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quibbs126 · 1 year

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Alright, so I just made up this character this morning basically right after waking up, and I thought I’d draw her and show her to you. As I said in the image, this is Ruby Cacao Cookie, and she’s supposed to be Dark Cacao’s older sister (not by that much though)

I got her name because a few weeks ago, I was looking up ruby chocolate to see what exactly it was, and apparently ruby chocolate is made from a new species of cacao bean called ruby cacao. She was originally just going to be a character named Ruby Choco that Dark Cacao used to know, but then I remembered that ruby chocolate came from ruby cacao, so I thought “ooh maybe they could be siblings if she were Ruby Cacao” and so yeah

Also, as you might be able to guess, she’s supposed to be where Dark Choco gets his red eyes from, since while I like Dark Cacao ships (mainly Jujube/Cacao and Pure Vanilla/Dark Cacao/White Lily (does that have a ship name? I’m calling it purecacaolily)), I’m pretty sure in canon, Dark Choco’s only supposed to have one parent, that being Dark Cacao. So why not say he got it from another family member?

I made her hair a different color so she stood out from Dark Cacao and Choco, so I colored it after the ruby cacao pods I saw online. But I still kept the white streaks to show the connection

To be honest, I was struggling today with both her design and backstory (which was also my revision of my take on Dark Cacao’s backstory, since I’ve changed what I thought about it), mainly since I have two tests today, one of which I still need to take, and this morning my brain was split between doing physics problems in recitation, reading the books/notes for my Literature test in like an hour, listening to the discussions going on at the table, and coming up with stuff for her. Then after that I was just mentally exhausted from the Literature exam. Only in the past few hours have I been able to come up with something

Aight, so. The backstory. Note, the main character in this story will be Dark Cacao, since this also serves as my retcon of his old backstory

So Dark Cacao came from the Cacao Tribe, a place that at the time, was barely holding on. The people were starving and struggling to find enough food, the beasts in the area had grown more vicious, and their best warriors had all now crumbled away. Because of this, the people of the tribe had basically lost all hope, and were just waiting for their inevitable demise. Any concept of happiness or laughter were nothing but a pipe dream; it was a truly miserable place. Dark Cacao lived there with his sister, Ruby Cacao. They didn’t understand why the adults had all just given in to despair, and wanted to speak out against it, but they were just children, and so no one would listen to them.

One day, the tribe’s demise came in the form of a particularly devastating attack on their village (I haven’t decided what). Dark Cacao and Ruby Cacao were just barely able to escape, and they, like any of the other survivors, fled into the mountains.

They wondered why things had gotten so bad in their tribe, and eventually figured that maybe if they had chosen to keep trying and help each other instead of always being hopeless, they could have saved themselves. So the two (it was technically Ruby’s idea, but Dark quickly agreed with it) decided that they won’t make that mistake, and that they would try and help Cookies in need.

They did this for a while, this giving them a drive which helped them thrive in the wilderness, up until one particular day when they found a group of Cookies being attacked by some monsters, and they fought them off (they can probably fight and use swords at this time, though it’s a bit rudimentary), but in the process Ruby Cacao got a pretty nasty wound. At the time, she shrugged it off, but on the journey back to the Cookies’s village, it quickly grew worse and she all but collapsed. They were eventually able to get to the village and find a healer, but by the time they did, it was too late, and unfortunately her wound would be fatal, due to internal bleeding. Soon, Ruby Cacao succumbed to her wound, but not before making Dark Cacao promise that he would continue to help other Cookies in need, and then crumbling in front of him

Edit: okay, so after more thought, I’m changing the backstory from when the Cacao Tribe was destroyed to when Ruby Cacao crumbles (everything I italicized) because I don’t like it. In my defense, what I wrote here was kind of literally my first draft that I had only come up with in a few hours. I’ll keep the original just for posterity, but just note, it’s not going to be part of it

So they managed on their own for a bit. While it was more difficult now that they didn’t have others to rely on, regardless of how helpful they were, but they found a way. However, one day they got attacked by a hungry beast, and while they were eventually able to drive it off, in the process Ruby Cacao got seriously injured.

Dark Cacao tried to help, but he could only do so much, and so he tried to find someone to help her. He was able to find other travelers or tribes, but when he asked for help, they turned him away, as they had to look out for themselves. By the time he was able to find a doctor that would actually try to help, it was too late, and soon Ruby Cacao ended up crumbling in front of him

After this, Dark Cacao was left in a daze, unable to process her death, and finding himself climbing the mountains in a blizzard, as if to join her. Thankfully, he was saved by a certain pair of twins. After this, he took some time to process it all, and told himself that he had to make sure that no one else goes through what he did by helping those in need. And so, he became a wandering warrior, helping where he could

During this time, he was very lonely, and desired companionship again, but at the same time, didn’t let himself be close to another person both because he didn’t want to lose someone again, and because he felt finding someone new would be a betrayal to Ruby Cacao, as if he was just replacing her. But most notably, his experiences had led him to have a rather cynical outlook on the world and other Cookies. He had learned that in this world, Cookies tended to only look out for themselves or the people they cared about, and that compassion for anyone else was scarce. He’d help others, sure, but he wouldn’t trust them, at least not to the extent that he could rely on them. So even if he wanted to be around others, just didn’t see a reason to risk it.

He dealt with those feelings for a long time, until he met the other Ancients and went along with them on their travels, eventually coming to the realization that there is good in this world, and he can allow himself to open his heart to others and be with them, even if Ruby Cacao was still gone

Over the years, Ruby Cacao is something he’s kept close to his heart, but also something he doesn’t like talking about (only the other Ancients know about her). Though, for a while, he was starting to feel as if he was forgetting her, as it had been so long since he saw her face. But when Dark Choco was born, and he saw those red eyes, he felt that painful pang of familiarity as he remembered once more

But yeah, that’s Ruby Cacao. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a Calc test to take

Edit: I just realized that I didn’t really mention anything about her actual personality. To be honest, I haven’t really thought about that much, but I’ll work on it

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #dark cacao cookie #ruby cacao cookie #my art #my oc #all right I’m back #pretty sure I did horribly on my test but moving on #so yeah pretty different from my old story #but after actually getting Dark Cacao and going through his story as well as just examining him in canon #I sort of got a different impression than I did initially #he seems like he never allows anyone to get close (other than his friends)#and I mean the dude straight up says he doesn’t know how to laugh #his backstory is probably pretty horrible #and also Might of the Ancients seems to suggest he hasn’t really met the dragons #or at least doesn’t know them personally #so in this they’re far less involved #but I think I may have understated them as they are kind of the reason Dark Cacao’s resolve is restored #and the three of them all have a deep respect for one another #oh yeah also another thing I forgot to mention #I like to headcanon the Ancients met and started traveling together when they were around Gingerbrave’s age #meaning that all of this happens to Dark Cacao before he’s even 12 #he’s a literal child when dealing with these things #also this means that Ruby Cacao died a child as well #oh also he hasn’t told Dark Choco about her or his past #edit: in the edit I feel like Ruby Cacao has even less personality but I’ll work on it #and also I changed it bc I thought it was better for Dark Cacao to come to the conclusion to help others himself #rather than it all be Ruby Cacao #it’s sacrificing Ruby Cacao for Dark Cacao

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 8 months

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me, wanting to make more AUs of things I've recently seen or rewatched: my brain, dripping oil sludge onto my AU thoughts: whoa there friend you might need to slow down =)

#mod post #if anyone knows the series I'm referencing and my brain is telling me to make an AU for u get a cookie #... or some lasagna and black water ;)#AHAHAHAHA I'M RUNNING WILD OK #I'm getting more done tonight than I thought I would bc these last two days have been fucking AWFUL #only got one thing done last night but so far tonight I've knocked out two and am working on a third #with any luck I can get five things done total but if I manage four I'll be happy #just so you know I may become a demon bc currently work is hell =')

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moonlit-imagines · 1 month

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Headcanons for being the forgetful Avenger

Avengers x reader

warnings:

a/n: it not too long i so sorry

prompt: @glitchy-bean: “Hi!!! I hope you're doing good!!! Could I request smth with a really forgetful reader + the avengers gang? More like found family than anything romantic at all with a teen reader if that's okay!!!”

“well sorry” -you, consistently “i cant remember everything”

“you can’t remember anything” -nat

“yeah, y/n, were you dropped on the head as a baby or something?” -tony

“cut it out, guys. it’s not their fault they forgot thor’s birthday. besides, hes had a couple thousand” -steve

“are you calling me old, captain?” -thor

“at least im not the only one” -steve

it wasn’t just birthdays you forgot

much much more serious than that

rendezvous points, mission details, plans of attack, perp descriptions, where you put your keys, where you put your gun

you name it you forgot it

i mean—not always, but enough for it to be the running joke

“keep your comms on, y/n. not having a disaster like last time when you couldn’t remember whether to cut the red wire or green wire” -tony

“you wish i cut the wrong one” -you

“uh, no, that’s very harsh. i moreso wished you didn’t scare us half to death by nearly digging your grave” -tony

“oh ok i forgot” -you

“who left their macaroni and cheese in the microwave?” -vision

“damn! its cold. and crusted a little. how long did i leave this in here?” -you, poking your tray with a fork “and why are you using the microwave? you dont eat”

“this is a shared space, is it not?” -vision

“he’s got you there” -steve

“you’re just ganging up on me because you’re all miserable and you want me to be miserable too. i’m going to drive one of tony’s expensive cars now, you can’t stop me” -you, storming out

you walked right back in

“what’d you forget?” -steve

“wallet, phone, keys” -you

tony noticed

“where is y/n going with my car?” -tony

“not sure, just out” -steve

“probably gonna forget their turn signal and crash into someone’s car” -tony

as far as missions went, though, you were a bit of a powerhouse so you didn’t really need to be looked after on that front…just had to make sure not to blow anyone else’s cover

“hey, what’s the codeword again?” -you

“check your wrist, kid” -nat

“oh, right…okay thanks” -you

“*gasp* was i supposed to give the signal? i just kinda went in” -you

“ok, who told y/n they could give the signal. speak up now” -tony

*clint loudly snickering over comms*

kinda forgetting what you’re talking about in the middle of sentences sometimes but like, just glitching out

“something smells like it’s burning” -you “my cookies…”

you forgot to set a timer

and forgot you were making cookies

the avengers honestly did find it endearing

just a hyper kid who cant get their thoughts in a solid line

but they’d continue making jabs at you constantly

“maybe wanda can fix your memory problems” -tony

“i will not” -wanda

“oh well nevermind then” -tony

honestly with all your forgetfulness, you worried as you dusted away if anyone would forget about you

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

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vampiresbloodx · 26 days

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Darling, My Darling.

summary: You're new life after retiring from the avengers with your two loves was more than perfect.

pairings: wandanat x reader.

word count: 718

warnings: fluff, tooth-rooting fluff, poly relationship, poly!wandanat, established relationship, living privately, plenty of flirting.

Translation: Любимая = darling in Russian (I'm not sure if I got that correctly, I just got it from google.)

Wanda stood in the kitchen, swaying to the music that played on in the background.

The team had just come over for a visit, a dinner, no one can say no to Wanda’s cooking. She was proud of that. All she added was a little magic and love to make it taste just right. She heard laughter abruptly coming from the living room, there were the two people she loved the most in the entire universe. She smiled softly, wondering how lucky she got, to have you and Natasha in her life.

“No, no, it goes like this” nat grinned, holding your hands as she guided them around her waist, she was teaching you how to dance, you were always the one left out because of your insecurities of not knowing how to dance at all.

“Nat, this is stupid” you said with a pout, feeling dumb about all this.

You knew she had the best interest in you. She wouldn’t do this to make you feel bad or laugh at you.

Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to caress your cheek, “Любимая, my Любимая, I only want what's best for you, and am I teaching you how to dance so you don’t feel left out at parties and events anymore? Yes. it breaks my heart seeing you sitting alone watching us, but if you truly don’t want to learn I can respect that” she says as she begins to step away from you.

You frowned, not liking how far she is, you grabbed her, pulling her closer.

“No,” you muttered against her lips, “teach me.”

She smiled.

As she starts to get in position, realisation hits you as your eyes widen.

“Wait, did you just sweet talk me into dancing with you?” you said with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe… Maybe I’m just that good” she laughs amusedly.

You shake your head at her.

“I was tricked, wow” you say, pretending to sound hurt.

“Tricked by whom? The woman you love? Doesn’t seem all that bad” Wanda said, walking into the lounge carrying a plate of cookies.

Natasha’s grin widens. As she knows she’s won.

“Anyways, I finished my baking and I want you two to be the first to taste it” she said.

“Wanda, were always the first to try it” you say with a smile.

She shrugs.

“Just taste it, or else.” she playfully threatens.

Natasha happily grabs a cookie, chocolate chip, a classic, but Wanda’s are always better and different than to anyone else. She took a bite and so did you, at the same time, you both moaned at the taste.

“Fuck” nat groaned.

“Seriously, fuck” you hummed, eating the rest of it, going to grab another but Wanda swatted your hand away.

“They’re for the dinner party, I want everything to be perfect” she said with pride, she heads back into the kitchen, the place smelling like her cooking.

You can’t help but follow after her, like a lost puppy, Nat goes with you too, her hand grabbing yours as she always wants to touch you, you find it cute how much she’s opened up since the first time you had met her, she didn’t allow anyone to touch her for the longest time, but you and wanda were an exception.

The two of you made her feel safe, and loved.

Which was all too new for her.

Natasha goes by Wanda’s side, kissing her on the cheek, laughing at something Wanda said as you watch them, admiring them both, your heart was so full, because of them. You wouldn’t know what life was like without them. The two blondes that stole your heart the second you first saw them.

Wanda blushed as Natasha whispered into her ear teasingly, you pouted, feeling left out.

They noticed by how quiet you were (not on purpose) as they smiled softly, pulling you in closer to them, kissing your cheeks and forehead and lips.

“I love you, my girls” nat said softly, kissing you both as she wrapped her arms around you and Wanda.

“I love you more” you and Wanda say at the same time, causing nat to laugh.

Wanda joined with her, causing you too, this was everything you needed and wanted, the sound of their laughs, was like heaven.

Everything felt perfect.

#wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #stuff i wrote

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imbored1201 · 4 months

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hi! would you be able to do a teen reader x barca/arsenal (or like an individual) where they spend christmas alone without anyone knowing until they comeback, and when people realise they make it up to reader?

thanks! (and happy christmas and new years)

Mapi’s Huge Surprise

Warnings: Neglectful parents

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word Count: 1,383

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone!

You looked at the time, 11:55 pm. About to be Christmas Day. You sighed, getting up from where you laid, to eat the rest of that gingerbread house that you built.

You hated and loved Christmas. You loved the lights and how joyful the people got, but you hated how alone you felt every year. Your parents had never acknowledged it, but they let you walk around the neighborhood to see the lights while they partied at some coworkers place.

Now that you were far from them, you wanted to do something big, but then you realized you didn't have any friends outside of the team, and the whole team were busy with their families.

You were completely alone again. When midnight hit, you decided to watch some classic Christmas movies.

—————

New Years was the same; you had also drank some wine, hoping Alexia wouldn't notice, but overall, you just enjoyed watching all your teammates stories to see what they were up to.

Your parents had called you, wishing you a great holiday and hoping it went well for you. You just asked them what they did, and as usual, they went to a party, not bothering to ask what you did for Christmas or New Years or if you would even visit them.

—————

When Alexia came back home, you were excited and clingy. You wanted to watch a bunch of Christmas movies with her. She found it cute and agreed; even though Christmas was a week ago, she even brought up the idea to make Christmas cookies.

It was probably the happiest Alexia had ever seen you. Apart from the mess, it was a fun day. A day you hated to see end, but at least you finally got to experience a Christmas tradition with someone that you knew cared about you.

—————

"So, what you do for Christmas?" Lucy asked as she bumped your shoulder. "Nothing," you shrugged, drinking some of your water. Lucy frowned at that.

"What do you mean nothing?" She asked, grabbing the water bottle from you. "I didn't do anything Lucy. I just stayed home and watched movies."

"You didn’t see your parents?" She pushed more. "Come on ladies!" Jona yelled at you guys. You quickly jogged to where the other girls were for sprints.

————

When training was over, as usual, you were the last one out the locker room, taking your sweet time. Alexia waited for you patiently, knowing if she rushed you, it wouldn't be a fun car ride for either of you.

You had lied to Alexia about your parents coming to Barcelona, telling her that they were getting a rental where you guys would stay and that they would leave after New Year's Eve. Alexia was going to her mama's house, so you weren’t worried about getting caught lying. You felt bad for lying, but you didn't want her worrying about you.

You noticed her expression, like she was thinking hard about something. "You okay?" You asked her, packing your bag. She nodded.

"We have to talk." "Did I do something? I swear, I've been on top of my work, so if my teachers told you something again, they're lying," she shook her head.

"I know you're doing good in school; your teachers have been praising you a lot lately." You smiled and followed her out to the car. She wanted to press you, but she also didn't want any awkwardness during the car ride, so she waited until you guys got home.

—————

Right when you got into the door, you tried to hurry to your room, knowing an awkward conversation was about to happen. Of course, it didn't work out.

"How was Christmas with your parents?" You froze. "Good." She looked at you, and you knew from that look that she knew you were lying.

"Don't lie to me," you winced at her tone. "Were you here alone?" You knew you couldn't lie yourself out of this one; you nodded at her question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, "I didn't want to be a bother." "You're never a bother Bebe. My mama loves you, you're practically another daughter to her." Alexia pulled you into a hug.

"It's okay Alexia, I'm used to being alone on holidays, we never do anything anyway," she shook her head. "Next time you're coming with me, okay?" You nodded, and she kissed your forehead and let you go to your room.

—————

All you wanted to do was sleep; you were a teenager, so of course it was your top priority. You groaned and shoved whoever was on top of you. You heard them laugh and smack your cheeks a bit.

You finally opened your eyes and saw Patri and Claudia with mischievous smiles. "What are you doing here?" You mumbled sleepily, closing your eyes once again. "Alexia sent us here to wake you; we have a surprise," Pina said excitedly.

"I'm too tired to get up," you told them, shoving Patri again. You felt her get off you; you got happy, thinking they would leave you alone, but of course, with this team, you would never get your way.

"Hey!" You yelled as Pina grabbed your legs and dragged you off your bed. A huge thud sounded through the apartment as you fell. Patri quickly grabbed your arms, and they lifted you up. You tried wiggling away, but it was no use. You gave up and let them carry you.

They set you on the floor in the middle of the living room, and there you saw all of your teammates crowded around the front door and the couch.

"Alexia they hurt me," you whined to her. "I told you guys to get her out of bed nicely for once," Alexia scolded them. "She wouldn't get up," Patri defended, and Pina nodded along.

"You didn't tell me we were going to have a team bonding night," you looked at Alexia offended that she didn't warn you. "It wasn't planned,” Mapi told you.

"We got these for you" Frido told you, and you looked around and realized they all had gifts. "For what?" "What do you mean for what? For Christmas kid" Lucy told you as she threw her gift at you.

You looked at her suspiciously, "go on, open it" She was way more excited than you. "New headphones!" You said excitedly, "Because you broke your other ones and cried about it the whole bus ride," she said.

Aitana was about to give you hers but got shoved out of the way by Mapi. "Trust me, when you see mine, you won't want the other ones." Everyone rolled their eyes at Mapi.

She grabbed you, and put her hands over your eyes, and led you outside. "Alexia!" You shouted, scared Mapi would pull some dumb prank on you. "I'm right here bebe" she reassured you, giving Mapi a look of confusion.

"What did you do Mapi?" Alexia told her, seeing what she got you, but Mapi just smirked. She finally let you see, and your jaw dropped. "Holy shit" you cursed. Alexia was also too shocked to even tell you off for your language.

A dirt bike.

"No" Alexia told Mapi sternly. "Yes" Mapi said back. "I love you!" you shouted and tackled Mapi into a hug.

"We can go to a trail this weekend; I have a buddy that will teach you; we just have to get you gear" she smirked and turned to Ingrid, who handed you a box.

Your smile got bigger when you saw there was all the gear you needed. Ingrid noticed Alexia's glare. "I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is when she's set on something."

"Come on Alexia. Look at that smile." Mapi points to you, all happy on your dirt bike, showing it off to Patri and Pina.

"If she gets hurt-" "she won't; trust me, in a week she'll be wanting to be competing" Alexia sighed, but let it be; there was no changing Mapi's mind, and you already seemed attached to the bike.

—————

Mapi was right though; you were only paying attention to the bike all day. Completely forgetting you had everyone else lined up to give you their gifts. It was truly a Christmas you would never forget.

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #mapi leon #ingrid engen #alexia putellas

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vioyume · 4 months

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(Edit: Thanks to the people who informed me on what Leif's species is!)

Sat down and got to finally properly render these fuckers while also settling on how I should draw them. I actually did a tiny bit of research on their respective species, took a few elements here and there but nothing to drastically change them.

So as far as I'm aware, Leif is not a specific moth but plenty of blue and red moths will usually have the eye patterns on their wings and as well as have fluff on their bodies. Had fun with the posing and if you can guess where I referenced it then you get a cookie. Thought it was neat that the original concept was that he was suppose to dance.

Vi is obviously a honey bee, they're very well known to be fuzzy. I don't have much to say besides from that but if anyone doesn't know, only females have stingers.

Now Kabbu was really testing my patience, according to the wiki it states that is he is a rainbow scarab beetle. If that is wrong then too bad, those guys are gorgeous and it took me too long to figure how to balance the colors without burning my eyes. Its faint but noticeable, just so I can still be true to the game model, also I know it's not as visible here but I realize beetle wings are very pretty.

So what's the conclusion here? There needs to be a website dedicated to bug references so I can sit there and admire them all day.

#Fluctuating between bugs having 3-4 fingers sometimes even 2 but never 5 :)#Yeah anyone who follows me may noticed that I change my art style #Been in an art rut for the last few weeks and wanted to change things up #bug fables #bf leif #bf vi #bf kabbu #team snakemouth #vio.txt #vio.png

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spiceofvy · 4 months

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heey i love everything you write and ive been trying to come up with the courage to request this scenario:

scenario/reaction to their s/o fem9th member!reader playing the pepero game with other member or maybe be challenged to play w/ a guy from another group?

i just love the idea of them being jealous on camera and not being able to act cool at all

SKZ - Jealous SKZ on a show

a/n: thank you so much for reqeuesting!!! please don't be nervous about sending me asks, i swear i'm nice :,) i was also really wanting to write some 9th member!reader for some time, so i was really excited to write this!

cws: fem!9th member!reader, reader is the maknae, fluff, some jaelousy, non toxic jealousy, reader having to do the pepero challenge with a stranger, mentions of sexism (Jeongin)

Chan: So we all know that livestream where he was super mad at staff right? That is him at this moment. He is so angry. He is such a protective leader and this is the straw that breaks the camel's back. It started when your stylist put you into a way to short dress. Which hem you've been pulling down the whole time. And this game is the end of his patience. He won't intervene during the show, but afterwards he will do everything he can to make sure that all of SKZ never has to do something like this again. He feels terrible that it even got so far, and apologizes profusely to you later.

Minho: No. This is not happening. He won't let this happen. After the MC read out the challenge he just starts laughing obnoxiously loud and fake. Making everyone around him give him weird looks. "No but what is the task?" He asks and when the MC repeats it he interrupts them and asks that question again. He does that until everyone is uncomfortable enough to just skip the challenge. He will get a huge lecture from the manager later but he doesn't care. Climbs into your bed at night holding you tightly.

Changbin: He gets so whiny. Making a huge scene. "No! Not our poor innocent y/n!" He is super dramatic and hugs you tightly. He turns all the attention from you and your challenge to himself until everyone forgot about it. Afterward, he gets cuddly, clinging to you the whole time, grumbling about the MC and the stupid game. Wants some praise for protecting his baby so well, and keeping her away from weird dudes.

Hyunjin: Side eye. He is judging the MC. He is judging the member of the other group. He is judging the crew. He is judging his manager who let you do this. He coughs loudly when you play the game, making the other guy flinch, breaking the cookie early, preventing him from getting too close to you. Afterward, he is cuddly, touching you through the rest of the show. Scaring anyone off from making you do anything weird for the rest of the show.

Jisung: He also gets whiny. And pouty. And loud. "We can't have our Maknae's Innocence be tainted! Someone protect heeeeeeeer!" He makes such a big scene, including: fake crying, clinging to you, and holding you back from getting to your seat. Does this until the only thing that goes viral is him being a baby instead of you almost kissing some random dude. Will cuddle you afterwards. No matter if in public or not. Maybe if he is really anxious that day this could also lead to him getting a bit insecure. Please hold him that night, he needs it.

Felix: He is not a jealous person. He's fine with you hugging Seungmin, or even falling asleep cuddling Jisung. He loves how close the group is with each other, you are a big family. But he despises how this guy is suddenly getting close to you. Especially with all those cameras on you filming your interaction. Offers to do the challenge instead of you. Everyone thinks he is joking but he is so not. The video low key goes viral, so many edits afterward. But he takes all the scandalous articles, if that is what it means for you to be comfortable.

Seungmin: He is such a bitch. Not to you but the other guy. When you pull away he loudly declares "He must have really bad breath when y/n pulls away this early". He makes everyone on set laugh about that guy. Behind the scenes, he gives him dirty looks. He is more jealous than he would like to let on. He is also very clingy afterward. Unusually clingy actually. This will start some sort of scandal but he doesn't care, for him this was all worth it.

Jeongin: Won't react openly. Just smiles along and buries his fingers in his clothes. Trying to hide his anger. Stares at the game making sure that the other guy won't get too close to you. Won't be very reactive during the rest of the show, just a little bit more touchy with you. He will be so mad after it though, making a huge deal of the fact that "they only made her do it because she is the only girl. That's so sexist." Which is very right actually. He is super protective from now on, letting no stranger get too close to you. Huge cuddle session later in bed, holding you super tight, still bothered about the situation.

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

Text

Maniac

Yans (Nerd, Bully, Student Council) + Dismissive Creep Reader Blurb [G.N All]

Warning: Bullying, mentions of dead animals, violence, death

(An: Never been huge of the school setting but this came up while listening to a song with the same title. If you can guess it you get a cookie)

Creep Reader who's friends with the school punching bag. Saying they're acquaintanced is a bit of a stretch as nerd hangs out with them because nobody bothers them when they sit next to this freak and they dress their wounds, and Creep only tolerates them because they take pictures of every blossoming bruise and cut.

You never offer input in their one-sided conversations, scribbling away in that notebook of yours as they go insane rambling on about what their bullies did that day and how it feels everyone appears to be out to get them. All you ever do with anyone is watch, listen, and write. It's honestly like talking to a brick wall sometimes.... which is why they had no problem accepting the only good advice ever given to them.

"Y'know.... Even if I report this to the principal it wouldn't stop. They'll get suspended for a few days and when they come back - they'll probably just kill you. If you want this to stop, you need to find a new target for them."

A new target...There's only one person more of a freak than them.

"Y/n takes pictures of dead animals."

The rumor spread like wildfire. A tale spun by a sock puppet account and sprinkled throughout the halls. Really, even they weren't sure if the rumor was true or not, but with that camera and your track record it wasn't out of possibility. All eyes were immediately on you. Your phone number was leaked and the threats and queries poured in. People would point at carcasses on the road and make sure you were in earshot when they joked about hoping nobody was taking pictures. They went so far as to sneak a dead bird in your bag when you weren't looking and poured milk on your items when they couldn't find any. They stole your gym clothes, wrote foul things on your desk and locket - but none of them had ever touched you.

As expected, you had no reaction to this. That's the thing your "friend" had always been jealous of you for. So closed off from the world, from the pain it gives. With nobody slamming their head in the lockers anymore, people began to appreciate their talents and hobbies. They made friends. Real ones. They naturally started to drift away from you, but they always stopped when they saw you in the halls.

"Hey, Y/n.... How have you been?"

"Fine."

"None of this is bothering you?..."

"As long as they don't touch me - I'm fine."

All that's where you left the conversation - and your friendship. Your dismissal to it all lead many to give up after a few weeks, but one remained. The same blight on your friend's life since the start of school. Sure, your reactions were lackluster - but they knew they could break you. It was only a matter of time - and you had just given them the key.

"Hey - Freak!"

Your head bounces off the metal door as you're thrown into your locker.

"Can't touch you, huh? The fuck are you going to do about it?"

You rise to your feet, touching the wet spot at the back of your skull. "If we're going to do this, it's better we do it where nobody can see us."

"Ha? - don't want people to see you lose a few teeth? Fine, I got a big game in a few weeks and rather not get expelled before then."

"Sure."

Your former watches as you're lead behind the school. They should do something, call a teacher - but they're too afraid. The weight of the situation falls on them as you disappear from sight. You're going to get hurt and it's all their fault. Your bully cooks up all the things they plan on doing to you, cracking their knuckles and damn near salivating at the thought of seeing your stone face crumple. They're too preoccupied with their threats to notice you pulling something out of your pocket. Their foot falls off the concrete path and into the grassy terrain as they ready their fists, doubling over in pain as pain splits up their side. They vomit spittle and their own words as they look up, metal bars wrapped around your hands.

"what....the fuck."

"Get up."

Gritting their teeth, the bully drags themselves to their feet - back on their knees before they can stand as your fist barrels into their stomach. You grab both sides of their head and ram your knee into the facture scar on their nose. You're unrelenting even as they fall back on their ass, removing your metal knuckles and mounting them as you ball your fists. You weren't ready for a murder charge just let. Over and over, your balled hand cracks against their face and jaw - drawing red with each wet smack. You stop only to switch you your unbruised hand - their arms shooting up in defense.

"please...."

"..."

"stop...."

"Isn't that what people ask you?"

You climb off their battered body, lifting one leg under your arm. "I've studied people for a while. Writing scenarios where I could ruin lives is much better for all of us than actually doing it. I know things about you too... Your family paid off your younger brother's teacher so he got get into that nice college - and you have a full ride... If you can still use both legs."

Tears prick their eyes. They fight to keep them in. This was their future you were playing with. "I'm sorry! I won't hurt anyone again I promise!"

Your grip tightens "I don't care about everyone."

"I won't mess with you anymore!"

They flinch as you drop their leg. "Good." Waking over to your discarded backpack, you retrieve your med kit and camera - dropping down beside them as you remove the lense.

"Smile."

Their eyes burn as the camera flash goes off. You set the camera aside as you open the kit and pull out an alcohol swab - pinning them to the ground as you apply it to their split cheek.

"Ow! The fuck are you doing now?"

"Quiet."

"Get the fuck off me!"

"You have a game in a few weeks, don't you? I don't think I broke anything, but you probably don't want the other team to see you with bruises."

The following Monday, your bully greets you all smiles and pleasant as if you were the best of friends. They could do the exact same thing as you and study you like an animal in a zoo to inact their revenge. Anyone who still picked on you quickly turned on their heels when they saw you with their click. They bragged while you were away about how they planned to tear your life to shreds so hard the damage would last long after school. It was going to be the peak of their year -

"Drink this."

"An energy drink? If you wanted to posion me, you could've done it with something better."

"The seal is still intact. No amount of chapstick will fix your dry lips, because you're dehydrated. An athlete should know better than that."

Their fingers instinctly fly to their lips. How did you?.... You did say you had been watching. They didn't know nor understand the full reach of your knowledge until they got a happy birthday message from an unknown number and a speaker ended up in a pool when they were urged to jump in. They had a fear of water since adolescence after nearly drowning at a lake. You never took charge for this acts and mostly blended into the crowd when they happened. You picked up your old hobby of patching their injuries and taking photos as payment. Why were you doing so much for someone who wanted to make you suffer?

"We're friends.... aren't we?"

Huh?

"Besides, if I stick with you, I don't have to look up gore sites anymore - or take pictures of dead animals."

You're such a fucking freak. A freak - that was starting to grow on them.

You became the person they'd look for first during school - when they needed a shoulder to cry on. You rarely offered comfort, but a pat on the shoulders was good enough for them. Their hand would find your shoulder or waist so frequently that rumors began spreading that you were dating - until people found out every touch was met with a light punch to their bruised ribs. They'd just laugh it off and apologize before doing it again an hour later.

Your former friend was having the time of their life - for a while. Something felt... artificial about their new friends. They had a good time at school and when they got together on weekends, but nobody was there for them at any other time. No one to vent to or wish them happy birthday exactly when it turned midnight - like you used you. They missed you. More than anything.

"Hey - give me Y/n's number."

Been a while since they've been in this scenario. Why was your shared bully asking them for your number?

"H-huh? Why?...."

"I had to get a new phone and can't remember the last digits. Stop asking questions and give it to me."

"Okay!"

The bully snatches their phone and punches the number into theirs - eyes softening as the line connects. "Y/n..... What? Of course it's me. I got a new phone. Anyway, I got tickets to that one movie that's coming out this week - the one that got pushed back because the prop knife turned out to be real? You coming or not?... Good."

Your former friend catches their phone as it's tossed back to them - watching their bully walk away with the flush of a middle schooler confessing to their crush. They hadn't been hit at all during the altercation, but their chest hurt hearing your voice after so long away from you - even faintly.

They find you the next day at the top of the roof. It was your favorite hiding place, and the only one your bully hadn't found yet. They sit quietly beside you.

"How have you been?..."

"Fine..."

They purse their lips together. "What...did you do to make them stop?"

"Put them in their place."

"What do you mean by that?"

You point your camera at the passing crowd. "At our age, people only have as much power as you give them. If you stand your ground they'll typically back down, and if they don't - you beat the to a pulp and ruin their families lives."

Your friend can't stop the tears from flowing. You had always been the strong one, that they knew - but how could you handle things so easily? How could they betray you like that? Their only companion in this world - thrown to the wolves when you should've been their for each other.

"It was you wasn't it?"

You stand up.

"Stay away from me."

They reach out to grab you - mend the tattered strings of your friendship. "Don't leave me. I did it, okay? I did it, and I'm so so sorry. Y/n, please forgive me - I couldn't take it anymore. I'd go back to the way things were if it meant you were still with me. Please, Y/n, I'm in lo-"

Their vision blanks, speckles of blood littering the ground floor from their split lip. You lower your hand back down to your camera.

"Don't lie to me. Or yourself like that."

It hurts... Everything hurts.... Still, they smile - showing you the bloodied whites of their teeth.

""ahhh.... Y/n, I'm... I'm bleeding. Don't you want to take a picture of me? Aren't I still beautiful to you? Aren't I good enough?"

You don't grace them with a reply, walking off as they curl into themself. It hurts - their mouth is numb, but it hurts all over. Please, come back. Let them their their head on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Y/n... Please.

"I'm sorry...."

"But are you really though?"

They cover their ears with their hands. Shut up. Go away. If they'd done their job probably - none of these would've happened. The student council president. The worthless coward didn't even have the courage to come themself. Just another lackey doing their bidding.

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're so whiny. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I just wanted I break - I didn't mean to hurt them."

"Yea, yeah that's what your like always says. Misery sure does love company, though. I genuinely don't see what the prez likes about that fucking creep. They're wasting their time and blood for them."

Shut up. "Don't talking about Y/n like that?"

"But you had no problem with it when it was for benefit. What did you call them? A psychopath?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go....."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can't decide who'd I'd take more - the backstabber, or the maniac."

"SHUT UP!"

Walking down the steps to the first floor, you crash into someone skipping their way in the same direction.

"Ah - Y/n!" The student council president grins, picking up your fallen camera. "Good morning, good morning! And how are you doing ok this lovely day?"

"Fine."

"Faaaantastic." They point at their cheek sweeping blood on the shell of your camera. "As you can see here, I had a little bitty accident in my culinary class. I'm such a clutz, aren't I? If you give me one of those cute bandages, I'll take a picture of this cut and smile real pretty for ya!"

"Whatever." The president hums as you fish around in your bag, smiling big for their future spouse - deleting as many pictures as they can of others in that short time. If only they hadn't been out sick when the rumors spread. Then maybe you wouldn't be on that awful bully's arm and in theirs instead. They refused to let this little setback running your future together. After all, they were willing to bleed for you on their own Accord unlike everyone else in your album.

Unfortunately, they were upstaged once again - but their own council member too. They frown as the screams begin. They spit on the floor as blood splatters across the windows.

Couldn't go kill yourself somewhere else?

At the rooftop, panic takes flight. No no no... They didn't mean to do it. Their hands flew out before their brain could tell them no. The blood pools like a broken jug. A crowd surrounds the body. Nobody can see them from their place on the roof floor, but they can see everyone. A figure wearing a jacket that was once theirs, dyed with their blood and tears. The camera that hangs around that person's neck. The shutter of the lense. They laugh - finally understanding what they had to do to get you back.

You really did like taking pictures of dead animals afterall....

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere nerd #yandere bully #yandere harem

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supernovafics · 4 months

Note

requesting for the ill be there for you universe! the kids are coming over so steve and r plan a lil dinner party… well they make the dinner together… and its just a little too domestic…. bonus if they end up dancing to some silly song on the radio because arent we all a sucker for dancing in the kitchen 😭😭😭😭😭 the kids walk in on them and are like 🤨🤨 those two need to get together now so baddddddddddd

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k words

warnings: explicit language

summary: in which a new year’s dinner at the apartment sparks a bet— that you and steve are completely unaware of— among the friend group

author's note: thank u for the request !! happy new year<33

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

Steve heard the knock on the door first; you were way too engrossed in singing along to the song that was loudly playing to notice the sound.

He maneuvered around you in the kitchen to go answer the door as you took a quick peek in the oven to check on the lasagnas.

It was your idea to have this “New Year’s dinner” at the apartment— since you and Steve had been sick during the holidays and couldn’t see anyone, this was to make up for that— and Steve agreed. Of course, Robin and Eddie said that they would come, and then the kids were an immediate yes as well.

Even though your and Steve’s collective cooking skills were not the best, you both still wanted to attempt and cook something for everyone, instead of simply ordering a couple of pizzas or takeout from some place. So, you got a lasagna recipe from Miss Johnson that she promised was very basic and couldn’t really be messed up; and so far, she’d been right. Although you did initially have to remake the sauce because of a mess up that you fully blamed on Steve and he fully blamed on you. But, after that, everything else luckily went fine.

When Steve opened the door and you looked over to see everyone bounding into the apartment, it was then that you remembered just how big the friend group was— you could only imagine what that elevator ride up to the apartment had been like.

“Is this The Breakfast Club soundtrack?” Robin asked, laughing as she slipped off her coat.

“Yes,” Steve answered. “This is what I’ve been subjected to for the past week.”

You immediately rolled your eyes at his words, which you somehow managed to hear over the loud music. “Oh, shut up, you were just singing along to the last song with me.”

“There’s only some truth to that,” He said as he walked over to the record player to turn the music down a bit.

Everyone settled at the dining table that Steve’s mom bought for you two for the Thanksgiving dinner that you’d been forced to have here with your parents— that was still somehow a memory that lingered harshly in the back of your mind, like most interactions with your parents did. The table was only meant to fit six people, so the desk chairs that normally sat in your bedrooms were pulled out and placed at the table, and then two foldable chairs were borrowed from your other next door neighbor; this guy in his mid-sixties who would have weekly poker nights with his friends. You would continuously joke around with Steve and tell him that he should join in on the poker nights. In response, he’d always simply roll his eyes at you because you knew that he was bad at poker and he’d also rather not spend his Tuesday nights with random old men.

Mike walked over to you and handed you a tupperware full of what you could tell were gingerbread cookies. “Since you missed the Christmas party, my mom wanted me to give these to you.”

You immediately smiled. “Holy shit, God bless that woman. Please tell her I said thank you.”

He nodded at that and then went over to the table, sitting down next to El.

Steve went back over to where you were in the kitchen and started reaching for the tupperware, but you immediately shooed his hand away. When he simply pouted at you, you rolled your eyes and then opened it so that he could grab a cookie, which he did and then broke it in half so that he could give a piece of it to you.

“Is it just me or have they been acting extra old married couple lately?” Dustin asked, looking away from the interaction that just happened.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Max answered almost immediately and pretty much everyone else simply nodded in agreement.

Neither you nor Steve were paying any attention to the conversation that was currently taking place barely ten feet away from you; instead you both were focused on finishing up the food. You were pulling one of the lasagnas out of the oven and Steve was grabbing the other before putting the store bought garlic bread in the oven— you both had figured that if the lasagna did end up turning out bad, there would at least be bread that neither of you had a hand in making to somewhat save the day.

“I fully believe that this will be the year that they finally get together,” Lucas said, sounding very certain.

Robin shook her head at that. “No way. If they were gonna date, it would’ve happened already. Years ago, probably.”

She thought back to this past Halloween where you and Steve were dressed up in your Batman and Robin costume, and at some point during the night he ended up giving you a piggyback ride while you all were walking to some party, and she and Vickie were trailing a bit behind the two of you. She thought about how certain she had felt when answering Vickie’s question about if you two had ever dated. “They seem like they’d be perfect together, but I also think the world would implode if they ever tried something.” For the most part, that still felt entirely true. Even though it would’ve made complete sense if something happened, it still didn’t seem necessarily “possible” at this point— it felt like such a far-fetched idea.

“I’m gonna have to agree with Rob on this one. I don’t think they’ll ever actually get together,” Eddie said and then started laughing a bit as he said his next words. “Or it’ll happen twenty years down the road after they’ve both been married to other people and then divorced, and then they’ll finally realize that all they needed and wanted was each other.”

“Wow, that sounds like the most depressing movie ever,” Will told him.

“I guess it wouldn’t be that sad since they would end up together in the end,” El said with a small shrug.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe that could happen, but I don’t think it would take that long anymore because things are so different now,” Dustin said. “They’re living together, they have a child together.” He gestured to Harold the Hamster’s cage that sat on the coffee table in the living room. “They’re practically already a couple. It’s inevitable now. Soon they’ll be married and there will be actual children involved, not just Harold.”

Robin rolled her eyes at his final statement. “They’re best friends. They’ve known each for like ten years.”

“Yeah, which is just another reason why they’re definitely gonna end up together,” Lucas said. “Also, I can’t even remember the last time either of them went on a date, and Steve usually always talks about his dates.”

“Actually, he was just going out with that girl last month,” Will chimed in. “Vanessa or something?”

“And that ultimately led nowhere,” Max reminded him.

Mike took a brief look over at you and Steve to make sure that you two still weren’t listening to the current conversation. “Okay, I have an idea. We should make this a bet. We each say when we think they’ll get together, and if it does end up happening we all give whoever got it right or was the closest five bucks.”

Eddie laughed before nodding. “I actually kind of like that idea.”

“It’s a great idea,” Dustin said with a nod, and it didn’t necessarily surprise anyone when he pulled out a small notebook and pen out of his pocket because it somehow made sense that he would be the one to bring a notebook and pen to a dinner party; he was probably prepared for anything.

He started off by saying February– because even though it was only a month away, it was in fact, the month of love— and then everyone started going around the table saying their guesses. Lucas said April, Max and El both said March, Mike said July, Will said August, Robin said a very certain “Never,” and Eddie finished by saying a playful and only slightly serious, “Twenty years.”

It was almost comical how oblivious you and Steve were to what was happening not that far away from you both. Instead, your attention was on grabbing enough silverware for everyone since the plates were already set on the table and Steve was pulling out some cups.

“I think both of our moms would scold us for not setting everything out before they came,” You told Steve, laughing a bit.

“Very true. I guess our years of being forced to eat at fancy restaurants with them have truly taught us nothing,” He joked back and you smiled at that as you both walked over to the dining table. “We’re gonna bring over the lasagna in a second. What are you guys talking about?”

“Nothing,” Eddie said casually as Dustin slipped his notebook back into his pocket, which was a subtle action that neither of you noticed. “Just some movie.”

Once everything was set on the table, you two went back to the kitchen to grab the lasagnas.

“The bread will be done in a couple minutes, so if the lasagna sucks we’ll eat that,” You said as you sat down in one of the two empty chairs left, which just so happened to be your desk chair. “Also, if it sucks, blame Steve, not me.”

He shook his head as he rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side before taking a seat in the other empty chair on the opposite side of the table. “If it sucks, blame both of us because this was a very mutual effort.”

Robin nodded. “Okay, got it. If this turns out to be the worst meal all of us have ever eaten we’ll make sure to hate both of you equally and not talk to either of you for at least a week.”

Luckily, the lasagna actually turned out pretty great.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington series #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things series #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut

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ddejavvu · 11 months

Note

i blame you so much for my sudden poly!marauders obsession lolol i genuinely cant find anyone who writes them as good as you do!

but imagine like lily asking fuck marry kill out of the three of them, and you give the obvious “marry all of them” but they keep pressing you for your answer even though they know one of them is gonna get hurt (even if you said a name on purpose as a joke lmao) bonus points if one of them is being so dramatic and just fr lies on the floor pretending to be dead for the rest of the day and being all sulky.

I'm so glad you like the way that I write them!

"I'm not choosing," You shake your head, jaw clenched resolutely, "I'd like to marry them all."

"And fuck," Sirius boasts, "'Not gonna get a murder out of her, Lils."

"She's gotta choose," Remus presses, and you've got half a mind to kill him just for the suggestion, "Come on, darling, we won't be upset. S'just a game."

"Fuck," You pause, glancing fearfully between your three partners. Your eyes drop to Sirius's hands, veiny and ringed, and you breathe out, "Sirius. 'Cause- 'cause his hands look nice like that."

"Knew I'd be safe," He brags, blowing you a kiss with the aforementioned handsome hands.

"And marry," You trail off again, looking between James and Remus. Remus is far more nonchalant than James is, looking like he really wouldn't mind if you decided he'd need to perish for a party game. But it's still not fair, and you're terrified of hurting his feelings without knowing just because he put up a front.

"James," You glance fearfully over at the curly-headed boy, who looks elated until he realizes you have more to say, "Last week. You ate the cookie I was saving."

His eyes widen in fear, an endearing shade of sweet brown as he shakes his head. His curls fly and he clasps his hands together in a cartoonish display of begging, "No! No, sweetheart, I'm sorry! Don't do this," He begs, sprawling out over the floor on his belly so that he can stare imploringly up at you from below, "Please, maybe- maybe if we kiss you can still taste it! And I'll make you a dozen more," He tries, grief-stricken at your verdict.

"Tough break," Remus claps James on the back of the thigh, then smooths a soothing touch up his back, "'S okay Prongs, I'd bring flowers to your grave every day, y'know?"

"Better luck next time," Sirius drawls, seeming all too interested in James's current ass-up position - there's a reason you chose him for 'Fuck'.

"I'm sorry, Jamie." You lament, and the man lets himself go limp, eyes fluttering shut and tongue falling out of his mouth in a very dramatic impression of death. You nudge your nose between his curls, bury a kiss on his scalp, and whisper in his ear while you're down there, "I'd like to fuck and marry you too, dear."

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putellas14 · 4 months

Text

Home for the Holidays (Alexia Putellas x Reader ficlet)

18. "cancelling all other plans so they can spend the entire holidays together."

Hope you don't hate me for being a few weeks late. This one's not the best but covid really took me out. Merry Christmas, dear friends. I hope 2024 is full of magic for you all.

"Are you excited to go visit your family for Christmas?" Lola asked you at the end of the last training before Christmas. This was your third year in Madrid and every Christmas, you left Spain to visit your family in Denmark. You usually looked forward to the time with them since you didn't get to go home often.

"Yeah!" you lied. "We're going to make cookies like we do every year and I've been on a crafting kick, so I made a bunch of pinterest-y crafts to give them." You hadn't told anyone but you were dreading going home this year. Not because you didn't love your family but because you didn't want to leave Alexia alone. Her mom and sister had gone on a vacation for a week to Japan and due to a volcanic eruption, they had gotten stuck there. So far, there was no news on whether they'd make it back this weekend for Christmas.

Not that anyone knew you and Alexia were dating. That you wanted to throw your traditions to the wind and start building new ones with Alexia.

"When do you leave?"

"In the morning. I have the first flight out at 6am."

"That's too early," Lola said, fake shuddering. "Merry Christmas, Y/N," she said, picking up her bags. "I hope you have a great time."

"Thanks, Lol. Merry Christmas." You smiled warmly at her as she walked away. You finished packing your bag and walked out to the parking lot. On the drive back to your apartment, you tried calling Alexia. They had finished training for two weeks yesterday and had a team Christmas party tonight. It surprised you to get her voicemail. Hanging up, you sighed, hoping she was alright. She loved Christmas normally and you knew it was incredibly hard for her to be without her family.

Once you were home, you turned on all the Christmas lights you'd put up. Bright colors and twinkly white lights illuminated your home, bringing a huge smile to your face. The Christmas tree in the corner was filled with the ugliest ornaments you could find. Garlands and tinsel were hung over every window. The older you got, the more time you spent away from home, the more you reveled in tacky Christmas décor.

An hour later, you were curled on the couch with a large bowl of soup, a cheesy Christmas movie on the television, and your puppy sprawled out next to you on the couch. As the couple on the screen slowly fell in love, your mind drifted to the woman you loved. And you started to plan. There was no way you could leave her alone at Christmastime. The thought of her alone dampened all your Christmas spirit.

The next morning, you packed up your bags and the puppy and made your way to the train station. When you should have been touching down in Copenhagen, you were stepping off the train in Barcelona. Although Zazu had only been to Barcelona once, he led you right to her apartment, tugging you along behind, anxious to see Alexia. You had a key to her apartment but this surprise felt worth knocking and waiting for her to open the door, so you kept it tucked away in the side pocket of your backpack.

She answered, a hoodie pulled down over her forehead, hair that had escaped her bun poking out around her face. The initial frown she had at being awoken broke into a smile and then tears.

"Oh, honey." You stepped into her and wrapped your arms tight around her. She burrowed her head into your shoulder, making her hood fall off. Zazu jumped onto both of your legs, barking in excitement.

"I needed you. And here you are," she whispered.

You brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead. "Come on. I'll make you some breakfast."

She hugged you from behind while you made food for both of you. Her arms tightened when you started pulling plates out of the cabinet. All you could do was giggle. Hungover Alexia was always so cuddly. Sad Ale was clingy. This Alexia was a combination of both of them.

“Are you going to let me go so we can sit at the table or do you want to sit on the couch?”

“Couch,” she mumbled.

"Carry this for me," you said, handing her one of the plates. You picked up the empty plate and took her free hand in yours for the short walk to the couch. Zazu had made himself comfortable on one end. His tail wagged excitedly when you walked closer to him. Skirting the coffee table, you put your plate down and then took Alexia's to set down. Sitting, you pulled her down next to you, letting your thigh rest against hers. Picking up her plate, you handed it to her. "Here you go, babe," you said gently.

You ate in silence, enjoying each other's presence after all these weeks apart. After breakfast, you both took a lazy shower. You washed her hair for her and let your hands wander. She told you she was beginning to feel half human by the time you got dressed. She asked to go for a walk with Zazu and you gladly agreed. After sitting on the train all morning, you needed some fresh air and exercise.

As you walked down the street towards Alexia's favorite coffee shop, you looped your arm through hers. Barcelona at Christmastime was a magic and you felt like you were walking in a dream. Zazu tugged excitedly at the leash even though he didn’t know where you were going. Multiple times, Alexia had to tug the leash to bring him back to the correct direction.

You took your coffees to the park, so Zazu could run freely for a bit. You cuddled up next to Alexia on the bench. The wind had picked up and you hadn't worn enough layers. She took her hat off and pulled it down over your ears.

"Thank you." You'd also made the mistake of getting an iced coffee. But when he said their special was an iced cardamom lavender latte, you couldn't resist it. It was also so good that you couldn't stop drinking it, despite how cold you were.

"So, what time do you leave for home?" she asked suddenly.

"I have a flight this evening." You traced small patterns on her arm.

"Today?" she asked sadly. "That's so soon."

"I know. I know. My mom was very annoyed that I pushed it even that long."

"Well, I'm really glad you were able to make this pitstop." She kissed your cheek, letting her lips linger a second longer than she should have in public. "I hated the idea of being alone."

"I hated the idea of you being alone too. Which is why I booked two tickets from here to Copenhagen. If I have to go home, you're coming with me."

"What?" she asked, sitting back in shock.

"Come with me," you said, taking her hand in yours. "I want to show you my life in Copenhagen. I want to wake up with you on Christmas morning."

"You're adorable." Throwing her arms around, she pulled you close. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Merry Christmas, Ale." Before putting your arms around her, you let your fingers dance over the little velvet box in your pocket. Christmas in Copenhagen wasn't the only surprise waiting for Alexia this year.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #ficlet #woso imagine #alexia putellas

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midnightcrw · 4 months

Note

What about Simon and the 141 boys meeting Daisy's new boyfriend? How would that go?

New Boyfriend

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Summary: Simon and the TF141 meet Daisy's (Simon's daughter) new boyfriend.

a/n: Sorry for taking so long to write this, I just had a tiring day, but at least I'll be able to write more now.

"I don't like him," Simon declared, glaring at Daisy's new boyfriend as if he'd just kicked a puppy.

"Oh, come on. You just met him today." You tried to convince him that her boyfriend, Noah, wasn't that bad. At least from what you had seen so far.

While the two of you were in the kitchen, Soap, Price and Gaz were sitting in the living room, arms crossed as they examined Daisy and Noah sitting next to each other.

Noah looked nervous, you could almost see him sweating from a distance as you held Simon back.

Since Daisy's last boyfriend, Simon didn't want her to get close to anyone again, fearing that she would get her heart broken like the last time.

"Why are they here, anyway?" You raised an eyebrow in confusion, not knowing why Soap, Price and Gaz had come to your house without informing you beforehand.

Your husband's eyes didn't even leave Noah's as he replied. "I invited them."

"I'm not helping you bury a body."

"That's why they're here."

"Simon!" You yelled at him in a whisper as you slapped his arm. Not even knowing if he meant it or not.

While you were quietly arguing with him, Price was having a interrogation conversation with Noah. "What are your intentions with her?"

Noah's hands were visibly shaking as Daisy tried to calm him down by putting her hand in his, "No touching in this religious household!" Price warned in a gruff voice, causing Daisy to immediately remove her hand from her boyfriend's.

"I-I just really like Daisy and want to make her happy..." Noah muttered, his face growing paler by the second as Soap rolled his eyes and Gaz cleared his throat to speak.

"How much money have you got?"

"Uncle!"

"I'm only asking the important questions!" Gaz defended himself as Soap and Price nodded in agreement. All of them looking sternly at Noah.

"But that's not even important!" Daisy tried to interject.

"You'll know what's important once you have to pay taxes! Economy has been wild!" Gaz didn't even try to be gentle with her.

Before an argument could break out between the two, you and Simon sat down after you smacked your husband on the back of his head and said you didn't want to go to jail just yet.

The moment Noah saw Simon, his eyes widened in fear as he bit his lower lip, almost drawing blood from it.

The silence was uncomfortable as you all waited for someone to speak, and before anyone tried to say something wrong, you spoke up.

"It's great to finally meet you. Daisy's been talking about you a lot," you smiled at him as you saw Daisy blush.

With that, Noah seemed to relax a little, "Oh, that's good to know," he became quieter, staring at Simon with fear in his eyes.

Frowning, you looked at Simon, seeing him with a knife in his hands, obviously trying to intimidate and scare Daisy's boyfriend away.

"Put the knife away!" You whispered, but his eyes were still fixed on Noah.

Seeing his reluctance, you put your hand over his which was holding the hilt tightly and slowly pushed it down, hiding the knife away from Daisy's sight, as she and Gaz were having a staring contest.

"It was so good to have you over," you said, and before you realized it, Noah was out of your sight. He was probably sprinting to his house in fear of your husband and the TF141.

"I can't believe you asked him that!?" Daisy's shouting voice could be heard throughout the house.

"I just don't want you to end up poor! Be grateful you insolent child!" Gaz shouted back as Soap watched the two of them eating the cookies you had left on the coffee table.

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Text

I’LL MAKE THIS FEEL LIKE HOME

cw: nsfw, 18+. minors and ageless blogs will be blocked for interacting. wc 6k. todoroki fam lore. bnha manga + s6 spoilers. angst and fluff and smut and love and

“Do you feel held by him? Does he feel like home to you?”

- Midsommar (2019)

Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home.

And while it never fit the traditional cookie-cutter feeling of a home before then, it was comforting in its own kind of way. It was definite, something that he could hold onto and strive towards. Something that was there at the end of the day, no matter how badly his hands burned or how quiet the dinner table was.

Because before Shouto was born, there was still a chance.

Fuyumi and Natsuo were just as much of failures as he was—it was anyone's game. He could keep pushing, train his hand to defy the science of his body and deal with it. Become what his father wanted so badly he’d kill for. That was home, the knowledge that there was still a chance for him.

But the moment Shouto was born, hair perfectly split the same as his flawlessly cursed body, Touya knew.

Instantly, he knew that his time was over—that there was no saving his dream of making his father proud. He hadn’t been enough, and he would have to live with that, in a house that's no home with a family that lives in the shadow of what he never got to be.

He carries that feeling everywhere he goes. Like an eternal kink in his neck, it weighs heavy on his shoulders and disintegrates the marrow of his bones. Forever the boy without a home, Dabi continues to do what he does best—or maybe worst—and he survives.

But, you don’t remember when Dabi became home to you.

Well, that's not entirely true. Like all other things, you suppose it happened slowly, then all at once.

You remember meeting him when you shouldn’t have. Recognizing his appearance from the local news, you remember the heavy feeling in your chest, like a child who was caught doing something wrong. The fear, the confusion. The part of you that wanted to help, the other than wanted to run.

But you don’t remember how fast it all happened.

Sewing his wounds and scrubbing his blood from your floor. Letting him sneak in to hide out, and waking up to an empty bed. You don’t remember the days bleeding into nights, but you could never forget the way his skin felt against yours.

You remember the impact, but the falling is all a blur. The stranger sleeping on your couch who has now read all of the books on your bedside table. The one who hissed and snarled for you to stay away, now crawls home to you on his knees.

One day he wasn't, and the very next day, he was.

You think that’s enough for you, but Dabi knows it’s too much for him.

…

The sound of your window creakily opening no longer scares you in the middle of the night. If anything, it brings you a sick sense of comfort.

Dabi slides through your living room balcony with ease, far too familiar with the routine of navigating your apartment in the dark. It does the job for him—keeps him out of the cold, gives him a bed to sleep in, a roof over his head. He finds that he enjoys the perks of your shitty building complex.

Oh, and you're there, too. But, he swears that has nothing to do with the magnetic urge that keeps pulling him back to the fire escape on the fourth floor that remains unlocked.

He opens your cabinets in search of something, anything, to fill his stomach in the slightest. He’s thin, almost alarmingly so, if you didn't know him—didn’t know his body is constantly working against him, eagerly taking the destruction he so carelessly puts it through.

Your sudden voice doesn't scare him. He doesn't so much as flinch at your clear tone in the silence of your home.

“Cremation.”

He briefly looks at you over his shoulder, humorously expressionless, before turning his back to you and rummaging through the cabinet again.

“Gesundheit,” he scoffs.

“It’s what your name means,” you breathe, tone still devoid of any emotion he can detect—or deflect.

The realization burns him like his quirk, oddly painless but still alarmingly there. He holds his breath without realizing it, and its not until he coughs that he mindlessly exhales.

Dabi. Cremation.

True, he thinks. It’s no secret by any means, but he still finds his muscles tensing up as if you’d just said something you shouldn’t have.

He doesn’t let his facade falter as he plucks a box of saltines from your cabinet. “Doesn't take a genius to do a basic translate search.”

“It’s not your real name,” you state, addressing the elephant infiltrating the room.

And at this, he fully turns to you. You stand in the entryway of the dark kitchen, arms crossed and eyes filled with sleep (or lack thereof, Dabi isn't sure he can tell the difference just yet).

You're not angry. No, he's seen you angry before. This is different, harder. It's almost stoic. And while Dabi can’t put his finger on the exact feeling of the pit in his stomach, he knows he doesn’t like it.

He sticks his hand in the cardboard box before plucking a cracker and plopping the snack in his mouth. The salt burns the cuts on his lips when he sarcastically speaks, “You’re on fire with the observations today.”

He watches you shrug, expression still void of any true indication of whatever your heart is feeling. The only light in the tiny apartment comes from the stove behind him. He can just make out your silhouette and barely your face through hardened focus and adjusting eyes.

He thinks he’s grateful for that. He doesn’t want to see the details of your dissapointment when you see the real him.

“Figured it was a bit too coincidental,” you rest against the doorframe. Dabi takes it as a good sign, you're not stiff.

“Quirks don’t even manifest until a few years after birth, unless you were unnamed for the first five years of your life.”

Should’ve been, he bitterly thinks. Things would've been easier that way.

He bites his tongue.

The only sound that can be heard is the crunching of his teeth against the cracker he gnaws on. After a moment, he offers you one. You don’t move a muscle at his extended hand. He lets it sink back slowly, defeated, as he clears his throat.

“It fits, doesn't it?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one he doesn’t actually expect you to answer. Because his name is all that’s known of him. Of course it should fit. Because when you look at him—his peeling and charred skin and hand that wields nothing but pain—it’s evident that all he can do is cremate.

His breath hitches when you speak up.

“To some, sure,” you decide.

With the way his chest tightens at your declaration, Dabi decides he doesn't like your tone.

He shields himself with his bark. “What’s that mean?”

“It means I want to call you something different,” you ache, but Dabi can read between the cracks you let falter. I deserve to call you something different, is what your heart bleeds onto the floor. I’m different.

He refuses to let that be the truth.

“Didn't think you’d be one for pet names, doll.” He tosses the half-eaten box back into your cabinet, lazily shutting the wood and wiping his crumby hands on his sleeves.

“I don’t see you how they see you,” your voice is stern now, he hears the determination in your shaky words. “I want to know your name.”

Your real one, the lines read once again. But in a split second, Dabi realizes he’s come too far to ruin whatever this is now.

“Fat chance in hell,” he dismisses, brushing your shoulder as he leaves the kitchen.

You’re quick to follow—as you always are, he’s begun to notice. You're like a mosquito constantly buzzing in his ear. No matter how many times he swats and repels, you come back stronger. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t hate it.

“Please.”

“No,” he’s even quicker to bore. “M’not dragging you into my shit.”

Too late, the voice in the back of his mind laughs. He’s always been his own worst enemy.

“There's more to you,” you continue to press, wanting something tangible, more from him. “You're not just what they make of you. You're a person, someone's son, someone’s–”

“Don't,” a balloon bursts behind his eyelids. His voice comes louder than ever before and it unsettles you, him, and the floorboards beneath your toes.

“Don't you ever...fucking say that again. You hear me?” With his finger in your face, Dabi shakes. He prays to whoever is listening that you see it as fury, and not what it truly is—fear.

And based on the tears flooding your eyes, he’d bet money he doesn't have that he’s right. In the silence of your home, you nod.

Dabi decides he’s had enough for one night, done enough to make you hate him just the right amount to forget about fixing him.

On the way out, Dabi mumbles something that sounds a lot like, “Say something stupid like that one more time and you'll never see me again.”

…

Dabi is exhausted.

His burner rings obnoxiously through the bedroom in the middle of the night.

You’ve begun to associate the loud melody with the feeling of a knife—the blade cruelly trickling its tip against your skin. Cold, sharp, barely applying enough pressure to make you hyperaware of its potential to rip everything you've ever known away from you with a mere movement forward.

You never know who’s on the other end of the line, and this time is no different. When the infamous sound sends a chill up your spine, Dabi answers it without a second thought. He wordlessly picks up, listens intently, and hangs up as quickly as it rang.

Then, he’s out of bed and putting his shoes on.

He knows you're not asleep, so there's no point in pretending to be when you crawl out of bed and follow him to the den of your home.

He grabs the remote, flicks the television on, and eagerly surfs the channels until he lands on the local news. Endeavor runs through the barren and obliterated streets of downtown, defending the city and fighting some… creature. You don't miss the way Dabi’s eyes don't blink whenever the hero is on screen.

He’s too focused, too emotional when it comes to him. It's unlike anything you've ever seen from him, and you're tired of pretending not to see the smothering fire in his eyes whenever the man is brought into discussion.

The reporter on the screen flips to another battle somewhere else in the city, with other heroes and other creatures and other things that should matter right now but for some reason don't. Because when Dabi finally takes his eyes off the screen to slip into his shoes, you spill.

“Why him?”

He harshly tightens the laces of his boot, “Huh?”

“Endeavor,” falls from your lips, and he nearly hisses at the sound of the name on your tongue. “Why him out of all heroes?”

He hesitates in the slightest. The average eye wouldn't have noticed his pause, but you know him. You see the way he clenches his jaw and fiddles with the staples sealing his chin.

He merely shrugs before tying his other lace, “He’s number one.”

“He wasn't always,” you contest, a bit too accusatory for his liking.

“Why does it matter?” Dabi bites. Bites the hand that feels him, shelters him, listens to him and chooses to remain quiet with what it knows. He bites the hand that loves him, and he almost regrets it when he sees your slight shock.

Almost.

His stomach churns as he watches you slightly falter before finding your footing once more. “It seems to matter to you.”

So it matters to me, your heart aches to drill into his rock-solid mind. His eyes feel hot on your skin as he shakes his head and stands from where he sits.

“He’s not a good guy, none of ‘em are.”

“How do you know?”

His grip on his coat tightens in frustration. “I have a ton of shit on him. He’s not the savior you think he is.”

“I don’t think he’s a savior,” you retort, and it comes out a bit childish, like a belief you wish to convince yourself of. “I don’t know him.”

“But you trust him,” Dabi is quick to jump, almost as if you've fallen right into his trap. He looks a bit wild, as if you’re prey in his hands, saying all the right things so sweetly just for him to do what a predator does and hunt. Sink his teeth into your flesh and ruin you for the thrill of it.

“Cause he’s the face of the fuckin’ country?” he coos with a venomously fake smile. “Cause he’s big and strong and always does the good thing, right?”

He’s trying to scare you, you know this—but you’ve never been scared of Dabi. Not when he’s tried to make you be, not when he’s done unspeakable things. He doesn’t scare you, but he’s upsetting you. He’s being mean, which isn't new to you but still rare enough to sting.

“I trust you,” your voice cracks, making his stomach churn with shame, “so if you don’t trust him, then I trust you have a good reason not to.”

Silence overtakes the room and Dabi’s chest burns with bile rising.

You trust him? On what grounds? What reason has he given you to just hand over your patience without a fight, without a reason?

Most importantly, if the thought of you trusting him makes him sick to his fucking stomach, then why does he find his lips moving before he can stop himself?

“He beats his kids.”

The television cuts to a commercial. A car drives by below, honking furiously at something or other. He says it casually, eyes looking away from yours.

Your voice is barely heard, “His kids?”

You didn't even know he had kids. Come to think of it, you knew of one boy. Fire and ice who attends the hero facility downtown that's always getting into trouble. Set to follow in his father's footsteps, according to the tabloids.

Dabi’s face doesn't falter at your surprise, immune to the violence he knows lives within his words. “Wife, too.”

The pieces don't add up in your mind. Dabi’s never been one for morals, not one for evening the tides and setting the universe straight when it comes to what's right and what's wrong. He does what he wants, he’s selfish. So why on earth would he care about a tragedy that doesn't involve him?

He interrupts your thoughts when he walks over to the front door. The sound of him fiddling with the lock makes your heart drop—because it means he’s leaving, and for how long, you never know.

“Doesn’t anymore, apparently, but he did for years,” he scoffs in disgust. “Claims he’s turned a new leaf. Wants to be father of the year, all of a sudden.��

Leaving before you can process any thoughts to convey into words, he sneaks through your door without a second thought.

“The good guys aren't actually good, y’know,” he warns as he leaves you.

You don’t see him for two weeks.

…

Dabi doesn't fuck you with caution.

It's the same every time. Rough, quick, desperate. You on your stomach and him towering behind you. He doesn't look at you or say much other than a grunt or curse here and there. Always pulls out, if he even cums, and always leaves right after, if not in the middle of the night.

But that doesn't mean it’s not good. Because fuck, it's great.

While short-lived and based on nothing but selfish, primal needs, it's a private moment of feeling nothing but him. His hands are everywhere and his teeth are never too far behind. His skin is on fire and his pace is nothing short of eager.

Your back is arched as your face is pressed to the mattress. You feel his cock throb as it swells against the insides of your walls with every rushed and eager thrust.

“Fuck, please,” he hears you breathily whine, and you feel his smirk against the skin of your back.

He uses your polite desperation to reward you, snap his hips extra hard and bury himself to the hilt of your cunt. He sits and burns inside of you, grip tight on your waist as he pulls you as close to him as he can without swallowing you whole.

His tip dances directly at the opening of your cervix, just barely brushing the overly tender spot with a feather-light prodding that somehow feels like too much and not enough. He lets himself continue to stretch you, to mold you, to enjoy the only thing he believes was made for him before he ruins it.

He feels you repeatedly clench around him as you mewl, “Please, more please.” You’re already completely spent when you plead, “Please, Dabi.”

And just like that, a switch is flipped inside of him.

His grip on your hips tightens, “Don’t.”

He goes to pull out of you completely, but your cry from his movement halts his hips. “Oh, nnnngh, Dabi—!”

In a whirl, you're flipped onto your back and met with a harsh gaze.

“Don’t,” he growls into your throat, “call me that.”

Frozen in place from both shock and pure need, you airily gasp when you feel his cock head brushing itself through your folds. With a scarred wrist, Dabi swipes his tip between your folds, eyes fully absorbing and watching your expression twitch with every sensitive brush.

“Touya,” he tells you through a slack jaw, watching your eyelids flutter at the teasing.

He pushes himself into your cunt, not fully, but enough for you to cry in slight release, before pulling out to where his tip is the only part of him swallowed by you.

“Touya,” he repeats, nearly chanting as he aches to engrain it into your system. So it’s all you’ll ever know, the only word your tongue will ever taste from now on, no matter who is sticking what inside of you. He works to make your body remember that the only thing it should think of when feeling the slight stretch of your throbbing cunt is—

“Touya,” he bleeds. It almost doesn’t even sound like a word. “Say it. Touya.”

And you do. It crawls breathy and drunk from your throat as if your lips were made to form its syllables. Like a holy mantra falling from your lips, his whole body shivers when he hears your sweet heaves.

“Touya,” is whimpered into his lips.

He holds his breath for a beat, before shakily recollecting himself from his quickly approaching high and readjusting his grip on your jaw.

“Again, fuck.”

“Touya,” you gasp at his now snapping hips. It’s deeper, slower, and even more desperate than you thought it was before. It's messy and tired and he cradles you in his palms as you chant his name like a prayer.

Touya. Touya. Touya.

He abruptly finishes inside of you, his spurting warmth easily sending you over the edge, too.

While it was something that was always offered, Touya has never once come inside of you, always choosing to pull out last second, if he finished at all. You savor the moment, letting him rut his cum into you until your both dry with exhaustion.

Breathing returns to a normal rate and Touya lets himself soften inside of you. With his head burrowed in your neck, he makes a move to pull out of you. To leave, your chest tightens at the realization, so on instinct, you let your legs wrap around his torso, crossing your ankles and keeping him as your own for just a little bit longer.

Without a fight, he lets you. He lets himself stay inside of you as he drifts to sleep in your hold.

“Touya,” he hears you coo, listens to you taste it on your tongue and determine that you like its flavor.

“S’pretty,” you decide in a sleeping daze. “Fits you better.”

Dabi drifts to sleep thinking about the irony of that statement.

…

The puzzle pieces itself together rather quickly after that.

It turns out Endeavor does have kids—four, to be exact. Three boys and a girl, all different equations of fire and ice and grief.

It's not hard to find articles on what happened at Sekoto Peak. What happened to Touya Todoroki, the boy who died for nothing, who you now know somehow sits alive on your couch with a bowl of ramen noodles and a wet head.

He focuses on the television before him. A cheesy horror film from the late 80s plays through the grainy screen. His feet are resting on top of the coffee table and the bowl in his lap is steaming. He uses his chopsticks to dive in regardless of its heat.

Sitting on the opposite end of the couch, you can smell your eucalyptus shampoo in his hair from where you sit. Though his head is still damp, you can tell the color has gotten lighter. While still practically jet black all over, you're able to see the slightest tint of light peeking through his roots. You know better than to ask, but you're sure your guess is as good as any.

Touya must feel your gaze on him because his eyes flicker to the side where you quietly admire his profile. Through a mouthful of noodles and steaming broth, he mumbles.

“What’re you doing?”

You smile at the lack of enunciation in his words before innocently shaking your head. “Nothing.”

Unconvinced, his eyes narrow. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” he accuses.

You roll your eyes out of habit though your heart is anything but irritated, “What, I can’t look at you, now?”

He uses the next bite he takes to hide the smirk growing on his face. “Not with that stupid look on your face.”

He takes pride in watching you get flustered, scrunching your nose and giggling out a horrified, “What look?”

He reaches across the couch to close the gap between the two of you, before flicking your forehead.

“That look,” he declares.

He doesn't move back to where he was sitting. He lets himself remain next to you, your head lightly resting on his shoulder as the sound of the movie webs throughout your living room.

It’s easy, too easy. It’s natural and warm and feels like the closest thing to a home he’s ever held in his calloused and weeping palms.

And Touya is selfish.

He wants to grasp onto it, white-knuckled and pressing crescents into his palms—he wants to keep you. Wants to keep this. But he knows better.

Touya knows that the stupid look on your face was one of love. Pure and undeniable. But he doesn't let himself think too much about it.

…

The weather changes with the wind, and it’s colder in Japan when Touya gives you a piece of him you never thought you’d get.

He’s just arrived back from god knows where doing god knows what, but you’ve learned not to question it. You welcome him in every time with a warm smile and an urge to hold him, and he thinks maybe thats why he hears himself suddenly spilling.

“Saw him today,” he breathes evenly.

His words hold no context, no prior conversation triggering his statement. It just exists in the space between the two of you on the couch, and the ball is in your court.

Your head tilts in careful thought, “Who?”

“Downtown,” he ignores your question, “cornered him for a second and everything.”

And though you know nothing and shouldn’t be able to understand the man beside you, you do.

You feel his pain in the way his eyebrow twitches, how his fingers crack against his palms. You might not get it, but you try. You’ll always try for Touya.

You encourage him, “And what happened?”

The wind howls outside, and you feel your home settle beneath its harsh hit. The walls crack with movement as the two of you remain seated beside one another.

After a moment, Touya clears his throat.

“Nothing,” he bitterly laughs to himself. “Absolutely nothing.”

The tea in your hand buzzes heat through its mug, and it feels like Touya’s touch. When he’s careful and cautious and places his hands on your stomach, treating you like glass he needs to mold.

“Looked me dead in the eyes, felt my fuckin’ flame, and—” he cuts himself off at the emotion crawling into his words with a cough, “and nothing.”

You say nothing, but Touya knows that nothing needs to be said. He can sit on his couch with the tea you made him and the look you're giving him and he knows he can trust you. As much as he doesn't want to, he can.

With his head hung low in shame, he rips off the only bandaid he’s ever had for the deepest wound he never got the chance to properly clean.

“He’s my old man,” he harshly swallows.

After a moment of silence, he drags his head up from the floor.

You're still looking at him the same, eyes dancing with love and some sick want to understand him.

You simply reach across the cushion and squeeze his hand.

“I know,” you whisper.

And in what Touya imagined to be an earth-shattering conversation, he feels the corner of his mouth pulling upwards into an ironic smile.

“’Course you do,” he laughs under his breath. It's not malicious or accusatory, it's a matter of fact.

Because of course, you know. Of course, you would see through his master puppetry and barring fangs. Of course, it wouldn't change how you see him.

Of course.

In what should be a terrifying moment, Touya lets himself smile. He shakes his head as he sighs, “Father of the fuckin’ year, right?”

…

“M’gonna do something,” Touya tells you solemnly one afternoon in bed, “and you’re gonna hate me for it.”

The freshly setting sun shines through the window, and you can feel its heat warming up your legs through the frame. The rays feel oddly contrasting to his cloudy day words.

You open your eyes to find his. They’re already looking back at you, glasslike as they flicker across your features. Like he’s searching for something neither of you have an answer to.

Your foot brushes against his calf as you shift to face him.

“I could never hate you,” you softly remind him, “you know that.”

Touya fights the urge to roll his eyes, and you bite back a smile at the agitation wrinkles forming on his forehead. Your fingers move without thinking, using your thumb to iron and smooth over his delicate skin.

“Fine,” he huffs, but you don’t miss the way he softens beneath your touch.

“I’m gonna do something and you’re gonna yell at me for it,” he follows up more gentle this time, like a tainted whisper afraid to be too loud in the honeyed quietness of your home.

It fills your stomach with a familiar sense of unease.

“Well, do you deserve to be yelled at?”

He softly smiles, one equal parts of happy and sad, “Probably.”

You return the look as you sit on his words. He’s treading lightly, which is a thoughtful change compared to his usual acting on impulse.

He’s cautioning you. Preparing you for something bitter, and while you appreciate the warning, you know it can’t be anything good. It feels a lot like the breathtaking sunset before a disastrous overnight storm.

Your voice is a whisper when you meekly ask him, “Can you tell me any more?”

And though the look on his face is regretful, his answer comes all the same.

“No,” he swallows.

And like the saint you are, Touya doesn’t know why he’s surprised when you merely bob your head in understanding and smile.

“Okay,” you nod.

You expect that to be all. Because Touya’s never been one for words, let alone more than the bare minimum amount needed. And you were deemed lucky enough to get a vague warning.

That should be the end of the conversation, but it’s not.

Touya reaches for your wrist and his fingers dance along the bone lightly. He doesn’t remove his eyes from where they bore into yours when he breathes.

“M’sorry.”

The words are foreign on his tongue, and his smallness unsettles you. Something feels wrong, like nausea brewing and waiting for bile to finally strike.

You sit up, cradling his face in your palms as you coo words of reassurance. He feels cold, his body temperature ironically contrasting the heat that runs through his veins. He’s trying so hard to keep whatever he knows inside the clear cage of his mind, but you can practically hear the cracking of the glass beneath it’s weight.

“Hey, no,” you exhale between kisses to his hairline. “No, don’t start that shit.”

Because while he doesn’t tell you everything, Touya tells you enough, and it’s more than you ever thought would be true with someone as out of reach as him.

He may not tell you he loves you, but he says it through his eyes. He doesn’t tell you how he has so much respect for you it could swallow him whole, but sometimes, in the glimpse of his stolen glances, you can feel it.

He can’t tell you what he’s going to do, but he can tell you he’s sorry. And that is something in and of itself.

Touya closes his eyes at the affection. He wishes he could freeze time and savor this moment forever. Keep it as a souvenir to place on his shelf and keep him company on lonely nights to come. He doesn’t want it to end, doesn’t want to be anywhere else that isn't here, right now, with you.

He does his best to soak in how your lips feel against his as you promise, “We’ll figure it out, yeah?”

But he’s not so sure, because while you think he’s apologizing for not being able to tell you more, Touya is apologizing for the hell he knows is to come.

…

He’s dead. He has to be dead.

The screen in front of you feels like a cruel joke as it flashes clips of the scene. Not Dabi, but Touya, on national television—spewing venom to the entire country with a smile. .

He speaks slowly, solemnly, like he's thought this through. Like he’s rehearsed and planned this all along. He speaks like a spiraling politician, and it cuts like a blade in your back.

You think about the television screens across the city right now.

A family whose gameshow night got rudely interrupted. A cafe whose workers are making their final lattes for the night, sweeping the floors and washing the counters as his rambling mindlessly plays in the background. You wonder if anybody is home at the Todoroki residence, if the television is on, or if it was unplugged years ago.

Touya is dead, and he warned you.

That’s why he did this, why he planned this to unfold the way it did. He told you that you’d hate him, and like a fool, you told him he was wrong.

A knock on the door is barely heard over your heavy breathing, and you debate on answering it.

It has to be the police, or maybe even a hero—looking for you, now an accomplice blinded by a mirror you thought was a window.

Your brain starts to spiral with thoughts that make your chest heave.

Did Touya turn himself in? Go down without a fight? Did someone see him leave your home? Had they known this entire time?

Maybe they were waiting for the right moment to strike, for the dominoes to ripple so they can make their move when you’re too weak to defend yourself. Maybe he double-crossed you, blamed whatever he could on you before driving a getaway car in the opposite direction of your apartment. Maybe he never cared at all—maybe the realest thing you’d ever known was orchestrated from beginning to end.

Another knock comes, this time more urgent and harsh. And there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable—so with tear-stained cheeks and shaking shoulders, you open the door.

And it’s Touya.

With white hair and soggy clothes, he stands in the hallway of your crumby apartment complex.

You want to laugh at the irony of it all. The first time he uses your actually door instead of window, he's a new man.

New hair, new name, a new look in his eye—one that swims of something you can't put your finger on. He’s alive and in front of you, and regardless of the anger overflowing your cup, you need to feel him.

So you pull him through the threshold, inside of your home, and against your skin. You feel the wet leather of his jacket, and smell the ash from the battle mixed with the coffee he had before he left this morning.

He’s here, and you love him.

“I hate you,” your cries vibrate against his chest as you weakly push and punch at his shoulders. “I hate you, I fucking hate you.”

Touya lets you sob into his shirt. It’s covered in your tears and blood that’s not his. He lets you thrash and scream and crumple beneath his hold.

He wants to say I told you so. I told you you’d hate me.

“How could you do that,” he makes out between your hyperventilating and sobs, “how could you do that to me?”

His throat restricts with tears that can’t come as you melt against his body, “I would have never done that to you.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya breathes, and he repeats it. Says it again and again and again until it all bleeds together into nothing but syllables and sobs.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m home, and I’m sorry.

…

The bedroom is cold, the window slightly cracked open as Touya shuffles your quilted blanket off of his clammy body.

He always runs a bit hot at night, though he’s ironically ice to the touch when his quirk isn’t at work.

Now on top of your comforter, his scarred palm lays open to you. He flinches every now and then as you delicately draw shapes into it with a painted fingernail. His eyes are closed, but he’s able to recognize the swirling form of your movements, the same ones you’ve drawn every night since he came back home to you.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s felt this at peace.

After everything, he’s still here. And not only is he still here, but he’s okay with that, because he’s with you.

“I've never—” he hesitates, but the darkness illuminating the room gives him a surge of confidence.

“I've never had this,” his voice is pained, nearly softer than silence itself.

He feels your finger stop swirling for a moment, but it resumes just as quickly as it halted. He feels you alter your pattern, and with cleaner lines and softer edges, he’s able to recognize the heart you doodle on his skin.

“Had what?” you gently ask.

“A home,” Touya breathes, before correcting himself, “where I’m wanted.”

You smile and Touya feels so loved he nearly makes himself sick. He feels so held, so wanted, so right in your bed and beneath your delicate fingertips.

The stranger in your home. The outlaw who smells of your perfume. The boy who never got a second chance, but the man who got a third.

Touya has so much love for you that he doesn't know where to put it all.

But for a moment, when he looks at your smile and feels your fingertip tracing his palm, he sees it as you offering your open arms to hold any excess he can’t carry.

He feels you grin against the scarring of his wrist.

“Well,” you kiss the tender spot where skin meets stitching, “you might wanna get used to it.”

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