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#it deserves the ugly snort too
soapsdish · 7 months
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I just read in a fic someone describing a milkshake as 'sweet juice nectar' and I haven't stopped laughing. send help!
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theemporium · 6 months
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💰with Sirius??? He would absolutely just spoil spoil spoil reader with everything. Like that trend with dogs where the owners buy everyone the dog sniffs, he’d be following reader and buying anything she even vaguely grazes. She def hates it and feels bad everytime but he’s like “let my family’s name do one good thing for me and let me spend it all on you”
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
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“Sirius, put it down.”
“But you want it.”
“No, I don’t—”
“Love, I saw you staring at it for the last five minutes,” he countered, almost looking far too smug for your liking. 
“Just because I look at something doesn’t mean you have to buy it for me,” you snapped back at him, trying to fight the urge to glance down at all the bags of stuff he had bought you during your trip through Diagon Alley so far. The pile was only getting bigger and it was starting to make you feel nauseous. 
“But I want to buy it for you,” Sirius said with an easy smile on his face. “Would you really stop my happiness and wants because of your own selfishness, love?”
You shot him a look.
“In fact, this might be the only thing that brings me joy,” he continued as he stepped over the bags and reached for you. “This might be the only source of happiness in my sad, sad life.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous, Sirius Black.”
“No, I am just a man from a tragically rich family who wants to use his money to spoil his girl instead of buying those atrociously ugly dressing robes my mother keeps hinting at,” Sirius retorted, his nose scrunching up in disgust at the mere mention of the robes. “I saw Lucius in them the other day. It looked like a Hippogriff threw up on him.”
This time you let out a full laugh, boisterous and bellyful and definitely out of place in the high-end jewellers you were both currently standing in.
“Hm, although that laugh is a close second in making me happy,” Sirius murmured with a fond smile on his face.
“You do this every time,” you complained as your hands fisted the material of his shirt, fingers smoothing over the buttons. “You butter me up so I give in and let you buy me stuff.”
“It’s a strategy,” Sirius said proudly. “And it works.”
“You need to stop it before you waste all your money on me,” you told him with a shake of your head.
“It would never be a waste if it was on you, love,” Sirius told you, though his words were thick with emotion and sincerity as he cupped your face in his hands. “I want to give you everything you deserve.” 
“But all I want is you,” you countered. “You are more than enough for me, Sirius. I don’t need you to flash or flaunt your money on me.”
“Yeah, but I like seeing the way you try to hide that smile of yours whenever you wear something I bought you,” Sirius said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. “And I think that little diamond thing would look gorgeous on you.”
“It’s called a choker,” you laughed. 
“I thought that was my job,” Sirius grinned back at you.
“Sirius!”
“What?! I am being serious!”
.
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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months
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Oh hell no 😭 bruce better explain asap. Jason doesn’t deserve that wtf
Jason tried. He really did. Because he didn't want to snap- that in itself told him how much you'd changed him. He just wanted to go home.
But the longer his siblings chattered and the longer Bruce lurked and paced, trying to figure out what to do now that he was here- the lower his tolerance got. And all he could do was shake his head, "I have to go," he said clearly. "The kids are going to be worried."
He'd been pulled away from home in the middle of the night. Had to pack a bag and go- something that always made them upset. Even if it was just a quick overnight for a case. Not that he was shocked, their biological mom had done a lot of coming and going when they were too small to understand.
"Jay-" Stephanine started but Jason held up a hand to stop her.
"This was a really dirty trick, even for all of you. I never ran away and hid. If you have anything to say to me, you can say it to that ugly fucking portrait in the hall." And then he turned around and walked out. Brushing past Dick and Bruce on the way out.
He trotted down the steps back towards his bike and Dick followed, "Jason I didn't know-"
"I know," Jason sighed.
"I'm sorry," he said, handing Jason his helmet. "Tell your wife not to beat me up?"
Jason took the helmet and smiled a little, "You know. She refused to say any vows that had the word 'obey' in them. She told me she hasn't obeyed anyone her whole life and I'm not that special."
"So if I ever come back wear body armor?" Dick snorted
"Or at least be ready to grovel and fuss over the kids- might buy you some time."
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silverflqmes · 1 month
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sephiroth x reader where he meets this amazing girl (note: you) and she cooks him a homemade meal but he freaks out because he doesnt understand how to take it properly? but he starts crying of joy because he's happy to take it since he read about how moms treat their kids and he just kinna finds solace in this girl and wants find her again but obviously shinra keeps having other plans until finally one DAY she comes back again and you can decide what happens next :)
໒⦂ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔.
notes. i may have indulged a little ( a lot ) here, anon.. but i hope it’s somewhat okay.. brb i might have to ugly cry after this.. he makes me so😿 IM NOT NORMAL ANYMORE SOBS
genre. hurt + comfort
tw. discussion of bad eating habits.
sephiroth x gn!reader
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the water came to a boil as you threw in your spaghetti, twisting the knob on low for the sauce you’d prepared.
sephiroth would be home any minute and as a reward for working as hard as he did everyday, you had taken it upon you to prepare his most favorite meal for him. it wasn’t too hard to cook, luckily, but hopefully it tasted good.
you allowed the pasta to come to a boil, taking the time to set the table nicely. while sephiroth wasn’t one for the fancy shit or grandeur, you wanted to provide him with a good ambience. he deserved it, anyway.
on a trip to sector five, you’d managed to score a dozen of flowers from a sweet girl zack was interested — aerith, as you recalled. somehow he had started her on a business with her rare blooms, it was creative and cute that he’d made the time to do that with her.
while passing by him, he had urged you to buy some to help her start out — which you were happy to do. certainly when they made the perfect centerpiece and smelled pleasantly.
the bubbles began to surface in your absence, a jingling sound entering your ears once you’d returned to turn off the heat. sephiroth was home!
a smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you wiped a bead of sweat from your forehead before walking up to the door when he emerged. “welcome home, sephiroth!”
his face that was colored with exhaustion instantly contorted into one of ease, lips curling at the sight of you, his precious partner. were you waiting for him? how adorable.
the first class SOLDIER leaned in closely to your face and bestowed you with a chaste kiss, chuckling softly. “thank you, y/n. it’s a lovely sight to find you here,” he continued, holding your cheek in his gloved hand before looking behind you. “i see you’ve been busy.”
your cheeks burned at his words, a fuzzy feeling finding its way to your chest as you let out a sheepish laugh. “a-ah, i may have helped myself to your kitchen.. i hope you don’t mind.” he wouldn’t mind, he never did — but you still felt the need to say so.
his thumb rolled over your soft skin, a sound of amusement tumbling past his lips. “not at all, might i ask what you prepared yourself?”
blinking, you then proceeded to quirk a brow before snorting. “i composed a gourmet meal for the both of us, featuring candlelight and flowers. up to your standards, mr. first class?” you joked, to which he rolled his eyes, playfully.
“you treat me as if i were royalty.” sephiroth turned his head away, failing to suppress the small lift to his rosewood appendages.
you took ahold of his leather clad hand, snickering softly. “the best way to treat you, according to your dearest lover!” came your cheery response as you tugged him forward. “now come on, i doubt a battlefield has a scheduled lunch or dinner time!”
the silver haired male couldn’t argue with that reasoning. some missions went without food for long periods of time — just another thing he’d learnt to bear over the years. the human body could go weeks without alimentation, and he was no stranger to being denied or prevented from having a meal.
however, upon meeting you and having explained that reasoning to you early into your relationship.. he was met with quite a different perspective. while the SOLDIER found eating to be secondary — something that he would indulge in if the time and situation was right, you.. stressed it.
it had come as a great shock when he would announce he’d only had breakfast for the entirety of the day — which was basically just a bar or shake.. the bare minimum, in other words. frustrated, you’d scolded him that very evening before falling into a routine of meal preparation.
you didn’t care if he had to show up with this cutesy lunch box in a den of SOLDIERs, but it better have been emptied or so help you.
sephiroth had been greatly confused by your concern, and quite frankly — still was, however he understood where you were coming from ( despite lacking the same care for himself that you showed him ), and ate every last bite.
“i suppose i have to agree with that.” the long haired swordsman finally answered, bringing his steps to a halt before your work.
it wasn’t like you hadn’t made him food before, but this time felt different. you always put your all into everything, though this felt extra, extra special, somehow. perhaps, being cooked dinner was more.. intimate?
you patted his armored shoulder, grinning. “good! now get comfy while i get your plate ready, i used up the wine for the sauce.. so um, just water for tonight — but you need it!!”
with that, you had dashed back over to the kitchen, leaving behind a chuckling sephiroth. he’d never seen someone be so serious over dinner, it was silly. and yet, endearing all at the same time that you cared so deeply for his health when everyone had taught or treated him otherwise.
“are you certain you don’t require my assistance?” he inquired, leaning back in his seat to see if you were managing.
a laugh echoed from kitchen at his expression of concern. “nope! you just sit tight, on my way over now!” you assured, picking up your bowls and a basket of freshly sliced bread before making your way to the table.
despite your dismissal, the cat eyed hero made his way over to help with the placement, not wanting you to struggle any longer. you’d gone through great lengths for him today after all, it was the least he could do.
as sephiroth sat across from you, he was finally given the chance to take a look at what you’d put together, blinking in surprise.
“seafood pasta..?” he couldn’t remember the last time he had it. “how.. did you know?”
picking a piece of bread, you found yourself winking, suppressing a giggle. “i may or may not have asked cissnei.. given her network of information.” you smiled sheepishly, grabbing your silverware. “i hope that’s okay with you- i just wanted to make something you really, really liked!”
the first class SOLDIER was quiet for a moment, a strange warmth bubbling in his chest.
subconsciously, his hand lifted to touch where his heart had been, if only to find out what that strange feeling had been. “you.. you did that, for me?” his voice had almost come out in a weak whisper. the mako hued male was soft spoken to begin with, but this held more vulnerability than the other times.
an eager nod was the response he’d received, and despite his desire to question why, he took it as his cue to pick up his silverware, twirling the spaghetti with his fork. it.. had been a long time since he’d had his favorite dish, and homemade.. was a first.
as he tasted your work, he almost melted at the flavors — the nostalgia of it all. and yet.. it somehow was even better than any other occasion he had ordered or cooked it himself.
was it.. because you had made it specially for him? how odd, that the cooking from a specific person could affect the outcome so drastically.
“how is it?” you finally spoke up, curious to hear of his thoughts. “the seafood was a lucky find, i’m hoping it’s good and that i didn’t get scammed ahahaha..”
given midgar’s inland location, fish.. wasn’t something commonly sold, and if it was — it certainly would have costed a pretty gil. had you really gone through all this effort, just for him?
sephiroth swallowed the next bite he took, inclining his head. “it’s wonderful- nobody, i realize.. has ever done something like this for me before — or gone through as much trouble as you had to do this for me..” he spoke up in acknowledgment, feeling his eyes soften.. and blur?
why was his vision — was he.. crying?
the silver haired SOLDIER raised his gloved hands to brush the corners of his eyes. fresh tears, yes. he’d almost forgotten the feeling.
“seph-?” you blurted, getting up from your chair before rushing over to him. “oh no- is it bad?? are you having allergies — i didn’t put anything spicy in it.. a-ahh, i don’t have an allergy pen..” you panicked, dashing over to your purse before feeling a hand grasp your own.
your lashes fluttered in surprise when you were suddenly pulled into firm chest, silver draping over you as a pair of strong arms encircled your body.
“s-sephiroth?” you called out softly, worry in your voice as you rested your hands on his back, reciprocating the embrace. “everything okay? you’re crying..” you added quietly, frowning. did something happen?
he sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “i apologize- i didn’t mean to bring you anxiety with my sudden reaction.. the food was lovely, truly, and i.. could not be more grateful for it.” shinra’s hero began, relenting his grip a little. he didn’t want to hurt or bruise you after all with his strength. “i guess i was just.. taken by surprise, is all — being treated in this way is still.. rather foreign to me.” he admitted, attempting to even his voice out.
but you were patient, and listened to the best of your extent, at last understanding what he meant.
your boyfriend spoke little of his past, but the few things that he’d felt comfortable enough to elaborate on.. had been horrible to hear- it made your heart ache terribly in your chest.
“oh sephiroth..” you whispered gently, sliding your fingers into his hair comfortingly. “you’re okay, don’t apologize.. i was just worried since shellfish allergies are common..” you exhaled, panic dissipating. “i’m just glad you’re not sick.. but hey, you deserve this- alright? you work really hard everyday, you have been all your life.. this is the least i could do.”
he felt himself calm down gradually with your words, breaths slowly coming out more even. the male hadn’t planned on breaking down so suddenly, and while he felt bad.. you assured him that it was okay to react and feel as he did.
what.. made him so special to you? to go to all these extents for him and yet disregard all your efforts all at the same time..
“the ‘least’ you speak of hardly covers all that you do for me, y/n.. despite finding myself undeserving of your kindness.. i am forever grateful to be wanted and cared for by you — to be looked at in the way your eyes view me.. rather than the usual contempt and obsessive fascination scrutiny that i am met with.” he spoke after a brief silence, wanting to translate his feelings into words as best as possible.
they nearly had you melting, and out of pure adoration, you brought your lips at last to his. a reassurance that you had understood every bit of his feelings and that you had returned them all in full.
“you are every bit as deserving, sephiroth, as am i of you.. and i’ll always, always care for you. to me — you are everything, and worthy of all the love in the world.”
notes. screaming crying this is a little rushed towards the end but i hope it’s decent enough anon! my illiterate ass did not read the last bit of the request.. so i didn’t include the shinra bit😭 hope it’s okay!
↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask
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bigfatbimbo · 2 months
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silly low effort Velvette x reader headcanons —
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If there’s one thing I love, it’s evil, malicious, terrifying, bitchy woman. Anyways, that’s why we’re here. LOOK AT HERE SHES SO EVIL AND BAD!! I LOVE HER!! I feel like to date Velvette you have to have such genuine patience because she is very difficult all the time. Like she’s the type to ask what outfit she should wear and hold up two different sets. And then when you give her an answer she goes ”What, you think I can’t pull the other one off, or something?” And you’d be like “dude, no that’s not what I—“ Then just to spite she’d go “Well fuck you then, I’m going to wear that one.” I don’t think she does it in a serious way though, she just likes escalating things. I mean, you guys all listened to respectless, of course she does. I think she loves those shitty reality tv shows unapologetically and with all her heart. And yes, she will make you watch them with her and you will not have a choose. You’d be curled up on the couch together and she’d be laying on your chest with one arm extended out to point the remote at the tv and flip through channels. She’d be like “What d’you wanna watch, you think?” and you’d say “Not that reality tv trash, that’s for sure” and she’d go “Mmmm, okay!” And then she’d turn on one of her dumb shows immediately and laugh to herself when you groan. Speaking of laughter, I have this silly headcanons where she snorts when she laughs. But she thinks it’s sounds ugly so she literally hates when you say something that provokes a laughing fit. Well, she doesn’t really hate it, not when you always comment on how cute her giggles are. They are not cute and they sound like she’s dying all over again. She also really likes when you give her massages and rub her shoulders like after a long day of work. Because it’s stressful stuff, the fashion industry. So she also appreciates softer quality time. Like just cuddling up on the couch in one of your t shirts. Also sometimes she fully cleans out your closest and puts everything she hates in one big pile that she calls the ‘burn it with fire’ pile. ”Hate the yellow, it’s hideous and makes you look infected. Oh and this red would literally only go good with one of your bottoms. It’s a waste.” But she thinks you’re beautiful and gorgeous and so obviously you deserve better clothes?? Like duh. She’s a big fan of princess treatment, too by the way. Like opening car doors for her, breakfast in bed, flowers for every anniversary (even the ‘8 weeks since our first kiss!’brandom milestone. Yeah, she just wants flowers.) BUT DO NOT do the throwing your coat over a puddle of mud thing for her because “Why the fuck would you do that to an innocent coat. Are you completely daft?” Just pick her up and carry her over the puddle, fucking obviously. Also she loves doing your nails, hair, or dressing you up in general. She’s actually weirdly such a mastermind when it comes to this shit because all of it is catered specifically to your style and vibes, while also purposefully complimenting whatever her fit is that day. I think she also likes very fancy dates where she gets to show you off to the public. Especially when you let her pick the outfits, she’s ecstatic and very very excited and equally proud of herself. Also I said this on a previous post but I love the idea and no one has brought it up for a while but once you make your relationship public, she watches edits that her fans make of you two.
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a/n — Bottom Velvette request came in and lowkey i’m hyped. Princess treatment to the max, for real for real.
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tojisun · 3 months
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dbf!simon x fem reader; dbf!simon x ofc
!! suggestive - minors dni; simon's a dick; is it cheating if you two are on-and-off
: draft :'D - i didnt want to post it as part of the dbf!simon series because it felt too juvenile and not in-line with the series (as i tend to avoid writing simon's pov to further shroud doubt to how he feels for the reader) but i miss writing so i tweaked this a bit
it is laughable, really, how you never seemed to have good people in your corner. how, at every turn, you keep getting betrayed. left broken and weeping, your heart full of festering wounds.
simon's guilty of it, of course.
he is no saint. he knows the shit he does hurts you but he has always known the bed he's made in hell and was more than ready to lay in it. to submerge himself in the fire because there is just something so addicting in the way he seeks for you, all mangled soul and yearning—ugly in the way he bears the burden of his affections to you—only to be accepted with nothing but a wet sniffle and a, "you hurt me." and simon hears it for what it is—his absolvement.
in return, simon whispers his apologies, all half-meant because he can't change. not when he loves the way you love him.
but this.
oh but this is just too cruel, it makes him twitch with a crude sense of delight.
"she doesn't deserve you," she mumbles, eyes glassy with tears. she introduced herself, said her name's kara. said she's your friend.
("see?" he would tell you much later, his palms warm as they clung to your waist. "she didn't mean a thing to me, baby."
"o-okay," you would reply, choking on your tears. "m'sorry for doubtin'."
simon would bite a grin and pepper kisses all over the column of your neck and up to the cut of your jaw, feather-light as they danced just past your lips.
"s'okay," he would whisper. "i knew you didn't mean to."
you would bury your face on the juncture of his neck with a wet sniffle, and simon would suppress a tremble because this.
this was exactly how he likes you.)
"oh yeah?" simon asks, snorting to himself. "and what? you reckon you're a better option?"
she flushes, cheeks filling with heat and eyes darkening as she frowns. simon expected her to storm off, taking his dismissal for what it is and running away to pretend to be your comfort place again.
instead, she seems to make herself more resolute, fists tightening on her skirt before meeting his eyes head-on.
"yes," kara says, all faux confidence. "i am."
simon hums, swirling his glass of gin as he looks away. "why's that?"
"because i know how to love you."
simon pauses, eyes shifting back to her.
kara says love in a way he knows isn't all that softness you have always associated with it—ghosting kisses and whispered confessions—or similar to the weight erin has always cloaked the word in—something that was beyond dinner parties and bike rides. kara says love and simon sees what she wants.
she wants the passion. the danger. she wants to submerge herself in the taboo love that she must have heard from you—the rough sex, the fast burn, the way he engulfs you whole until you are left twitching on the bed, gaze faraway and oversensitive as you come down from your high, before dealing with a heartache as he leaves.
it was a dance with you. it was something he tried to curb with erin only to realize, half-way, he wanted the thrill that you gave him.
with kara, simon knows it's all a front.
he flits his eyes down at her, licking the back of his teeth as he takes her in because kara is beautiful, alright. not really his type but he sees the appeal.
(she isn't anything like you and, somehow, that makes it easier for simon to indulge.)
he takes her to a hotel. he fucks her against the wall on the entryway of the room, and leaves after he came across her back.
simon fishes for his phone and rings you.
"si?" your voice is a sleepy croak on the other side. it makes his heart clench with desire.
"i wanna see you, sweetheart."
a static. sheets rustling. then, "okay." a yawn. "i can't wait."
what a sweet thing you are. this is why he can't really give you up.
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anonymous-dentist · 3 months
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A very lonely night from the Merpepito AU
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Pepito can’t sleep. The boat is rocking too much and Miss Baghera is snoring (even though she keeps saying that Captain Celbi is the one snoring; she’s just a dirty rotten pirate, though, so why would she tell the truth?) and Pepito can’t stop thinking about the Very Bad Thing and, and, and-
Pepito whimpers into his pillow. His eyes squeeze shut, but all he sees in the darkness is the blood and their eyes- their eyes!! Empty and terrified and all because of Pepito because Pepito is a Bad Pepito.
Apa Roier is probably sleeping just fine. Him and Apa Mariana probably haven’t even noticed that Pepito’s been gone for an entire month. They probably got Apa Quackity and Apa Carre and Ama Rivers and they got a new Pepito- a Good Pepito- and they’re all in the same house and happy, and it’s fine!!!
Pepito stifles a sob with the sleeve of his shirt. They’re probably happier with their New Pepito. That Pepito isn’t a bad person. They deserve a Good Pepito, they’re good parents. The best parents. Ever. Of all time.
Miss Baghera snorfles in her sleep, and Pepito decides that, despite him being a super evil pirate now, it would be rude to wake Miss Baghera up with his crying.
So Pepito slides out of his bunk and puts his glasses on.
He tiptoes out of the sleeping quarters and upstairs onto the deck (because that’s apparently what the ship’s roof is called.)
The sun is nice, but Pepito thinks that Pepito likes the moon just as much. It always looks like it’s smiling, even when it’s going away to hide. Pretty…
Pepito huddles next to the central mast and looks up at the moon. Maybe the moon would like Pepito. It seems nice.
Pepito can’t talk because of the Magic, but he can think, and, silently, he asks the moon if it would like to be Pepito’s friend.
That’s when Pepito hears a quiet sniffle from up by the steering wheel.
Peeking around the mast, Pepito sees… Captain Celbi!? Crying!? And alone…
Determined, Pepito stands and trots up the stairs to the steering wheel.
Captain Celbi, of course, sees Pepito approaching. He has good eyes. (He’s so cool!)
“Hi, Pepito,” Captain Celbi says. He smiles, and, in the dark, it doesn’t even look like he’s sad.
He isn’t in his Captain Clothes. He’s in his… pajamas? He’s half-dressed: half-pajamas, half regular clothes. His coat is on, but his hat isn’t.
He has both of his hands firmly planted on the steering wheel’s handles, and- whoah, holy Ocean, did his hair just move!?
Almost silver in the moonlight, one of two little pointy things on the top of Captain Celbi’s head twitches like a nervous clownfish.
Pepito gasps. Captain Celbi has horns!
Wait, no, that’s silly. Sky Pepitos are “humans”. They can’t have horns.
As if following Pepito’s train of thought, Captain Celbi raises a hand to press his pointy things down against the top of his head.
“Ignore them,” he tells Pepito. “What’s up? Is Baghera snoring again?”
Pepito nods, still staring up at Captain Celbi’s head.
Captain Celbi snorts and shakes his head fondly.
“And she says I snore,” he scoffs. “What a liar, huh, Pepito?”
Pepito shrugs. They’re all pirates. They’re supposed to lie, aren’t they? That’s what Apa Roier says, pirates are all ugly and smelly and they’re all liars and killers and thieves (though he always says it with a weird fuzzy look in his eyes and with a smile on his face, weird.)
“Don’t worry. You can hang out up here with me until you’re tired enough to sleep,” Captain Celbi says.
Pepito wants to say that he doesn’t wanna sleep because every time Pepito sleeps he sees the Very Bad Thing and he wakes up sick and sad and useless, but Pepito can’t. So he just sighs and sits by Captain Celbi’s feet and watches him steer.
And Captain Celbi lets him. He’s nice, for a pirate. Apa Roier would like him, probably. It’s a shame he’s a human. It’s a shame Pepito is Pepito. Now Apa Roier and Captain Celbi can never meet, all because of him.
Pepito’s lip wobbles. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Captain Celbi is letting out a soft, pained noise and crouching in front of Pepito with a concerned frown.
“Aw, hey, it’s fine,” Captain Celbi says. He pulls his sleeve up over his thumb and uses it to wipe under Pepito’s eyes. “I don’t mind, really. You can stay up here all night, if you want.”
That isn’t the problem!
Pepito is tired. Pepito wants to sleep.
Frustrated, Pepito raises his hands and puts them under his head as if they were a pillow.
“Right, you can’t sleep.” Captain Celbi nods. “Baghera is snoring. We can find you somewhere else in the morning?”
Pepito sighs and shakes Pepito’s head.
How to talk about nightmares…?
“You don’t want to move,” Captain Celbi guesses.
He pauses, then he tries again: “It isn’t the snoring.”
Pepito nods.
Pepito can’t talk, and Pepito is still learning the Sky Pepito writing system, so Pepito kinda just hangs out and hopes everyone gets what he wants to say. It’s like charades, kinda. It’s fun! Pepito loves charades!
But Pepito is sleepy, but Pepito hasn’t been able to sleep since leaving home because of the Very Bad Thing, and it stinks.
Captain Celbi hums thoughtfully, and then he settles down next to Pepito on the deck. (The Ocean feels still, they probably won’t get too off-track if Captain Celbi stops steering.)
“Do you want to know why I’m up here?” Captain Celbi asks.
He looks around to make sure that nobody has managed to sneak up onto the deck to eavesdrop.
Then, when he knows the coast is clear, he leans in and whispers, “I had a nightmare.”
Pepito’s eyes widen dramatically. No way!
Captain Celbi nods. “Yeah. It was super scary.”
Wordlessly, Pepito takes one of Captain Celbi’s hands in both of Pepito’s. It’s what Apa Mariana does when Pepito has nightmares back home, he holds Pepito’s hands to show him that he’s awake and the bad dream was just that: a dream.
The two points on Captain Celbi’s head stand up again as Pepito touches him, and they stay up.
Captain Celbi half-smiles. “Don’t worry, Pepito, I’m used to bad dreams. I’ve been having them since I was your age, probably.”
Pepito’s eyes widen. He frowns sympathetically. Poor Captain Celbi… even pirates don’t deserve bad dreams!
“But, because I’ve been having bad dreams for so long, I know how to forget about them,” Captain Celbi says. “See, my bad dreams are all about the bad things I’ve done, and those are in the past. So, to forget about the past, I think about the present and the future.”
He looks up at the moon, slit pupils widening. His eyes almost seem to glow blue in the night like a magic catfish’s.
Pepito thinks. The present and the future…
Well, Pepito is gonna grow up to be the bestest and scariest pirate on The Ocean. That’s in the future.
In the present, though, Pepito is just Pepito. Nothing special there. Just a Bad Pepito.
Captain Celbi’s fingers curl around Pepito’s.
“In the present, I’m taking my crew on a trip around the world, and we’re having a good time,” Captain Celbi continues. He looks at Pepito out of the corner of his eye. “Are you having a good time, Pepito?”
Pepito ponders. He thought there’d be more pirate-ing, but he’s been having a lot of fun playing games with Richarlyson and Pomme, and it’s fun learning how to tie knots with Mister Pac, and it’s really fun hiding in the crow’s nest with Mister Felps and Miss Baghera when they’re supposed to be doing chores.
So Pepito nods and grins.
Captain Celbi smiles the rest of the way and looks back up at the moon.
“And, in the present, I’m looking for treasure,” he says. “The most mysterious treasure of all. And, when I find him, then it’ll be time for the future.”
Can treasure be a person?
Well, Apa Carre always said that Pepito was his treasure, so it makes sense.
But Captain Celbi already has a Pepito, he has Richarlyson! Why does he need another treasure if he has a Richarlyson?
“By the time I’m ready to think about the future, it’s all my brain wants to imagine. So that’s what my dreams become,” Captain Celbi finishes. “Nightmares are in the past. The past doesn’t matter. What matters is the present.”
His voice goes harsh then, but Pepito doesn’t notice. He’s too busy thinking about the future: Captain Pepito in charge of the S.S. Pepito and beating up any annoying Navy guys he finds with his totally amazing crew.
Pepito yawns. Without thinking, he shuffles so he’s next to Captain Celbi. He leans against Captain Celbi, eyes slipping shut as he thinks of the future.
Apa Roier will be on the S.S. Pepito. So will the rest of Pepito’s parents, and they can bring their Good Pepito, too. They’re all Ocean Pepitos, so they won’t be able to breathe in the Sky, so they’ll have a swimming pool in the ship.
Pomme and Richarlyson will be there, too. So will Captain Celbi and Miss Baghera and Misters Pacandmike and Miss Mouse and Mister Felps and…
Soothed by the rocking of the waves and the comforting presence of his super scary and evil captain, Pepito finally manages to fall asleep, right there on the deck of the ship tucked into Captain Celbi’s side.
(And that’s how Richarlyson finds the two of them hours later when the sun rises.
Ew, Richarlyson thinks. He glowers and storms below deck to get some trash to dump on them.
Gross.
Pepito really should just learn that he isn’t Pai Cellbit’s kid, the little shit…)
-_-_-_-
A/N:
And that was Part 2 for you!
Hey guys!! PLEASE reblog this! And leave an ask or a comment or a tag or a whatever telling me your thoughts and questions! Let me know if you want more, because there is more!
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Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part4 They finally have a conversation and oh no... is that SImon falling even harder? (I feel like this isn't as good as the other parts ut I hope you enjoy it)
One of the perks of taking over the shop is that Simon can play his own music how often and how loud he wants now. Sure, he’s not obnoxious about it but he cares less about customer experience than his boss did (he doesn’t need to work after all, none of them do after that last mission, this is more to help him stay sane).
The only customer whose experience he cares about is you. You deserve the best experience, you deserve all the good things. So he’s gotten into the habit of having a special playlist for the days when you come in. It’s not like he spend hours selecting the right songs for that one, hoping to pleasantly surprise you.
Today you’re earlier than usually and Simon is still setting up the music, connecting his phone and selecting the playlist. He catches sight of you and watches you out of the corner of his eye. My god, you look fantastic. Simon has half a mind to get on his knees and beg for permission to cup your face, cradle you like the precious gift you are so he might stare at you up close and – fuck he misclicked.
Instead of your playlist he tapped his own and now one of his favorite songs is blasting from the speakers and shit shit shit this can’t be happening. He can’t weird you out with his music taste, he can’t have you be even more scared of him. You’re not supposed to hear that.
Suddenly his palms are all sweaty and he scrambles to change the song, fumbling with his phone like it’s a slippery bar of soap. This is so stupid, it’s just music but he can’t help it, not when it’s you and it’s important and he can’t afford to fuck up even more and –
“You like this song too?!”, your voice meets his ears and his head snaps into your direction, meeting your eyes like a deer caught in the headlights. His hands abruptly stop uselessly fondling his phone.
Your eyes are sparkling and your voice, have mercy on his poor heart, sounds adorably excited while you beam at him. He almost snorts. No way. Aint no fucking way. Not a sweet little thing like you. Not a song like this.
Your grin is so wide he can’t help it when he starts smiling too, goddamnit he wants to see you this happy all the time.
“’s one of my favorites.”, he grumbles and he swears you nearly squeal. He never would have thought you could get cuter, yet here you were, proving him wrong once again.
“Mine too!”, you exclaim and giddily fidget on your spot. “I listen to this so much in fact… that…”, you continue and Simon can’t fathom what you’re about to tell him.
You turn to your ugly beast of a dog and start swaying on the spot to the music. Simon’s knuckles turn white with the effort of holding himself back from reaching for you to sway with you. What he’d give to place his hands on your hips and feel you move with him.
And then your dog starts swaying too and Simon nearly chokes on his spit. When you start head banging and really getting into it the ugly mutt joins right in. The music increases in tempo and intensity and so do your movements and your dogs.
It looks utterly silly and happy and free and Simon can feel his chest burst open, dropping his useless bleeding heart right at your feet, thumping pathetically for your attention. Suddenly he wishes he was a different man. Someone like Johnny, who’d step out from behind the counter, snatch you up in his arms, and dance ridiculously with you.
The dog starts howling along with the lead singer and Simon thinks it can’t get any more ridiculous until you start howling back at your dog. That’s the moment he knows he’s truly a goner. A deep amused chuckle bubbles up in his throat and he can’t remember the last time he was this happy.
He wishes he could take this scene and transport it into his living room, join you and the dog just to collapse onto the couch with you afterwards and hold you close. Make sure you’ll never leave him again. He feels like all the adoration he has for you will choke him up, fill his lungs until there is no more room for any oxygen. Simon is sure he could live without it, survive on your happiness alone.
The song comes to an end and you look at him, sparkling eyes and heaving chest and he chuckles again. He never thought he’d see meek and shy little you do something like that. Promptly you blush at his chuckle.
“Yeah… that… I listen to it so much that my boy here just automatically dances with me to it. He’s quite the talented singer as well.”, you chuckle yourself. He can tell that you’re embarrassed now, wringing your fingers together and he wants to gather you in his arms and press you against him until you fuse into one.
“Quite the talent he has. Learnt from the best.”, Simon responds and wow, did he just casually joke with you?!
You grin broadly at him (he did that! He made you smile) and he smiles back, softly, hoping you can tell from the slight creases around his eyes.
“Thank you, thank you.”, you respond with mock modesty and Simon knows, what had been some silly crush broke all sort of confinement today (who is he kidding, he never had it under control).
“I love that band. Wanted to go to their concert but none of my friends share my taste in music and… well…” You look at the floor and Simon’s fingers twitch with the need to tilt your head back up at him. “I’m scared of going alone.”, you admit quietly.
He swears his gums hurt with the way he wants to sink his teeth into your soft form and drag you home with him, keeping you locked up so you'll never have to be scared again (maybe he should talk with his therapist about that).
Johnny must have possessed him and Kyle just phantom kicked him in his butt, because he responds with: “I’m planning on going to that concert, wanna join me? I’ll make sure you’re safe, sweetheart”
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kueble · 5 months
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I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You
Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.
Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.
Ghost/Soap
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“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..
“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.
“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.
“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.
“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.
“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.
Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.
Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.
If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.
“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.
“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.
“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.
“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.
“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.
“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.
“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.
“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.
“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.
The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.
“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.
“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”
“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.
“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”
“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.
“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.
Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.
It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.
“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.
“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.
He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.
To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.
Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.
“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.
“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.
“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.
He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.
When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.
“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.
“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.
“Never even met me.”
“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.
“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.
“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.
“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.
There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.
They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.
“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.
“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.
“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.
“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”
“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”
“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.
But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.
“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.
“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.
“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”
“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.
“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”
“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”
He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.
“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”
Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”
He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.
“The men involved?” he asks quietly.
“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.
“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.
“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.
“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.
“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.
“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”
He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.
If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.
He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.
The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”
Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.
He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.
They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.
After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.
“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.
“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.
“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.
“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.
“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”
“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.
“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.
“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.
“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.
“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.
“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.
But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.
“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.
“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.
“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.
“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.
“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.
“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.
“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.
“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.
And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.
“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”
“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”
“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.
“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.
“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.
“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.
“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.
“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.
And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.
Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.
“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.
“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.
And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.
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rainee-da · 7 days
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Your First 'I Love You' - 🍾 / 💧 / 💎
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This is the continuation of this headcanon! I initially intended for this to be included in the previous post but alas; I hit a roadblock lolol-
I've been thinking back and forth between adding Cell War or not. But I didn't care what anyone say; Cell War is part of the family too! I want to make hcs this angsty boi so much
Please don't forget to drink & hope you enjoy!🍀
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CHARACTER ❥ Delisaster / Domina Blowelive / Cell War GENRE ❥ Fluff w/ hurt and comfort spice for Domina and Cell WARNING ❥ Spoilers!!!! and maybe might be a bit OOC, depending on how you interpreted the character. Also, my English is not that good since it's not my main language. Feel free to correct me if I made a mistake, but please be nice!
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D E L I S A S T E R 🪞
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He was simply lounging around, stuffing himself with booze (rip that liver) when you suddenly came out of nowhere.
At first, he didn't pay any mind to it. He gave you one of his toothy smiles as he leaned back on the chair lazily, waving a bottle of booze to your face, saying "Eyy sup', want some?"
When you finally say the magic word, he suddenly goes blank.
Not like a 'mind-blank' type of blank, but his face suddenly goes blank. All the shine in his eyes, his smiles, vanish into the void.
Honestly, this will make you feel afraid. Did you anger him? Did he not feel the same?
He suddenly picked up his phone and made a call to someone with a low whispering tone, too low for you to hear anything, and walked away. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.
But before you could think of any worst-case scenarios, a bunch of his goons suddenly barge into the room bringing... party popper???
Delisaster finally comes back being brought in by his goons... on a sedan chair???
At least, you're now relieved because he's now giving you a wide smile. A bit too wide. Scrap that- now you're creeped out.
Before you could ask about what the hell was going on, all of his goons popped the party popper, and a bunch of pink-shaded confetti flew across the room. Good luck seeing anything at all.
As soon as you're able to scrap off any of the confetti that is stuck on your face, you've now realized that the confetti is shaped into a heart. Kinda cute tbh.
And out of nowhere, he's already in front of you. Smiling wide, hugging you tight, laughing maniacally.
"YAHOOOOOOOO A CHICK LOVES MEEHEHEHE-" rip your ears.
All of the goons that surround you are now crying for some damn reason, passing a box of tissues around. Is this a wedding?
Finally calming down, Delisaster finally leans back to take a look at your face. Now you can see that his smile is so gentle and he's looking at you oh so fondly.
He's caressing your face as if you're made of glass, and this is the most gentle and affectionate you've ever seen him. Usually, he's a menace to society
"I know I never really made you feel easy around me, especially with my reputation and all... not even my brothers can stand me... I don't even know if I deserve you," his voice breaks slightly as he leans closer your ear, "But you made me the happiest man, and I can never thank you enough for that... I love you too, baby."
... That would be so romantic if only the goons around you aren't screaming an ugly-ass cry, with the sound of snots being sniffed as ambience.
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D O M I N A B L O W E L I V E 💧
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He chokes on his apple juice, almost snorting liquid through his nose when you suddenly come up to him and say those.
"W-what do you mean??" he stammers with his face now as vibrant as his hair, eyes shaky as they darted around to avoid your gaze. "Do... do you even understand what you're saying? how serious that word is??"
Man is so melodramatic, but you can't blame him. All his life he believes that any form of endearment given to someone means that there is any ulterior motives behind it and things such as 'pure love' is just a thing from a fantasy book.
You are fully aware of his upbringing, so you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't believe you right away.
What you didn't expect though is for him to go into full-teacher mode and info-dumping you about the definition of love.
He deadass mansplaining 'Love' to you by citing sources from dictionaries, biology, and psychology studies.
He's so academically smart and his brain is like a walking dictionary but he's misusing it in such a weird way.
After he's done with his rant explanation that who knows how long it is, he'll avert his gaze from yours. He's panting slightly as he broke in with his question, "Now that you understand, next time don't say those words so easily to someone," he huffed slightly and crossed his arms, "It's not like I've ever done anything to you that warrants something such as that, you know."
Okay, now that understandably pissed you off. So it's now your turn to go on full-tangent on why you love him, what you love about him, how you didn't need him to do anything for you to love him, and about how his view of love is full of shit.
And now it's his turn to be bewildered. Your outburst has effectively overwhelming his heart with warmness that he never felt before in his life.
By the time you're done his face that is previously tinted pink now goes scarlet red. His mouth is agape and shaking slightly like a fish in the open air, and all of the retort he intended to throw is stuck in his throat.
Domina_Blowelive.exe stopped working lol.
"Whatever! You're stupid anyway," is the only counter he could throw back at you, and Gods he hate how weak that ended up coming out from his mouth.
Before you could say anything back to him he already turned his back and stomped away from you, huffing and mumbling profanities.
He's so embarassed that he didn't pay any attention to his path and ended up turning left a bit too early, and slamming his head onto the wall.
If Levis and the gang are around to see that, they'll not be alive for long lol.
You're the only one who could make the top students of the prestigious magic school Walkis Academy turn into a cuckoo mess. Congratulations!
It will take you a while for him to finally believe and accept your feelings. Even so, you didn't need him to say anything to know that he feels the same way.
His journey to recovery is still long ahead, he needs more time to unpack those childhood trauma that led him to become the person that he was. But I swear it will be worth it.
Please be patient with him ♥
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C E L L W A R 💎
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"What do you want now?" he said as he stared at you with an exhausted look on his face, checking you out to figure out your intention based on body language alone.
Because that's the only reason for his whole existence in this world, right? to give and to serve?
You repeated your confession, and now he stares at you dumbfounded. He narrowed his eyes and exhaled in frustration as he ruffled your hair slightly.
"Don't say such a useless thing next time. It's a burden."
Yeouwch that comes out wrong doesn't it?
Even though what he means by that is that it is useless for YOU to love HIM, and it will only burden YOU to love HIM.
But what do you expect? he survives his whole life in the attendance of Innocent Zero's deranged family by belittling himself down, doing all the nuisance and humiliating tasks to stroke Innocent Zero's children's ego. what a bunch of manchild.
Being negative and blunt comes as a second nature to him.
But then again, now you're hurt. What makes it worse is that before you can ask him to clarify what he means he's already out of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
He realizes that you seem like you're about to cry before he goes, and he can feel his heart ache to see you making that expression. Then again, what he said is not exactly wrong, right?
He's only realized what he did when Delisaster waltzing to him out of nowhere, whistling towards him and teasing him about "being so cold to your booboo."
He can feel his soul draining out of his body as he listens to Delisaster's explanation that is filled with a bunch of degrading mockery because let me remind you again he's a menace.
Delisaster finally saunters off somewhere else. Cell takes this short amount of time to his advantage and goes hell-bent on finding you.
The maid and butler that come past him are confused because they never see Cell that mortified.
Upon finding you, he wastes no time and lunges towards you on instinct, effectively tackling you to the ground as if he's a bounty hunter. But he made sure to hug your head before it slammed to the ground, burying it in his chest.
His mind goes blank at the sudden closeness and now he has no games. Honestly, he didn't know what to say either even if his mind did not go blank. Man really had no games.
But he still tries his best, like he always does. He leans back slightly while still pining you down, staring at you with eyes wavering, a mixture of anxiousness and affection.
"I... just realized I worded it wrongly before..." he stated hesitantly as a start as he proceeded to explain his thought process, "Honestly, I don't know if I should even be indulging in these feelings... I have my master to serve, and I'm afraid you will get hurt if he finds out."
His mouth clumsily formed into a thin smile, his hand reaches towards your hair, twirling it on his finger and taking a mental note of how soft it was, "But, to answer yours... I feel the same, and always has been."
The smile that grows on your face makes his world stop for a moment. Stunning him into silence as he stares into your eyes that is full of life and affection. His mind then wanders, imagining things that a tool like him should have no right to dream of.
'Wouldn't it be so nice... if I could live a normal life with you?'
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I'll be ending this prompt right here and move on to the next one I had in mind (I'm currently in Mash's brother hyper-fixation phases and will be writing tons of them in the future lol). But if you want me to write about this hcs more for other character feel free to request one as long as the ask is open!
Thank you for reading!🍀
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writemekpop · 8 months
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Lost Cause | Jung Jaehyun
Summary: You decide to give your ex Jaehyun a second chance. Is there time to rescue your relationship?
Genre: Angst, ex boyfriend AU
Word Count: 1k
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As soon as you walked into the little Italian place, you spotted Jaehyun. 
He was stunning in his simple black suit, shadows falling under his glorious cheekbones. A flood of emotions – desire, hurt, anxiety – rushed through you when you saw him. 
“Uh… hi,” you said, sitting opposite to him. 
Jaehyun held out a glass. “Bailey’s still your favourite?”
To be honest, you’d stopped drinking Bailey’s two years ago – after you broke up with Jaehyun. 
“Sure,” you shrugged. 
Jaehyun tried to hand you the drink, but his hand shook so much it spilled on his sleeve. 
“Damn it,” he cursed. “Honestly, I’m… super nervous. It’s not every day you go on a first date with your ex.” 
“I’m nervous too,” you said, and you both chuckled, relaxing a little. 
Jaehyun grinned. “Why don’t we just pretend it really is a first date?” He held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Jaehyun. Nice to meet you.” “Hi, Jaebeom, is it?” you said, making Jaehyun laugh. “You look great.” 
“You too,” Jaehyun said, taking your hand in his and tracing your palm lines with his finger. Your heart began to race at the touch, familiar yet unfamiliar.  
“You know, I’m a model.” Jaehyun said. “We have this saying that the perfect face doesn’t exist. But, uh, clearly, the people who came up with that have never met you.” You fought a smile. “Well, I am a biology lecturer,” you added. “And evolutionarily speaking, we are hardwired to desire taller and stronger people. So, the girls must be all over you.” Jaehyun grinned. “Although, you know, evolution is only one theory. I think we have to consider creation, too.”
You snorted. 
“What?” Jaehyun said, removing his hand from yours.  
“Nothing,” you said, smoothing your dress. “I just forgot that you believe in wacko theories like that.” 
Jaehyun stared at you. “Excuse me?” 
You sighed. “No, look, I don’t have a problem with it. It’s cute.” 
“Oh, please,” Jaehyun said. “By cute, you mean that your boyfriend is dumb, but you don’t care because I’m pretty?” 
“I never said you were dumb!” you exclaimed. 
Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “I know why you didn’t invite me to those conferences. You didn’t want your fancy university friends to realise you had a stupid boyfriend.” He sniffed. “Well, you should feel lucky to get a guy like me.”
You rolled your eyes, lying back in your chair. “This again! You think I’m some ugly nerd who doesn’t deserve a boyfriend as gorgeous as you.” Jaehyun frowned. “That’s not fair.”
You shook your head. “You know what I always thought? If there are so many girls throwing themselves at you, why don’t you just sleep with one of them?” You laughed. “Oh wait. You did. You slept with your agent, for crying out loud.” Jaehyun pushed out his chair. “What was I meant to do? I had a girlfriend who was so busy with work I knew her Whatsapp profile picture better than her!”  
“At least I have a career!” you huffed. “All your little ‘modelling’ gigs got us was red letters from the bank!” 
Jaehyun rubbed his eyes. “What is happening to us?” You fell into your chair. “I’m sorry, Jaehyun. It was stupid of me to think that we could get back together.”
You sat in exhausted silence until the next round of drinks came.
“It wasn’t stupid.” Jaehyun said, taking your hand. “You were the love of my life.” You felt a twinge in your chest, pain or love or both. “You were mine, too,” you admitted.
You leaned forward and kissed Jaehyun, your hand gripping his hair, throwing yourself into it completely. 
The kiss wasn’t bad. It was gentle. Jaehyun’s lips were soft. But something, some spark was missing. It was like both of you were playing along without really feeling anything. You slowly pulled away. 
“That was…” Jaehyun started. 
“Awful,” you finished, cracking a smile. 
“Terrible,” Jaehyun agreed, with a chuckle. “Maybe it’s too late for us to start again. We’re… ancient history.” 
Although his words hurt, you knew they were true. “Well, will you share this drink with an old friend?” you asked, lifting your glass. 
Jaehyun raised his glass as well. “To old friends.”
“To old friends,” you said.   
MAIN MASTERLIST
Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋
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sp0o0kylights · 1 year
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He can see it in Eddie’s face. 
Steve can't help it but laugh. "Are we gonna get through a date where you don't spend half of it trying to escape?"
Eddie looks startled, but gives a shaky laugh. "You can see that, huh?"
Steve reaches out, wraps a finger around a curl.
Let's it go slowly, gently.
Admires the neon shade of red Eddie's face has just gone. 
"You're pretty obvious about it, Eds."
Eddie laughs at that, but it's self depreciating. He keeps his eyes glued to the glovebox playing with his rings. 
"Look just--don't laugh, alright?" 
"I won't." Steve agrees and let's the playful tone drop from his voice.
Whatever this was, Eddie was serious--and that meant he deserves to be taken seriously. 
"Hey." He prods gently. "I mean it."
Eddie jerks his head in a quick nod, before giving another painful smile. "I uh, I didn't think I'd get this far. Never have, you know? Not with--"
He cuts a glance at Steve out of the corner of his eye, words faltering.
"A guy?" Steve guessed. 
Eddie snorts, an ugly sound. "Someone like you, Steve. Rich, darling of the town, world's best babysitter."
He shakes his head before quietly adding, "--and yeah. A guy." 
"You're my first, you know." Steve says conversationally and frowns when Eddie sucks on a breath.
Harsh and fast, like he's been punched.
'Don't--don't tell me that, man, fuck." Eddie scrubs a hand down his face.
Hides in it for a minute, before dropping his hand back to his lap.
"Sorry. I just. I Really, really don't want to be another persons experiment, or one night stand or fucking, passing ship in the night or whatever. I don't want to be a regret." He turns, looks at Steve.
Shows him the terror that lurks in his eyes. 
"Cards on the table? I like you a lot, Steve. Have for a while. Mooned over you in school just as bad as those chicks from Spanish class." 
Steve stays quiet. Somehow knows Eddie isn't done, that he needs to wait. 
Even if he smiles at the Spanish class comment. 
"You were the straightest dude I've ever met and now here you are, taking me out on dates?"
Eddie laughs harshly. Like he can't believe he's even daring to say it, let alone believe it's happening. 
"You gotta tell me if this is fake. Or--or some kind of lapse in sanity on your part. It's not--it's not fair, if this isn't serious." 
Steve slowly leans in, bumps his forehead against Eddie's. Draws a curl around his finger once again.
"I'm here." He whispers calmly. “And I'm very serious.”
“You promise?”
“On Dustin’s mother's life.” Steve agrees, just to hear Eddie huff a laugh.
Follows it with; On my own life too.” 
Then seals the deal, with a kiss.
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fandxmslxt69 · 9 months
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Loki (TV) - Speak Now(TV): Enchanted
Loki Laufeyson x f!asgardian!reader
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Warnings: some swearing, few thoughts of insecurity, but that';s it. Bad writing lmao. horrible plot too. lazy makeouts too.
Synopsis: You escape to the royal gardens after a shitty start to the ball, but running into an enchanting stranger turns your night for the better. Based on Enchanted by Taylor Swift. Part of a series In The Works.
A/N: Wow this is so bad lmaooo I'll fix it another time but I'm posting it now so I can get into the schedule and be done with!! This is my little very rushed entry for @sarahscribbles Birthday Celebration I LOVE YOU SARAH and you deserve SO MUCH BETTER than this lmao i had so much more planned for this but sadly it all failed with having no wifi this entire vaca, so this is the best I can do. I do promise a part two some time though.
Tags: (I';m tagging everyone who asked to be tagged for this part AND part 2 so I have everyone in one place <3) @divine-knight-hand @the-fox-den @nyxlaufeyson @under00s616 @mischief2sarawr and ofc @sarahscribbles
Word count: 3.5k
There I was again tonight
Forcing laughter, faking smiles
Same old tired, lonely place
The night, in conclusion, was an utter failure. You had been truly excited as the weeks neared to tonight’s ball. You had hoped for an evening full of dancing and laughs, twirling around in the arms of a handsome guy and enjoying light conversation, maybe even some good food.
So far, the food was the only thing that held out. 
You watched from your corner as pairs danced across the floor as music and easy chatter filled the room. Women in dresses of all colours of the rainbow, and men in nicely fitted suits and uniforms. Everyone wore masks, elegant and with elaborate designs that complemented each person’s attire. “This is a waste.” You grumbled to yourself as you tugged at your mask to adjust it in place.
“Perhaps,” One of your friend’s slid into the vacant seat beside you, face flushed from dancing. “You should go ask someone for a dance,” “What?” You snorted. “That’s an ugly look. It’ll seem like I’m desperate,”
“But you are,” She pointed out. 
You rolled your eyes, picking at the plate of fruit delicacies in front of you. “It’s alright. I don’t feel like dancing anyway,” She raised an eyebrow, “Were you not talking about how excited you were to spend all night dancing just this morning?” You threw her a look, getting up without bothering to finish your plate. “I think I’ll go for a walk in the gardens,” You said as you quickly fled out of the room.
Being out of the stuffed ballroom should have made you feel better, but you couldn’t help but feel as if you were still caged. 
Tonight was meant to be fun. It was meant to be an opportunity. For..for socialising, and meeting people, and making friends and, funnily you thought, perhaps meet someone for the night. 
Instead, you walked further through the gardens, trying to ignore all the giggles you heard from lovesick couples as you passed them. When you got further enough from the palace, you slipped off your mask, huffing as you carefully sat down in the wide fields, surrounded by blooming flowers and trees basking in the moonlight. 
You took a deep breath, trying to ease the sense of disappointment that grew like an ugly beast in your chest. Caught up in your feelings, you hadn’t realised someone snuck up on you until you heard a soft crunch from behind you. Your head whipped around immediately, assuming a danger perhaps, until your eyes fell on the man. 
Good gods. 
The man smiled briefly, his mask dangling from his fingers as he seemed to look you over. His hair rested in dark curls on his shoulders, and with the way the moon peeked lightly through the trees and shone on him, he looked heavenly, with a perfect jawline and flawless skin, cheekbones that looked sharp to cut, and eyes that shone with curiosity and mischief.  He fit nicely into his suit, with a lean frame that filled the clothing perfectly. 
He was, as mortals said, a work of art. A being artists and sculptures would surely sell their homes and families to try and capture his beauty. 
I need to calm down.
But he’s gorgeous. There was no hiding it, and you were absolutely sure you stared too long because he raised an eyebrow and the corner of his lips twitched upwards.
Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy
Vanished when I saw your face
All I can say is, it was enchanting to meet you
“Sorry,” You muttered quickly, turning your head back to stare holes at the vast openings of the field. This had to be a joke, but a little part of your brain couldn’t help but get excited. 
Handsome young man, a moonlit gorgeous garden, at a ball. 
Could it get any more romantic? 
But that was stupid- the man probably found you a little pathetic, out here all alone rather than enjoying the ball. And you firmly reminded yourself that there would be no making out and naked activities in the royal gardens. And maybe your friend sent him, and if you were too eager you’d seem truly desperate and it would be oh so humiliating and you’d never be able to show your face again in public and-
“I see you’ve found my secret place,” His voice interrupted your spiral of thoughts. 
“Sorry,” You said quickly again. “I wasn’t aware that people could own areas of the royal garden,” You covered your hand with your mouth in horror, refusing to look at the man behind you.
What the fuck was that? 
It was quiet and then you heard him chuckle, as if amused by such a rude remark. He made his way to another part of the garden and took a seat. “You’re right, forgive me, it is open to everyone during the balls,”
You didn’t answer him, or even acknowledge him. Your cheeks were blazing red with horror. From the corner of your eye, you could see him sitting under a tree a little away from you, head ducked low as he…
Is that a book? Is he reading? At a ball? 
You looked behind you to the sound of the light music and chatter coming from the palace, then back at the man by the tree. “Why aren’t you inside?” 
“Why aren’t you inside?” He replied, not even looking up from his book. 
“I asked first,”
He looked up slightly then, raising a perfect eyebrow. So? He challenged silently. 
You rolled your eyes, turning away from him to watch the leaves dance lazily in the evening breeze. You folded and unfolded your hands in your lap. “I got bored of dancing,” Right. 
He didn’t answer right away, a few beats passed as soft music and gentle wind filled the space. Then, he said slowly, as if entertained by all this, “Liar,” 
Your head whirled back to stare at him. “Excuse me?” “Liar,” He said, shrugging like it’s no big deal.
“You’re calling me a liar?” “Is there anyone else here to call a liar?” You could see the small twitch of his lips, and how a little smirk forms as he watches you.
Shit. You had to fight down your own little smile. Perhaps he’s an ass, and maybe a little suspicious- but he’s got a lot more banter and brain in him than everyone else back in the ballroom. 
“And why are you calling me a liar?” 
“Because,” He closed his book dramatically, leaning forward and you could feel trouble radiating off of him. “No one comes to a royal ball to ‘get bored of dancing’,”
“You don’t know that,” “I absolutely do. It’s the biggest event of the year, people come specifically prepared to dance until they can’t feel their feet,” “Fine,” You huffed. “It was getting stuffy, and I was tired of all the war talk and gossip, so I came out here for fresh air,” 
Again, that stupid smirk. “You’re lying,” He said in an overly annoying sing-song voice. “I’m not!” You glared at him. “You are horribly rude,”
“Yet you find it amusing,” “I absolutely don’t,” Childishly, you stuck your tongue out at him, and he laughed, throwing his head back lightly and filling the space between you with such a warm, delightful sound. 
The playful conversation starts
Counter all your quick remarks
Like passing notes in secrecy
You really couldn’t stop the smile that broke across your face. “Alright then, if you suddenly know everything, why do you think I’m out here?” You asked after his laughter died down. 
“Hm…” He tapped a finger to his chin. “No one wanted to dance with you,” You gasped loudly. “Are you calling me undesirable?” “No m’lady,” He had that awfully cute smile again. “You said that, I just said I think no one wants to dance with you,”
You shook your head. “You are unbelievable! You know what, you’re terrible company,” He shrugged. “Then go back inside, perhaps get a chance to dance with the prince,” He said it easily, like he could care less if you stayed or left, but you had the strange feeling that he was challenging you to stay. 
You hummed, pretending to think it over. “You know what, I don’t want to go inside,” “But I thought I was terrible company?” “You are,” You smiled innocently. “But I like the gardens,” He’s too funny to pass up on. 
“Or perhaps you like me,” He had that shit-eating grin, and something in your chest started tingling, secretly hoping you could get more of his smiles. “Besides, you’ll pass up the chance to catch the crown prince’s attention just to sit in some garden?” “Blond isn’t really my type,” Stop talking stop talking stop talking. 
He frowned, staring at you weirdly, clearly taken aback but such a dumb statement. 
“Blond…isn’t your type,” He repeated, and you simply nodded. “So…you’d give up the chance at marrying the next ruler of this realm…because he’s blond,” “Exactly,” Like it made perfect sense. “What can I say? It’s less competition for the other women. I’m being kind,” 
“You’re insane,”
“You asked!”
“Yes but come on, it’s the crown prince,” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather marry the farmer’s son? The baker boy, perhaps?”
You rolled your eyes. “No, stupid. There’s other royalty around, obviously. But it’s not like anyone has a chance,” “Other royalty?” He got up then, gracefully making his way over with his book and mask in hand. He sat down beside you. “Do indulge me, what other royalty is there?” Holy. Shit. 
It took you a second to properly process his question. Maybe you lacked romance in your life, maybe you were too isolated, or maybe you were just really desperate for some decent conversation tonight, but you felt like you were losing your everloving mind.
He was breathtaking. You thought from afar he was beautiful, but now this close? You felt the air die in your throat as you properly looked over his face, your eyes catching on every detail. 
His sharp angles.
The exact green of his eyes- emerald, pretty much identical to the jewel. 
And the way he looked when the light shine of the moon hit his face? And the wind gently combed through his hair? He looked heavenly. 
Godly, even.
And it was enchanting to meet you
All I can say is, I was enchanted to meet you
You were definitely staring (again) and he turned to look at you, those pretty lips forming another stupid smirk. “Yes?” You looked away. “Nothing. What was the question?”
He chuckled. “What other royalty is there?” “Oh, yes,” You frowned. “Are you new around here?” “No, why?” “There’s two princes. Prince Thor, and prince Loki,” “Ah right,” He pursed his lips. “But only one is looking for a bride,” “Yes well, all princes must eventually find a partner, no?” He shrugged. “I suppose so. So, if you won’t go for the blond, you’ll go for his brother? Woo him with your snarky comments and strange conversation habits?”
You smacked his arm lightly. “You really do not know how to talk to a lady. And no one ever said I’m “going for” anyone’s brother. I don’t want to marry a prince,” “That is the biggest lie I have ever heard,” He pointed at you accusingly. “Everyone wants to marry royalty,” 
“Nope,” You shook your head. “Not me,” But you could tell from the way his eyes shone with mischief and the smile on his lips that he could so easily read through you. 
“So you don’t have epic fantasy daydreams about marrying a handsome prince and gaining status, riches and power and living in the palace? Absolutely none about becoming royalty of Asgard? Nothing?” 
“Weeellll,” You smiled wide. “Perhaps,” “Was he blond, your prince?” “I just told you, I’m not into blonds,” He nodded, like this was absolutely serious and he was understanding it better. “Right, so you had dreams about prince Loki then,” “What?!” Your eyes widened. “I didn’t say that!” “You hinted at it,” He pointed out.
“You- I did not! You are so arrogant, thinking you know everything!” You glared at him, face flushed from his accusation. I don’t even know why I’m even having this conversation with a strange man I met less than 10 minutes ago,” You plucked a flower from nearby and started plucking off the petals one by one, watching them slowly fall onto your skirt. “You think you’re so smart and you make horrible accusations-” “Why are you getting so defensive?” He sounded amused by this.
“I’m not!” You definitely were. “You’re just getting on my nerve,” You turned to glare at him again, but he had a funny look on his face, he didn’t even look upset, or confused, or insulted. He was simply…..looking at you. “I think you need to work on your manners,” “And I think you’re beautiful,” He said suddenly as he leaned in, the words a soft whisper, a secret shared between two strangers hidden away from the world.
You felt your face heat up, and your heart started beating faster. A swarm of butterflies erupted in your stomach, and you suddenly had the urge to fall back and kick your feet in the air while giggling. 
Oh. Oh. Oh. 
“Oh..um, oh,” You laughed nervously, looking down shyly. But you could still feel his eyes on you, his face close enough that you can see his bottom lashes brush his cheek lightly, and the small movements of his face. “Thank...you. Thank you,” You swallowed hard. “You’re…uh, really beautiful too,” You rushed the words out. You looked up a little to see his green eyes widened a fraction, a little smile tugging at his lips, and then the faintest colour red dusting his cheeks. 
“Thank you,” 
You nodded dumbly and looked away again, biting your lip to keep the laugh bubbling inside of you to stay down. 
“What’s so funny?” He whispered. 
Fuuck. You could feel yourself panic a little. He was so close. So pretty too. How could a man be so pretty? He had to be magic, right? He’s too gorgeous to be anything less than ethereal. 
“Nothing,” You paused, biting your lip harder before a smile broke across your face, and a light laugh escaped you. “Sorry, sorry nothing’s funny,” His face broke into a smile. “You know, it’s rather rude to laugh at someone and avoid eye contact. It insinuates that you’re laughing at me,” His tone was teasing.
“I’m not!” You laughed again, shaking your head. “I’m not. Laughing at you, that is,” “Then look at me,” His finger lifted your chin up, and you sucked in a breath at how close you were. A few hairs apart, his pretty eyes looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and insides melt to goo. And that smile. 
You felt your chest squeeze with a sense of familiarity. That smile…it’s familiar, like you’ve seen it before a million times but yet, you can’t place where. 
“I…” You started, and his eyes fell to your lips. “I want to kiss you,” He declared suddenly, and you swore the earth danced faster. 
“Kiss me then,” You replied, and just as fast, his lips fell lazily to yours. 
This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go
I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home
There were no good enough words that could describe how his lips felt against yours. In the back of your mind, you grabbed desperately at the languages you know, mortal and beyond, to find something to put this in words, a phrase, a string of letters, to explain the feeling of melting completely at his touch. 
His soft lips moved slowly against yours, his hand moved up to cup the side of your face and pull you closer. It wasn’t a heated or lustful kiss, nor overly passionate. More of…a gentle caress, a lazy press of plush lips against yours in a pretty garden under the moonlight. He pulled away just as fast, his eyes searched your face.
You were…breathless. It was the most simple kiss and yet, it seemed to have turned your world upside down. Your mind was empty, yet at the same time it spun a million miles an hour but with no coherent things.
Just the thought of him. His lips. His kiss. His pretty eyes and perfect face and gentle hands. Your heart stuttered. You couldn’t help but think, if you went a lifetime without another kiss like that? You might go insane. You’d rather him kill you. Death would be better, more merciful than knowing you’d never experience this again. 
There it was. 
“Ya’aburnee,” You muttered softly, and when his eyes snapped up from staring at your lips to your eyes, you realised you said that out loud.
“What?” “Nothing,” You shook your head. “Nothing,” “Not nothing,” He moved closer, your knees now touching and you felt the renewed need to kiss him. “What did you say?” “A word,” Your eyes fell to his lips. 
“Mm,” He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut and brushing his lips against yours. “What does it mean?” “Um,” You felt a hazy rush course through you, and you couldn’t form proper words. “I don’t know,” You lied quickly, chasing after his lips. 
A look flashed across his face, as if he knew you were lying, before it disappeared. He pressed his lips against yours again and you sighed happily. He kissed you deeper, his tongue slipping into your mouth and suddenly, you were both all over each other. 
He pulled you onto his lap, your dress bunching up at your thighs as you straddled him, your kisses growing sloppy as your tongues tangled together and your breathing got heavier and turned into heated pants. His hands tugged at your hair, and yours ran through his soft curls, making their way down over his shoulders and down his chest, searching and feeling the clearly built body underneath. 
You pulled away after a few minutes, eyes searching his face. His now slightly bruised, and the flush of his cheeks and the wildness of his eyes. He smiled softly and your heart did another flip. He opened his mouth to say something before snapping it shut, a frown forming on his face as his eyes wandered to stare behind you. 
You shifted around to turn. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” His hands fell to your hips. “Just…do you hear that?”
You frowned then too, straining your ears to listen. 
“No…? What are we-...oh.” You heard the soft ticking of the palace clock, and the soft slow instrumental signalling the last dance of the night. “Oh. I guess we lost track of the hour,” He hummed. “Yes, it does seem so,” He paused, as if thinking something over before smiling. “Dance with me,”
Your eyes widened. “What?” “Dance with me,” He repeated again. “You didn’t get a dance tonight, did you? Well, let’s fix it.” “But we’re all the way out here,” You stated dumbly. 
He raised a perfect eyebrow. “And?” “I-...well…I mean-...” He stared at you intensely, his emerald eyes searching your face. You sighed, shaking your head. “Okay,” You finally gave in, because with the way he looked at you there was no way you could’ve said no anyway. 
You got up off of him, dusting off your dress and patting back into place. When he got up and you caught his face in the light of the moon, your heart soared at the smudges of lipstick on his lips and on the corners, you couldn’t help but give a satisfied smile. His hair fell in messy curls now and he needed a minute to adjust his suit. 
You softly patted down your hair, trying to fix the hair do and your appearance despite the lack of mirrors. 
He took a step towards you, holding out his hand. You took it and he pulled you flush against him and you had to strain your neck full up to meet his eyes. He grinned that same wicked smile and placed a hand on your waist as he carefully began dancing through the music with you. 
It was a magical experience, to be in this gorgeous garden and have the chance to dance away under the stars with a beautiful stranger. It felt straight out of a fairy tale. 
All too soon, the music faded and you could hear the faint sounds of clapping and cheers from the party guests. You looked around, then back up at your pretty stranger with a small smile. “That was fun,” You whispered, as if scared that too loud of a noise would shatter this delicate moment. 
“Mm, very much,” He smiled back softly, his other hand dropping to rest on your hips. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours and you felt that lazy hazy cloud over you again. “We should get back,” He mumbled between kisses. 
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your lips to his. His smell was intoxicating, and the feel of him so close made you dizzy. “We should,” You muttered, before kissing him again. He fumbled with the fabric of your dress, but before he could even think of getting further you pulled away quickly, straining your ears to hear the far away noise of horses and loud chatter. 
Right. End of party. Oh god.
You looked back at him, a mournful ache coursing through you. “I have to get back,” He frowned. “What? Why? Stay here,” He pulled you closer but you only shook your head. “I can’t! I came with my family, they’ll be looking for me soon,” You reluctantly detached yourself from him and quickly worked to fix yourself up. He looked like he was about to argue, but he simply nodded. “Very well. I’ll…walk you back?” You grinned and nodded back. “Thank you,” You quickly grabbed your discarded purse and mask before linking your arm to his as he began to lead the way back, his mask swaying back and forth in his free hand. You snuck a few glances at him as you neared the palace, and you swore in the light of the surrounding palace area he seemed to almost…stiffen, and something slipped over his face. He looked so damn familiar, you cursed yourself for not being able to piece it together properly. You still felt dizzy from the eventful evening, and who could blame you? 
When you made it to the carriages and turned to face him, smiling a little nervously. “Bye I guess,” A small smile ghosted over his lips as he let go of your arm, his hands now resting behind his back as he stood in all his beautiful glory. You basked in his beauty for a few seconds more, before something in your mind clicked. 
There’s no fucking way. Your eyes widened, but you tried to keep your mind from spinning out of control. The way he stood now, the expression on his face- empty- but with eyes as wild as a storm, no wonder you thought he looked familiar. He held himself like royalty, he was regal and elegant and majestic in a way no other person could ever be. 
He was, in every sense, magical. 
You felt…enchanted by his presence, and you were sure you were staring. 
You swallowed hard, mentally calming yourself down from the fact that you’ll probably never experience this again. 
“Thank you for the dance, your highness,” You said as quickly and politely as possible. You caught sight of the way his eyes widened and his expression went from emotionless to absolute shock. You turned around and practically ran for your life towards your carriage, already spotting your friends waiting by. 
As you got into the carriage, greeting your friends and ignoring their very obvious questions, you felt a pang of sadness hit through you at the thought of the night ending, but then a bit of joy, because you just got to dance with the prince, and nothing would get more magical or enchanting than that. 
I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you
164 notes · View notes
spooky-bunnys · 11 months
Note
Can I make a request for that shion cat cause I saw that imagine and it was sooo adorable
Like the reader find that cat alone and decided to adopt him
And give the cat the love it deserve cause I’d imagine shion cat would’ve had a hard time being a stray
the reader is a sano sibling and while Shinichiro, mikey and Emma aren’t too fond of the cat cause I imagine shion cat being a bit in the dirty side due to being a stray for so long but will always behave because shion cat is terrified of being put back in the street
Okay. I had to add Izana into the Sano household because imagine the chaos! Hope you enjoy!
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The Sano siblings didn't know what to expect when (Name) came home late. They thought maybe he had been caught up with friends. Maybe he was helping an elderly around town again. Or maybe he was helping a kid find his missing parent.
No. When (Name) came home he was covered in dirt and mud and smelled horrible. But what caught their attention the most was the sleeping cat he was holding. Thats right. He came home late, with a cat.
"Um. Whatcha got there (Name)?" Shinichiro asked. Dumbfounded like the other two Sano siblings. (Name) grinned and showed off the filthy cat. "I found this cat! He was hard to catch, but when I did catch him, he fell right asleep in my arms. Isn't he cute?"
Mikey opened his mouth but Emma smacked him and Shinichiro coveted his mouth. "Absolutely bud. Why don't you and your new friend go take a bath okay? Mikey will call his buddy's and see what all the kitty will need okay?"
(Name) nodded excitedly and darted to the bathroom. After he left Shinichiro signed and ran a hand down his face. "Emma call Izana, warn him about the cat. Mikey call your cat friends and ask them what I'll need to get. And DON'T say anything bad while I'm out."
The two nodded and quickly got on it. Once he had the list, Shinichiro quickly went out to get the needed stuff while. Emma gave Mikey a look that said "don't fuck up" before heading to her room.
Mikey just shrugged and made himself comfortable on the couch. When (Name) came out of the bathroom, the cat followed right behind him. (Name) walked to the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle. The cat jumped onto the counter and stared.
(Name) got the memo and pulled a small bowl down, pouring half his bottle into the bowl. "There you guy bud." The cat purred and rubbed himself against (Name)'s cheek. Making the male laugh softly and give the cat some well deserved scratches.
When Izana came home he knew (Name) had brought home a cat. But he didn't know what it looked like. Now that he does he only had one thing to say. "That's the ugliest fucking cat I've ever seen."
(Name)'s faced dropped and Mikey snorted. Izana didn't stop there though. "Oh my god. It looks like Shion. Listen I already gotta deal with a human Shion. I don't wanna have to deal with a fucking cat version of him."
Mikey by now was laughing. (Name) had honestly looked like he was gonna cry. Of course neither brothers noticed it. Not until the cat hissed at them. Bringing both brothers attention to the teary eyed male. "I-I was hoping you g-guys would like him!"
(Name) quickly stood up, grabbed the cat, and locked himself in his room. Emma came out after hearing the slamming of (Name)'s door, seeing the two paled older brothers frozen in the living room.
"What did you two do!?" The two immediately began blaming each other. "Izana called (Name)'s cat fucking ugly, then started yelling at him for bringing it home!"
Emma stunned quickly turned to Izana. Who immediately retaliated. "Well Mikey laughed about it and made matters worse!" She turned to Mikey, who tried hiding behind the couch. "Oh wait till Shin-nii gets home!"
"I am home. What's going on?" Shinichiro walked into the living room. Arms full of bags and a worried expression on his face. "Where is (Name) and the cat?" Emma huffed and pointed to the males, who were now both trying to hide behind the couch.
"Shin-nii! Mikey and Izana made (Name) cry! He got upset and locked himself in his room!" Shinichiro pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. These kids were giving him so many grey hairs. He stared at the two.
"Explain your parts, and maybe you two won't get grounded." The two immediately started yelling over the other. Shinichiro raised his hand, making the two quiet before pointing at Mikey. "Izana called (Name)'s cat fucking ugly and then yelled at him because apparently the cat looks like one of his gang memebers."
Shinichiro ran a hand down his face and pointed to Izana. "Mikey laughed about it and made it worse." Shinichiro groaned. "I know I said state your case, and you two just snitch on each other. But you guys know how sensitive (Name) is. I mean he looked so happy to have that cat. He also apparently worked hard to catch it."
Shinichiro then glared at the two. "Now I went out and got what was needed for cats. So you BOTH are going to take them to (Name) and apologize to him." The two began to disagree until Emma spoke up. "I'll go ahead and text Kakucho and Takemichi that your guys dates for this weekend are canceled because you two are grounded."
The two quieted down, before slowly grabbing the bags, and making their way towards (Name)'s room. Once there Mikey knocked on the door. When the door opened, the room looked like it had been through a tornado. (Name) sniffles before poking his head out. Still holding the cat.
The two flinched at the sight of dried tears on (Name)'s face. "We brought the cat supplies." (Name) opened his door and allowed the two in. Once everything was set up and placed where it was needed, the boys apologized and (Name) forgave them.
Some things Sano siblings noticed over the next few weeks, was that 1. The cat was completely attached to (Name), and 2. The cat was extremely messy. It made messes everywhere. That (Name) took responsibility and cleaned up.
Which they knew a stray converting to an inside cat would take time and effort. But (Name) has truly surprised them with how responsible he's being for it. After the 3rd week of nothing but messes and chaos, the siblings expected (Name) to give up.
He didn't. Eventually the cat (which (Name) named Shion just to spite Izana), stopped making messes. Well it bothered Mikey and Izana after they would upset (Name). But other then that, Shion became a welcomed member in (Name)'s family.
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192 notes · View notes
z3rinn · 10 months
Text
# #. STRAWBERRY SHORTCAKE !!
featuring : aduece ( separate ) ! As a little treat for surving seven overblots you decide to make some strawberry shortcake !! but it seems as if your favorite first years want to help out ( or maybe they just want to eat it ... who knows at this point ? )
A mini scenario to get the writers block outta me ://
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It wasn't often that you got to bake. Being busy with the overblots, school work, and Grim usually took most of your time. That left you only with the nights. The deep darkness that relaxed your spirit and feelings. It was the only time you could truly let go and be yourself.
You wiped some frosting off your face, taking in the sight of the beautiful chocolate cake you had just created with a smile.
What you didn't expect however, in the middle of your peaceful night, was for a certain first year to walk into Ramshackle...
# #. ACE TRAPPOLA
“Mmm! That looks good!” A cheerful voice suddenly spoke from behind, snatching away the fork from your hand. A sigh left your lips, You didn’t even need to turn to know who was behind you. It hadn’t been the first time he’d interrupted you, and you’d doubted it’d be the last. “Ace. give me back my cake."
The heartslaybul boy just laughed, bringing the slice of chocolate to his stupidly smirking lips. “But I'm so hungry after basketball. Plus, we won! Don’t you think I deserve a treat for my hard work?” He teased, batting his eyelashes.
You sighed, nudging him away from your perfectly good cake, “Not really. If you're that hungry go eat Grim.” Ace stumbled back, pouting, yet a smile soon slithered on to his face.
“Ew no. He probably tastes like salted burnt rocks.”
You snorted at that. An ugly one.
It was quiet after that, silence soon enveloping the kitchen as you went back to your work. Too silent. You looked back at the boy, a smile forming on your lips as you watched him. He looked pretty resting on the kitchen counter. The moon casted a blue glow down his pretty face, making the heart around his eye appear to be a black color. His eyelashes seemed longer than usual, dusting over his cheeks all pretty like.
God it was so unfair how pretty this man was.
You sighed to yourself, Maybe you could spare a piece of cake for your pretty boy.
“Hey Ace, come eat this.”
His eyes fluttered open as you walked toward him, holding a small white plate in your hands. “Hm, what’s that?”
“Strawberry shortcake.” He stood up eyeing the piece of white and pink cake. You grabbed the fork, bringing it to his lips. “Say ahh.”
He laughed, opening his mouth in anticipation as you smiled. He chewed the spongy cake, eyes opening in surprise as he licked some of the cream off his lips. “Mmh, This is really good!”
“Heh, thank you. Like it?” The smile on your face grew as he nodded his head, a grin on his lips as his mouth opened once more for another bite.
You pushed the plate into him playfully, "Feed yourself!”
He grabbed your hand, whining with a pout on his face. “Awh, common prefect, my hands are too tired to work.” You just sighed, rolling your eyes at him. He responded with puppy eyes too much for you to handle. “Ugh fine… only a few bites though.”
# #. DEUCE SPADE
"Ah! Sorry, am I interrupting you?" A nervous voice spoke. You chuckled softly to yourself, already knowing who was there. Turning around, you were greeted by the face of Deuce Spade, a small, yet nervous smile on his face. "Sorry prefect, I didn't mean to barge in here haha.."
He held up a few bags in his hand, holding some baking supplies that Trey gave, along with some eggs from Sam's shop. He placed them on a clean side of the counter, slowly and discreetly (trying) to shuffle out of the kitchen. However, you could see how he was eyeing the chocolate cake you just made.
You laughed, taking his hands in yours as you dragged him back inside the room. "Don't worry, you can stay, want some cake?"
He flushed, embarrassed to be caught staring at the sweet treat. "No, I’m alright, thanks tho.” Another giggle escaped your lips, it was obvious he was feeling bad for even wanting some, knowing that you made them just for you to enjoy. You didn’t mind sharing with him, but you doubt he would listen.
“If you’d like, we could make another one together, it’d be fun!" You pulled him further into the kitchen, "besides, I have the perfect recipe."
You watched as Deuce flushed red, yet he made no move to get away. You gave him a sheet of paper, a recipe to your favorite strawberry shortcake. "Here, I'll show you how to make the batter, and you can mix it for me." He seemed oddly enthusiastic about that.
He followed your instructions perfectly, cracking the eggs a certain way, adding just the right amount of flour and vanilla extract. It was kind of funny seeing him so worked up over beating some eggs, he was mixing the batter like nobody's business! It caused you to laugh, until the batter started fling all over Ramshackles kitchen.
The two of you finally finished the mini cake, decorating it with little strawberries and fancy frosting. "Wow, this looks amazing!" He spoke breathlessly, stars in his eyes as he admired your work.
You took a fork full of the sweet treat, placing it in front of Deuce's mouth. It took a second for him to register it, but once he did, his face bloomed red. A giggle left your lips as you waved it around his face, "Come on, say ahh."
He took your hand in his, placing the cake in his mouth. His eyes sparkled in delight, and soon you were giving him another slice.
"Heh, I'm glad you both liked it."
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sugoi-and-spice · 7 months
Note
Do you think we can get a little snippet of shigaraki and spinners drunken conversation about mc? 🫣
Ummm, YESSS?!?!
(Side note, this ended up being a lot more poignant and plot-relevant then I expected so I'll probably clean it up a bit and make it an official half chapter or something.)
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“She’s too good for me.”
“That’s true.”
“She should be with Mirio.”
“Oh fuck that!”
“No, she should!”
“Shigaraki.”
Iguchi and Shigaraki laid on the floor, bodies in different directions but heads side by side. They’d long abandoned their controllers, their drivers stuck against a fence and parked in a patch of grass mid-Moo Moo Meadows respectively, as they became far too engrossed in their conversation and intoxication to proceed. If Iguchi had been still holding his controller though, he would’ve promptly thrown it at his friend for the way he was talking.
“It’s true, it’s true! They have so much more in common!” Shigaraki whined, genuinely whined.
“Like what?” Iguchi demanded.
“They both swim. They both have muscles. They’re both pretty…”
“All superficial stuff, man—”
“—and their brains aren’t all fucked.”
“Have you seen the way she laughs during horror movies? I don’t know if that’s entirely true.”
“I’m fucking serious, Spinner. You know me. You know I’m never gonna get better. Not really.”
Iguchi frowned. Because that wasn’t true. He’d seen such amazing improvement from Shigaraki in the last couple months, such a vast development of care, self-awareness, and empathy. He’d come a long long way.
But also, it wasn’t entirely untrue either.
There was something fundamentally broken inside of Tomura Shigaraki. Something that went beyond the warped way he’d been raised and lessons he’d been taught, beyond the abuse and trauma he’d suffered as a child. This was something that had to do with the way he was wired, the way he was born and how he felt things. Iguchi was similar in a lot of ways. And it took a certain level of medical intervention and SSRI’s to get him to a point where he could even start to function. He’d needed serious help, Shigaraki needed serious help.
Iguchi couldn’t say any of that to him though. He couldn’t recommend therapy or medication or support groups, it’d all be rejected, just as it had been many times before. Because even if Shigaraki wanted it, that was a help that All for One would never allow him to find.
So, Iguchi back-tracked to a more fixable problem.
“You’ve said it yourself, Shigaraki. They’re not right together. He stifles her,” Iguchi said, “Even if she’s trying to make things work with Mirio right now, it’s not gonna last forever. She’s a smart person, she’ll know to throw in the towel eventually.”
Shigaraki snorted, “And then what?”
“And then you make your move.”
He shook his head, “No. No even if they break up, I don’t think I can.”
“What’re you, stupid?!” Iguchi demanded, the vodka redbulls shoving his fuzzy irritation to the forefront, “Why the hell wouldn’t you give it an actual try then?!”
“Cause she’s too fucking good for me!” Shigaraki drunkenly wailed.
Iguchi groaned, sitting up so he could take a LARGE gulp of his drink. Shigaraki often made him feel like he needed a drink, but he was testing his nerves now more than ever with this woe as me schtick. Especially since he knew that Shigaraki was gonna pursue her in some stupidly roundabout way anyway.
“She deserves someone healthy. Someone who’s not gonna hurt her,” he turned to look up at Iguchi then, “You should date her.”
Iguchi choked on his drink.
“W-What?! Me?!” he coughed and sputtered.
“Yeah. You guys have way more in common anyway. You like to game and workout. Your parents are both normal, but like, weird, you know?” Shigaraki looked back down to the carpet at his eye level, getting to the real point, “And you’d be good for each other. To each other. Better than I’ve ever been to either of you.”
“That could never happen.”
“Nah, nah, I think she’d go for you! You may be ugly, but she doesn’t care about stuff like that.”
“Dick! That’s not what I meant!” Iguchi snapped with an angry blush, wondering if he should even bother to comfort this bastard after saying something like that.
But then Shigaraki looked up at him with that childlike curiosity of his, and Iguchi couldn’t help but continue.
“I mean that I’d never do that to you. And neither would she.”
Shigaraki snorted, “Why? I’d do it to you.”
Iguchi cocked a brow at him.
“You sure about that?”
Shigaraki’s eyes narrowed, in a way that was clearly meant to be challenging, but was really more poutlike in his whiney drunken state. 
When Iguchi didn’t back down like he expected, Shigaraki just rolled over onto his side with some grumpy grumbling of something like “you don’t know. You don’t know what I’d do.”
Iguchi just chuckled and grabbed Shigaraki’s solo cup, filling it with water this time rather than vodka. 
“...I’m gonna miss those skirts of hers when she goes to college.”
“She wears skirts in her day to day too, doesn’t she?” Iguchi asked, waving the cup in front of Shigaraki’s face.
“They’re not the same,” Shigaraki whined, leaning forward to take a sniff, shaking his head when he smelt the lack of alcohol, “They should make those skirts mandatory at Todai!”
Iguchi nudged him with it insistently, “Yeah. Yeah they should.”
“I’ll get Sensei to do something about it!”“If you remember to do that after this, I’ll wear one of those skirts.”
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