one too? Really didn’t think I would be outing myself at a house party of all places,” Izuku sighed and Katsuki felt a pang of sympathy for him, not that he would say it. 

“Of course, broski! And you don’t have to worry about us at all. This is a homo-safe home, same-team homie,” he grinned, passing the beer over to Izuku and hanging off him like a koala. 

“Not like you live here, or anything,” Sero quipped, a smirk on his face as he finished his beer. “It’s been nice meeting you both, but I need to go see how the band is doing with setup. Jirou was pretty pissed off.”

“Why is the lovely lady so angry?” Kaminari asked and Sero let out a long sigh. 

“For starters, we had to move up Dark Shadow’s set because Loud Cloud is nowhere to be found.”

“Shirakumo? Missing? Who would have thought?” Kaminari snickered, and Sero shot him a glare. 

“You know that moves your set up too, right? Anyway, Ei is also MIA, meaning that they’re now down their rhythm as well. If we don’t hear from him soon, then it looks like I will have to fill in for him.” Soy Sauce face and Dunce Face continued chatting about music and Katsuki nursed his beer, trying to not sulk too much. There was still no sign of Kirishima, much to Katsuki’s dismay. He knew it was a bit of a long shot, especially since Kirishima never gave a definitive answer, but he was hoping that his gut instinct wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t sure why, but he just had a feeling that Kirishima would actually show up tonight.   

“You okay, Kacchan?” Deku asked as he escaped from Kaminari’s hold on him, sipping on his beer occasionally as the conversation continued to unfold despite Sero’s attempts to disengage. 

“Just peachy, nerd,” he grunted. “You know,” he said after a pause, “you didn’t have to out yourself at a party like that. So, are you like, okay or whatever?” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Izuku shrugged. “It was bound to come up eventually. I also wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t trust you or Kaminari,” he said, picking at the hem of his green flannel.

“Oi, knock that off. You’ll bust the stitching. But I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Aww, Kacchan being nice? I never thought I’d see the day!” Kaminari exclaimed, turning his attention away from Sero, who took the opportunity to sneak away. 

“You’re not going to see tomorrow if you keep calling me Kacchan,” Katsuki grit out. 

“Oh, shush. I know your bark is wayyy worse than your bite. Anygay, come on! You gotta get that full Tape Deck experience, and you won’t get that by just loitering around in the kitchen,” he insisted, worming his way behind the two of them and pushing them toward what Katsuki assumed was the living room on a normal day. Currently, it looked like a clusterfuck of bodies all sprawled out across the couch, loveseat, and folding chairs. The table was decorated with plastic cups and an assortment of crunched up booze cans and the air had a thick haze of smoke that made Katsuki’s eyes water. Deku wasn’t faring any better, given the coughing fit he was currently in the midst of. There was an impressive stereo system off to the side of the seating area, which was currently blaring music that Katsuki was positive would be haunting him for the next few weeks. Whoever allowed Kaminari the ability to pick the pre-show music should be shot on principle alone. 

“Sit, I’ll go get us some more beers!” Kaminari exclaimed after shoving them both to the now-unoccupied couch. Katsuki grit his teeth in annoyance but didn’t fight it—for once he was out of his element, even if only by a little. At least he was dressed more appropriately for a show compared to Deku. While his roommate was sporting his green flannel that was opened to a white shirt that had SHIRT printed across it in English with a pair of jeans and sneakers, Katsuki opted to wearing a dark grey v-neck tee with a pair of black skinny jeans that were ripped at the knees and a pair of black combat boots. He also had lined his eyes with a ring of eyeliner and touched up his black nail polish. As he finished off his beer, he had to admit to himself that the other reason he wasn’t fighting Kaminari’s antics, yet, was because he was doing this for a chance to make up for his piss-poor behavior toward Kirishima. He fought the urge to check his phone, even though he knew Kirishima was still blocked, and turned toward Deku, who looked like he would rather be anywhere but there in that particular moment. A petite blonde woman was sitting so close to him that she was nearly on his lap, an honest-to-god creepy smile stretched across her face as she invaded his personal space.

“Mans is taken, Toga, back off,” Kaminari chided, shoving her off of Deku with his foot as he returned with the booze. She snarled at him, the dangerous glint in her eyes enough to make Katsuki uncomfortable, before she pushed herself off of Deku and threw herself onto the lap of an older blonde man with a long scar down his forehead, who welcomed her with a hearty laugh.

“Sorry about Toga, Midoriya. She can be a bit handsy, but she mostly means well. Otherwise, Awase and Shoji wouldn’t have hired her. She’s definitely crazy in the chair though—she had the bolts on me faster than I knew was possible.”

“I wouldn’t trust her anywhere near my skin with a needle,” Katsuki barked out, taking the proffered beer.

“Like you would let anyone near your skin with a needle, Blasty,” Kaminari teased while perching himself on the table across from Katsuki. “I bet you don’t even have a single tattoo!” Katsuki snorted and rolled his left sleeve up to show off his shoulder cap—a mix of grenades, smoke, and explosions decorating his skin. 

“You were saying, Dunce Face?” he smirked as Kaminari’s eyes went wide. 

“Holy Shit, Kacchan, that’s a sick tattoo! You’re cooler than I thought you were!” Katsuki rolled his eyes as he adjusted his shirt. Izuku was muttering to himself as he sipped at his beer and scrolled through his phone. 

“Whatcha babbling on about over there, nerd?” Katsuki asked as he got more comfortable. 

“Just going back and forth between texting mom and Uraraka to get the plans for this weekend hammered out,” he said off-handedly, more absorbed in his messages than the actual conversation. Great—now he had to either sit in an awkward silence or continue conversing with Dunce Face as he tried to not look around the room like a lost puppy for any sight of Kirishima. Thankfully, Kaminari, and the shitty music surrounding them, was able to fill the void as the minutes passed. Kaminari interacted with many of the patrons of the party, pulling Katsuki into wild conversations that he really didn’t care about, but it made him feel like he actually fit in, which was nice, considering he didn’t have much interaction with others outside of Deku. Which, in retrospect, was slightly worrying, but now was most definitely not the time for him to get sucked into that train of thought. They continued on like this for a while before a loud vibration shook the living room, causing both Katsuki and Izuku to sit up in a panic and look around as everyone else stood up and made their way out of the living room.       

“It’s about TIME! Come on! The show is starting!” Kaminari exclaimed, hopping up and waving them toward the door. Izuku stood and followed Kaminari, but Katsuki hesitated, trying to fight off a pout as he looked toward what he assumed was the front door. 

“Oh come on,” Kaminari groaned, rolling his eyes. “Kiri knows where the basement is. Whenever he gets here, he will find us. Now, stop being such a grumpy lil bitch and come downstairs.”   

“What did you call me?!” he growled out as he jumped up from the couch, ready to kill Dunce Face. 

“You heard me, Kacchan. Now come on—I’m pretty sure we’ve already missed the first song and I’ve got a Jirou to impress over here,” he sighed impatiently shoving the two of them toward the basement. 

“I’m sure she will be totally impressed with you dressed like a cheap hooker,” Katsuki bit out and Kaminari snorted out a laugh. 

“Hey, I resent that! I’m more of a high-dollar escort rather than a hooker. But that’s neither here nor there. May I present to you men, Tape Deck!” he shouted over the cheers as they entered the basement. If Katsuki had thought that the living room was a waking nightmare, he was sorely mistaken and wholly unprepared for the showroom. There were strands of twinkling lights wrapped up with Halloween garland hanging from the ceiling around the entirety of the room. The walls were littered with show posters and canvases, and what wasn’t filled with those was filled with graffiti. A mattress was propped up against a door that led to the outside, and the area to the right of where the band was set up had a mismatch of lawn chairs, bean bag chairs, and a couch with a table in front that was covered with more crushed up cans. Katsuki had to fight a grimace at the floors, which his boots were sticking to, as he followed Kaminari up toward the front of the crowd, Deku trailing behind them. 

“Thank you everyone! It’s nice to see you all here tonight! But you’re not here to listen to me talk, so let’s get this shit on the road!” Jirou called out as the band moved into their next song, her haunting voice filling the air before the drums and guitars kicked into gear. Jirou looked every bit like she belonged right on the makeshift stage, her body swaying to the beat as she belted out the lyrics while she plucked at the strings of her bass. Soy Sauce Face was to her left carrying the tune on the rhythm, and behind her there was a massive silver-haired man banging out the beat on the drums and Katsuki was now entirely convinced that he was related to Kirishima in some way or another. And to Jirou’s right there was a person shrouded in a pure black hoodie shredding out the lead and providing vocals for the chorus. Katsuki squinted, thinking that the combination of his shitty genetics and the poor lighting were deceiving him, but to his horror, neither were.         

"Is that a freakin' bird mask?" he shouted at Kaminari over the music.

"Oh yeah! That's good ol' Tokoyami for you," he laughed. "It's his schtick. Kinda like the one band we had play here whose lead wore one of those Snuggies and a wizard hat. Man, they were great. Maybe they will come back one day." Katsuki blinked. What in the hell was up with these people? 

"But man, you should be so glad that you're getting to see Tokoyami with this mask," Dunce Face continued prattling on all while shoving people who were thrown at him forward. "The last one was the thing of my nightmares, I swear to god. It was like a kindergartener's Papier-mâché project gone wrong. Rumor has it that the band used the money from their merch table for the first few shows to all pitch in and get him the glorious mask seen now. No one knows where Budget Birdman went to. And no one wants to know."

“You all are nuts, I swear to god,” Katsuki guffawed. “What do I do with this?” he asked, gesturing to the empty can in his hand. 

“Just crunch it and toss it—damage control clean up is tomorrow morning,” Kaminari laughed, taking the can and disposing of it himself. 

“I didn’t know Jirou was this good of a singer!” Deku shouted, leaning forward so both men could hear. “I mean, I’ve heard her sing to herself at work when she thinks no one is paying attention, but I didn’t think she was this talented!”

“Kyouka is a beast when it comes to music. I’ve always dabbled around with mixes and stuff myself, but it wasn’t until I met her that I actually learned to play an instrument. I owe a lot to her,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. 

“You’ve got it bad, you idiot.” 

“Like you have any room to talk, Kacchan. I saw how you were interacting with Kirishima today at work. Boy, you are whipped!” he cackled and Katsuki could feel the blush creeping up his face. Stupid electrician who was too observant for his own good. “Hanta, babe! You’re looking great!” he called out to Soy Sauce Face as they were transitioning to the next song, effectively changing the conversation, which Katsuki was thankful for. The energy of the room was chaotic, the small group of people by the ‘stage’ pushing at one another as the bass line mixed with the lead guitar to create an intoxicating rhythm for everyone to move their bodies to. Kaminari had moved up toward the throng of people, throwing himself into the chaos with maniacal laughter while Deku stayed close to Katsuki, sipping on his beer and swaying to the music. As the songs would come to a close and fade into the newer ones, even Katsuki found himself being impressed with how well the band was playing, even if he was confident that he could play the drums better than the Tin Can. He wondered, briefly, what the band would sound like if this mysterious Ei person had shown up, but that was quickly expelled from his head when a fist connected with his face. 

“What the fuck?” he growled as he staggered back, wiping drool from his chin. His shirt was soaked and he was seething. He whipped his head around and he swore he saw that Toga chick from earlier smirking as she threw herself back into the fray.  

“Whoa whoa whoa! Calm down, Kacchan!” Dunce Face pleaded, flitting over to his side and holding him back. “It’s just a mosh pit! Shit like this happens all the time. You just gotta shrug it off! 

“Shrug it off? That bitch just punched me in the face!”

“It was probably an accident man. A casualty of a good time.” Katsuki squinted his eyes in suspicion at Kaminari, who leveled him with his own stare, off-handedly pushing people back into the mosh pit as they were thrown his way. “Come on, man. Live a little—what’s the worst that could happen? Or are you too much of a wuss to get a couple of scratches and bruises?” he taunted and Katsuki saw red. 

“I’ll show you who’s the wuss, Dunce Face,” he grit out before cautiously stepping into the horde of people, trying to dodge the elbows and writhing bodies. Kaminari immediately threw himself at him, and he pushed him away quickly, throwing him toward another party-goer. There was a small rush he felt as he got to throw the other man around, and he immediately understood the appeal of mosh pits. His grin became manic as he really threw himself into the fray. 

“Alright, ya heathens! Last song of the night, in honor of the birthday boy here!” Jirou announced and Katsuki perked up, scanning the room for any sight of Kirishima when he realized that Jirou wasn’t talking about him, but was instead talking about the possibly-related-to-Kirishima drummer. Before he could let the disappointment set in, the room filled with the feedback from the guitar before the drums picked up, and he felt his adrenaline kicking in. The song definitely had a grunge feel to it, which was right up his alley. He felt sudden appreciation for the Tin Can for his choice of music. 

“Hell yeah! This is some real Dark Shadow right here!” Kaminari shouted as he jumped nearly a foot in the air before launching himself towards his next unsuspecting victim. Between the beat and the surprisingly haunting vocals from BirdMan, Katsuki felt himself getting thrown into a trance of thrashing. He felt more free than he had in months—honestly, this was the most free he had felt since the beginning of the semester—and now he understood why his classmates decided to go to parties. He felt like he was on top of the world, like nothing could ever make him crash down. 

Of course, that had to be when everything went to shit. He had made his way back to the edge of the mosh pit to catch his breath when the tall man who Toga had been hanging all over in the living room came staggering backwards toward him, knocking him into the person behind him. The two of them hit the ground, and Katsuki swore he heard a sickening crunch from below him. 

“Man down! Man down!” Kaminari shouted as he appeared from nowhere to help Katsuki up. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Just peachy,” he grunted out, eyes narrowing at the large man who was profusely apologizing to him before escaping back to the crowd. He turned back around at Kaminari’s exclamation of ‘oh shit’ and he felt his stomach drop as he took in Deku clutching at his arm, tears rimming his eyes as Dunce Face gingerly helped him up. 

“Kacchan, I think it’s broken,” he whimpered as they moved away from the crowd and toward the stairs. 

“What do you mean broken? Aren’t your bones like indestructible or some shit from breaking them all the time as a kid?” he asked in a panic, to which Midoriya fixed him with a deadpan stare. 

“You and I both know that’s not how that works.”

“Fuck. Yeah, you’re right. Shit I’m so sorry Deku. I didn’t mean to… Fuck!” He was close to pulling his hair out at this point. Kaminari looked like he wanted to say something, but didn’t have the words for it, which was preferable, really. Katsuki wasn’t sure he could take any of Dunce Face’s ramblings right now.

“It’s not your fault. Come on, we gotta get going if we want to make it to the hospital at a decent hour,” Izuku sighed, already maneuvering his way up the stairs. Katsuki blindly followed him up the stairs, mind moving a million miles an hour as he contemplated just how entirely pissed Auntie Inko was going to be with him over this. Here he was, getting Deku in trouble just because he was a love-struck fool, not that he would ever admit that out loud to anyone, the nerd especially. He wasn’t watching where he was going and collided with someone else, falling on his ass for the second time that night just as he stepped outside. 

“Hey man! Are you ok—wait? Bakugou? ” the other asked incredulously and Katsuki’s head snapped up to see Kirishima standing over him, his hand outstretched in an offer to help him up. Katsuki quickly took it, floundering for words as the man he had been searching for all night was now right in front of him, hauling him up, and he couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate. Just as he was about to finally get a sentence out—specifically ‘how did you know my name?’—Deku interrupted. 

“Kacchan? Where are yo— oh,” he squeaked as his eyes flitted between Katsuki and Kirishima. He looked like he was about to say something else but winced in pain instead as someone passing by accidentally jostled his arm. Right—he couldn’t keep making Izuku wait while he was making a fool out of himself. 

“Thanks,” he finally managed to grit out as he pulled his hand free. “I’ll see you around?” he asked and turned away without waiting for an answer. Deku gave him a questioning look but otherwise kept his mouth shut as they left Tape Deck. As they settled on the train towards the nearest hospital, Katsuki rested his head in his hands, ignoring the shrieking from Auntie Inko as Izuku called to let her know what was going on, and let the fatigue sit in. The look of disappointment that crossed Kirishima’s face as Katsuki walked away from him was haunting him. His only hope now was that he didn’t screw up his chance to make things right with Kirishima. Surely there would be another opportunity, right?

#jaz writes #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #long fic #chapter 3 #mocha choco latte #On the Rocks #also on ao3

[mikeyfuckinway]

i want slouchy arm warmers i want to dress like an emo boy from 2005 but like. a cool one with a band

#skinny jeans and hair with stupid bangs #cool boots #i would just like to look like revenge mikey with slouchy arm warmers #i am now talking about mikey way and i didnt even realize it #aries.txt #emo boy #mikey way #im not street but i queue what i gotta queue

[1987vampire]

A Good Something? | Judd Birch

Fandom: Big Mouth Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: a hurt racoon, the f slur, just a lot of cussing.  Request: None! A/N: This isn’t established Judd x reader, this is meeting him for the first time so if I write more fics for him, I have something I can refer y’all back to :) If y’all want to see more Judd, an ACTUAL judd x reader, I can give y’all that ALSO the reader has dyed hair in this - not blue - it’s not super important but there’s a line in here that references it.  Extra: 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words were stressed as you slammed on the breaks. The rain made it hard to see; it wasn’t your fault that the animal had run into the middle of the road. You weren’t even going that fast, they should have been able to hear you.

You flung your door open harsher than you meant to, but you had to move quickly in case someone came speeding down the road, and you ended up bleeding out right next to whatever you had hit. The road was slick underneath your feet. You almost slipped and fell as you skidded to a stop in front of them. It was a racoon, a fat one at that, and it was staring up at you with big doe eyes. His leg was twisted, and he was letting out small grunts of pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, little buddy,” You cried. “Can I pick you up? I’ll find somewhere to take care of you, I promise.” You hadn’t really expected an answer- it was an animal after all – but he nodded up at you, reaching his little paws out in hopes that you would help. You paused for a moment, taking in the situation and trying to figure out how to pick him up without hurting him.

You reached an arm under his butt and the other under his neck so you wouldn’t jostle his leg too much. He made little chirping sounds as you steadily walked over to your car, using your head as a shield so he wouldn’t get rain in his eyes. You let out a quiet stream of ‘I’m sorry’s as you did so. You made it into your car just in time to close the door as someone sped down, narrowly missing you as they went.

The little racoon shivered in the passenger seat, but you covered him in blankets and spare clothes you kept in the back, turning the heat in your car on high, trying to dry him and heat him up at the same time. He stared up at you thankfully as you put the car in gear, driving home even slower than before, never going over twenty-five-miles-an-hour.

Once you had reached your apartment, you had to sneak him in in hopes that your shitty landlord wouldn’t notice. He had a strict no animals policy, but this was a bit more important. Fortunately, you could sneak past his office by telling the raccoon to be quiet, since he seemed to be good at listening to directions somehow, and hiding him underneath the pile of clothes, passing him off as laundry.

Finally, inside the comforts of your apartment, you laid him down on the couch and set to researching what to do. After a few calls to a few vet offices and a lot of google searches, you were able to give him a makeshift cast and lay him in a way that would be best for his recovery. He was still talking in his little racoon language as you went. It really looked like he was trying to tell you something, but unfortunately, you were human and could not understand him.

That was until he held your hand in his little paws and pulled them to his neck. How had you not noticed the skinny collar he was wearing? His thick fur had almost completely covered it. Really, it wasn’t even a collar but a thick piece of cord with a circle nameplate in the middle.

You fiddled with it, reading the information attached. ‘Contact Judd. 555-4200’ was engraved onto it in someone’s personal handwriting instead of with a machine. “You know it’s illegal for someone to own a racoon around here, right,” you told him. The racoon made a noise of disapproval and fiddled with the collar again. “Do you want me to take it off?” He hissed in displeasure, making you stop abruptly. “Call him?” He nodded enthusiastically. “You’re a strange little guy, you know that, right?”

You pulled out your phone and dialed the number, tapping your foot against the floor anxiously. It took a few rings, and you were sure he wouldn’t pick up, when a deep voice answered the phone.

“Do you know what fucking time it is, right now?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you turned towards the first clock you could find—three o’clock in the morning. “I- I’m sorry. I can call back in the morning if you want. I just have this racoon with me, and his ankle is twisted because I accidentally hit him, and he had your number on his neck, and I- I-“

“Racoon?” His voice cut you off, and you could tell that he was waking up at the information. “You hit one of my fucking racoons?”

“He ran out into the middle of the road when I was driving. It was raining, so I could barely see, and I couldn’t swerve to miss him because there was a car on one side of the road and trees on the other. I wrapped his leg, and he’s resting, but he wanted me to call you, so here we are.”

He let out a few grumbles, and my fingers instinctively rose to my face so I could bite at my nails. “Fucking hell. Why was he in the middle of the road?” It was a rhetorical question, but you had almost wanted to respond even though you didn’t have an answer. “Does he have any distinctive marks on him? A missing toe, clipped ear, maybe he has uneven stripes.” Your eyes fell on the racoon again. He looked pretty normal besides the leg.

Almost like he knew what you were talking about, the racoon pulled one of his hands up to his forehead. After you pushed some of his fur to the side, you knew what he was pointing at. “He’s showing me that he has a scar on his forehead - like he split his forehead or something.”

“Of course it’s fucking Gerard – the fat fuck.”

You frowned at the statement. “He’s not that fat.”

“I mean the sentence in the most loving hatred filled way I can mean it. He knows I don’t mean it. Can you give the phone to him?”

This was the weirdest fucking situation you had ever been in. “Oh yeah, I guess.” you placed the phone in the racoon’s hand, and he made a chirp as a hello. You could hear Judd’s voice lowly in the speaker as he talked to him, the racoon making noises of acknowledgement as he went. You could make out very little besides him asking if you were taking care of him and then berating him for being stupid. The racoon – well, Gerard – kept trying to talk to him, but Judd refused to let up, barely giving him a moment to speak even if he did understand him.

After a few minutes, Gerard pushed the phone towards me, and I took it back. “So, what do you want me to do with him. Like, I can take him to yours, since I guess he belongs to you, or-“

“Fuck off. What are you – the feds? Give me your address, I’m not letting you see my shit.”

“Well, usually people ask me on a date before seeing my place, but-“ the words had slipped from my mouth before I thought about what I was saying, and my eyes immediately widened with embarrassment. “Oh my god- I’m sorry-“

He laughed loudly and pulled the phone away from his ear. “Well, we can think about that after I get the fat fucking faggot in your house.”

Your arms crossed. “You better part of that community if you’re using their slurs, fuckface.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he mused. “Give me your address. I’m getting in my car.”

After giving him the information, you hung up, itching at your arm as you stared at Gerard. “He isn’t very nice, huh,” you told him. He chirped and shook his head as if defending him. “Is he really mean or is it a front?” He chirped at the second part, and I smiled. “Well, he’ll be here soon.”

And soon it was. It only took him about ten minutes before you heard a loud knocking on your door, banging more like. You jumped from sitting beside Gerard to the door, peeking out into the dark hallway, the latch still connected. “Judd?”

On the other side of the door was a decently tall man with black and blue hair, his sides shaved til it was only stubble. He was clad in a gray hoodie and black jeans, gray converse on his feet. His face was set in a glare as he stared at you. “Who the fuck else would it be?”

You shut the door and unlatched it, opening it wider so he could come in. “You knock like my landlord.”

“Landlord?” He pushed into your apartment, his sights set on the racoon lounging on your cheap couch. “You don’t look old enough to have a landlord.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m nineteen. This is my apartment.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder. “And you let some strange man in? Pretty stupid if you ask me.”

You frowned and pursed your lips. “I can kick you out- keep your racoon if you don’t start acting nice.”

“You could definitely try.” He picked up Gerard’s leg, inspecting it. “You did a good job with this. Almost as good as my work.”

“He was a good patient.”

Judd scoffed, sticking his hands underneath Gerard to pick him up just as you had earlier that night. “He was probably just basking in a pretty girl’s attention.”

Pretty? A smile was climbing onto your face. He was pretty, too, if he didn’t have such a sour attitude.

His eyes fell onto yours as he turned. “I like your hair by the way. The color suits you.” You ran your hand through your dyed hair, suddenly very conscious of how you looked. “You should try blue next time.” Gerard made a loud noise in his arms and reached out to you. Judd frowned down at him. “You had your fun, dumbass, but you’ve got to go home now. I’m sure the others are worried about you.”

“Others?”

Judd looked back at you. “Yeah, I was – uh – training a battalion of racoons to kill my younger brother.” He groaned quietly. “Now they’re good for catering and attacking intruders, but they refused to hurt him. Got a few scars because of it.”

You chuckled quietly and shook your head. “You sure are something, alright.”

His lips upturned the slightest bit into a tiny smile. “Is that a good something?”

“Sure, we can say that.”

You opened the door for him as he started taking strides towards it. He paused right past the entryway, something sitting on his tongue. “Try not to hit any more racoons, alright?”

Your fingers drummed along the door, and you laughed. “I’ll be sure to call you if I do. Just in case.”

He was already walking away when he responded. “You have my number.”

You hesitated on shutting the door right away, choosing to listen to him begin to berate the racoon as he walked down the hall, something along the lines of, ‘you make me come out in the middle of the night, scared shitless. You could have died, you fucking cunt.” He continued as he disappeared out of sight, but you didn’t even have the heart to ask him to cover the racoon as he left, preferring to just deal with your landlords berating the next day.

#judd birch #judd birch x reader #judd big mouth #judd big mouth x reader #big mouth #big mouth x reader

[katsukikitten]

WARNING 18+ BIRB NOT BIRB SMUT! Band AU, harem collab. In which reader meets her favorite faceless singer. Little over 3k

Sweat trickles down your spine as your favorite song is blasted from the large speakers. Fog from the stage lingers just above your head as you feel as if you were in a dream. The setting is surreal especially since you actually managed to WIN those rare radio tickets to see a band in concert. And not just any band, your favorite fucking bad.  

TOKYO MOB

The band consisted of four people, Bakugou Katsuki, the drummer who was angrier than any person you'd ever seen wearing nothing but skinny black jeans and a perpetual frown. Jiro, so cool and sleek in anything she wore as she tore up her guitar as side vocals. Then there was Denki, funny, cute even, on the bass with his electric blonde hair and killer smile. Lastly there was "Dark Shadow", the lead vocalist. 

No one knew his real name or what he looked like, he chose to wear a headpiece in the shape of a raven or crow. You loved him, even without knowing his face. 

He was so fit, strong arms and deadly abs that could be seen from beneath his cut off band tee crop top, much like you were wearing now. His voice was soothing as a bird's song, whether he was screaming or singing. The sound so uniquely beautiful it brought tears to your eyes the first time you heard it. And standing here with nothing but a small barricade and stage separating the two of you was a dream made in heaven. 

He sings your favorite song, looking out into the crowd, body drenched in sweat from the high energy show as he jumps to the beat. He pauses to hit a long note and while the guitar riffs he looks into the VIP section. You swear you feel as if he is looking dead at you. The next few lyrics are packed full with emotion as he gets onto his knee, one hand holding the microphone while the other gently floats towards outstretched hands. 

"I've been looking for youuuu, I just need to find youuuuu and when I do, when I do I'll dress you in my band teee and make youuuu~"

But it's yours that his fingers brush, intertwining his fingers with yours as tears prick your eyes. 

"Mine. Forever miiinee~" 

The world stops, his silky voice smoothing over your skin before it erupts in goose flesh, he holds on to your hand as he sings the chorus again. The screaming people around you fade away as you hear nothing but his sultry voice. 

As if he were serenading you in the kitchen of your home. 

"I've been looking for youuuu, I just need to find youuuuu and when I do, when I do I'll dress you in my band teee and make youuuu~"

"Mine. Forever miiinee~"

He squeezes your hand as he finishes the note, releasing your hand slowly before starting to stand. The music begins to fade as he huffs, trying to catch his breath before looking over the band. He sees that ever might need just a second more to take in some water so he brings the mic close to his face as he shouts. 

"Are we having a good time tonight?!" 

The crowd erupts into a scream, so loud you can barely hear the one tearing up your throat. 

"I can't fucking hear you, extras!" Bakugou shouts into his own mic. The sold out stadium shakes rivaling the bass of the sound system as they all play off random notes and beats. When the deafening roar becomes a hushed, dull roar Bakugou sets the beat, Jiro and Denki join in as their most popular song begins to bump through the speakers. The song sets a heavy, hype beat that can get anyone to bang their head to. You start along with them, booze lighting up your system and causing you to ignore the charged air around you  

Some of the bystanders, some of the women especially were jealous of the fact that you were holding hands with none other than the DARK SHADOW. 

"Stupid bitch." They murmur amongst themselves, "Let's really fuck her up." 

One says before shoving her unsuspecting and overly excitable boyfriend into another guy while shouting. 

"MOSH PIT!" The crowd follows suit, putting you in the thick of it. Normally you could handle a little mosh, staying on the fringes to avoid too much damage but being in the center was beginning to spell trouble. The world spun as body after body began to slam into you, turning you this way and that before someone begins to take advantage of the situation. A sleazy guy you had hoped to avoid "falls" into you, rough palms grabbing a handful of your ass, beneath your skirt. A yelp lost to the crowd leaves your lips, tears burning in your eyes as this man set out to ruin what was possibly the highlight of your life. 

He was going to ruin it with his disgusting cigarette breath, lips sloppily kissing at your throat as he moved the two of you closer to the barricade. His fingers dig into your ass, spreading your cheeks as he shouts into your ear. 

"These fishnets for me slut?" He slurs, chuckling as he presses your back into the cool biting metal, "Love the crop top baby, do you got a bra on underneath?" 

A sob threatens to rack through your body as your elated high quickly turns into stomach churning nausea. Desperately you look up to the stage, anything to distract you from the fingers that try to venture between your thighs, while the other rips at your favorite top.

Tokoyami jumps, stopping to adjust his feet for steady ground to do the screaming part of the song, he glances down into the crowd, silently looking for you. The woman who made his heart flutter for the first time in years and when he sees your face tilted up towards him with fear and pain twisting your features he loses his cool. 

"Fucking stop!" He shouts, the lyrics gone for now as the music abruptly stops, the man holding you startles as the light follows Dark Shadow's accusing finger. He is illuminated by the stage light as bystanders rip him from you, he punches one guy and makes a run for it. 

 "Aye yo security. Get this asshole!" Dark Shadow shouts, leaning down for your now outstretched arms. Pulling you on stage with ease as his fingers flutter over your shoulders and sides for injuries.

"You okay my sparrow?" He coos softly and you nod, and he guides you towards the back of the stage, leaving the two front members to appease the excited crowd. He presses a cold water bottle to your hand before pulling up a chair a few feet from the drum kit. 

"Stay by Bakugou okay? He'll take care of you." He wipes some sweat from your face before squeezing the nape of your neck. Bakugou glares your way with mixed emotions before doing his show starting beat to get the crowd jumping. 

"Anyone else wanna act like a fucking douche?" Denki asks, walking up and down the front of the stage waiting for Tokoyami to return to the forefront. 

"NOOOOO!" The crowd shouts, Denki offers a cheeky smile before adding. 

"That's my good fans!" He blows a kiss to the crowd and the screams fly up an octave. 

"Alright let's start this shit from the top!" Jiro shouts, letting out some hypnotic notes before looking towards Tokoyami. 

"Actually, let's give them a sample of the new album. Let's give them a tease. Do you wanna be teased?" He asks the crowd aiming the mic towards them as if he needed to. 

"SHOW US! TEASE US!" The crowd chants before Tokoyami looks towards his band members. 

"I dunno do they deserve it?" Bakugou prodes and the audience lets out a dejected whine. 

"Promise to behave?" Jiro teases and the crowd collectively screams out desperately "YES!"

"Well keep your hands to yourself and listen up cause you're only gonna hear it this once til it drops!" Tokoyami shouts before Jiro starts playing that hypnotic sound, shortly after Denki joins in. Bakugou twisting his drumstick as he waits for his cue impatiently. Dark Shadow takes in a deep breath before singing the haunting first lines of their new song. 

"What do you do, when it's stalking after yoouuu? What do you say when it's just a breath awaaay~? Coming closer and you can't seem to get awaaaaay?" 

"Always watching, always loooomming-" 

Bakugou slams his sticks down hard onto the kit, foot tapping the bass drum at an alarming speed as everything seems to be hitting a climax. 

"WHAT DO YOU DO WHEN ITS COMING FROM INSIDE OF YOU? WHAT DO YOU SAY WHEN IT SHARES YOUR NAAAAME? 

WHEN YOU CAN'T HIDE THE DEMON THAT'S LURKING INSIDE!" 

The last line he screams and the crowd is overcome with emotion. The height of the music and the new song that the band pours their hearts into, sends the crowd into a frenzy. Sweat dripping from everyone as their black shirts dampen around their collars. 

The song the crowd wanted to last forever comes to an end and you find yourself standing to scream, tears in your eyes.

"That was amazing!" Curling your fingers into a fist, Dark Shadow turns back to see you, out of the millions of people there tonight, in that moment he could only hear you.  

"Well I think we gave them a good show huh?" Denki asks into the mic, Bakugou drums a heavy beat as he shouts. 

"FUCK YEA WE DID!" 

"HAVE A GOOD NIGHT!!" The band members shout in unison before waving and slowly backing off stage. Tokoyami rushes towards you, hand slipping around your natural waist as he guides you into the darkened stage towards his dressing room. Your heart is racing in your ears as the silence becomes deafening. Being this close to Dark Shadow you couldn't help but notice the little cushion that keeps his helmet from damaging his throat and the intoxicating smell that rolls off of him like a cool breeze. He smells like cedar and pine at twilight while the wind brings with it the threat of snow. 

You shiver despite the warmth of his touch. Swallowing the lump in your throat you force your tongue to cooperate as he steps in front of his door politely opening it for you. His small silver chains clink from the motion.

"You must be tired, are you sure you want...company?" If you could see his face you imagined he'd be smiling. Pressing his hand at the small of your back to urge you inside. 

"I'm sure." He walks in, waiting for you to follow before he slumps onto a worn leather arm chair. Your platform converse move on their own as you cross the threshold of the room, closing the door behind you. 

"Lock it, would you sparrow?" All you can do is nod as you turn the lock until you hear a soft click. He gestures for you to sit on the couch beside him before his broad hands go towards his helmet. 

The blood rushes from your face as a moment of honor and horror wage war in your gut, pulling your heart down towards your feet. 

"Wait!" You shout, startling both of you and you feel heat rise into your cheeks and throat, "I don't want you to feel obligated to take it off. We can just...talk." 

Nervously you fidget with the hem of your skirt, thinking he was going to kick you out for being so lame. 

Boring. 

He stands and you flinch before he sits beside you on the love seat. If you could see his eyes you wondered if they were sparkling. His winter woods smell tickles your nose and you smile. 

"I'd love to just talk. But first." He must notice your ripped shirt as he stands again. Rummaging through his suitcase to find the first edition band tee ever made for TOKYO MOB.

"I couldn't!" You half shout and then squeak, "I shouldn't" 

"I insist." He says softly placing it on your lap before giving you his toned back. The cropped tee he wears shows off the dimples in his lower back that has you thinking of what it would look like while those hips piston into you. Quickly you toss your ripped shirt aside and slip his over your head, relishing the present smell, heart stirring.

"It's safe." You say softly and he turns around taking the seat beside you again. 

After a small awkward silence the two of you begin to talk, the conversation coming easy as you gushed over his voice and where you went to college when he asked. Him wanting to know more about your life and the night ended up being about you instead of him for once and it was nice. 

Nice to not have someone prying or clawing at his neck to find out just who he was and what he looked like, suddenly heat rushes to his pants. His hand comes to rest on your knee just below the hem of your skirt, ringed fingers sliding beneath the black fabric. You swallow, looking into the face of the bird mask and softly speak. 

"How- how would we kiss?" It feels stupid, embarrassing that you would even think that. He kills the light by the love seat flooding the room in total darkness before he takes off his helmet with a clatter. 

"Like this." His lips are by your ear now sending ecstacy through your body in the form of a spine tingling shudder. He kisses at your lobe working his way down your throat and then up to your jaw, avoiding your lips as he tastes every inch of you he can. His damp hair tickles your nose as he moves you to him, hovering over you as he kisses the plane of your stomach beneath his lifted shirt. 

"You look damn good in my shirt baby." He trails his tongue up your sternum causing you to moan, he smirks against the bone before sucking at the supple skin of your breast. Choosing them for his canvas to paint in blacks and blues that you would soon come to wish would last a life time. His free hand twists your nipple, pulling it as he scrapes his teeth against your other. Tongue flicking against the sensitive nub another moan escapes your lips as he plays with you for what feels like hours. He doesn't even go to touch your aching cunt until you're covered in a sheen of sweat. Begging for his hands to move lower as your vision spots in the dark from his sensual touch alone. Your own hands explore up his defined abs and torso occasionally catching the cool metal of his chains, this time you decide to pull him into a kiss. Your lips touching his for the first time all night and you feel like a live wire. Hungrily and aggressively trying to devour him as you feel music dancing through your blood, humming in your bones, he groans amplifying the feeling as his clothed hard on presses into your core. His tongue swipes over yours and the thought of not even knowing what he looks like arches your back into his touch. 

Finally he flips your skirt up, his fingers venturing between your thighs and when he finds no fabric and the satisfying sound of your slick he bucks his hips, biting at your breasts. 

"So wet sparrow…." His voice is soft breath and a little desperate causing your cunt to clench. He circles your clit until you're crying, his fingers occasionally checking for a stream of tears. When he feels the droplets on your face he chuckles shoving his fingers knuckle deep going agonizingly slow until you're fluttering around his thick curled digits. You cum hard and he whispers praises in your ear, several times as your body shakes and you think you won't be able to make it through the night. 

"Ready for my cock babe?" He asks gently swiping his thumb over your swollen and heavily abused clit. You perk right up, ready for the finale silently thanking the gods for a band members stamina. You notice him shaking as he leans down for a kiss, his stomach sweaty and sticking to yours. You fist his hair, pulling him back just a bit. 

"You'll be okay?" You can just make out the gleam of his teeth from his smirk before his voice comes out as pure sinful husk. 

"The question is, will you sweet sparrow?" 

Too stunned to answer he swallows your silence with a kiss before he sheaths himself inside you. Relishing the moan in his mouth and the fluttering of your velvet walls as they adjust to him. You were so wet, so ready for him as he slowly rocked his hips. Your half wish from earlier coming true as your hands fly to the dimples of his lower back, trying to urge him to quicken his pace but he keeps it languid, deadly. Each stroke hitting with purpose. The head of his cock hitting that cushy spot as his pelvis snapped against your clit. The sensation sends you into a never ending moan. Each gasp his stage name as he marks you as his, nails raking down your arms as he praises. 

"Such a nice pussy you have. Taking me so fucking well." He lingers by your ear, his tone the opposite of his lustful words. Your own nails claw down his back in viscous lines as he keeps you on the edge. The coil, steady and tight as you feel the pressure in your stomach growing. He can feel how tightly you're squeezing him and how your thighs are locked around his waist. He press his fingers into your stomach as his thumb swipes over your clit, his hips snapping faster and faster as he waits for what he hopes is coming. The pressure becomes too much he overstimulates your body, shaking as you cry out. 

"I can't, I can't…" 

"You can, just for me. Don't be shy, cum for me baby." His deep voice sends a chill through your body, you go rigid, quiet before your body jerks and releases a clear liquid onto his pelvis and cock. Shaking as he fucks your through it before his voice comes out strained as you milk him. 

"Imma cum baby, where do you want it?" 

"In me, I promise I have an IUD just fucking cum Dark Shadow!" You gasp and he obeys, adding to your pleasant after shocks, filling you to the brim with his hot seed with a husky grunt. He collapses onto you fixing your shirt before he gently withdraws, keeping his face to your chest as your fingers find his hair. You try not to let your thoughts wander and as if he could read your mind. 

"I promise you, you're the only one who's made me do that." He kisses your throat gently before his hand searches for your free one, interlacing his fingers with yours before he hums. Slowly singing you to sleep. You welcome the feeling as exhaustion blankets you in darkness.

"Uh miss." The voice comes as a shock as a large man tries to wake you from a distance. You startle, grabbing at blankets to cover yourself although you're fully clothed.  

"Hate to wake you miss but we're locking up. The venue is closed and the band is…" Although he looks a brute he clearly has some sort of heart. Unable to say what you know.  

"Gone." Tears burn your eyes as you think of how stupid you were. To ever think you were special enough to be anything more than a groupie. A note sits on the bedside table. 

"Should we cross paths again, Sparrow. I'll make you forever mine" 

The note blurs as you recognize the lyrics to the song. You look down at his band tee and wonder if your favorite song was more of a gimmick to pick up fans than some fated promise. 

And so life moves on.

You can only tell that time has passed from the fading color of your bruises. Slowly they melt from a cold bluish black into cool greens and warm dotted yellows. You sigh, looking in the mirror before you head towards your room for clothes.  Finally mustering up the courage to wear that stupid band tee he gave you again. It still smells faintly of him, of the winter woods suspended in forever twilight. Of musk from your sweat and his. You fight back the tears as you remind yourself you just put on mascara, finally choosing to participate in a social life after having your heart broken for being a fool. You decided to get ready sooner rather than later, otherwise you would have backed out from the plans and mopped around the house. You figured some coffee would help kill the time as you lace up your converse thinking of your favorite shop. You head out and walk leisurely to the cafe off the beaten path of downtown.  The street is full but not overly so as people browse the shopping district of the huge city you call home. Everyone fades into the background until your eye catches against a handsome man, dressed in tastefully torn black jeans, and an onyx turtleneck. You would be concerned for his attire in this weather if he wasn't so damn handsome. You must catch his eye as well as his face instantly lights up when he makes eye contact. He beats you to the cafe door, holding it open for you with ringed fingers like a gentleman waiting for you to enter. The gesture feels familiar causing your heart to squeeze in your chest, feeling trapped beneath your too small rib cage. As you walk past him you think you smell something familiar. 

Like cedar and pine, dancing on a snowy wind as the sun sets the world on fire. 

Your world on fire as you grip at the front of Dark Shadow's shirt trying not to cry. You just wanted your fucking macchiato and to move on with your life. You had lived every fan's dream of sleeping with your favorite band member. Tasting Dark Shadow's blackberry mouth. Shouldn't that be enough? 

Your aching heart said otherwise. 

Suddenly warmth is behind you, radiating off of a thick body as the handsome man bends over to put his profile to your ear. Goose flesh prickles your skin in late August as he says with a voice that drapes you in sinful black silk.

"You look damn good in my shirt, sparrow." 

#tokoyami smut #tokoyami fukimage #tokoyami x reader #tokoyami x you #bnha x reader #bnha band au #server collab #fukimage x reader

[thechangeling]

She burns like rum on a fire

Why did I do this to myself ughhhhh?

So @adoravel-fenomeno and I were talking about Kit potentially getting into an abusive relationship given that he's statistically likely too given his roots. So now I give you this fic! Sorry. Kit is using he/him in this fic because he hasn't really gone on his gender quest yet.

The title is from Cherry Wine by Hozier. I reccomend you listen to Cherry Wine and Trauma by NF while reading this.

Cw: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, abusive, controlling behavior, negative self talk and extreme denial. Also brief mention of blood.

2013

Don't cry.

Don't cry Kit told himself over and over inside his head as he tried to get a hold of his breathing. As he lay on his bed at 2 in the morning, desperately refreshing his conversation with Autumn.

Autumn or as his best friend Janessa liked to call her "the virus" was Kit's girlfriend. His very first. A mundane with the sight. They had been dating for a few months now. When they had first gotten together everything was amazing, it so it seemed.

They had some much in common and they had fun together. Autumn was hot, funny and charasmatic. She had this way of making him feel like the only person in the room. She showered him with gifts and complements that made Kit finally feel worthy for the first time in his life.

But as time went on things shifted. Autumn insisted on spending almost ever waking second with him. Kit didn't mind at first, he loved hanging out with her. But he missed his parents and his sister, and he knew they missed him too. Whenever they had family movie night, or they wanted Kit to watch Mina, Autumn threw a fit. She insisted that he was ignoring her.

She didn't want him seeing Janessa either, or Nessie as Kit called her for short. Autumn always insisted that she was plotting to steal Kit away from her, which was ridiculous but nothing could change Autumn's mind when she was in a mood. So Kit had found himself blowing Nessie off to hang out with Autumn and making excuses for it.

Kit always felt super guilty for making Autumn so upset. He tried to get out of his agreements if it to stop her from crying but sometimes Tessa and Jem wouldn't let him. It was frustrating when they didn't understand. She would rage for awhile, calling Kit stupid and worthless. Sometimes she would make comments about him being adopted, telling him that Tessa and Jem didn't really love him and they only saw him as a free babysitter for their real child.

She would make jokes about all kinds of things. How Kit wasn't a real shadowhunter, his weight, his past, his bisexuality, his ADHD. Kit knew that Autimn didn't really mean anything by it. It was nothing personal and she didn't really mean it. She loved him. And he loved her.

Tonight had been different though. His grades had taken a turn for the worst because he had been blowing of the tutoring sessions the school had payed for as a part of his accommodations. Because he had been spending that time with Autumn. Kit knew it was a bad idea to miss those, but his girlfriend needed him. She didn't have anybody else. She couldn't count on her parents like he could, and she didn't really have any friends.

But Kit was in big trouble. Tessa and Jem were mad. The school was mad. People were saying that Kit was ungrateful.

Ah yes because every disabled person should just bend down and kiss the feet of every person that deigns to give them what they're legally entitled to.

But Kit knew that he had really screwed up this time. He tried to explain to Autumn that he couldn't see her as often as he used to anymore because he needed to fix his grades. And she absolutely lost it. Which he had been expecting.

However what Kit hadn't been expecting this time was for her to hit him.

And she hit him hard. Punched him straight in the nose. And sure it wasn't that big of a deal. Kit was a shadowhunter and he was pretty much used to being hit. But he hadn't been expecting it.

And there was just so much blood.

Autumn of course instantly apologized profusely. She kissed him over and over and told him that she loved him and she didn't mean to. And Kit knew she was telling the truth but-

But he still felt a sinking feeling in his chest that he couldn't explain.

But Kit had applied an iratze, wiped off the blood, and now everything was as good as new. When he had arrived back home, his parents had noticed anything or asked him any questions.

Now he was lying awake at 2 in the morning, filled with guilt and worry as he waited for Autumn to text him back. He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously as he tried not to over think things.

Maybe she was still mad at him? Was there something else Kit was supposed to say or do? Or maybe he should just leave her alone for awhile?

It was maddening.

Kit turned off his phone and threw it down in frustration, pulling his giant red and black flannel over his shoulders and curling in on himself. He felt strangely exhausted, but unable to sleep. His nose and left eye socket still throbbed a little despite the fact that they should be healed.

Kit thought about using another iratze but his steele was across the room and he couldn't bring himself to stand up to go get it.

God he really was pathetic. Maybe he deserved this. Tears welled up in Kit's eyes.

Don't cry. Don't cry.

This time Kit couldn't hold it back. So he let himself cry. Tears came streaming down his cheeks as he tried to muffle his sobs with his hand. Deep down he knew it was his fault. It was always his fault.

But with Autumn he had really tried. Sure he wasn't perfect but Kit really cared about her. And it wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough.

Kit couldn't help but think of the last time he felt like this. The last time he was rejected. He had been careful about trying to keep all thoughts of Ty Blackthorn out of his head for awhile. Autumn was a good distraction, even when she was screaming obscenities at him. It was still a distraction.

Kit closed his eyes and conjured the memory of holding Ty up on the roof. If he squeezed his eyes tightly enough, Kit could still feel the softness of his hoodie and the slight tickle of Ty's dark hair against his skin. He could conjure the smell of Ty's skin and the way he had trembled slightly against Kit's body.

I should have kissed him. Kit mused, hugging himself tightly. Just once. Even if Ty had pushed him away in disgust, it would have been worth it. Just to know what it felt like.

Suddenly from the bottom of the bed, Kit's phone lit up with a call. He scrambled to grab it, thinking it was Autumn, but it was actually Janessa. Kit cleared his throat, trying to make his voice sound normal as he answered the phone.

"Why are you calling me at 2 am Nessie?"

"The better question is why are you still awake at 2 am," she pointed out, sounding smug. "I'm a vampire. Creature of the night remember? It's kinda prime time for me Kit Kat."

Kit smiled as he felt the previous angst wash away. "Yeah fair enough. But still, why are you calling me?"

Kit heard her sigh into the phone. "Well honestly because this is probably the only time you're free now a days," she said spitefully. "You know thanks to she-who-must-not-be-named." Kit rolled his eyes.

"That's my girlfriend you're talking about, Janessa!" He snapped.

"Well your girlfriend's a total bitch!"

Normally Kit would argue with her and tell her that she was way off base. That Autumn wasn't so bad and that she was trying. That she loved him. But today he just couldn't.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "We got into another fight tonight," he admitted. "Just a few hours ago actually."

"I'm sorry love," Janessa murmed. Nessie wasn't British. She was actually Canadian. But she had moved around the world with her previous band before settling in Devon and leaving them to go solo. She had picked up on some British expressions though.

"I wish you weren't going through this. But Kit, you gotta break up with her! She's bad news!"

Kit rested his face against the palm of his left hand. "I can't," he groaned.

Janessa let out a frustrated yell on the other end of the phone. "What the hell are you planning on doing Kit!? I mean are you just gonna wait into she hits you or what?" She spat.

"She already did," Kit responded instantly without missing a beat.

He gasped and slapped a hand to cover his mouth. Kit had no idea why he actually told her. Impulsivity maybe? Or maybe he just needed to get it out. But he instantly regretted it.

There was a long uncomfortable silence on the other end of the phone. Kit was just about to ask Janessa where she went when suddenly she spoke.

"I'm coming over."

Kit tried to protest but she hung up on him.

Before he had time to panic or scream or throw something, there was an aggressive tapping on his window. Of course. Janessa had vampire speed. He looked up to see Nessie perched on his windowsill looking solem.

Her long black curly hair was pulled into a high ponytail and she wore what by her standards was probably a casual outfit. A black long sleeved low cut crop top and white ripped skinny jeans tucked into thigh high heeled leather boots. And of course, she wore a full face of makeup. Even after the facial feminization surgery she was still a little insecure about going out without makeup on.

Nessie banged on his window again, more impatiently and Kit jumped up to let her in. She landed on his bedroom floor with the grace of a cat, making no sound. She stared at him silently with an expression that Kit found hard to decipher.

"Show me where," she whispered in that deep raspy voice of hers. She reached for his face and Kit let Janessa cradle his face with her hands and tried not to wince as her cold skin came into contact with his.

He shook his head. "No you won't see it, I put an iratze on it already. It's done." Janessa scoffed and stepped back.

"You know the damage isn't just skin deep Kit," she said pointedly. "No matter how much you want to pretend it is."

He glared at her. "Wow that's so insightful Nessie!," he said sarcastically. "What else you got?"

"Oh come on Kit you know I'm right," She hissed. "You have to end it!"

Kit shook his head. Why does she keep saying that?

"No. Why should I?" Kit retorted. "She loves me." He tried to sound as confident as he could, but truthfully he wasn't so sure anymore.

Autumn had gone above and beyond to make Kit feel loved and appreciated yo the point where she was almost obsessive. But she could also be cruel and spiteful. Kit had convinced himself that he should be happy with what he had because it was as good as he was gonna get.

And the sad part was that was still true.

"No she doesn't," Janessa breathed desperately. To Kit's horror, it looked like she was about to cry. Kit couldn't remember if he had ever seen her cry. Not once.

"Somebody who really loved you could never hurt you like that!" She protested shakily, her voice warbled as tears spilled down her face.

Kit could feel his tears returning at the sight of Nessie crying. He rushed towards her and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her neck. In the comfort of his best friend's embeace he allowed himself to finally sob. He cried for that broken niave part of himself that kept getting hurt.

She rested her chin on the top of his head, (she was taller then him,) and held him close. "Please promise me you will break up with her," Janessa begged.

"I just don't get it," Kit whispered against her skin. "I did everything right. I did everything I could." He blinked back tears. "Why doesn't she love me Nessie?"

He felt her shake against him. "I don't know Kit," she sobbed. "But I love you ok? I love you and your parents love you, and Mina loves you so much!"

Kit sighed, pulling back to wipe his tears. "I know, but what if I, you know-. What if I never find someone? Like romantically?"

Janessa studied him, raising her eyebrow. "Well do you need to find someone? Who is this arbitrary someone who can give you something a friendship can't?"

That's actually a good point.

"I mean," Nessie continued, crossing her arms and shifting her weight. "If you do end up in a relationship then cool, it's whatever. But the way I see it is you shouldn't focus all of your energy on looking because you're gonna end up missing out on some pretty cool stuff in the mean time." She smiled.

Kit thought about it. He knew logically Janessa had a point. But he just couldn't feel it. He was too depressed and defeated. And as ashamed as it made him, Kit still missed Autumn. He tried to smile along with Nessie but it must have looked weak because she looked concerned.

"Hey," she cooed, reaching for him.

"Can you sing to me Nessie?" He asked. Kit  felt a little pathetic but hopefully she wouldn't judge him.

She smiled lovingly at him. "Sure." Janessa took his hand and led him to his bed.

"Any requests?" She asked as she pulled off her boots and lay down on Kit's bed. He followed her, snuggling up against Nessie with his back to her.

"No not really," he murmered, closing his eyes. Kit was finally starting to feel how exhausted he really was.

Janessa wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close, resting her head slightly against his shoulder. "Ok," she whispered very softly.

Kit heard her clear her throat softly before the sound of her breathy angelic alto filled his ears.

"I'm turning out the lights, to remember how to see. Till the renaissance takes place, Until a renaissance takes place, and resuscitates the color of paint and divinity."

Kit smiled sleepily at the sound of his enneagram song, something Janessa had introduced him to.

He yawned and let the sound of Nessie's voice lull him to sleep, putting all thoughts of Autumn behind him.

In my head Kit is like 5'4 and Janessa is 5'9. Originally I had her at 5'11 but I wanted her to be closer in height to Kit. Also did I name Kit's abusive girlfriend Autumn after my toxic controlling ex best friend? You bet I did!

Tag list: (you know the deal) @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies   @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @foxglove-airmid @littlx-songbxrd @clarys-heosphoros @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan @hardlymatters @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @adoravel-fenomeno

#tsc #tda #twp #the dark artifices #kit herondale #fae's oc #the wicked powers #janessa williams #platonic soulmates for the win

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 2]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: Language

Collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

“this chick is crazy...and I kinda dig it“

It’s been four days since the incident and he’s all but forgotten about it, removed it from his memory entirely as if girls hide from police in his car on a regular basis. 

Today is colder than usual, and his body has been quick to respond to the change, aching around the joints. Some days it’s impossible to move, feeling his clothes and sandpaper and housing spikes as joints. Thankfully, today isn’t that bad, the pain is rather manageable. Which checks out well for him, considering he has to do some cleaning around his apartment. His skin itched at the sight of the mess his living space has become over the last few weeks he hasn’t been bothered to pick up the strewn about items or wash the dishes in the sink. 

Standing in his living room, he turns in a circle, taking in the disaster that is surrounding him. His chest tightens, throat closing up due to the overwhelmingness of the work he has ahead of him while all he wants to do is hide in his room, under the blankets of his bed that is for sure not willing to offer him much comfort at the moment, seeing as how it too is a mess. 

Forget about that! He isn’t sure if his mind is telling him to forget the task he has at hand or the comfort he has in mind. Either way, he knows what the right thing to do is. It may give him anxiety, but it has to be done. 

He clenches his jaw and closes his eyes, taking deep measured breaths and exhaling slowly just like his doctor had instructed him to do, in hopes to ease the tension around his lungs. 

Calming down a bit, he finally decides to get on with it, starting with the smallest space he has to clean, hoping accomplishing a small victory would fuel his ambition to move onto the actual rooms with a lesser struggle. So, pulling on his favorite hoodie and a beanie over his black curls, he slips out of the front door and down the stairs of his apartment complex with a trash bag in hand. He may hate cleaning, but he hates messes more, therefore it’s an easy call to make. Easy when putting the two in comparison, a struggle when he actually has to get on with the process of cleaning. 

With a deep breath as a final ‘You got this’ before action, he unlocks his car doors and looks around its interior. He starts off with the junk in the front - first tending to the passenger seat where he finds a couple plastic bags and a few water bottles. He keeps the area around the driver’s seat clean as can be, so he skips that side. Unfortunately, now he has to turn to the nightmare that is the backseats. 

While it may be tame, compared to most, the three paper bags, five disposable coffee cups that he’d dropped to the floor are more than enough to annoy him. He also makes a frustrating find of a hoodie, a few shirts, a hat, and what appears to be a forgotten CVS bag of medication. Much to his dismay, there’s more: handfuls of old receipts that he is now shoving into the garbage bag he has in hand along with straw wrappers, a few stray cold fries dating back to God-knows-when. He sighs, somewhat relieved to see the backseat is doing a lot better now than it was a couple minutes ago, though it’s not even entirely clean just yet. Something catches his eye though - a choker that was probably covered by one of the clothing items he had found. He picks it up, turning it over in his hand. It’s made of soft leather with a gunmetal ”C” and a pentagram embossed on it. It has a leather braided cord on both ends to tie together and no price tag or brand to indicate its origin. He can’t remember buying this...but then again, retail therapy is a thing and it wouldn’t be the first time he forgot a purchase. He gives it one final once-over before shrugging and pocketing it. After collecting the headphones he’d also dumped in the back and retrieving a pair of boots from the trunk, he locks up his car and heads back into the building, mentally preparing himself for facing the terror of cleaning his apartment.

Returning to his place after tossing the trash in the dumpster along the way, Corpse locks the front door behind him and proceeds to drop the things he’s brought back near the front door. 

This defeats the purpose of cleaning up in the first place, Corpse. He scolds himself but that’s what it remains at - just a scold. He slips the hoodie off his torso, but pauses when the leather collar falls to the floor. Tossing the clothing item on a dining room chair behind him, he picks up the choker and, without as much as a second thought, places it around his throat just below his Adam’s apple The metal feels cool against his skin and as he ties the leather cords at the back of his neck the corners of his lips curve upwards just a little. 

I probably look stupid. He thinks to himself. Corpse tries not to look much at his own reflection, mostly because it’s a reminder of how little sleep he gets with the dark circles and worn out, exhausted eyes staring back at him whenever he looks. But when he catches a glimpse of himself in his peripheral on his way to piss, he admires his reflection, or more so the way the black leather stands out across his pale skin. He’s gotta admit, it looks pretty cool. Edgy. Very urban. Goth maybe? But he still prefers the chains he’s known to wear over chokers.

After doing his business, he starts heading toward his office with the intention of recording a new story for his channel if he manages to find a decent submission - and also to ignore the cleaning he still had to do eventually - when the sound of someone banging on the door of his neighbor’s apartment makes him jump, thinking the sound was coming from his door instead. Being the nosey bitch he is, he creeps to his door, listening to the muffled and almost completely incomprehensible voices from across the hall. The screaming match taking place is making him rather nervous and anxious and as much as he’d rather hide in his room and pretend he never heard or saw anything, he also doesn’t want the altercation to escalate into anything physical. 

“You fucking bailed on me!” An angry female shout dominates over the other voice, a male one, that’s quick to follow the previous example with the tone volume.

“You almost got caught, it's not my fault you screwed up!” It’s the male’s turn to shout, his words intriguing Corpse.

Got caught? Screwed up what?

“Fuck you! You don’t just ditch like that! That’s such a dick move!” 

Ditched? If it wasn’t for the ‘getting caught’ part I would’ve thought it was a flopped date?

“I wasn’t about to get arrested for your klepto ass! I’m done with your shit!” The male voice takes the upper hand again, and though the female attempts to speak, she’s promptly cut off by the male, “No! No, I said I’m fucking done! Get the fuck out of my apartment!” A loud bang that sounded remarkably like a chair being flipped over made Corpse jump again with his thoughts once again racing to try and make sense of the situation. 

Klepto? So she’s a thief. Great. He rolls his eyes, not that he needed a reminder that he lives in a bad neighborhood, but he sure got it. He inhales slowly, finally deciding to check the aftermath in the hallway. Again, it isn’t his business whatsoever, but he can’t rest easy until he knows there isn’t an injured person outside his door right now. He peeks out the peephole before unlocking the door and sticking his head out to see a long haired individual still standing in front of his neighbor’s door. They have their back turned to him and are getting prepared to start banging on the door once again. 

“Little scared-ass bitch! I’ll be back for my shit!” She screams, kicking the door to punctuate her point. 

This chick is absolutely nuts. Everything in his gut is telling him to turn around and go back inside but his brain’s less-rational side is convincing him to check on her. He carefully steps into the hallway, swallowing nervously as he reaches out to tap her shoulder. “Are um-...you okay?”

The girl whips around, a furious expression on her face. Corpse makes a pause, his eyes widening at the sight of that familiar face.

Holy shit, I know this girl. 

Standing in front of him is the girl who leaped into the backseat of his car only a few days ago. 

Shit! What are the odds? 

She’s wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a cropped sweatshirt with the quote “Mercury’s in Gatorade or Some Shit” written in bold letters and a solar system around it, with a leather jacket on top. 

His mouth dries when he makes a realization... 

Oh fuck. She’s way prettier in the natural light instead of that ugly light I saw her in that night. 

“Oh hey! Parking lot guy! What are y-...is that my choker?” She interrupts herself, looking closer at the black leather on his pale skin, her brows furrowing. He’d forgotten he was even wearing it to be honest, but she seems to recognize it. “That’s my fucking choker, dude! I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” She reaches up seemingly with the intention of taking it off him, causing his whole body to freeze up.

Finally finding his senses, Corpse takes half a step back, eyes slightly widened, “Woah, hey! Easy there, I’m pretty sure I bought this.” He warns, hands hesitantly held out in front of himself to try and create some distance between them. 

She seems not to take the hint at his desire for personal space as she reaches out again, stepping closer. “No, I made it with my own two hands, man! It’s got a C on it for my name - Cora.” She says sharply to the point of anger that honestly frightens him a bit. 

He quickly unties the leather straps, removing it from his neck. However, he refuses to give it back so easily as he holds it up out of her reach. 

Maybe if it isn’t on me she won’t be all up in his personal space. Yeah, it’s a bit evil, but he didn’t care. Besides, part of him is still mad about the fact she used his car as a hiding spot, shooting his anxiety through the roof in the process. 

“I feel like you owe me for those fries you stole last time we saw each other. Make it up to me and I’ll give it back. If it’s even yours, that is...” He says, brows furrowing slightly and eyes narrowing as he takes another step back. “And, you know, for nearly getting me busted by the police for something I wasn’t even a part of.” 

Sure, he was talking but her eyes are wandering analyzing him: first the silver chains around his neck that glimmer in the light and his dark hair, strands dangling carelessly as a curtain over his face. 

He too finds himself admiring her, memorizing her features better in this light. She has olive skin and sports a little bit of a tan. Stray locks of wavy dark brown hair hang around her ears having come loose from her messy bun. She has earthy brown eyes with flecks of green that he can’t help but stare at, despite their current sharpness. Her right arm is decorated with a few small tattoos: a skull of some sort of animal that appears to be puking flowers; a small cartoon t-rex floating via many colorful balloons and a brain with a spiky spiral in the center of it. She has a single line drawn around her pinky finger on the hand of the other arm and the shadowy silhouette of a forest around her wrist. However, the one thing Corpse could see better than all of that, was she is pissed. 

“Gimme my fucking choker back! I paid you for those fries, it’s not my fault you spent them on douchebag lessons!” She snaps, hopping to try and grab his arm. 

She is pressed up against him now, a wave of perfume hitting him when she attempts another jump. He holds the choker higher, maybe even subconsciously, just enjoying the warm presence of another body for as long as possible - not that he’d admit that. 

Corpse’s brief content comes crashing down as he stumbles backwards when he feels something hard on his hip and her hands grabbing at the front of his shirt. 

“Wait-“ He tries to say, but is cut off when a good amount of weight pulls at his jeans. “Oh Fuck!” He rasps out, dropping the choker as he slams onto the floor. In the split second he spared to take a breath, his pants had been yanked down to his knees and his neck was crooked up against his door. He’s now lying on the floor as the girl hovers over him having landed with her hand on top of his head and one leg over his chest while the other is pinning his arm down.

While remaining unmoving under the girl, he takes a moment to let the previous five seconds sink in before replaying them in his mind:

This small woman, Cora she said her name was, had put the boot clad toes of her left foot into the pocket of his baggy jeans to use as a stepping stool. In turn, they were shoved down, effectively pantsing him and tearing the pocket before knocking them both to the floor. 

Corpse leans against his door, jeans still around his knees, hair a mess as he watches Cora stand up from where she’d practically tackled him and equip the choker. 

“Serves you right.” She sticks her tongue out, tying the piece of jewelry behind her neck. “Now get up before someone calls the cops, we both know what happens then.” She rolls her eyes and bends down, offering her hands to help him up after he situated his trousers.

“Ah-um...I-...” anxiety started reigning in his chest and head as he realized everything that had happened. He takes both her hands and she uses all her weight to pull him up. Her pull was so strong that when he stood up, he had to hold her tight to keep her from falling back. He stabilizes her, maybe a little too hard because her chest collides with his. He apologizes under his breath, releasing her hands quickly. “Don’t people buy dinner first before yanking off their pants?” He snorts, trying to make light of the situation and crossing his arms over his chest. “But then again, you stole my dinner.” 

“Are you insinuating I should take off my pants?” She asks with a smirk. 

Corpse nearly chokes on his own inhale, eyes wide as he quickly looks away.

Oh my god is she serious? “N-no!” He says, perhaps too quickly. Too loudly. His cheeks turned dark pink as he gapes at her for a moment before furrowing his brows again. He hunches his shoulders a little, doing his best to avoid those sharp hazel eyes. 

She’s pretty. Way too pretty for him and now she has him all flustered. This girl has way too much power over the agoraphobic anxiety bundle that is Corpse. 

“Oh so you’re insinuating that I should buy you dinner since I took off your pants?” She prompts, eyes narrowing with a delighted little smirk on her face. She has to be enjoying watching him squirm in embarrassment, otherwise, why would she keep asking questions like that? Of course she does. She is like every other girl in his life.

“I’m..-just...Forget it.” He mumbles, shrinking back away from her as he turns to go back inside the safety of his apartment. 

She’s probably making fun of me. Great, as if I didn’t have enough self-esteem issues already.

Before he could get inside, a hand grabs his shirt at the small of his back. “Hey, I’m just fucking with you, dude.” She says, giving the shirt’s fabric a tug. 

He turns and looks at her with wary eyes, wondering if she was trying to goad him into falling for her taunting again. But the ice in her gaze has melted and she gives him a crooked smile. “Lemme buy you dinner to pay you back. It’s the least I can do after you helped keep my ass out of jail.” She releases his shirt after a brief moment of reluctance and then offers her hand to him for a handshake. “Oh, I should introduce myself, officially this time. I’m Cora.” 

Corpse looks at her hand and carefully takes it. She has small hands and his long fingers practically engulfed hers as he shakes it lightly. He gives her his name in return and she smiles that light filled, beaming smile he remembers from the car. 

“Nice to, um- meet you, I guess.” He finds himself staring at her, unknowingly still holding her hand in his until she looks up and grins a little wider. 

“This seems like a roundabout way to hold my hand, bro. You could have just asked,you know.” She teases, but this time it felt okay, his embarrassment having faded slightly, but he still hurries to look away and release his hold on her. 

Corpse murmurs a quick apology, but before he could stick his hand back into the ripped pocket of his jeans, she takes hold of it again, tugging him forward. “Come on, lock your door. I’ll buy you something to eat. You drive though.” She lets go of his hand after a moment and, much to his surprise, he catches himself missing the warmth that it provided him while it was there. Turning, he ducked into his apartment to grab his hoodie and keys, feeling suddenly thankful he’d cleaned his car out.

Taglist: @vixenl  @fockingwhore

#corpse #corpse husband #husband #corpsehusband #corpse fanfic #corpse fic #corpse fandom #corpse fanfiction #corpse fluff #corpse x oc #corpse x original character #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x oc #corpse husband x female reader #corpse x y/n #corpse x you #corpse x reader #corpse supremacy #corpse simp #corpse hands #corpse husband is ruining my life #fic #fan #fandom #fanfic #fanfiction #original female character

[sharkfish]

[for @transbingo square “supportive friends & family”] [all my ficlets]

The first thing Cas does is nothing: time for a haircut comes and goes, but instead of heading to the barber they just watch their hair grow shaggier around the ears, bangs starting to fall over their forehead. It’s a mess but it makes their face seems softer somehow, which softens something that’s been hard around their heart since puberty. 

The second thing Cas does is buy a pair of skinny jeans. They’ve always admired the way a pair of combat boots looks laced over a skin-tight pair of jeans, and they stomp around their house with glee once they finally find a pair that fit. 

The third thing Cas does is buy a handful of different kinds of eyeliner at Walgreens. They’ve never been particularly drawn to the high femme of makeup, but it’s fun to play, and smudged kohl makes their eyes look bright and big. 

The fourth thing Cas does is buy a purple backpack. It’s their favorite color, but they’ve always shied away from it, afraid someone will notice that they’re not quite right, as their mother always said. 

The fifth thing Cas does is be too afraid to tell anyone. They open their mouth and text threads dozens of times, just to close again. They know it’s stupid — they aren’t even the first trans person in their friend group — but there’s this fear rotting in their stomach that someone will laugh and say they’re wrong. There’s a fear that person might be right. 

They finally rip off the bandaid with the easiest one: Charlie. Cas still just does it via text, which feels cowardly but better than never doing it at all. I recently realized I’m non-binary, they type, and Charlie responds right away with, Eee! Congrats!!! Have you told Dean yet? 

There’s more than one thing Cas hasn’t told Dean, including this. Cas hasn’t told Dean that they’ve been in love with him practically since they met, back when Dean still thought he was straight and Cas thought it was hopeless for an entirely different reason than they do now. Now they know it’s hopeless because Dean came out years ago and never took a second look at Cas.

But Dean has to find out eventually, and Dean will be hurt if he’s the last one to know, so after a couple of beers on a Saturday afternoon Cas says, “I need to talk to you about something.” 

“Who told you?” Dean asks, smile fading. 

“I recently real—” Cas cuts themselves off from the words they practiced. “Told me what?” 

Dean blinks his lovely doe eyes at Cas. “About — you know. My stupid feelings.” 

“Your feelings?” Cas says, feeling a little lost. 

Dean looks down at his beer bottle. 

“Feelings for me?” 

“Don’t be an asshole. Did Charlie tell you?” 

“I didn’t know,” Cas says. Their entire world spins like the first time they realized they aren’t a man after all. “Truly, I didn’t.” 

“Then what the hell did you want to talk about?” 

“Your feelings may change,” Cas says. They wonder if they would have pushed this all down if they knew about Dean’s feelings before. If they would have decided Dean’s affections are worth more than knowing themselves a little better. “I wanted to tell you that I’m — I’m non-binary.” 

Dean looks up and Cas’s heart stops. “Uh,” Dean says. “Was that a secret? Cuz I thought I knew that. You didn’t?” 

Cas’s brow furrows. “You knew?” 

“Well. Yeah.” 

“Oh.” 

“Sorry to steal your thunder. Want to try again and I’ll act surprised?” 

Cas laughs. Dean gives them a relieved smile, like he’s the one with something to be relieved about. “No, that’s ok. I just wish you had told me.” 

“Probably not my business to tell someone about their own gender,” Dean says. 

“That’s a good point.” Cas looks over, and Dean blushes under the inspection. Because Cas is learning to be a little braver, the sixth thing they do is ask their best friend on a date. 

#transbingo #ficlets #sharkwrites

[elvendara]

Sugar and Spice Day 3

July 14th

Rock concert (Rockstar/Fan)

“Five minutes till curtains up!” the man ran backstage shouting over the din. Saeran expected a knock on his door shortly and sure enough, it came. Without waiting for an answer, the man opened the door to let him know the time limit. Saeran locked eyes with him through the mirror and nodded.

Once the door was again closed, he stared at himself. He’d long ago bleached his hair white to differentiate himself from his twin. Saeyoung worked in the shadows, it wouldn’t do to have a famous brother who looked exactly like him. He also utilized colored lenses. It served two purposes, he didn’t need to wear glasses, in fact, his fans didn’t even know he needed them, and the mint green was a stark contrast to his regular, amber-colored eyes. The pink tips were a more recent addition, but he liked them.

Black eyeliner was expertly applied, years of practice making it almost effortless. He took a sponge and smudged it, giving himself that perfect edgy look. The earrings were already in, silver crosses dangling on each side of his face. Ironic really, considering he didn’t believe in God. The thick black silver studded collar was snuggly around his neck as was the matching cuff around his right wrist. He stood and grabbed his leather jacket, sliding it on and glancing into the full-length mirror he had been given in his dressing room. He was comfortable in this persona. The music had been a way for him to deal with his life. Writing down his anger, confusion, and loneliness was a way to get it out of him. It became bigger than him pretty quickly and he found that hiding behind rock stardom meant he didn’t have to answer any real questions about his true self. It worked. Except it kept him lonely and alone. He’d come to terms with spending the rest of his life that way. It was easier than imagining being real with someone. Who could ever love the real him anyway?

He smirked at his reflection as he laced up his biker boots. Time to bring the house down!

..

He was soaked in sweat but didn’t feel tired. In fact, he felt invigorated, like every time he finished a concert. Feeding off the audience was one of the biggest perks to his career. Someone handed him a towel and he wiped his face with it.

“Great show Saeran!” one of the concert coordinators told him. She held a tablet to her chest and had a handful of fans behind her. Five doe eyed girls and one shy looking boy. Well, now that he looked closer, he was definitely a man, close to his own age. He looked sheepish being with the teenaged groupies. “These are the VIP’s for tonight’s afterparty. Thought I’d introduce you before you change.”

“Nice! Great to meet you, I’m glad we’ll be hanging out tonight. Hope you have a good time. Congrats on winning the backstage passes.” He regurgitated. There wasn’t always an afterparty but there were some special guests, rich, who had paid for the whole thing, so he’d been pressed to oblige them with an appearance. He hated the politics of being famous, but he did love his fans. It was because of them that he could enjoy what he did. If it was up to him, he’d fill the party with fans and not rich entitled groupies. He knew he would spend the night fending off offers to ‘get to know each other better’ all night.

“Oh my GOD! It’s really you!”

“Wow! You’re so HOT!”

“Ahhh, my friends are never gonna believe this!”

The girls were just cookie cutter versions of every other girl he’d seen. He couldn’t blame them; it’s how they sold his image. The man looked embarrassed; he wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He took the chance to check him out. He appeared to be a tad shorter than himself, with blond hair and pink clips holding back his bangs. He wore one of his concert shirts and tight-fitting skinny jeans. His nails were painted alternating pink and black with the black ones having his band’s logo on it, a mint green eye. So he really was a fan. Cute too.

“Uh, well, like the lady said, I have to go get changed for the party, I’ll see you all there. And be sure to grab your swag bags before you leave, don’t let them rip you off there! There’s a CD with a snippet of some of our new songs.” He winked and walked off. There was a lot of oohing and ahhing as he left.

He took a quick shower and dressed in a ripped black T-shirt, black jeans and his biker boots, putting all his accessories back on and reapplying his eyeliner. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked out to the convention center next to the arena. Of course he wasn’t alone, he had security that surrounded him and paparazzi snapping pics as he made his way to the party. They screamed questions at him that he didn’t answer, he smirked, the signature look the media had come to know him by. Surrounded by so many yet feeling so alone. Making it next door took longer than it should have because of the circus around him, but make it he did.

Once he was inside he was taken by the arm by the coordinator who had introduced him to the fans, he couldn’t remember her name but she seemed nice enough. At least she didn’t flirt with him like other women did and took her job seriously.

“You’re here, great, first you should go say hi to the Han family, they’re the ones footing the bill for this afterparty, then you can have a few minutes with the fans before talking to some reporters…”

“Whoah.” He stopped in his tracks and could swear she left skid marks with her heels she’d been going so fast. “I want more than just a few minutes with those fans, and who are all these people anyway?” He saw his bandmates and some of the roadies, but everyone else was a stranger.

“Nobody you need to worry about, uh, I’ll see what I can do with the schedule.” She seemed frazzled but clicked away on her tablet while heading off again. He assumed he should follow, so he did.

“Mr. Han, I appreciate you taking the time and effort for this function.” Saeran greeted the elderly man.

“Ah, of course of course, anything for my new bride!” he had his arm around a young woman who was clearly less than half his age. The rumors about C&R’s head were obviously true. Standing on his other side was a tall and elegant man who appeared to wish he was anywhere but here. He’d seen that face plastered on magazines of all sorts. The heir apparent, Director of C&R, Jumin Han. They nodded respectfully at each other, Saeran feeling sorry for the man and having to deal with his father’s escapades, but the old man seemed like a descent sort. After a few minutes of his ‘wife’ fawning all over him, making him feel uncomfortable, the coordinator pulled him away. He was thankful to her for saving him.

She escorted him towards a section in the back, past all the dancing and the loud music, that was closed off. The music was still loud but at least he could hear himself think. In the section the fans sat, eating and drinking snacks on the coffee table. They all stood up and rushed him. Well, the girls did, touching him and giggling. Where were their parents? They didn’t look old enough to be out. They sat him down and pressed against him. The blond man sat to the side in a chair and continued to sip his cola and eat the snacks, sneaking a look now and then. He wished he could just be alone with him and have a conversation. At least he wouldn’t try to crawl on his lap like these girls seemed to want to do. Well, maybe he wouldn’t mind if the blond tried that.

After about 30 minutes, which felt like a lifetime, the coordinator gathered up the girls and took them out. It was past midnight and he guessed he had been right about their age, couldn’t have minors out at all hours of the night. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It felt like they had leached some of his life force out and he was drained.

“I guess that happens all the time to you huh?”

Saeran sat up abruptly, how could he have forgotten about the blond?

“Sorry, I’ll go if you want to be alone.” He stood and Saeran panicked.

“NO!” he stood, banging his knee on the coffee table, sending him on his ass back on the sofa. He grabbed at the knee, eyes scrunched, “Ow ow ow…”

“Let me see.” Suddenly there was a presence by him as the blond sat beside him, his fingers touching his knee. Because of the ripped jeans, it was easy to see his skin in that area. “Doesn’t look so bad, at least you didn’t break the skin. You’ll have a hell of a bruise though.” The blond raised his gaze to Saeran and he finally got to see the full view. Wow, those eyes knocked him out, was that color even natural? Maybe he was wearing amethyst-colored lenses like what he himself wore. His face was kind, a soft pink flush growing across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. It was adorable.

“Ah, that was really stupid of me. But…I’m glad you didn’t leave. We didn’t even get a chance to chat.” Saeran tried to regain his coolness but found he couldn’t seem to be bothered to try and act in front of this man. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“Yoosung. Don’t have to ask yours I guess.” He smiled, lighting up the entire room.

“Yoosung…I like it.”

“Thanks. I…uh…like you. I mean…I…your music…I…I…like your music…and…uh…I”

Saeran laughed and waved off Yoosung’s explanation.

“So you’re a fan huh? And what…a doctor?” he asked, placing his foot on the ground gently, still rubbing his knee.

“Not quite. But I am going to medical school. And yes, a BIG fan!” his eyes got large, as did his smile. “Your songs spoke to me when I was at a really low point. I don’t know, it felt like you knew what I was going through and understood my pain.” The smile faltered as his thoughts went back to those days. Saeran reached out and placed his hand on Yoosung’s, yes, he knew what it was like to be in pain, he could see it in his eyes.

Their eyes met, an understanding passing between them.

#my posts #fic #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #mysme #mystic messenger #Sugar and Spice #Day 3 #July 14th #OK #I know these are supposed to be Saeran as Spice #but damn if he isn't the sweetest baby boi! #He just wants to be loved!

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Title:  Faith, Trust and a Little Bit of Pixie Dust

Summary: It’s cold in the cellar, but then if it isn’t cold it’d defeat the whole purpose of a cellar. This coldness had been fine at first, but the longer Logan and his little brother Virgil stay, the more it worsens. Logan just hopes his mother’s temper wears off soon or else the cold could get fatal. 

The last thing Logan expects is for his father, who he hasn’t seen in years, to show up through golden portal (a magic portal, which should be impossible!) to save the day as if he hadn’t abandoned them to this fate by leaving all those years ago.

Pairings: Brotherly Analogical, Parental Loceit

Word-Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Magic, Child Abuse, Physical & Emotional Abuse, Unhealthy Romantic Relationship, Hypothermia, Alcohol, Death Mention, Morally Grey Janus, Crying, Angst With a Happy Ending

This fic was at times both frustrating and fun to write. I have no plans to continue this fic, but you can ask me questions regarding the ‘verse and I’ll answer them. Janus has good intentions in this fic he’s just bad at expressing them and we’re also seeing this from Logan’s pov.

--

It was cold in the cellar. Then again, it would be rather alarming were it the opposite case. Cellars were historically used to store perishable items such as vegetables and meats in a time before refrigerators existed. Still prolonged exposure to such an absence of heat wasn’t good for any human being. Not without proper clothing or heating methods. Something both Logan and his young brother unfortunately lacked. 

At first with just a t-shirt and jeans it’d been fine. A bit chilly but fine. What Logan hadn’t accounted for was a cold front to settle in unexpectedly. Within an hour, it dropped by forty degrees. His little brother Virgil wasn’t fond of physical touch. Yet the young child clung to Logan for warmth. It wasn’t enough. His skinny frame still trembled, his lips turning blue. Logan himself felt the effects of his body trying uselessly to warm the cold environment around them. Still his bit his lips from shivering, desperate to attempt staying strong for Virgil.

“I-I-I’m s-s-scared.” Virgil cried, digging his head into Logan’s shirt.

I...I know.” Logan said, stroking his brother’s hair gently, “Things are...things will be alright.”

Logan had repeated this statement many times already to Virgil. Each time he grew less sure of it. However, he knew he had to remain strong for his brother’s sake. Ever since his brother was a baby, Logan had to grow up faster. Much faster than even before. Sometimes he resented this fact, but never for long. It was simply the way things were.

“C-c-c-can you tell me a story?” Virgil asked, and of course Logan obliged. For he knew the unspoken words in that request: I’m still scared. Can you make it less scary? 

A story, for both the listener and teller, would be a beneficial distraction. Even though Logan was not a good storyteller. Once he did a short story assignment in middle school and received a C. His heart metaphorically sank at the sight of it and he dreaded going home that day. Virgil always seemed to appreciate his stories. Although praise from a kindergartener wasn’t worth much in the literary world.

Through frozen lips, he told a meandering story to his little brother. Sometimes his brother would ask questions or offer suggestions, abruptly changing the direction of the story. Logan himself barely remembered what it was about. It was as if someone else spoke through him as his mind drifted to other ideas.

It’d been dark for a long, long while. Usually his mother would’ve unlocked the door by now. She’d insist he’d make dinner while complaining of a terrible headache.

 It was an unending cycle. His mother would do her best to stay sober and function as an adult for a few weeks. Then her mood would increasingly sour, little things piling up into an avalanche. It was hard to tell at times what would be the trigger. The one thing that made her slam open the alcohol cabinet and drown a whole bottle of vodka. 

She wasn’t a nice person when drunk; hence the whole being-locked-in-the-cellar. Eventually after a few days of heavy drinking, his mother would come to her senses. She’d lock the alcohol cabinet and claim she’d never drink again. A lie nobody believed but herself.

Perhaps the lie was done in good intentions. His mother always insisted she cared for her children, in ways their father never could. 

“He’s a snake, Logan,” She hissed once, banging her beer heavily onto a coaster, “A dirty, no-good deceiving snake.”

Logan said nothing. He had only a few memories of the man. Once, when Logan was nine years old, he showed up on their doorstep. He held a bouquet of roses for Mother and a much belated birthday present for Logan. It’d been one of the happiest he’d seen Mother. He stayed with them for a few days. He listened to Logan, complimenting him on his extensive knowledge about dinosaurs. The three of them went to a carnival together. For a fleeting moment, Logan had what the others kids at his school had; a family. 

Then it ended with tears, arguing, door slams. Mother yanking him by the arm and leaving everything behind. Nine months later, Virgil was born. His father wasn’t there. Nor did he ever show his face again. A bitter, festering part of Logan despised him for that.

Mother acted like she cared at times. She’d purchase Virgil and Logan expensive gifts. Things she couldn’t afford without a credit card. She treated them to ice cream and insisted on giving them hugs. She never understood that Virgil found tactical touch without permission distressing. She’d brush it off, making remarks he simply needed to get used to it. 

At times Logan allowed himself to pretend these niceties would last. He pretended his mother was a flawed human being who mostly did good by her children. He pretended the slapping and hair-pulling didn’t exist, that the cellar was just a cellar and not a place to fear. It was hard to pretend these things were true, when the reality became increasingly harder to ignore.

Virgil fell asleep in the midst of this. Logan hadn’t realized this at first. His tired mind plunged on, continuing the nonsensical story.

“Then Batsy the Bat escaped the Witch’s dungeon. He flew as fast he could, to warn his friends...ah. Virgil what do you think their names should be?” Logan squinted, the dim light making it hard to see if his brother’s eyes were closed or not, “Virgil?”

His brother slumped against him, his breaths long and labored. Logan frowned, shaking his shoulder, “Virgil?!”

Virgil made a grumbling noise, “What?”

“You need to stay awake. You--you can’t fall asleep right now.”

“I’m tireeeed,” Virgil complained.

“I--I know, but please. It--it isn’t good to sleep right now.”

“Why?”

Logan’s throat constricted, “Be--because well. I haven’t finished the story yet.”

It was a lie. The truth was that sleeping could be a dangerous thing for a hypothermia victim. Sleeping could lead to death. He couldn’t tell his brother that. He refused to let Virgil experience more fright than he already had in his short life.

“Okaaay.” Virgil said.

Logan continued with the story, pulling all his concentration into it. Yet it wasn’t enough to keep Virgil awake. He kept drifting off, unable to keep his eyes open. At one point his brother down crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He sobbed, repeating the words over and over.

“It’s alright, you’re okay, everything is gonna be--gonna be,” Logan stammered, struggling to force the word out, “okay.”

It was then that Logan knew they couldn’t remain in the cellar any longer. He’d have to overcome his one true fear for the sake of their safety and survival. What he feared even more than his mother, was losing Virgil. Logan was smart. He knew the odds of a kindergartener and a high school sophomore staying together in the foster system was slim.

He had been selfish to allow his mother to continue tormenting Virgil. It was wrong. Now both him and his brother were paying for it.

Logan could fix this. He just had to pull out his phone and call emergency services. He had to call and resist his foolish fears of his mother and separation from his brother. With one arm still tucked around his brother, he pulled the phone out of his pocket. A battered, beaten thing he’d purchased with his first paycheck. His mother was completely unaware of its existence. 

He pressed the power button on as he gathered up the courage to call. Except the screen remained completely blank. He pressed it again, this time harder, hoping it’d been a fluke. It wasn’t. Again and again, he kept pressing the button, irrationally hoping for a different result. 

“No,” Logan swallowed heavily, “no, no, no this cannot be happening--” “Logey?” Virgil hiccuped, his big glassy eyes staring up as his older brother with concern.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Logan murmured, “It’s okay, It’ll be okay--”

He couldn’t say the words any longer. Not when a sob wracked his throat, his vision turning hazy with tears. He couldn’t be strong any longer. He was weak. His heart beat faster, the chasm in his stomach deepening. His little brother said something, but he couldn’t hear it. All he heard was his mind mocking his failure. Shrill and scorching like his mother.

StUpID DiD yOU ThINK ThAT wAS GOING TO WORK?

You and your little brother are going to die and it’s all yOUR FAuLt

UsEleSS

Not EVEn YoUR OwN FATHER WAntED YOU--

“Hello? Whoever is contacting me at this hour better not have a good reason.”

Logan’s thoughts jolted to a halt. What? He glanced down at his phone, but it was still battered and dead. Virgil looked just as confused and lost as he felt. He hid his face in Logan’s shirt, whimpering softly.

“Who...are you?” Logan croaked, doing a poor disguise of covering up his breakdown moments before.

“I think that is perhaps a question I should be asking you.” The strange voice replied. It was definitely emanating from the phone, but how Logan had no clue. It made no logical sense.

“I--I don’t know.”

“You don’t know your name?”

“No! I mean of course I know my name! I mean, you can’t be real--I must be hallucinating.”

“Oh?” The voice responded with a touch of some unidentifiable emotion, “this must be your first time then.”

“First time what?” Logan snapped, a headache starting to take form. He regretted raising his voice when Virgil let out a cry. He murmured a soft apology to him, attempting to ignore how cold his brother felt.

“Is there someone else with you?” 

“No,” Logan said, before hesitating, “I mean perhaps.”

“Perhaps?”

“You still haven’t responded to my question from before.”

“Let me broker a deal then. I’ll answer your question, if you tell me who you and your companion are.”

“Okay,” Logan shakes his head, wanting to laugh hysterically. What in Newton’s three laws of gravity was going on? Surely, he died. He died and this was some last minutes of brain activity occurring. Scientists after all, know very little what happens in one’s last moments of life. Nothing could quite prepare him for the answer the voice gave him, however.

“Well then, to quote a popular misguided piece of media, ‘you’re a wizard, Harry!’” The voice said, the verbal jazz hands evident in the voice’s dripping, dry wit. Something about it was painfully familiar.

“What.”

“You asked, I answered,” The voice chuckled, “now it’s your turn.”

“My--my name is Logan,” He said, blinking rapidly, “and my little brother..ahhh...oh! Vi-Virgil is here with me.”

“Logan, that’s your name? You’re sure?”

Logan frowned at that. Of course he was sure. Or was he? It was getting rather harder to focus. Or to breathe even. The crisp cold air hurt his lungs. Virgil slumped heavily against him, complete dead weight in his unconsciousness. Oh. That was bad. He knew that was bad. 

“Logan?!” The voice yelled. Hmm, it sounded like they’ve been yelling at him for awhile now. He should acknowledge them. He nodded before pausing. Wait. He needed to respond verbally.

“Y-yes?” 

“Finally. You seem like you’re doing absolutely fantastic,” The voice told him. 

“Do I?” Logan asked, “I do not think I’m doing ‘fantastic’.”

“Where are you?”

Logan rattled off the address. Then he very casually added, “We’re locked in the cellar.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s-s-s-s a punishment,” Logan shivered, his eyelids drooping against his will, “it’sssokay.”

“Yes, because all parenting books recommend disciplining your children by locking them in a cellar.” Maybe it was just Logan, but he got the impression the voice was being sarcastic. 

“I need to cut the invocation call. I’ll be there soon.”

“Wh--how-hy?” Logan said, trying to speak three words at once. The voice didn’t respond. He tried shaking his battered phone as if that would do anything. It did not do anything.

The air frizzled in front of Logan. A golden spark appeared, expanding until it was one big golden shimmery oval. Logan stared at it, blinking rapidly. This was absurd. He most definitely had to be hallucinating. The golden oval ripples as a black fedora emerged from it, followed by a face and then a whole body.

“F--father?” Logan managed.

The man before him was older and dressed in strange clothing. Slivers of silver hair poked out from his hat, nestled among the chestnut hair. An unfamiliar gruesome scar ran alongside the left side of his face. But he recognized those hazel eyes anywhere. He stared at them at the mirror every morning.

He didn’t respond to Logan. He took a few steps before collapsing beside the huddled forms of Logan and Virgil. His gloved hands reached out, but he did not touch them. His mouth opened, but no sound came out of him. Then his gloves covered his face as he inhaled deeply. He removed them from his face, his expression carefully blank.

“I’m here.” He told Logan, extending a hand towards him, “and I won’t leave you or your brother this time.”

Logan stared at the yellow gloved hand before sluggishly panning his gaze up at his father. He didn’t know if he could trust him, let alone if he could trust that this was reality. But god, he wanted it to be real. 

So cradling Virgil close to his chest with one arm, he took hold of his father’s hand. And then, with a bright flash of light, the cellar was empty.

-

Logan felt warm. A drizzling, dribbling, dripping like maple syrup down a fresh stack of buttermilk pancakes type of warmth. He should be alarmed by this for some reason, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be. Instead he made a contented noise, shifting closer to it. Someone chuckled, running a calloused hand through his hair. Logan stilled at the touch, the warmth evaporating from his veins. He waited for the fingers to grow taunt around a tuft of hair. For the harsh cacophony of his mother’s voice to rain down on him like hail. Nothing.

“Are you asleep, Little Tesla?” 

The air in his lungs evaporated. Only one person had called him that and it certainly wasn’t his mother. As much as she expected him to receive good grades, she hadn’t been one to nurture his interests in 20th century scientists.

“Father?” Logan whispered.

“I’m here, I didn’t leave, just like I said I would.”

He opened his eyes to find his father was indeed there. Sitting on a wooden chair with sunken eyes as if he’d been awake for hours. Logan laid on a bed with silky sheets and an impossibly warm comforter. He had just barely enough to cover him--most of the blankets had been stolen by another small figure. Virgil. His little baby brother was with him, asleep and curled up in a small ball.

“Wha--” Logan started to say, until everything hit him. The cellar. The strange bodiless voice. The gleaming gold portal. Father. Darkness.

“Yes, yes, I know it’s not at all a lot to take in, but you have magic. And you found me again, just like I’d hope you would.”

“Found you?” Logan asked, a hardness to his tone, “Assuming this isn’t a hallucination, you left me with h-her, you never came back and suddenly because I possess magic, I’m what? Worth something?”

“Yes, no!” His father cried out with a frustrated growl, “Listen, Logan. My relationship with your mother was extremely healthy, as I’m sure you can agree. Not unhealthy in the slightest. When it ended, your mother left a lovely parting gift.”

Here, he rubs a hand against the facial scar almost absent-mindedly, “I wanted to find you, I searched everywhere, but your mother is smart and covers her tracks well. I’m...sorry I couldn’t find you or your brother sooner. You’re important to me, magic or no magic.”

“How can I trust you?” Logan asked, “How can I trust that you’re not anything like her?”

He expected his father to be upset by the accusation, but instead he just smirked.

“You’re good to be suspicious. It’s a good trait, don’t ever lose it,” He said, adjusting his gloves, “I can tell you, that I will not harm you or your brother. I can say I will teach you magic, if you desire. I can let you know that I will let you walk out the door with your brother, and you won’t ever have to see me or your mother again. But you have no true way of trusting a man that has, from what you know, abandoned you completely until just now. 

“You have two options. Either accept you cannot completely trust what I say is true and proceed with caution, or you can leave with your brother, find a way to support the two of you. You’re smart, Logan. I trust you could figure it out.”

Logan swallowed. He was indeed smart--or knowledgeable enough to know there was little choice in the matter. He was just fifteen. He can’t support Virgil and him--not legally anyway. It’d be difficult to cover it up. Child Protection Services would be on them in a matter of weeks, if not days. 

Good case scenario, they stayed together in the foster system. Bad case scenario, they ended up separated. Worst case scenario? They ended up back at their mother’s, because they don’t believe either of Logan’s or Virgil’s claims and the cycle continues without end.

So, his father. He was the only option, and he knew it. As much bitterness as Logan held for the man, there’s also yearning in equal spades. He used to spend nights crying for him with his mother yelling at him to shut up. Sometimes she’d beat him for it, telling him his father was never coming back. Then he’d snap back that she was wrong and he’d prove Logan right by coming back. Until little by little, he stopped. 

He couldn’t trust his father, the man even admitted it. He just had to hope it’d be better, even though apparently the man believed in magic. Logan was doing his best at the moment to deny it existed. It couldn’t exist, last night had to be a fluke of some sort and even if it wasn’t, it was too much for him to focus on at the moment. 

“As long as I have your word that you won’t intentionally hurt Virgil and I, we will stay with you.” Logan says, before offering his hand towards his father.

Father took a look at the extended hand, eyes softening, before clasping it, “You have my word, Logan, that I will not harm you or Virgil as long as you remain in my care.”

They shook on it. Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in and then--and then, his vision blurred. A sob and then another erupted until he clenched his teeth, holding the rest back. For the second time within twenty-four hours he had shown weakness. First to his brother and now, now to his father who above all he should show no signs to. But like that creative writing assignment in the 8th grade, he completely failed.

Somehow halfway the handshake got turned into an embrace. His father hugged him, a calloused hand softly carding through his hair once more. 

“Shh, Logan, you’ve been so strong, stronger than most. You won’t have to be strong alone any longer. Let it all out.”

Logan didn’t know what to think of his father’s words. It wasn’t like a set of logical propositions or a step-by-step formula for science. He couldn’t know for certain if they were genuine. But in this moment, he was but a little boy with his father back. So he dug his head into his father’s chest and finally cried. His father, in turn, did not berate or beat him for it. Instead, he held onto his son as he whispered reassurances all the while.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #kat writes

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - part 6 - Makeovers and little sisters

guess who wrote this part last night and forgot about it the entire day~ me

 your outfit:

=

Mal stepped over a pile of green sludge as she carefully dodged a passing isle resident, they turned to snarl at her but gasped as she turned back and bared her teeth, forcing her bit of magic left in her to let her eyes glow.

The resident bolted off, not wanting to stay around the daughter of Maleficent any longer. Mal sighed, shaking her head slightly to rid of the small headache that had suddenly appeared.

“note to self, glowy eyes hurt here” she muttered to herself, she had forgotten that pushing that bit of magic up into her head had caused her headaches on the isle.

She stopped in front of Curl up and Dye, brow-raising at the sign on the door.

‘closed until midnight’

She huffed, glancing behind her to see if anyone was watching before pushing open the door and stepping inside. Immediately the low sound of music bombarded her senses, the smell of chemicals swirling around her, and the vision of paint splatters all over the walls and floors making Mal laugh.

Dizzy had been busy while she had been gone. She drew back the plastic curtains used to keep cold in those big ass refrigerators at grocery stores and peered into the hair salon, smiling as she watched dizzy spin around with her broom and dance while she swept up hair from the night before.

Mal got a good look at Dizzy’s attire as she moved about the room, dark forest green overall shorts splattered with dye and paint with multicolored pins decorating the torso, faint purple ripped leggings, a dull faded pink t-shirt underneath, bright yellowish gold-painted gloves with metalwork bits and bobs glued on, dark green sneakers with painted gold fabric laces, her family crest ring on her left pointer finger, and her usual glasses and headphones on her head. Mal smiled again, remembering Evie always trying to encourage Dizzy to create her own style than to always wear that sickly green and yellowish colored dresses her mother always made her wear.

It had looked like she had followed Evie's word. Dizzy did one last spin, her eyes going wide as she finally spotted Mal. “MAL!” she squealed, making the older teen wince a bit from the high pitch. Dizzy ripped off her headphones from her ears and tossed them around her neck, giving a wide grin at the blonde-haired Mal. “is Evie back too?!

Mal gave the young teen a shrug and shook her head “no, just me” she hummed, suppressing the smile she wanted to give to dizzy as the girl's shoulders dropped in disappointment. She took another look around the salon, letting one of her old smirks grow on her face “you’ve really gone all out here….looks good” Dizzy’s downturned eyes turned to a bright grin as she looked around at her work.

“forgot you guys don’t open till midnight….think you can break a few rules?” Dizzy pursed her lips and set the broom on an empty chair, walking over to Mal and grabbing onto her long-curled hair.

“the blonde with purple tips?” Dizzy sighed, giving Mal a bored look “completely washes out your face and I can't even tell your skin and hair apart” Mal let out a little snort and shook her head. Dizzy grabbed her arm and lead her to one of the empty salon chairs and spun her around. “how far can I go?” she hummed, leaning on her palm and smirking down at Mal.

Mal shrugged “honestly, do whatever, just make it….me” she hummed, smiling as Dizzy squealed in excitement and walked over to her huge bottles of chemicals and picked up the dark bubbling purple one. She spun around, grinning as Mal gave her a slightly nervous look.

“let's do this” Dizzy giggled, skipping over to Mal and setting the dye onto the table next to the chair and grinning down at her. Mal pressed her lips together tightly as she looked up at the scheming young teen.

“don’t burn me” she muttered, closing her eyes and slumping in the chair, preparing to let Dizzy do whatever she wanted.

“I won't ~”

=

You grunted as you struggled to put on the black ripped up skinny jeans you had bought two months ago, while they fit perfectly it was always a hassle to get them past your hips.

“come on you stupid- AH!” you tumbled over and hit the carpet with a loud thump, leaving you on the floor groaning in pain.

You shook your head and pulled at the hem of your jeans, laughing in victory as they finally slid over your hips and were buttoned over your stomach.

You stood from the floor and grabbed your black combat boots, quickly shoving them on and tying them. You paused, looking down and cursing, the entire time you had somehow forgotten your shirt.

You zipped up the boots and rushed over to your dresser, pausing as you saw one of Harry's rare-non ripped tank top hoodies sitting folded in your dresser. You snorted as a dumb thought came to mind, but decided to go through with it.

“time to cosplay Harry” you laughed to yourself, sliding on the large tank top and flipping the hood down. You grabbed your skull belt and slid it into the pants loops and buckled it. You stopped for a moment, looking at yourself in the standing mirror sitting next to your dresser, and crossed your arms. “It's missing something” you hummed, tilting your head.

It hit you a moment later and you grabbed your copy of Harry and Gil's dorm room key and bolted across the hallway, unlocking their door and running over to Harry's closet, grabbing one of his old black and red leather isle jackets. You smiled at the spray panted Hook symbol on the back and slid the slightly heavy jacket on, it somehow fit you perfectly, but you guessed it was because it was one of his jackets from when he was younger, and more around your size.

You grabbed one of his sets of leather gloves and slid them on, taking it upon yourself to also raid his ring stash. You smirked at the tentacle ring, and slid it onto your pinkie, it was probably your favorite one besides his ruby ring with the black band.

You looked into Harry's mirror and smirked, now you were ready. Your shoulders dropped as something silver and metal caught your eye in the mirror, you spun around, gasping as you saw Harrys hook sitting on his bed, next to his sword. “that idiot” you groaned, smacking your forehead with your palm and walking over to his bed and grabbing the precious hook and his sword. You slid the hook through your belt loop and looked around for his sword's sheath.

You found it resting against his dresser, you grabbed it and slid the sword into it, before taking off your jacket and slipping the sheath around your shoulders and letting it rest on your hip. You slid the jacket back on and bolted out of his dorm, running to Evie and Mals where the blue-haired teen was making Bens isle gear.

“Guess what the fucking idiot left!” you yelled, taking the hook from your belt and waving it in the hair. Gil and Jay face palmed as they locked their eyes onto the weapon.

Evie took one look and groaned, holding her face in her hands and shaking her head “and from the looks of it he left his sword too” she sighed, pointing at the cutlass that rested on your hip.

“fucking yep!” you yelled, waving your hands in the air and beginning to pace the room “so now he has no fucking weapons with him and I have no fucking clue what's going to happen to him! What happens if someone finds him and he can’t-“

“(y/n)!” Gil yelled, stopping you in your tracks by stepping in front of you and grabbing your shoulders “Harry knows how to take care of himself, he'll be just fine, he also knows how to stay out of trouble…he never does it but he knows how.” He patted your arm and released you, turning to Evie as she asked him to grab some extra gold fabric.

You let out a raspberry and flopped on Mal's bed, staring up at the ceiling as anxiety started to burrow into your mind. You did your best to ignore it since Harry was very much capable of taking care of himself.

He would be just fine.

Just fine.

=

Dizzy swung the chair back around, facing the once again purple-haired Mal towards the shattered mirrors. Mal stood, leaning down to look into one of the cracked shards and squinted at herself.

Her once mid-back length blonde purple-tipped hair had been dyed a lighter-toned purple than her natural color, now just at her collar bones in a blunt cut with her bangs in a side part and the right-side cascading down her face and brushing against her lashes.

ref:

She looked like her but….there was something missing. She took a deep breath and hardened her features, her eyes sharpening and her jaw locking into a grimace “there I am” she hummed, standing up tall and spinning around to look at Dizzy, who grinned and threw her arms open in celebration.

“Voila!”

“Voila” Mal hummed in a dry tone, pulling out a stash of cash she had taken before she left Auradon and handed a $50 to Dizzy, who stared wide-eyed at Mal. “for me?” she gasped, gently taking the cash and holding it close to her chest.

“yeah,” Mal smirked, cocking her hip and crossing her arms “you earned it” Mal watched the younger teen as she skipped over to the register, only to be stopped by a black leather-gloved hand.

“hand it over you runt” Davy growled, his dark blue eyes staring threateningly into Dizzy’s. Jack the monkey giving the young vk a sharp grin. Dizzy’s shoulders dropped as she handed over the once new $50 and pouted as Davy turned to the register counter and tapped it with his knuckle. “the rest of it too, don’t want the crew trashin’ the place eh?”

Dizzy kept her eye on Jack as she walked around the counter and opened the register, taking what little money was left inside and placing it into Davys open palm. He hummed, giving a taunting bow to Dizzy and turning to leave.

“Considering you don’t got a crew I assume that your running errands for some dolt captain?” Mal taunted, smirking as Davy slowly turned to glare at her.

“well well, look whose back” he purred, walking closer to her and lifting Jack to sit on one of the empty chairs “how exciting!”

“…” Mal just rose her brow, moving her wrist slightly to unlodge her switchblade from her sleeve.

“and for your information, I run under the orders of Uma now~” he chuckled, reaching forward and brushing his fingers against Mal's hair “and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I rough up her little enemy huh Jack?” Jack bounced excitedly and screeched, Davy yelped loudly as Mal suddenly grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his torso, pulled him up against her chest, and shoved her knife very close to the artery in his throat.

“touch me again and Uma will be down a man” she growled, feeling the headache return as her eyes glowed. Davy kept his eyes locked on hers, a drop of sweat trailing from his brow.

She slowly released Davy's arm and pushed him away from her, letting out a cold cackle as he stumbled over a chair and some of Dizzy’s products spilled over him. He sat up, his hair covered in pink and green shampoo as he glared at her. “this ain't over yet you imp” he snarled, holding out his hand for Jack.

The monkey leaped onto his arm and scuttled up to his shoulder, curling his tail around the pirate teen's neck. “you'll be sorry” he huffed, stomping out of the salon with a screeching monkey in his ear.

Mal rolled her eyes, walking over to Dizzy and tossing the cash she had pickpocketed back from Davy to the younger teen. “oh!” Dizzy gasped, the bright grin that had disappeared with Davy’s appearance coming back to light “thank you!”

“don’t mention it” Mal hummed looking in the mirror shards again and fluffing up her hair “oh and by the way” she walked close to Dizzy, leaning down to whisper in the girl's ear “Harrys here too, but don’t worry if you see him, he won't steal from you” Dizzy gave her an odd look “just wanted to let you know so you don’t freak out?” the younger teen slowly nodded and placed the cash into the register.

“Alright then, I’ll-where are you going?” Dizzy asked, watching ask Mal grabbed her backpack and made her way to the main door.

“back to my apartment, got nothing to do other to be there” Mal sighed, waving Dizzy goodbye and walking out of the salon, smirking as the residents that were walking around realized who she was, and scrambled to get out of her way.

She held her head high as she walked back to the hideout, yes, she might have been on the hell-like prison isle again, but she felt freer here than she had been in the past 4 months in Auradon.

=

Harry carefully looked around his empty dark apartment, not knowing if someone had claimed it after he left. He looked to his right, seeing one of his extra swords sitting by the door. He picked it up and flipped it in his hands, continuing to walk the large two-room apartment and keeping quiet to hear for any intruders.

“YOU’RE BACK!” Harry let out a yelp as someone slammed into his back and tackled him to the floor. He let out a low groan as the person who had tackled him giggled as she sat on his back.

“Hey CJ” he muttered, lifting his head and looking over his shoulder to see his little sister grinning down at him, her brown eyes alight with mischief. “aye, I’m back”

“haha! I told Harriet you were waiting for the right moment to strike! So where is it?! Where’s the wand” she started to palm around his jacket, searching for one of the only things that could break the barrier surrounding the isle.

Harry sat up, knocking CJ off his back and moving into his butt, crossing his legs and leaning against his knees “I’m not here fer tha’ CJ, in fact, tha’s not the plan anymore” CJ stopped in her attempt to continue searching his person, sitting back on her heels and staring at him with wide eyes.

Harry waited for CJ to yell at him for betraying her, but when she only stared at him in shock, he took his chance to explain everything. “look, CJ, I don’t have a way ta explain why I decided to turn meh back on evil, but I did, and I don’t regret it” he sighed, reaching out and holding onto CJs shoulders, watching as she slowly started to shake 

“but I promised five months ago I would get more kids off and that’s been unfortunately ignored by the council and beasty boy. I came here ta tell yeh I haven’t forgotten about yeh or Harriet, that I’m still going ta get yeh off the isle and away from da, I won't break meh promise to either of yeh.” CJ grabbed his arms and slowly took his hands off her shoulders, her eyes drifting to the floor.

“…it was that prissy Auradon girl wasn’t it” CJ snapped, her eyes snapping back up to glare into his “she turned you, made you go all goody two shoes” she snarled, yelling as she tried to stand but Harry wrapped his arms around her, easily pulling her back to the ground and into his lap “Lemme go you traitor!!! I trusted you! You were supposed to free us al-mmf!” Harry covered her mouth, shushing her.

“shut up! Let me explain what I can CJ, yes, (y/n) is one of the reasons I turned my back on evil, but she is NOT a prissy Auradon girl, she's one of the most badass lassies I've ever known, and I love her!” CJ stopped, slowly turning her head to look at him with wide eyes “I know yeh think I've betrayed yeh, but I didn’t, I betrayed da, that was it.” He stressed, shaking CJ lightly to get the point across “I realized I didn’t want da to be free, he’s a horrible person CJ, he deserves ta be here, but yeh don’t, Harriet doesn’t either, we”

 he pointed between the two of them “are not responsible for da’s actions and don’t deserve ta be punished fer what he’s done. Beasty boy agrees, and I've been trying for the last five months to get yeh and Harriet off the isle. I promise” he pulled CJ into a tight hug, hoping to convince her that he hadn’t betrayed her, or abandoned her. “I never meant ta leave you here”

It was a few moments of tense silence before CJs smaller arms wrapped around Harry's neck, her head coming to rest in the spot between his shoulder and neck “I believe you” she muttered, sniffing lightly. She and Harry sat in silence for a few moments, before CJ spoke again “you’ve changed.”

“fer the better” Harry muttered back “I’m still yer brother, and I haven’t changed in the ways yeh truly knew me, but I’m not the same as I was 6 months ago” he pulled back, giving his baby sister a soft smile, one she had only seen a few times in her life. She continued to stare at him for another moment before one of her usual shit-eating grins spread across her face. Harry mentally groaned as CJ tipped forward and shoved him to the ground

“Just because you changed big bwudda~” she teased, saying his title in a baby voice “Don’t mean the way I mess with you will….please tell me you still steal stuff? Like-you didn’t go full goody two shoes?” CJ pleaded, crossing her arms on his chest and pouting at him.

Harry snorted and  pushed her off of him, sitting up and smirking at her “you do!” CJ cheered, throwing her hands up in the air and throwing them around his torso “what's your biggest score?!”

“uhhhh, beasty boys crown” Harry smiled, remembering when he and (y/n) had decided that Ben's crown was a good thing to steal at 1 am when they were delirious from not sleeping. “no.way” CJ laughed, slapping him on the arm to encourage him to tell the story “what made you-?”

“(y/n) ‘n I were really tired from our history report at 1 am so she just suggested we take his crown and I agreed” Harry shrugged, snickering as CJ started to giggle so hard, she clutched her sides.

“ooooh my hades! That’s amazing” she snorted, letting herself fall on her side and grin up at Harry through teary eyes “…anything else?”

“(y/n) stole FGs wand a couple times?” Harry offered, falling back slightly as CJ sat up suddenly and grabbed his shoulders.

“SHE WHAT? WHY DID YOU KEEP THIS AMAZING INFORMATION FROM ME?! You want me to like her dont ya?! that’s all you had to say! I love her already when are you marrying her?” Harry felt his face flush and he slapped off CJs hands.

“I-CJ! We’ve-it’s only been six months since we started dating?! I only just admitted to myself that I love ‘er” CJ rolled her eyes.

“blah blah blah, those boradon heroes marry each other after knowing each other for five minutes, you’ve got six months, just use moms ring for her or something” Harry facepalmed and shook his head.

“CJ, I haven’t even told (y/n) tha’ I love ‘er yet, chill” CJ pouted and shoved at his shoulder.

“coward, she sounds awesome, and yet you wait to snatch her up, wait too long and I’ll lose a dope ass sister-in-law” Harry just stared at her blankly and pushed her face away from him.

“Alright, I’m done talking about tha’ ta yeh, where’s Harriet? I need ta talk ta ‘er too” CJ shrugged and stood from the floor, dusting her long scarlet jacket off.

“dunno, last I saw her was at school” Harry crossed his arms and rose his brow. “okay okay, she's hanging around her ship, the other side of Uma’s side of the Warf, the two had a truce for a couple months before well…” she gestured to him “you didn’t come back” Harry’s shoulders dropped and he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean ta leave fer so long, but beasty boy was distracted and the council was being assholes, I couldn’t do much about it” CJ rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder.

“and you’ve already apologized about it….which is weird and never ever do it again, or I will stab you” she snarked, giving him a sharp grin and spinning around towards his front door. “Harriet’s busy right now so you’ll have to wait until she's done with it”

“wha’ is she doin’?” Harry sighed, following after CJ and leaning against the doorway.

“uhhhh captain crew stuff, dunno, she didn’t let me hang around and stuck the twins on me” she pouted, glaring off at the building in front of his.

“Sterling n’ Skipper? How are they?” he asked, smiling as CJ gave him a simple thumbs up.

“They good….as good as a Smee kid can be, Harriet’s taken to make sure everyone knows they are under the Hook family’s protection, not even Davy messes with them.” Harry uncrossed his arms and his jaw clicked.

“Davy?” he muttered; he had been wondering about what the son of Barbossa was doing “what about Davy?” CJ sighed and gave him a look.

“He’s Uma’s first mate….” she waited for his reaction, winching as Harry's icy blue eyes turned dark and he clicked his jaw again.

“….Uma thinks I left ‘er don’t she?” he muttered, looking down at his shoes and gritting his teeth.

“yeah….” CJ hummed, sticking her hands in her jacket pockets as she rocked on her heels, watching as Harry clenched his fists so hard they shook “I’m guessing you’re gonna go talk to Uma now?”

“aye” he muttered, turning and grabbing his extra sword again, looking for its sheath “I’ll see yeh later”

CJ nodded and turned, quickly going down the stairs of the building and heading back to Facilier’s arcade to hang with Freddie. “don’t let dad see you!” she yelled behind her shoulder, nodding to herself in satisfaction as Harry yelled back.

“don’t plan on letting ‘im even know I’m ‘ere!”

CJ disappeared into the alleys, leaving Harry to finish gearing up and get ready to head to the chip shop.

He needed to explain something to his oldest friend.

-end of part 6-

Here it is~ part 6, imma keep this little explanation note thing short and just say, I know CJ turned her opinion around on (y/n) and Harry being “better” pretty quickly, but really, (or at least hopeful I've made it come across clearly) Harry hasn’t changed much, the only thing about him that’s different is that he has better coping mechanisms, mentally healthier, and doesn’t steal as much as he used to. And CJ would love anyone who steals from Ben and FG, no doubt.

Yes, I changed Mal's hairstyle for D2 cuz I hate that damn pink wig and it's cut so much, so I made my own hairstyle. Also, I hope I made Mal actually intimidating in the little Mal vs Davy thing because in the OG version with Mal vs Harry she's JUST kitten pouting at him as if it’s doing anything. So, I hope I did her justice while also showing that she's still softer due to being in Auradon. (but only for Dizzy)

Also, Davy and Harry will officially meet (or reunite) next chapter, hold on to your butts! It's gonna be a rocky ride! (don’t worry bout Harry against Davy tho, Harry’s been eating actual food so he’s physically much stronger now and could easily kick Davy’s ass even without his extra sword)

also first fic/chapter of the year~

permtaglist

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​

@lunanight2012​ @daughter-of-the-stars11​

@musicarose​ @random-thoughts-003​ @remembered-license​

@verboetoperee​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @imtryingthisout​ 

@rintheemolion​

taglist

@thesailbells​ @beccad10x​

#Descendents #descendants #disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook descendants #harry hook x reader #harry hook imagine #we dont like canon mal in this house #so we replace her with her cooler twin sister malory #anti mal #anti mal hair #yall be prepared for the next chapter #some shit bout to go down #yall gon HATE davy lololol #and probably low key hate uma #but pls dont #she has limited info #uma wants her boys back #reprise #rewrite #shuffle playlist #part of your world #encore

[dakotasgreenkitchen]

Take A Chance On Me- Part 2.

“Okay. Here we are. The room upstairs and to the right is yours. Bathroom built in and everything.” Amelia smiled as Florence walked in with her trunk. Florence’s hazel eyes moved around as she took in the house.

God she was going to go color blind with all the white and beige. The house was a nice one story, with 4 bedrooms and a good sized living room and kitchen.

The washing room and area with dryer and washing machines were towards the back of the house. Florence set her trunks of items down as she walked through the house.

White and beige were clearly the color scheme with some grey. Florence picked her trunks back up and walked down to the room that was now hers.

The white bed-frame, desk, and bed side table sat as she began to take her various clothes and shoes out and place them in the closet.

“We can go shopping for whatever you like now that you’re here. We weren’t sure what you would want to do with it.” Amelia’s voice came from the doorframe as Florence shot around to look at her.

“Okay. Thanks.” Florence answered quickly, taking her pairs of boots out and placing them in the rack.

“You have really cool style.” Amelia smiled, clearly trying to make a connection with Florence.

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me. We can just talk or whatever.” Florence chuckled hanging her jacket.

“I’ve never really done this before. Sorry.” Amelia cringed as she walked more into Florence’s room.

“No big deal. I haven’t talked to an adult who didn’t have their head in their ass since I was 6.” Florence said walking back to her trunk, taking her various books out.

“Well if you have patience with me, I will have patience with you and we can figure this out.” Amelia presented, her hands resting on her knees.

“Ditto. Now what’s the rule for painting everything in this room?” Florence asked with wide eyes, her mind going 1094 miles a minute imagining it.

October is a weird time to start school. Mostly everyone is already there and aquatinted with each other. So Florence going to real school would be odd for her.

“Hey, your breakfast is ready. Link made pancakes.” Amelia knocked on Florence’s door.

Florence had only been there a week and still didn’t get their whole family morning breakfast thing. Like why would you do that, just eat and move on.

“Okay. Thanks.” Florence smiled, placing her favorite glass rings onto her fingers.

For her first day of real, aka normal school she had chosen yellow pants that had a pattern of rust, bright orange and pink flowers with hints of white. She paired it with an orange shirt tucked in the front and white Doc Martens.

Her natural beach waves falling down her back and her eyelashes extended with a little mascara.

Florence walked into the kitchen and sat at the counter as Amelia fed Scout and Link prepared more food. Florence got up and walked to the fridge, preparing herself an iced matcha latte.

“So are you excited for school?” Link asked, sliding Florence another pancake which she rejected.

“Sure. But it’s just school.” Florence shrugged as she put the dish into the sink before walking back into her room. So much for family breakfast.

—

Florence sat in chemistry. The words not even sticking in her head. A boy with black messy hair and green eyes sat next to her.

“Hey. You must be new. I’m Benny.” The boy her age held out his hand.

“Florence. And yeah I got adopted by some random people and here I am.” Florence chuckled, shaking his hand.

“Okay dark humor. I like you Florence.” Benny smiled, pulling out his notebook.

“A lot of people like me, I like myself. But you’re cool too Benny.” Florence bit her lip to contain her laugh.

“Oh my god.” Benny rolled his eyes, slightly shoving Florence.

“Eat lunch with me so I’m not alone?” Florence proposed, smirking at Benny and his rosy cheeks.

“Sure.” Benny took Florence on her offer. The rest of class was Florence dying of absolute boredom and Benny stealing glances at her.

“Was it just me or did you take in absolutely none of that?” Florence giggled as her and Benny walked out into the hallway.

God Benny couldn’t take his eyes off her. She didn’t wear the frills or skinny jeans that every other girl wore or the hot pink.

This whole 70’s vibe he saw on her made her more appealing. Florence flashed him a bright smile that Benny was convinced would make his eyes pop out his head right there.

“Hey brother.” A girl with dark black hair and bangs said as she whacked Benny’s arm walking beside him.

She wore straight leg, distressed jeans and a Queen T shirt with high top black converse. Her matching green eyes stared at Florence as they stopped.

“Florence this is my stupid little sister Dakota.” Benny rolled his eyes gesturing his hand between the two girls.

“Little your ass, by 2 minutes.” Dakota spat back, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you twins?” Florence asked raising one of her eyebrows at the siblings.

“Sadly. But I’m better than Benny so. Dakota March. Benny is my dumbass brother.” Dakota smiled, holding her hand out for Florence.

“March, like Little Women?” Florence asked s as she took Dakota’s hand.

“I wish. But I’m not that cool. Benny surely isnt.” Dakota rolled her eyes.

“I’m leaving. See ya Florence. Dakota ugh.” Benny groaned as he walked to another class leaving his sister and Florence to talk.

—

“Hey how was school?” Amelia smiled up from feeding Scout on the couch as Florence dropped her bag on the bench.

“It was actually really good.” Florence grinned as she walked into her bedroom closing the door softly behind her.

#amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelink #amelink fanfic #amelink fics #grey’s anatomy fics #grey’s anatomy fan fic #take a chance on me #abba #queen #scoutderekshepherdlincoln #meredith grey #maggie pierce #grey sloan

[cr0wprince]

Semishira headcanons because I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately

Part two

Shirabu doesn’t really wear hoodies of his own, but he will steal Semi’s when he’s lounging around his dorm, or their apartment after they’re graduated, and he needs something comfy to study in.

Shirabu also steals Semi’s skinny jeans just to fuck with him. Semi loves how he looks in them.

Semi will show the lyrics to a new song he’s written to Shirabu and Shirabu will ask, “Do you take criticism?” “I guess.” “It fucking sucks.” But he’ll still listen to it on repeat when Semi actually records it.

Speaking of songs, Semi writes a ton of them about Shirabu. Some are more discreet, but the message is still there. Tendou teases him about it.

Shirabu thinks love songs are stupid until he has them written for him.

Shirabu gifts Semi a nice leather notebook to write songs and any other notes for them down. He fills it with songs that makes him think of Shirabu.

Shirabu went with Semi when he got his first tattoo and teased him the whole time, but the banter also distracted Semi from the pain.

They don’t really bother with getting each other chocolates for Valentine’s Day/White Day, but they pick some up the following day when it’s on sale.

Semi loves to pull Shirabu into his lap. At home, away from everyone, Shirabu doesn’t put up too much of a fight, but Semi loves to do it when they’re out and with their friends. He loves to show off that Shirabu’s his boyfriend. Shirabu huffs and pulls away a little, but Semi laughs and pulls him back down. Shirabu puts on a show that he hates it, but he actually loves being close. Semi wouldn’t keep at it if Shirabu was actually uncomfortable, though.

Semi loves to show Shirabu off in general. When his music career takes off and he gets media attention, he always makes sure to grab Shirabu’s hand or give him kisses on the cheek or temple.

Semi takes extra care making dinner when he’s stuck at home all day during quarantine and Shirabu’s at the hospital all day. They normally share the cooking responsibilities, or order out, but Semi makes it extra special when Shirabu’s working overtime.

Not so much a headcanon, but imagine them doing that thing where Shirabu would sit in Semi’s lap, Semi has one of his guitars placed in front of them, and he’s guiding Shirabu’s fingers along the fretboard and his hand over Shirabu’s as he helps him strum.

More quarantine. Semi’s not going to go get his hair done professionally during the pandemic. He’s doing music streams for his fans and he wants to still keep his hair looking good, so he does the tips at home. Tendou used to dye it for him in high school. How hard can it be? It’s awful. There’s dye all over the bathroom, his hands, his neck. It’s a mess. Shirabu does not let him live it down. There’s some snark passed back and forth (these two are filled with that after all), there’s a quip about Shirabu’s bangs, but ultimately Shirabu, with steadier hands, ends up doing it next time once the dye washes out.

After Shirabu’s done with his residency and is an established doctor, he surprises Semi with a high end guitar on their anniversary or Semi’s birthday.

Shirabu has a demanding job so he can’t go on tour with Semi every time. They still video call every night, though. Shirabu will be exhausted after a long shift, but he’ll call before Semi goes on stage. Someone always streams the shows for him. They’ll stay up talking a little bit afterwards, too.

#rachel’s rambling #long post #haikyuu!! headcanons #headcanons #semishira #I’m gonna go ahead and tag it this time