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frostieso · 4 months

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A Not-So-Normal Saturday Evening

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Paring: Bakugou K. X Reader (reader's gender is never specified)

Type: Fluff

Summary: You and Bakugou barely talk. One day, while the rest of your classmates are out at the mall, you get into a small and pointless argument with your classmate, Bakugou, who turns out to not be as angry or bad as you think.

Warnings(?): Bakugou being himself, bit of bullying, swearing/foul language bc they're teenagers, Kats eventually getting comfortable with you, ngl a slow burn except y'all just become friends (if you squint hard enough you can see that this was intended to be romantic even tho it turned out more on the platonic side)

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It was a pretty calm and average day for a Saturday in the U.A. dormitory. Most of the class had gone out to the mall for the day. You, however, had remained at the dorm.

You honestly just didn't feel like going out anywhere today. You had promised the girls, specifically Mina since she had practically begged you to go, that you would promise to go out next weekend. But for today you would much rather be comfortable in your dorm room away from all the people and noise.

And apparently so did someone else.

Around 20 minutes after everyone who was going had left you made your way downstairs and into the kitchen to grab a little snack. You opened the cabinet below where the toaster was and kneeled down to looked through the contents. You must have been so caught up on reading the words on the side of the boxes of food because you didn't even notice that someone else had entered the kitchen area.

"What're you doing here?" An unfortunately familiar voice questioned with an annoyed tone.

You went to look up and over towards the voice but you had bumped your head on the roof of the cabinet.

"Ow.." You groaned and cursed quietly at yourself under your breath.

You stand up awkwardly and turn your head to face the spikey-haired blonde. His arms were crossed as if he was disappointed to see you here.

"Are you asking why I'm in the kitchen or why I'm here and not at the mall with the rest of our classmates?" You tilt your head slightly.

He grunts slightly. "Don't be smart with me, extra. It's not like you to stay back while the rest of the extras are out."

You shrug. You didn't really know why you stayed. A part of you had wanted to go but something deep down had held you back. You closed the cabinet and then walked over to the refrigerator and opened it.

Bakugou watched as you moved about the kitchen. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of you. You two haven't really talked since joining U.A., only when you both really had to like when training or with the whole class.

But no one-on-one time.

You groan and roll your eyes as you look in the fridge. You felt that if you stared hard enough that maybe something else would magically appear but unfortunately for you, that wasn't happening. You shut the fridge door and glance over to Bakugou.

"You wanted to grab something..?" You questioned as you had realized that he had been standing in the same spot in the kitchen for a little too long.

He must have also since his expression changed slightly which caused him to turn around.

"Forget it." He mumbled and started to walk away.

You watch as he walks away and eventually out of sight as he turns the corner. You immediately let go of a breath that you didn't know you were holding. I shake your head in an attempt to shake your thoughts. Usually whenever Bakugou talked he was loud, assertive, and just, well, Bakugou. But this interaction was different.

He wasn't loud, he didn't stomp, he was just...calm.

It was as if you simply just being in his presence, and only his, brought him to be sort of relaxed in a way.

It was odd seeing the normally angry blonde acting so calm that for a second it worried you. It took you a few seconds to process what had just happened.

You think for a few more seconds until you make up your mind. You then make your way out of the kitchen area and walk down the wall and around the corner. You head over to the elevator and push the button. Once it arrives, which only took a few seconds since Bakugou's dorm is on the second floor, you step in and then push the button for the second floor.

The elevator dings and the door opens. You step out of the elevator and then find yourself standing outside of Bakugou's door. You hesitate to knock.

Your mind races. "What should you say? Will he even answer? What if he yells at you? Is it even worth it?"

You eventually sigh and raise your hand to knock. You place your fist against the door and then knock a few times.

"Bakugou?" You ask.

You hear slight shuffling from inside and then an inaudible word which you swear was him cursing.

The door opens slightly after a moment, once he sees you he opens the door a tad bit more.

"You again? The hell do you want." He questioned as he stuck his hands into his pockets.

"Whatcha doing?" You question back in hopes of making small talk.

He looks at you for a minute before rolling his eyes. "Minding my damn business, extra. You should try it." He scoffs.

You click your tongue and sigh. "Right, well—"

"I'm not doing any favors for you shithead, so don't ask. I got enough to be doing right now as it is."

Before you can finish your sentence he cuts you off. You cross your arms. And shake your head in disbelief.

"You know what, fine. I was coming to try and talk and possibly hang out but since you want to be a jerk then I'll leave you be."

"The hell? No, don't walk away from me damn it."

He speaks and grabs you by your shoulder as you try to walk away. You turn around to face him again and so he removes his hand from your shoulder.

"If you wanted to hang out with someone then why the hell didn't you go to the mall with the rest of those shitty hair extras?" He quips.

"Forget it." You mock his voice from earlier.

He rolled his eyes. "Very funny."

You cross your arms again, getting defensive. This isn't how you had expected this conversation to go but here you both were, standing in the middle of the hallway bickering back and forth like children.

"I didn't feel like going, and what about you? You never hang out with our friends. What's your excuse?" You ask with an annoyed yet genuine tone.

He rolls his eyes once more.

"Those extras aren't my friends."

"Why not?"

"Huh?"

"We're classmates aren't we?"

"Well no shi-"

"Then why are you so distant from us? From me?"

He groans and goes quiet as you mention how he's distanced himself from you of all people. He doesn't mean too but... he can't help it. He's never been good with expressing his feelings. He had tried his best to shake away any and all thoughts about you but after that didn't work he just decided to ignore you and treat you like the rest. Another extra.

He rubs his temples.

"Why do you care so much?" He puts his hands back into his pockets.

Why do you care? You hadn't really thought about it this whole time while arguing. Or in general. There had been a few times where you, along with Kirishima, had tried to get Bakugou to participate with the rest of the class activities(you failed obviously) but you never really thought why you cared if he did or didn't show up. You didn't have an answer and he could tell.

He sighs and then glances in both directions of the hall and then back to you.

"Look," He groaned but this time was less annoyed, "how long do you think they'll be gone for?"

You shrug, and smile creeps onto your face as you think. "Who knows? Probably a few more hours since Mina is well, Mina."

"Why?"

Bakugou opens his mouth to speak but then closes it as if he's going to regret what he's about to say.

"You... we can hang out in your dorm for a few minutes I guess." He says with a more nonchalant tone, obviously trying to keep his cool.

A small smile tugs at your lips and you uncross your arms. "Are you being serious..?"

"Why the hell would I joke about that, extra."

"I...Okay, yeah, sure." You say with a loss of words. You definitely weren't expecting him to give in, especially so easily.

"Yeah, yeah, just don't tell anyone about this, you hear me? I swear to All Might that I'll beat your ass."

You can't help but smile.

He turns around to close his door and then back at you. "Stop staring at me like that, dumbass. Now let's go before I change my mind."

• — • — • — • — •

A few minutes later you're both in your dorm. You're sitting on the edge of your bed while Bakugou is sitting in your office chair, or rather, what you like to call it, your spinning desk chair.

Believe it or not you two actually found something to talk about, and what was supposed to be a few minutes hanging out, turned into nearly two hours of just sitting and talking in your dorm. Sometime during that time Bakugou had moved from sitting on your chair by your desk to instead leaning up against your bedroom wall while sitting on your bed.

You two talked and talked for what seemed like ages but in a good way. But unfortunately, all things come to an end. While Bakugou was talking your phone buzzed. You reached over for your phone and unlocked it. It was a text from Momo letting you know that your classmates were on their way back.

Bakugou went quiet. "Lemme guess, extras are back?" He mumbles.

You shake your head. "Not yet, Momo said that they're on their way.."

You two make eye contact for a few seconds. You then realize just how close you two are.

You're sitting on your bed with your back against a pillow as you sit criss-cross with a pillow on your lap while Bakugou, who you've unconsciously started calling him Katsuki in the short time you've spent alone, is laying on his back next to you with his arms crossed behind his head as he looks up at you.

Silence tends to linger in the room for a little too long before Bakugou breaks it.

"Those extras always have bad timing." He groans.

And you've got to admit, the way that you can tell Katsuki is visibly annoyed by the fact that the others will be here soon is kind of cute.

"Well, it's not like we can't do this again." You say with a hint of hopefulness.

He glances up at you before sitting up and stretching. "Yeah, yeah. Well, I should get going." He then stands up and turns slightly to face me. He looks relaxed. Bakugou walks over to your bedroom door and turns the knob, opening the door.

"Is that a yes?"

Bakugou pauses for a second.

"Sure, dumbass."

Bakugou replies without turning to face you and then after a few seconds he continues out the door, closing it behind him.

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed it!!!🤍 This is my first time writing a fanfic here it so I'm sorry if you were expecting more with the ending. I'm not really a big fan of Bakugou(like at ALL)but I think he's fun to read abt and write for so yeah. I tried my best to keep him in character but unfortunately this was just a whole lot of yapping 😭

#bnha bakugou #Bakugou #bakugou x reader #x reader #bnha x reader #kirishima x reader #mha x reader #fem reader #gn reader #izuku x reader #mha #helpmethisissobad #ihatecomingupwithendings #shinso x reader #bakugou katuski x reader

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yesbutmakeitgay · 13 days

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Once Upon A Time I Used To Know A Girl

Chapter 8

Carol Danvers x Reader

Masterlist | This work's masterlist | AO3

Summary: The King of New Asgard finally makes an appearance.

Angst, Slow Burn, Amnesia.

Word count: 959

I Hold The Knife At The Blade

You're in your room waiting for Kamala to come visit you as always. She seems to be running a little late, that's if she's even coming at all. With the way you left things the day before you're not so sure anymore. The worry in your mind starts growing when a suspicious knock interrupts you, before you can answer it, the door swings open to reveal The King of New Asgard.

"Val?" you yelp, "It's so good to see you." You reach out for her and share a comforting hug.

"Hey, Princess." You stiffen at the pet name.

"Did you just call me 'Princess?'" you ask, hoping you misheard her.

Realizing what just happened, she clarifies, "That's a thing I call you now, don't worry about it."

You mumble an 'okay' into her shoulder. She places a steaming mug on the table in front of you and takes a seat on the couch beside you.

"When did you get here?"

"Last night."

"Why didn’t you call?"

"I thought you detested intergalactic communications," she retaliates, "little Marv sends her regrets, she will not be making it today."

"Everything okay?" There is slight concern in your voice.

"She had to cover a last minute mission."

"On her own?"

"Oh, no, she has her team of teenage superheroes."

"So we're resorting to child labor now?"

"They're actually quite good." Valkyrie seems unbothered by the implications of your comment.

"They do sound kinda cute." You shrug it off.

"So, how are you doing?" She crosses her legs.

"I lost all my memories from the past several years, how do you think I’m doing?"

"That's not what I meant." She gives you a stern look.

You sigh, "The headaches are mild now, still have the weird dreams, though."

"Dreams? I haven't heard anything about these dreams."

"Do you also want my chart?"

"I see your attitude hasn't changed," she grins.

"It's been tough.”

"I can imagine." She places a hand on your shoulder.

After you make sure it's not scolding hot anymore, you take a sip of the mug Val brought for you.

"Cream, no sugar, how did you-" You stop yourself mid question, "I keep forgetting I’m the only one who doesn’t remember things," you huff and she gives you a sympathetic look, "tell me something about me."

She bites her lip for a moment, "You’re quite good with a sword," she smirks.

You chuckle, "I learned from the best."

"I was asked to keep you entertained for the day," A devilish smile starts forming on her face. "What do you say we go down to the gym and have some fun?"

On your way downstairs you encounter a small kitten that stops right in front of you. In an instant, tentacles come out of its mouth and it produces a toaster. "Did that cat just vomit up a toaster?" you ask, alarmed.

Valkyrie begins to explain, "That’s not a cat, it’s a-"

"Flerken," you interrupt her.

"Very good," Val is impressed.

"What’s it doing here?"

"What are any of us really?" she replies as 'you brought them back from a mission' doesn’t seem like something she’s allowed to tell you. You both keep walking.

You get to the gym and Valkyrie hands you a weapon, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the field so you ask her to go easy on you. She complies, if only because she would be in big trouble if she actually hurt you.

You go at it for a couple of rounds, she pulls some new moves and some you knew very well, though that doesn't mean you know how to handle them, Valkyrie has always been the best when it comes to swords.

"You’re off your game," she teases you in the middle of a fight.

"Oh, no, really?" you respond sarcastically, you get distracted by her words and she takes the opportunity to shove you down. She starts driving her weapon towards your chest and you hold your own sword with both hands, trying to push her away.

A scar on your neck catches her attention, it’s one she has never seen before, curiosity makes her lose her balance and you manage to turn her over, claiming victory over the match, "I’m done," you pant.

She stays underneath you, making no effort to move, "Is that all you can handle?"

"You try going through the most traumatic mission of your life and then sword fighting the King of Asgard."

"It’s New Asgard, have some respect for my Kingdom," she jokes.

"Right, sorry,” you feign an apology, “how’s royalty treating you?"

"It's not a big deal," she brushes it off.

"You wear three piece suits now, that's a big deal, you look hot." You eye her up and down as you say the last part.

"Why thank you, I try."

"Tell me, did we ever…?"

"No, never!" she answers before you can finish your question, pushing you off to the side and sitting up, "Are you thinking about it?" Her eyes go wide.

"Would it be so wrong if I said yes?" you insinuate, amused by her reaction.

"Yes, it would be!"

"Alright I didn’t say anything, you’re the one out here calling me 'Princess.'" You lift your arms in fake surrender.

"I said not to worry about it."

"I’m not!"

You awake in a dark, cold room, this time you are able to open your eyes ever so slightly and catch a glimpse of a screen. It's a fight, dozens of the same full armored men that took you, against a single target, a golden blonde figure in a red and blue suit with a star in the middle. Like clockwork, you feel a sharp pain in your neck and fall back asleep.

Chapter 9

Can you tell I Love Valkyrie?

Tags: @graniairish @carols-photonblast @thelittleliars @unicorniusfallapatorius @prplepeony

Let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

#carol danvers #carol danvers x reader #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #carol danvers angst #kamala khan #valkyrie

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inkedmyths · 1 year

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S1: E10 "Asylum"

Another one bc people won't shush and I GUESS I owe you guys. Blah blah blabbity blah

Oh an Asylum. Very classic horror ofc

Police officers? Interesting

Classic ghost story about a haunted asylum. Seems pretty par for the course

Of course they split up why wouldn't they

Oh! Look there are actual kids in here! Lol

WOAH he just appeared hello. I don't think that's him. Or he's possessed.

[ Kayla makes an allusion to her getting bullied by asylum ghosts last week. I know she works at an abandoned asylum, so I do not question this. ]

OOOH MUUUUURDER! SLOOOKIKY MURDER

[ I meant to type spooky. I have no doubt this mistake will be immortalized. ]

The man can barely work a toaster! Sam what's the context. Sam did your dad set a toaster on a fire

Oh are they having some kind of schtick. Sam smacks Dean and then gets more info that way

"Good cop" sure

[ Crepe says she can never tell if Supernatural is copaganda or not. My assumption is its a mixed bag, because what 2005 show starring white men would lean into any kind of ACAB concept. ]

Dean making fun of Sam for being psychic lmao

Dean if you keep making Shining jokes ur gonna get smacked. Again.

Bestie that's noooot a healthy relationship to have with your daaaad

[ Kayla laughs. I know enough about this show prior to watching to know that Dean has extremely pronounced daddy issues. ]

A PSYCHIATRIST? HELLO

This is so. Oh my god.

The psychiatrist is listing off issues in his head as Sam is trying to needle info

"You took forever" Sam had an actual appointment with a psychiatrist lmaooo

Oh look teens. Stupid teens

Please girl you should just LEAVE if he doesn't tell you that he's taking you to an abandoned asylum that's your sign to leave!!! Leave his ass!!!

OH HEY WHAT THE FUUUCK DOPPLEGANGER SHIT?? HE MADE OUT WITH A GHOST???

UH GUYS I THINK I SAW ONE OF YOUR MISSING BODIES OR SOMETHING

Obviously a lot of ableism happening here but that was expected

Kinda loving the music and atmospheric noises

OH HELLO

He shot a ghost

[ Crepe says its the lore. I know. Its still objectively funny. ]

Didn't hurt him, huh? Interesting

Oh its the teen! Hello teen gal

Oh ofc white blond girl dedicated to her kinda shitty boyfriend. Just like in real life

LMAO DEAN "Pay attention to horror movies"

SHE KISSED ME and Sam is like "Hwuh"

UH OH SHES BEEN YOINKED

Face it! Look at it!

Oh? Whats it saying?

137?

Going it alone is probably not a great idea

"I had a crappy guidance counselor" djdhsgsg

I figured. Something doesn't want them leaving.

Ok, so something bad happened to the patients, maybe this doctor was evil or something. The spirits are trying to... warn them? Get justice?

[ It's generally agreed that this is pretty much the standard for spooky asylum stories. ]

Oh cool the gal knows how to shoot a shotgun! Good for her

Was that even Dean calling? It was all choppy...

Oh this is where the cop guy went and lost it

Ohhh whisperssss spoooky

OHHH yep evil doctor ghost. This is just that one Dead by Daylight villian

[ There is now a brief moment of distraction, as Crepe said she thought the villian was "latex suit guy". After some discussion, it is revealed that she had mixed up Dead by Daylight with Until Dawn. ]

Oh there he is. He's not fine though. He's lying he's lyyyying

Oh boy Sam's got his head messed with and just rock salted his brother

Well I mean its like. Its like all his problems and issues have been brought to the surface

Man this is a scene

So much brotherly drama

Getting shot with rock salt has gotta hurt like a bitch

BEHIND YOUUUU

Ewwww there's the body

Gooooodbyyyyye evil doctor

You did mean it on some level Sam

Oh boy! There he is! On the phone! Bastard mc Bastard!

#on the highway to superhell #whats up mr winchester finally not giving ur kids the silent treatment

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hexpea · 2 years

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Ch. 9 - Just a Final Exam

The next morning, you woke bright and early. Your first mission: take out the special grade lurking around Tomari National Cemetery. It was safe to say your heart rate was higher than normal as you slipped into your uniform - to be expected after your last run in with a high level curse. Gojo, on the other hand, was chipper and excited. He could hardly keep still as you exited your bedroom, fists balled up and a tight bite on his bottom lip.

"Are you ready?" He asked quickly with a pearly, white grin.

"Hardly," you answered groggily as you meandered to the kitchen to make a quick piece of toast for breakfast.

"Oh come on, Y/N," he groaned, "you've got this. We've got this. I'm going to be there to make sure everything goes alright."

"You mean you're going to take the thing out for me and we can move on," you lifted an eyebrow in his direction while shoving a piece of toast into a slot in the toaster.

"No, no, no," he incessantly corrected, "you're going to do your best to take it out and I'm going to be there for backup."

"When did you become all high and mighty? You weren't like that on the plane ride down here. It's not like they're going to find out if you do it for me," you scoffed.

"You don't learn that way," Gojo grumbled as the toast you made jumped from the machine. You quickly slathered it with butter and jam as Gojo continued. "Curses are serious things. And sorcerers are far and few. We want as many skilled sorcerers as possible, so if after all of this I can recommend you to be first grade, I will."

Your eyes went wide as you bit into your toast. Geto was right. "You really would?" He nodded in response to your question without hesitation.

"And besides, the more skilled you are, the less likely you are to die," Gojo added nonchalantly.

"Gee, thanks," you replied sarcastically. "But you realize my technique only goes so far. I'm nowhere near your level."

"Sure," Gojo nodded in agreement before tilting his head upward in thought. "How about I turn 'my level' down a notch. I'll turn off my infinity, so if it comes down to me getting involved - I'll take it out with just my technique. How's that sound?"

"Whatever floats your boat," you chuckled while licking the jam from your fingers. "Let's go."

It didn't take long for the curse to appear, growing at a rapid pace from behind a headstone. You watched in horror as Gojo casually stood a few meters away with his hands calmly in his pockets.

"Why are the special grades always so large?" You asked yourself in a mumble, gulping heavily as it rose high into the air. It's shape was centipede-like, buggy-legs coming out from each nodule of torso it had.

You followed your usual maneuverings, attempting to stun it with your technique before going in with the Sai. Unfortunately, the curse, similarly to the last one, was faster than you - swinging a large hand toward your approaching body and launching you backwards. This time, Gojo was the only one there to catch your fall, quickly porting to catch you before you broke any headstones with your fall.

In one swift motion, his arm curled around your waist and you found yourself teleported to steady feet away from the monster. You watched from afar as Gojo finished the creature off with a single, simple move of his technique. As you watched, you felt tears beginning to well up - a soreness unlike any other building in your throat. Within the next few seconds, the hot tears had welled up enough to fall down your cheek. Again, you failed.

"Y/N, hey," Gojo jogged up to you as the creature continued to disintegrate behind him, "you okay?" He placed his hands on your upper arms as soon as he saw you crying, a concerned look on his face as he tried to get a better look at you.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you muttered. Gojo then removed one of his hands to cup your chin between his fingers, tilting your head upward as if to analyze for any injuries. It gave you the opportunity to look into his mesmerizing blue eyes that were peeking out from behind his sunglasses.

That was it.

You wasted no time. Any rational thought you had dissipated with your impatience.

You brought your hands up to his face, grasping firmly behind his skull, and brought him in. With his infinity off, you were able to successfully press your lips to his with little argument. You had never felt so much blood racing in your veins before. The warmth flooded your body unlike anything you had ever experienced. And his lips...his lips were so incredibly soft, his tongue warm against your own. He had melted into the kiss as well, allowing you to go deeper, nose against nose with warm breath running across one another's face. It was all you could've dream of and more, your first kiss.

"Don't tell Suguru," Gojo mumbled huskily as you cautiously pulled away for a moment. Mentally, you were ready to be scolded, but instead were welcomed with quite the opposite.

You didn't have time to question his command before he took the lead and dove in again, bringing your body closer to his by wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt the curvature of his muscles from underneath his uniform as you felt your breasts press tightly against his chest. The only reason your hands weren't shaking was because of how tightly you gripped the back of his neck.

"We...should head back," he advised, being the one to break the kiss. You nodded in response, feeling dizzy as your heart rate began to calm down.

Geto was seated at the island counter when the two of you walked in, faces still blushed. He smiled at you both while happily munching away at some cereal.

"Hey guys," he greeted, mouth full, "that was fast for a special grade."

"Yeah, it's a long story," you nodded with a complicated expression on your face. Geto furrowed his brow, eyes trailing you as you walked toward the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

"I'm gonna'...head out for a bit," Gojo suddenly informed the two of you. Without any reaction from you, Gojo instantly disappeared. It was clear he was having some complicated feelings that needed dealt with.

"So...what happened?" Geto asked with interest, leaning forward on the counter in front of him as if that'd help him hear you better.

"We...uh...kissed." You gave a half-smile to keep your excitement down. You were seconds away from squealing like some kind of high school girl. Wait...

"Really?" Geto lifted his eyebrows with disbelief. "No way..."

"Yes way," you gave in, squatting a bit to be at Geto's level and also as a way to contain your excitement. "And it was amazing! But he also told me not to tell you for whatever reason, so don't tell him I told you."

"Hmph," Geto was taken aback for a moment, "strange. But congratulations! That's a huge step!"

"Yeah, at least I'm getting somewhere. Hopefully it holds up when I come back from my graduation assignment," you sighed, remembering that you only had this month together before being apart for an entire year. Based on your birthday, the next time you'd see them would be when you were twenty seeing as your nineteenth birthday would be, coincidentally enough, the day of graduation.

#geto suguru #suguru geto #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto x you #suguru getou x reader #getou suguru x reader #getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x you #suguru getou x y/n #suguru getou x you #suguru getou #getou suguru #jjk #jujutsu kaisen

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forsakenwisdomdeliveryservice · 2 years

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Ok this is gonna be a lot different from my usual posts where it's just random thinking

I went through my notepad app and dug up something that I tried to turn into a song but then realized that adding rhythm to it doesn't feel right so I just left it and you know what I'll dump it here and call it poetry... here goes nothing...

It doesn't make sense

In the open a question stands

Yet again, just three letters

"Why?" it asks

"Because I don't know better"

It feels the emptiness of my eyes

"I have to make sure silence dies"

Nobody cares about what's going on

It's meaningless to use the microphone

In my bed

A shallow voice

It appears in my head

"I don't want to belong to reality's toys"

"What's new?" the fuck does it matter

World in shreds, bits and tatters

Look around, nothing to see

No friend to help, no enemy for me

To pin the blame on

To heat the flame on

To take out the rage on

Please choke me with a crayon

Why do you think so much of me

I just wanted to live free

Born to have fun in the wrong place

Now I'm left to watch as the days

Go on and make me see

This isn't my place to be

Happiness will happen yesterday

There's nothing useful left to say

Wrong thoughts, wrong words are back again

But there's no way to quit the game

If nobody missed me I'd do it today

Hey madness, I'm right on my way

Sewers and slides, pick your sides

In all of the pointless fights

There is no way to win or lose

All of us become only fools

As another toaster in the bath

Creates one another final breath

ok that's the end of it if you have any questions throw them in my ask and I'll get to them at some point in time

#poem #also yes the is called It doesn't make sense #poetry #i'm in a bad state of mind #: I #sometimes i want to cry but i can't #pointless shouting into the damn void #why am i still here

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robobarbie · 2 years

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Hello, everyone. I am the creator/director of blooming panic, and I'm here to answer your questions. Here are some guidelines for how things work, plus a FAQ and whatever else I can think of LOL.

Side reblogs blog: @roborandoms

Ask box: CLOSED

Ask theme: N/A

Hiatus'd theme: BLOOMIC ER (WE’LL SAVE YOU) (MAYBE) [ASKS NOT DELETED]

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INBOX RULES

1. If a question has been asked before or found in the FAQ below, I will skip it.

2. Keep your questions mostly sfw -- suggestive content is fine, but, ya know, i like to keep things pretty sfw with fans.

3. I typically won't answer asks that deal with the following: genderbending, sexual assault, animal death, situations that involve the LIs physically harming MC, fandoms I'm not familiar with, drugs, or eating disorders.

4. If a question is a little too shitposty, I'll skip it. But i respect your energy.

5. Please limit your questions to one or two characters if you want a scenario written out. All asks with more than two characters will either be skipped or have brief sentences for the scenarios, or I'll just choose a couple characters for you.

6. The inbox will close every time i cross 200 asks and will reopen when i have it below 100.

7. Also. I will just wipe the inbox from time to time.

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FAQ

----Where can I find your other games?

Right here.

----What ethnicities/races/nationalities do you headcanon the love interests?

Nightowl -- korean, immigrated to america. can speak korean.

Quest -- white, born and raised in america.

Xyx -- filipino, born and raised in australia. Can speak tagalog.

Nakedtoaster -- danish, immigrated to america. Cannot speak danish.

----Are any of the love interests open to polyamory?

Of all of them, toasty and xyx are the most open to it.

----What are the LIs birthdays?

Toaster: Jan 11th, Nightowl: Apr 1st, Quest: Sept 24th, Xyx: October 30th

----How do you pronounce "xyx"?

Either "ecks-why-ecks" or "zicks".

----Can BloomBot detect/censor [RANDOM IDEA]?

Yes.

----Who are the two characters that appear in the nightowl route?

That's ace and keldran from Deliver Us From Evil.

----Do you have anywhere we can send donations?

Nope! But you can donate that money to charity and I'll think you are Very Cool.

----Will there be more blooming panic content?

We don't have any content planned at this time.

----Will blooming panic be ported to mobile?

Only if I have a mental crack and decide to go apeshit porting it for a week. Otherwise no.

----Can I make fan merch?

Yes.

----Where can i join the discord server?

Here.

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1234-angelika · 3 years

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Restorations

an:Hey y'all! So the weather is finally cooling down a bit here, not that I wasn't loving it, but I am finally managing to get some work done. This is the fifth installment in my Happily Ever After series for Derek. As always, hope y'all enjoy!

words:1.3 k

warnings:PDA (maybe) but other than that, I don't think there are any

summary:"We shape our homes and then our homes shape us." -Winston Churchill

masterpost|taglist|have an idea

You knew that outside of his work at the BAU, Derek had a side business restoring and flipping houses.

Since he used this business as a stress reliever and a hobby, that’s usually how he would spend his days off. When you were together, though, you would usually spend the afternoon with take-out in a movie-marathon haze. Occasionally, you would go out, but it was more important to the two of you to spend time together. You had only been to a worksite once. So, Derek promised that he would bring you out to a worksite one day, and you would work on it together.

It was five-thirty in the morning on a Wednesday, and you had just come back from your run when the phone rang. In an effort to answer the call promptly, you paid no mind to the caller ID.

“Hello?”

Derek’s voice rang through the receiver, “Hey Sunshine. That’s the hello I get?”

Giggling, you answered, “Good morning casanova.”

“Loving the new nickname sunshine.”

You smiled as you heard D’s nickname for you. “What’s up Derek? Usually you don’t call this early, especially on a day off.”

“Can you meet me later?”

“For sure. Where?”

“I’ll text you the address. Does eleven-thirty work for you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Ok. I love you Sunshine.”

“I love you too, hercules.”

You took a long shower to relax. Deciding that an hour in the shower was long enough, you finished up and made your way out to the closet. The weatherman said it would be reaching an estimated high of 87°F. This heavily influenced your choice of an outfit. You grabbed your favourite pair of shorts, a comfy black tank top and a blue flannel to wear on top. You paired your most comfortable pair of shoes with the outfit while still keeping cool in the Virginia heat. After getting dressed, you did your hair and then went on to makeup. Meandering into the kitchen, you started to think about breakfast. You gathered the components and started making it. You had just put the bread into the toaster when your phone alerted you of a text message. Picking it up, you read that it was from Derek.

Hey Sunshine.

The address is 3972 Hazelmere lane. I can’t wait to see you.

You shot a quick text back confirming that you were still meeting him and asking if he needed anything. Then, you put down your phone and continued with your breakfast. You ate your food while flipping through the latest edition of your favourite magazine. Once you finished your food, you had to make an effort to keep busy. You tidied your condo before getting started on some paperwork for your upcoming training sessions. You worked and worked until all of a sudden, the clock read eleven. You decided to just leave your place and be early for whatever you were going to do.

The drive took longer than anticipated. Instead of the fifteen minutes, you estimated, the drive actually took forty. Finally, you pulled up to the address, and confusion overcame you. At the address was a beautiful house with a lot of yard in the front and plenty of trees. You parked the car—which wasn’t done super well, parallel parking—grabbed your bag and climbed out. Looking around, you spotted Derek’s car but no sign of Derek. Taking a chance, you walked up to the front door, but when you knocked on it, it just got pushed open. You walked towards the deafening banging sounds you heard, and it was there that you found Derek. He was taking down the rotted cabinetry and dropping it on the ground. He paused when he noticed you in the doorway and climbed down the ladder.

“Hey sunshine,” he said, kissing your cheek.

“Hi Der. So, where are we?” You asked, trying not to be too apparent in your ogling of his sweaty body. As you finished your question, his body language became nervous. The same as it was when he had asked you to be his girlfriend.

“Y/N,” he said, and instantly you noted the severity of the upcoming conversation, all playfulness was gone from his voice, “you know that I do this as a side business and I did promise you that we could work on a project together. I thought it could be this one. If you’re up for it, we could make this our forever home. What do you say?”

You squealed out in happiness and launched yourself into his arms. He readily caught you, and as you hugged him, you felt his chest rumbling beneath you, an indication that he was laughing. You pulled away, and he looked at you with a brow raised.

“So I guess that’s a yes?”

“Yes!” You kissed him hard, making sure your point got across. “So Derek, where do we start?”

He grabbed a spare pair of protective glasses from the counter and handed them to you. “We start with some demolition. Don’t bang out any walls. We’re just removing cabinetry, mirrors, light fixtures and flooring.”

You nodded and walked off to what you could only guess was the living room. You made a cut into the carpet before starting to pull it up. You slowly made your way around the house, pulling the flooring up, room by room, focusing only on carpet and laminate. You were now in one of the bedrooms pulling up the last floorboard when Derek appeared in the doorway.

“Need any help gorgeous?”

Standing up, you shook your head, “nah, I finished the flooring.”

“Are you done for the day?” Derek asked you, hoping you still had the energy to do some shopping.

“Not yet. I’m still good, why?”

“I wanted to take you shopping for some materials for the house.”

“Our house,” you said, correcting him with a grin.

“Our house.” Derek said with a smile akin to your own.

The drive to the hardware store was quick. The two of you walked hand-in-hand, picking and choosing the hardware and appliances. The hardware and the appliances were easy to determine, the hardware was matte black, and the appliances were stainless steel. Both complemented the cabinetry planned for the home, white for most of the cabinets and sage green for the island cabinets. However, paint and flooring ended up being a different story. You and Derek had utterly opposing ideas, and coming to a compromise was no easy feat.

“So, what paint were you thinking?”

“Well, I was thinking we do grey on grey.”

“Are you saying grey paint AND grey flooring?”

“Yeah. It’s simple…design-wise anyways.”

The opposition to the idea was evident on your face, and he sighed before saying;

“What were you thinking Y/N?”

Taking a moment to consider his ideas, you said, “What if we went for a lighter grey for most of the walls…and instead of the grey flooring, we go for a walnut coloured vinyl instead?”

He nodded as he considered your ideas. “What do you mean most of the walls?”

“Well, I wanted to use shiplap in the entrance way but I was thinking that instead we could use it as a feature wall against the staircase.”

“Y/N, have I ever told you what a genius you are?”

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p.’

“Well you are an amazingly talented lovable genius,” he said before leaning over and kissing you.

The two of you were walking through the aisles of the hardware store pushing the cart, your head leaning on his bicep when he asked;

“So, what about the kitchen?”

And that’s how you spent the rest of your day off and others alike. Building your forever home together.

taglist: @multixfandomwriter @myescapefromthislife @gspenc

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #derek x reader #derek morgan x reader #happilyeverafter #hea

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monsoonblooms12 · 3 years

Text

The Butterfly Effect (Ethan Ramsey x f!MC)

Summary: The Journey from where it all began to where they are now. From a 2-minute power nap to a Miami kiss, Pooja and Ethan have come a long way. From Pooja's POV (Set in OH Bk 1 Ch 10 and contains flashbacks from OH Bk 1 Ch 1, Ch 4 and Ch 5)❤

The Butterfly Effect: Discovered by Edward Lorenz, this theory suggests that something small and insignificant, can alter situations in such a way that leads to utterly drastic changes. For example, a butterfly flaps its wings at an Amazonian Jungle and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe. (This has to be one of my favorite theories ever🦋)

A/N: I got inspired from a dark Academia quote and here we are with 2.4K of mess. But I enjoyed providing all the fbs from Poo's POV and filling in the gaps of the unknown. And all the DbC peeps, I am trying to finish ch 8 believe me😭

Thank you so much to @jamespotterthefirst for Pre-reading! Love you🧡

If you enjoyed the story, please like it, leave a comment or reblog. Your feedback keeps me going🦋

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey X f!MC (Pooja Sharma)

Word Count: around 2.4K

Rating: General

Category: A messy mix of Fluff and Angst

Warnings: None that I found

A grain of sand, almost imperceptible to the human eye, 2 millimetres in diameter. Just a tiny little grain of sand, a single one. One would wonder how great of an effect that could produce?

A single grain of sand, eliminated from the base of a sand sculpture, can set on fire a cascade of events that result in something as drastic as the demolition of the entire sculpture. Just a trifling 2 mm sized grain of sand.

Tufts of hair gently swayed with the swooshing ocean breeze, the very grains of sand of which her mind was thinking about slip through gaps of her toes. It's a calming atmosphere, having a Zen-like effect on her racing heart and confused reasoning.

The echoing crash of ocean tides, the hushed ruffle of her shimmering purple dress, and the pattern of her footsteps of the white sand, now silver under the enchanting moonbeams.

She could not think about bad ideas and good ideas anymore. Nor could she obliterate the delicate touch of peach lips ingrained in her mind. Everything was a lock of tangled hair, a chaotic mess in her mind.

And when you can't disentangle a mess, you just tear it off.

That was what she was doing, tearing herself away before her mind got engulfed by a cocoon of ambiguity and concealed probabilities, restricting her to get out without getting transformed into someone else.

Legs exhausted after strolling for who knows how long, Pooja sits down, not bothering about the sheet of sand fragments that adhered begrudgingly to the purple satin.

A simple motion ensues, the florid hair tie holding her brown hair strands in a ponytail, now lay in her hand, giving them the liberty to enjoy the tranquillity of the idyllic scene they found themselves in.

Relaxation. That was what she anticipated. The soothing of her racing heart, the clearing of her muddled head, the easing of her bothering thoughts.

But it never came, the relaxation she desired.

Instead, her fingers, for a reason mysterious even to her, fidgeted the diamond imitation bracelet that embellished her left wrist. A twitch unveiled a vague scar, a remembrance of an old episode entirely cleared off from her mind.

Flashback

Pooja was a Potterhead. An extreme one indeed. Sometimes the thought made her chuckle. How she despised the books once, presuming they were overrated. And then, as if a magic trick had been performed on her, she became the Maven of the Harry Potter club.

But being a Potterhead and having to live in a niche under the stairs did not go hand in hand. The room under a staircase was still a room under a staircase. And every day, her mind replayed the poem of curses to her, as if to warn her to never search for an apartment on a Facebook Group ever again.

And now she stood, waiting for the century-old toaster's ping, as sleep struck like pin-pricks on her eyelids, threatening to close them off. It was a bad day today, the phone battery drained, and she, coffee drained. And the cherry on the top? Today was the first day of her residence at the most prestigious hospital in the entire States.

Uff!

She yawned the hundredth time, sleep playing a tiring game of chess with her mind, and giving it a Check! every now and then.

I don't even know a goddamn coffee shop around in here!

Displeased grunts accompanied the thought as she took the knife and began slicing the apple she had been floundering around for quite some time.

One Slice, and Another, and Ano-

Snorr!

What an ability it was to fall asleep anywhere, in any position! What harm would a "Power Nap" of a minute or two do? Right?

AAHHH!

The scream came out in bits, first when her eyes fluttered open with the sudden pain. A pause followed when she actually looked at the source of it and after her eyes and mind registered what was happening, came the second scream.

She was getting the taste of just how profitable the power nap was.

Hurrying away, she rummaged around for a first aid box, failed to find it, trotted to her Harry Potter adobe and took out the medical goodies she had brought with her. After ransacking through it, she found the antiseptic and the swabs she was looking for. Then a faint sound came from the blinking cellular and she picked it up, not waiting for breakfast. Just as she clicked the unlock button...

HOLY SHIT!

What? How? Her mind could not register. The only thing she understood was that she was notoriously late for her first day, and now she would have to do all the running that she had avoided for all the preceding years.

Letting out another pained groan, she kicked two flowerpots on her way to the kitchen, took the toasted slices of bread, switched off the stupid piece of machinery and ran.

She was sure she would have come first in any marathon if she had run in them with the speed she was racing right now.————————————————————————

Did she know about Dolores Hudson? No, she didn't. Had she planned on telling about her to Dr Ramsey? No, she hadn't.

The two words had inadvertently slipped off her tongue, not envisioning it as an indication. But as soon as they reached his ears, it felt as if a domino had been pushed. One pushed on to the other, leading to a chain of events that had given no hints, no warnings at all.

And now she was in the NICU, chatting with the man whom she considered an idol, a role model as if they were old companions. It was an enchanting experience to see the intern-terrorizing gentleman, so ... normal.

She questioned her mind's choice of word, but she did not completely disagree. To see Dr Ramsey, sitting here with an intern, talking with her, for no particular purpose other than the fact that she decided to stay back here in contrast to any other person, who would have valued their sleep than watching over a premature baby with whom she had no connection.

When sleep muddled her thoughts, she didn't realize what she was doing. Head lowered into his shoulder in a motion that felt like a reflex embedded in the nerve cords of her spine. She missed the gentle smile, decorating the handsome face of his, as he watched her from the corner of his eye, his eyes holding an emotion unrecognizable.

Was it affection? Pride? Adoration? Or something completely different? Who knew.

But if there was something she did know after that day, it was that she felt lucky, damn lucky, for that slip of the tongue.————————————————————————

How idiotic of her the decision was, she didn't want to talk about it.

Pooja had only found herself running the way she was running now on the first day of her residence, and she had only herself, and no one else to blame.

Why did she think that giving up on the most wanted position for every medicine intern in Edenbrook for friends when every one of them participated in it was a good idea?

If only her brain comprehended her priorities appropriately, she wouldn't have to rush through roads like a person who was missing their train.

Panting, grunting, and completely tensed, she arrives at Edenbrook. Steps don't slow down until she arrives before the light beige door, huffs and puffs, not pausing for a split second. She doubted if her legs still had the power to walk or if she would have to crawl into the office.

Nah, no more embarrassment, she would not be able to bear it. With the power that remained in overworked limbs, she knocked, entered and gave her reasons for the delay. And then, by a margin of a minute, she signed the sheet, absolutely normal but still holding the power to twist her entire life in an unforeseen way.

But did she regret it? She couldn't, and she wouldn't.————————————————————————

Miami. The city of gorgeous beaches, giving the aesthetic of peach and teal life. The expensive marble-floored hotel rooms in which she found herself was unreal. Definitely not made for some random intern.

Gorgeous decorated interior, delicately manicured lawns, elegantly made fountains, all standing majestically, giving a fight to each other. She glided through the vast space, joy overcoming job as she breathed the calming salty air coming from the oceanfront, which appeared like a picture frame in front of her. She had never seen anything so perfect in her life.

It was like Ataraxia.

She preferred Mountains over Beaches. She always had, and without a doubt, she always will. But when something looks so heavenly, it would be absolute stupidity to forego the chance of visiting it, even if it contrasted her preferences.

Forgetting the not-so-pleasant interaction with Declan Nash, which appeared like a stone in her perfect day, she let her sensations delve into the delicious culinary masterpieces that melted in her mouth like wax.

All the merrymaking and socializing drained her. But the gentle talks, soft giggles that she shared with him, an extraordinary, priceless moment, seemed to charge her, rejuvenate her. A corner of her heart did hope for something to happen. But she hushed it, not wanting to spoil the casualness, the beauty of the simplicity that blew in the air between them.

It felt like existing in the setting of one of those Michael Faudet quotes, one of them particularly being emphasized by her mind.

"As our eyes meet, all-time seizes to exist. The dying second frozen like petals of red roses kissed by autumn frost."

Pooja's mind still reeled, falling freely into the void as passion and some unnamed emotion overtook them. His heart steady under the touch of her palm and hers racing under the touch of his. She would not be able to remove the unreal image from her idiot of a heart, even if she wanted to.

Sleep refused to come to her, even after calling it repeatedly. She sat up, relieving the memory, playing in front of her like a sepia movie on the silver screen. Eyes travelling around, only to fall on a bouquet kept neatly at one of the antique corner tables.

It was white lilies and purple orchids.

Pooja Sharma didn't know the language of flowers when she received them, with a tag casually signed as E. A vague tag like that did not help to know the actual sender. The man whom she kissed had a name beginning with E, the hotel she was staying in had a name beginning with E.

Hell, even the hospital she worked in had a name with the letter E.

But if she had known the language of flowers, she would have pinpointed the symbolism hidden in it.

The White Lily carrying the meaning of Purity, Sweetness while Purple Orchids a clear cut indicator of admiration and elegance.

She would have been able to tell which E had sent the delicately wrapped piece that now lay uncared for in the corner of her room.

Feelings overcrowded reason, and she found herself suffocated in the very room that seemed heavenly to her in the morning.

Slowly and silently, she walked away to find the solace which he or she could not give her, in nature.

Flashback ends

As the amaranthine ocean glistens, waves crash and the foamy water rushes to engulf her feet as she stood, hands wrapped around herself, she felt she had truly found solace. There was a spiral, an unending coil of memories, a string which, when pulled, tugged in emotions hidden in darkest corners, forgotten but related, all tied together.

It was surprising, enigmatic, how much the little brain of hers, the soft heart of hers, holds in them. A constant battle of reason and emotions ravage the tired battlefields of her body. How casually, reminiscences of a bygone day appears, flicker like the reflection in the mirror of the calm pond water, but remain clear through the ripples that spread on the surface from time to time. That's how memories work, still clear, still dear, even after passing through chaotic ripples of time.

As she reaches the end of the spiral, the helix of her thoughts, she finds herself even more astonished than she was when she reverted to the first pages of the memoirs of her stay in Boston.

It was just a minute, or a word or two. Always so insignificant.

Every ignored act added one upon another and resulted in the catastrophic mess of heartbreak and affection she found herself today.

The 2-minute Power Nap of her first day? It led to the 2-degree shift of the knife and the scar that her finger was tracing now.

That 2-degree shift led to the delay in her reaching the hospital?

It resulted in her meeting her mentor, which gave her the chance to do the thoracotomy with him, to experience how it felt when his hand enveloped hers.

Those two words that slipped as a nonchalant thought off her tongue? It was why she could know how Ethan Ramsey was, behind the tough exteriors, the short-tempered demeanour, how it felt to place her head gently on his shoulder, to wake up to his glowing face.

And that one minute past midnight, when she signed up for the challenge that would change her life? That is why she is here, hair ruffling and eyes glistening, the Leucos Moon reflecting on the glistening water, the crepuscule spread mystically around her. That is why she knew how it felt to be touched by him, kissed by him, to get lost in him.

When Edward Lorenz discovered the butterfly event, he had correlated mathematics and meteorology. Had he thought that the same butterfly effect had turned an unassuming intern's life upside down, pushed her so back in the void of circumstances that it was impossible to come back?

Just a 2-degree shift of a knife, and now she was here in Miami. Just like the unassuming butterfly's flap of wing, which now ravaged a storm through her life.

Glassy droplets make a slow trail down the curve of her cheeks and drop on the scar as if trying to meet the origin which has brought her to the coordinates of the present.

And even though she did not know what would happen in the days to come, she was happy, truly happy, for that shift of her knife and for the 2 minutes of the power nap.

For the butterfly effect of love.

PS: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you have a great day ahead! Love, Manamee🧡.

Tags (Please let me know if you want to be added or removed or if I forgot you):

Perma: @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @udishaman @aestheticartsx @twinkleallnight @schnitzelbutterfingers @sophxwithers @sweatyrysconnoisseur @nikki-2406 @choicesfanaf @trrfanaddict @starrystarrytrouble @gardeningourmet @parkbarks @mvalentine @lovablegranny @mercury84choices @helloayz

Open Heart (All fics and edit): @lucy-268 @maurine07 @bellcat2010

Ethan x Pooja (fics): @aleynareads @stygianflood @choicesaddict5 @mysticaurathings @jamespotterthefirst @ilikemenbutonlyethanramsey

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics @choicesbookclub

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depressedstressedlemonzest · 2 years

Note

Promt idea for some fluffy Franny and Uncle Mickey time! When Mickey is upstairs crying after Terry dies Ian walks downstairs, and when asked explains Mickey isn’t doing well and has been crying. Franny freaks out with worry because her uncle Mickey always says tough people don’t cry. One of the siblings explain to her that even the toughest of the tough cry when they are REALLY sad. Franny then makes it her mission to make him feel better.

Franny looked up from her cereal to see Uncle Ian coming down the stairs. She watched waiting for Uncle Mickey to appear next, but after a few minutes he still hadn't shown.

"Where's Uncle Mickey?" Franny asked directing the question at anyone, but looking at Uncle Ian.

Ian glanced around the room avoiding his niece's eyes for a moment.

Debbie was talking to Sandy and didn't seem like she heard what Franny said, Liam was working on some math homework at the table. Lip and Tami were in the living room talking, and Carl was looking at Ian waiting for him to answer Franny.

"He's upstairs Franny." Ian answered finally pouring a cup of coffee for himself. Trying to remember if Mickey had eaten anything in the last twenty four hours.

"Why?" Franny asked, Uncle Mickey always came down for breakfast.

"He isn't feeling the best." Ian answered as he popped some toast into the toaster and grabbed a banana from the bunch on the counter top.

"Is he sick? Does he have a temperature? Does he need to go to the doctor?" Franny asked one question after the other, barely leaving any time for Ian to answer a question.

"No he isn't sick." Ian grabbed the peanut butter and jelly as the toast popped out of the toaster.

"Then why isn't he feeling good?" Franny asked, her mind scribbled with confusion.

"He's been crying a lot and has a headache and stuffy nose now." Ian answered before thinking, immediately wanting to take the words back.

Franny's eyes went wide, "Uncle Mickey is crying?"

Her mind began to race, what was so bad that it was making her Uncle Mickey cry?

It seemed like everyone else left the room leaving Uncle Ian the only one to answer her questions now.

"Is he hurt?" She asked thinking of the time she fell off the bed and hit her head on the dresser, she had cried then.

"Not necessarily." Uncle Ian answered, his eyebrows scrunching up.

"Did he have a scary dream?" Franny asked propping her elbows on the table and leaning towards Ian.

"No, don't think he slept much." Ian answered slathering one piece of toast with peanut butter and the other with jelly.

"Did he lose his kitten?" Franny asked tilting her head to the side.

Ian looked at her, "He doesn't have a kitten, none of us do."

"Well Randlynn said that she cried when she lost her kitten." Franny said matter-of-factly.

"No, Franny, he's just sad." Ian said, his face softening, feeling a little bad for making her worry.

Franny frowned, remembering a day Uncle Mickey had picked her up early from school. Teddy Prichard had picked on her until she cried, she faked a stomach ache and she had the nurse call Uncle Mickey.

READ ON AO3

He of course came swaggering into the nurse’s office in less than half an hour to pick her up.

“So you gonna tell me why you really wanted to leave school while we get some ice cream? Or you gonna keep it a secret?” He asked as they walked next to one another down the sidewalk.

They reached a crosswalk and Franny’s hand reached up to hold Uncle Mickey’s as they crossed the street. She could see the little upward tug of his lips when she gave his hand a squeeze.

“Tyler Prichard was being mean at recess. He kept pushing me down and saying I had no soul that redheads are ugly.” Franny said softly.

Uncle Mickey had made an angry noise in his throat and he stopped walking for a second. Franny looked up at him and he had a funny look on his face.

“What is it Uncle Mickey?” Franny asked trying to figure out why his face was pulled like that.

“Trying to figure out how much trouble I’d be in if I beat up a six year old. Or his dad.” His eyebrows were doing their angry scrunch and it made Franny smile a bit.

“I’d probably go to prison again, but it would be worth it. Maybe I can get Carl to be the one to arrest me.” Uncle Mickey had muttered starting to walk with Franny again.

Franny giggled and Uncle Mickey’s face had softened.

“So did he hurt you when he pushed you down? Get any scrapes or owies you needed the nurse to fix?” He asked as they made their way into the Dairy Queen.

Franny shook her head as they went to stand in line.

“I went to the nurse because I was crying and didn’t want him to see me. So I told nurse I had a tummy ache and to call you.”

Uncle Mickey’s mouth flattened into a line, his eyebrows angry again.

It was their turn in line and Uncle Mickey ordered them both big hot fudge sundaes, one with nuts and one with sprinkles.

They waited at the counter while the lady behind it made them and handed them to Uncle Mickey, “Alright Fran you pick where we sit.” He said nudging her towards the booths and tables.

Franny looked over their options carefully before choosing a booth in the corner and sitting down next to the window.

Uncle Mickey had slid into the booth next to her and put the hot fudge sundae with nuts in front of her and took the one with sprinkles for himself. Franny wiggled happily in her seat as she reached for her spoon.

“Franny, I wanna talk a bit more before we start eating our sundaes okay?” He said stopping her a moment.

Franny frowned but put her spoon down and looked up at her favorite uncle.

His mouth was pulled to the side and his eyebrows were scrunchy again.

“Franny, I know kids can be mean little fuckers. But, what that little shithead said, it isn’t true, none of it. Sometimes people are just mean Franny. The thing he said about not having a soul is an old joke he probably heard from his parents or older sibling or something. You have a soul, a good soul, even if that little fuckhead says you don’t, you just gotta remember that you do. You know yourself better than anyone else does.”

Franny’s brow scrunched up, “Uncle Mickey, am I ugly because I have red hair? Am I ugly?”

Uncle Mickey looked pained, like someone had hit him hard in the stomach, his eyes were a little watery in the corners.

“Franny look at me kiddo.” Franny looked up meeting Uncle Mickey’s blue eyes, “You are not ugly, you are a very pretty little girl, and redheads are gorgeous, some of the most beautiful people I know are redheads. Redheads are the people who were kissed by the sun. You and your Uncle Ian, both redheads, both touched by fire with sparks in their spirit.”

Franny’s cheeks hurt with how big her smile was, Uncle Mickey smiled back down at her, but something crossed his face, “Franny, even if someone is not pretty, they don’t deserve mean things being said to them. No one does.”

Franny nodded her head.

“And being pretty isn’t everything in life either. Do you know something that is important?” He asked picking up his spoon and glancing at hers.

“What?” She asked taking a scoop of her ice cream and eating it.

“Being tough, if you’re tough, even if you just act like you’re tough, people will usually leave you alone. And do you know something that tough people don’t do?” One of his eyebrows raised higher than the other and Franny thought hard.

“Tough people don’t make fun of other people?” She asked thoughtfully.

Uncle Mickey grinned, “Well that’s one thing, but another thing is, tough people don’t cry. Even if they feel sad or angry, even if some little shithead says something mean, they don’t cry. You’re a tough kiddo aren’t you?” He asked raising an eyebrow at her.

Franny thought a moment, Uncle Mickey is tough, Queen Justice is tough, Sandy is tough.

“Yeah, I’m tough!”

Uncle Mickey grinned at her, “Yes you are. Now next time a little shithead kid comes and says something mean?”

“I’m gonna kick his butt!” Franny shouted shaking a little fist.

Uncle Mickey laughed, then he looked at Franny carefully, the little crinkles at the sides of his eyes appearing, “And Franny, if there’s any time, you don’t feel tough, or don’t feel like you can be tough, that’s okay too. You got me and I’ll be tough for you. Okay kid?” He asked gently.

She nodded her head, “Okay Uncle Mickey.”

Franny looked at Uncle Ian who was slicing a banana onto the peanut butter toast he had made.

“Uncle Ian, Uncle Mickey had said that tough people don’t cry, and he’s tough.” She said trying to make sense of what Uncle Mickey had told her that day and the information she had gotten that he was crying.

Uncle Ian’s lips perked upwards a moment, “Uncle Mickey can sometimes have the emotional range and maturity of a teaspoon Franny.”

Franny’s eyebrows scrunched up, Uncle Ian looked over at her and must have sensed that she was confused.

“Franny, even the toughest people cry, especially when they are really sad. Uncle Mickey is really mixed up on how he feels right now. He’s sad, and angry, and happy l rolled together. And crying is the only way to relieve the pressure he is feeling in his heart.” Uncle Ian explained softly pressing the jellied toast over the top of the sliced bananas.

“Why does his heart feel pressure?” Franny asked.

Uncle Ian sighed softly, “His dad died, and his dad was not a nice man.”

“If he wasn’t nice then why is Uncle Mickey sad?” Franny asked, trying to remember if she knew who Uncle Mickey’s dad was, she had thought it was Grandpa Frank like her other uncles.

“He was still Mickey’s dad. There were some things that Terry did that weren’t completely awful at some point. Some good memories Mickey has from being a kid.”

The name Terry seemed to ring a bell in Franny’s head because the memory of her mom and Sandy walking her past the house next door while a white haired man scowled at them came to her.

“The mean old man next door?” She asked.

Uncle Ian seemed a bit surprised, but he nodded, “Yeah, that was Mickey’s dad.”

“He wasn’t very nice.” Franny noted.

Uncle Ian chuckled, “No he wasn’t.”

She sat and thought for a moment. She didn’t have a daddy, and sometimes that made her sad. So she could see why if Uncle Mickey didn’t have a daddy he would be sad too. She couldn’t remember if he had a mommy either, so that meant that he only had Uncle Ian. He also had her other uncles and her mom and her, but Franny knew that Uncle Ian was his favorite. But one person wasn’t very many.

Franny nodded her head, “I’m gonna make Uncle Mickey feel better.”

Uncle Ian watched her as she hopped up from her seat and dragged her chair to the fridge. Uncle Ian watched as Franny climbed onto the chair and opened the freezer door.

She shivered at the cold, but was able to reach in and grab the ice cream carton that was in there. She held it close to her as she climbed back down from the chair onto the floor, and then she dragged the chair to the kitchen counter.

Uncle Ian kept a watchful look on her as she placed the ice cream carton onto the counter and then climbed the chair again, she opened one cupboard and pulled out a bowl, then climbed from the chair onto the counter and reached on her tippy toes for the cabinet above the sink, blindly grabbing for the sprinkles and jar of hot fudge she knew Uncle Mickey hid there.

She felt a large hand on her chest and back and looked to see Uncle Ian holding her steady. She grinned at him and then grabbed the items she was looking for.

She crouched down on the counter and climbed back onto the chair.

She looked at the things spread out in front of her on the counter and looked at Uncle Ian, “Can you heat the hot fudge? Mom says I can’t use the microwave yet.”

Uncle Ian grinned and nodded grabbing a mug and a spoon he scooped two big dallops into the mug before popping it into the microwave.

While he did that Franny grabbed a spoon and scooped out some oblong shapes of ice cream into the bowl. When the microwave dinged Uncle Ian took out the mug and held it until Franny was ready for it.

“Okay Uncle Ian.” She said holding her hands out after scooping about six scoops of ice cream.

Uncle Ian handed her the mug gingerly, wanting to be careful.

She poured the hot fudge around the outer edges of the ice cream until it was all out of the mug, then she grabbed the jar of sprinkles and popped the top on it. She shook them out onto the ice cream until it had a nice coating of it. Then she hopped off the kitchen chair and onto the floor, grabbing the bowl and spoon off the counter and holding it against herself as she made her way up the stairs.

She could hear Uncle Mickey making noises on the other side of the accordion door to his and Uncle Ian’s room.

She held the bowl in one hand and knocked on the door frame with the other.

“Go away Gallagher.” Uncle Mickey’s voice called out with an angry snap.

“It’s me Uncle Mickey.” Franny called back to him.

“Fuck.” She heard him say under his breath.

She heard him sniffle and take a deep breath, “Okay Franny you can come in.”

Franny slid the accordion door open and then held the bowl with both hands as she walked into the bedroom.

Uncle Mickey was sitting at the head of the bed, his eyes were rimmed red and puffy and his cheeks were pink.

“Hey kiddo.” He said, not moving from his spot on the bed.

“Hi.” Franny said as she made her way to the side of the bed closest to him.

Uncle Mickey looked at her oddly as she thrust the bowl of ice cream at him.

“What’s this? Ice cream for breakfast?” He asked with a chuckle.

“Yes, scoot over.” She ordered pointing a finger to the empty space on the bed next to him.

He huffed but scooted over while balancing the bowl.

Franny climbed onto the bed and sat on her knees facing him.

“What’s goin on kiddo?” He asked giving her a somewhat worried look.

“I mean I’m liking the ice cream, but it’s awful early to be hittin the good stuff.” He looked from her to the ice cream.

“Do you remember when you picked me up from the nurse? You took me to get ice cream.” Franny explained.

Uncle Mickey’s eyebrows did their little wiggle but he nodded, “Yeah, are you having more issues with that kid? Because I talked to Carl and he’s got my back. Hell Liam can beat him up too.”

“No, I took care of him,” Franny said dismissively waving her hand.

“but you took me for ice cream and it made me feel good, and I wanted you to feel good.” She said slowly.

Uncle Mickey’s eyes widened and the little lines between his eyebrows appeared.

Franny took a deep breath and looked at him carefully seeing if he would get the connection.

When he didn’t say anything she huffed slightly before scooting closer to him.

“Uncle Mickey, I’m sorry about your daddy.” Franny said softly, her arms reaching up to wrap around Uncle Mickey’s neck.

A strangled sob broke from Mickey’s lips as his niece wrapped her little hands around him.

He sat frozen for a moment and then he blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill over again. He sniffed and reached a hand up, wrapping it around Franny’s tiny wrists and leaning his head towards hers in a reciprocal hug.

When she pulled away he couldn’t help the little swell of love and pride he felt over this kid.

“Thanks Franny.” He said in a half whisper.

She gave him a small smile, “Uncle Mickey, I know you said tough people don’t cry,” she started, her big blue eyes looking up at him, studying his face.

“But I want you to know that it’s okay to cry, even when your heart isn’t sure why you’re sad. It can be good to cry, help the pressure go away.”

Mickey felt the tears starting to slip down his face, he held the bowl of ice cream in one hand and reached up to wipe them away, but Franny’s little hand reached up first, wiping them carefully away, then cupping Mickey’s face on either side, holding his face still so she could look at him.

“Uncle Mickey,” she said seriously, “if there’s any time you don’t feel tough, or don’t feel like you can be tough, that’s okay. You’ve got me and I’ll be tough for you. Okay?”

Her words echoed in his mind and he remembered saying the same thing to her at the ice cream shop.

He felt his nose plug up and more tears spring to his eyes as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “Okay Franny.” He said his voice barely above a whisper.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around her, giving her as big a hug as he could without hurting her.

“I love you Uncle Mickey.” She said softly in his ear.

He felt his heart twist in his chest as she continued to hug him, and he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out how he was so lucky to have her in his life.

“I love you too Franny.” he said, the tears still flowing, but he didn’t want to wipe them away this time.

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