#{ you can fry your brain for all I care }

[godfreyr]

Who’s in for a smoke break?

[hoshifighting]

seventeen reaction to you calling them unemployed when they ask you to talk dirty to them

WARNINGS: pure crack, i luv this brazilian joke btw

seungcheol: “call me something dirty babe” he growls, “okay, unemployed.” bro stops mid-thrust “what the—i work so hard!” and he’s genuinely sulking about it the rest of the night, muttering, “unemployed? seriously?”

jeonghan: “say something nasty to me,” he purrs, smirking because he thinks he’s got this in the bag. you deadpan: “unemployed.” “unemployed? you did not just go there—i’m on the grind!” and suddenly he’s in a full TED Talk defending his work ethic.

joshua: he blinks, utterly scandalized. “but—i have a job!” he squeaks, sitting up making it all look like a sit com, like he needs to show you his resume or something.

junhui: bursts out laughing so hard he falls off the bed, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezing, “unemployed? oh my god—i wasn’t ready. never had my career insulted before,”

hoshi: “hey! i work very hard, you know!” and spends the next ten minutes rambling about how busy he is, totally breaking the mood.

woozi: he just stares, deadpan, for a solid five seconds. “…did you just call me unemployed?” he’s too stunned to even be offended, wondering if he heard you right. when he realizes you did, he laughs, shaking his head, saying, “you’re lucky i like you enough to let that slide.”

wonwoo: bro gets soft so fast that nothing will make him hard again this night. stares at you, like, excuse me? he was expecting something a little dirtier, not a career counseling session. then he starts laughing, trying to act mad but totally failing.

minghao: he squints, looks at you like he’s analyzing this insult on a philosophical level, then goes, “... hey! did you know that the capitalism—”

mingyu: “what?! i work out every day!” he insists, as if that’s somehow related, suddenly very invested in proving himself to you.

seokmin: his jaw drops, and he looks insulted, like you just ruined his day. “unemployed?! i’m in a band! i sing! i work so hard!” he’s practically listing out his schedule to defend himself as he pouts.

seungkwan: gives you a scandalized look. “UNEMPLOYED?! do you know how much i work, huh? the hours i put in taking care of those idiots??” laughing too hard to keep it up.

vernon: he side eyes you even though you're in front of him. processing it, like—ih his ear blocked or sum?, then just starts laughing, like, “ya! just because i don't know how to use powerpoint?.” shakes his head like he can’t believe you’d pull that on him, but he probably falls in love harder.

chan: bro is so confused you can her his brain frying, looking at you like, “but i work, though? i’m in a group??” ends up cracking as your mouth twitches up.

[slayfics]

Katsuki holds your hand.

1,100 words~

You adjusted to get more comfortable on the couch while the boys continued their conversation about today's training.

"If you ask me, we really showed what Class 1A can do today, that's all I'm saying," Denki said concluding his point.

"I agree everyone did their best today," Hanta said nodding.

Katsuki came into the common room and made his way over to join the conversation. He sat down at the furthest possible spot away from you on the couch. Even though you two had been in some type of undefined relationship for a while, he never showed any indication of it around others.

You rolled your eyes at his decision to sit so far away from you.

"Oh, hey Kacchan, we were just talking about how awesome everyone was in the training today. Especially me with my smart thinking~," Denki said with his usual sly smile.

"Tch- you're really thinking a lot of yourself after that aren't you?" Katsuki huffed out.

"Hey come on, you guys are always making fun of me for being dumb so- I gotta gloat my wins when I can, right?" Denki responded.

"Awe Kaminari~ we only make fun of you because that face you make when you fry your brain is so cute~," you said leaning over to pinch his cheek.

"Hey cut it out!" He exclaimed and swatted your hand away, a bright red blush illuminating his face.

Katsuki grunted and got up walking back to the elevator for the dorm rooms.

"You're leaving already?! You just got here man!" Eijiro called after him.

"Yeah, it's late," he said without turning around and continuing to walk to the elevators.

You jumped up and followed him to the elevator. The boys eyed you but didn't say anything and continued their conversation.

"The hell are you following me for?" Katsuki asked grumpily pressing the elevator button.

"No way you're going to bed, it's too early even for you," you observed.

The elevator opened and you both stepped in, "What do you care? Just go back," he spoke, waiting for you to exit, but instead you leaned over and pressed the button to his floor.

The elevator closed giving you both some privacy, "Why don't you just say you're jealous?" You asked bluntly, turning to Katsuki.

"HA?!" he exclaimed, turning to you, fury in his eyes.

"Come on you think that wasn't obvious? You got up as soon as I made that flirty comment at Kaminari," You challenged him.

The elevator opened up to his floor and Katsuki stormed out.

"Don't ignore me!" You yelled following after him.

Katsuki opened his dorm door and let out an annoyed huff of air when you slipped in under his arm.

"You can't run away from me you know," You declared. Katsuki angrily slammed his door and pulled your wrist up above your head, pinning you against the door. Any other person might have been afraid, but Katsuki's angry outbursts didn't faze you anymore.

His face was just inches away from yours and you could see the anger that flashed in his eyes ignited by his jealousy, "You know I fucking hate when you do that."

"Do what?" You asked, playing innocent as if you didn't intentionally flirt with Denki to piss him off.

"Don't play dumb with me," He growled. "You're so god damn flirty and it pisses me off, makes those extras think they have a chance with you. Especially dunce face, I hate the way he looks at you. Makes me want to explode the shit out of him. You're mine you know that!"

"Well- maybe they wouldn't look at me that way if they knew," You challenged him.

Katsuki let go of your wrist and stepped a few paces back from you, "I told you I'm not good at this shit." He said, crossing his arms.

"I'm not either Katsuki- but you sat the furthest away you could have from me down there-,"

"The fuck does that matter?? I was just sitting on the couch. Why the hell are you like that anyway? Do you like dunce face or something?" He asked.

You let out a sigh, "No of course not, I like you. I only did it because it pisses you off," You let out a small laugh. "I just want your attention that's all," you answered honestly.

"Tch- my attention? What a dumb ass way to go about it." He huffed.

"Told you, I'm not good at this stuff either. What if- I'll stop my playful comments if you make it obvious that there's... something between us," you proposed.

"Like what? You want me to hold your goddamn hand or something?" he asked.

Your eyes blinked wide. You were going to suggest just having him sit next to you on the couch next time- but this was much better.

"Yeah that's- that's good," you said trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. You didn't want Katsuki to see how much that actually meant to you.

"Fine, now get out, it actually is late now I gotta sleep," He grumbled.

You moved closer and placed a kiss on his cheek, "Sure thing Grandpa," you teased, and laughed as you left his room and made your way back to yours.

The following day, you sat in the common room around the usual couches the boys chose to hang out on.

"Man, today's lesson went way over my head, did any of you get it?" Eijiro asked looking distressed.

"Nope- Ectoplasm's lecture was impossible to follow," Denki said.

You were about to respond when you noticed Katsuki making his way to the couches. The boys continued their conversation while you eyed Katsuki, wondering if he'd stay true to his word. Katsuki silently sat next to you. Both hands tucked deep into his sweat pockets he looked away from the group.

"Bakugo, you're going to have to tutor all of us on the lesson today!" Eijiro exclaimed.

"Sure whatever-" Katsuki said still looking away from the group.

Eijiro looked at him curiously, wondering what was wrong, but decided not to push his friend and continued his conversation with Denki.

Without warning Katsuki pulled out his hand from his pocket and quickly grabbed yours, interlacing his fingers with yours. You looked down at your hands and then back up at him. He was still facing away from the group and his leg was bouncing up and down nervously.

Eijiro stopped mid-sentence at the sight.

"WHAT!?" Katsuki barked snapping his head to Eijiro.

"Nothing! Nothing!" Eijiro said quickly. He knew Katsuki well enough to know better than to make it a big deal.

The boys silently looked at each other and then back at you two stealing glances.

"If someone says a goddamn word I'm exploding them," Katsuki mumbled and turned to look away from the group again.

"So, anyway that lesson was awful," you said, encouraging the group to pick back up the conversation and not make a scene about Katsuki holding your hand.

"Yeah right-," Denki said and continued complaining about the rest of the day.

Katsuki gave your hand a slight squeeze, showing his appreciation.

Tags: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif

[alexaloraetheris]

On the subject of being your own zookeeper, I've been trying it out and it WORKS. One of the obvious ways is to ask 'Have I watered/fed/medicated the beast?' and take care of those needs, and it's great, but another thing I haven't seen mentioned is the Stressors.

So, being a bio grad student, means I also know actual zoologists and zookeepers. And talking with one blew my third eye open. One of the questions the zookeeper always, ALWAYS needs to keep an eye on is 'What is stressing the beast out, and how can I remove it?'

In human terms, it's basically 'This thing is causing me a minor amount of stress, but stress is cumulative, so how many small stressors can I remove so the Big Stress doesn't drain so much of my energy?'

Say you're stressing about an exam/interview/visitors. There's ways to prepare for that, but before you get to that point you also need to look out for small stressors that add to the overall feeling of stress, and the goal is to reduce them FIRST.

Example: You have a big test and it's the day you need to take it. You are already baseline anxious about taking it, and the goal here is to stress as little as possible on the way to school.

You can't eat breakfast because you're late/nauseous? Keep small energy bars in your purse, snack on the way. Gives you a bit of sugar for your brain, doesn't take up time and always on hand. Haven't had time for coffee? Caffeine pills/espresso chocolates. It's cold/raining? Ditch your sneakers and wear rain boots and a warm coat, worry about fashion later. I even carry around a foldable cushion so I can sit while I wait for the bus without freeting my butt off. Haven't had time to brush your teeth? Gum, mints, breath fresheners. Nervous? Fidget toys. Worried about losing an umbrella? Get one of those plastic sleeves so you can put it in your purse even if it's wet. Too damn hot? Mini fan, or even a folding paper fan. Noise level grating on your nerves? Silicone earplugs, or noise-cancelling earbuds/headphones. (I have a big purse I carry all this stuff in so I don't forget, a blessing with ADHD)

Things like that. Small things to mitigate the microstressors so you arrive to your destinations with as little misery as possible.

Apply that to the rest of your life. You have to eat vegetables for your health but you hate them so damn much? Find a way to prepare them in a way that doesn't make you gag. I just throw a bag of frozen pre-chopped veggies in the pan and then throw in spices I like. If I can taste the vegetables in my veggie stir-fry, I haven't seasoned them enough.

Make little medicine bag, the size of your palm. I carry nasal degongestant spray, ibuprofen, eye drops, mini bug spray, a pad and a tampon, a few alcohol wipes and hand cream. Those tiny tester tubes of hand cream? A godsend. Adjust to your needs.

I hate washing dishes. Back hurts and my skin literally peels off my hands from the dryness. Get a bar stool and sit, wear WELL FITTED dish gloves. I got those that go all the way up my elbows in S size and now my kitchen doesn't look like a disaster.

Vacuuming is a pain? Handheld vacuum cleaner you can push around for 15 minutes every day. Expensive? Get a broom and a good dustpan. I emphasize GOOD because it does make a difference. Back hurts if you bend over? Get the dustpan with a long handle.

It's amazing how much difference it makes. Neutralize Murphy's law. A bunch of small stuff going wrong will absolutely tank your energy you need for the big stuff.

TL;DR Identify the things that cause you daily stress, find easy ways to neutralize them. Save your energy for the big stuff. There is nothing noble in suffering. Take care of your zoo animal.

And if you need it, ask for help. Zookeepers often work in pairs.

[verstappen-cult]

Hiiii I love your lestappen stories, they are so good!!🥰🥰 I was wondering if you could write one where the reader is studying really hard for her final exams (she's so so stressed about it) and her boys help her relax a little 💗💗

gwen’s message. this is so me because i’m studying reaaaally hard for some exams i have to take next week and i just want lestappen to give me kisses and massages. 🥺

“Baby, you should take a break.” Charles says as he leans against the door.

You take your glasses off and rub the sleep from your eyes. “I can’t. I have all these papers to read and a lot of classes to catch up on.”

Max, who has been keeping you company since you started studying early this morning, scrolling through his phone, looks at you. “You can take at least fifteen minutes, it’ll do you good.”

“Max is right,” Charles walks into the room, stopping right behind you. “You need breaks between all the studying, or you’re going to fry your brains.”

You know they are right, but you also know that you need a good grade to pass the exams or you’re going to have to take them again; and you don’t want that.

“Just fifteen minutes.” You sigh, resting the back of your head against Charles’ chest.

His hands immediately find your shoulders and starts massaging all the stress off your body.

“Now, come here,” Max opens his arms, while getting comfortable against the pillows, and you don’t even need to think about it to climb on the bed. “Just lie down and relax.” He says as he makes way for you to lie down between his legs, your back to his chest.

“I’m gonna grab some oil and I’ll be right back.”

You barely have time to process your boyfriend’s words because your brain shuts off the moment you feel Max’s lips on yours. It’s barely a kiss, definitely not enough, and it leaves you wanting for more.

Max laughs when you chase after his lips and he just places a little peck on your cheek, making you groan.

Charles sits at the foot of the bed and gets rid of your socks. “You should try to sleep.” He whispers as his oily hands start giving you the best foot massage of your life.

You close your eyes, feeling one pair of hands on your temples and the other rubbing your feet and legs. It’s relaxing and definitely what you needed.

You wouldn’t have taken a break if it weren’t for your favorite boys. Always making sure you’re taking care of yourself. And taking care of you.

“Could — ” You swallow, feeling all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks because you’re about to admit something you swore you wouldn’t in front of them. “Could you talk about racing, please? I know it’s weird but it relaxes me.”

They’re silent for far too long. But then, just as you’re about to apologise and run away, you hear them giggling; your favorite sound in the world.

“It’s not weird at all, schatje.” Max kisses the top of your head and you feel a little silly for ever thinking that they would make fun of you.

You can hear Charles’ smirk when he speaks, “You want us to talk about something specific?”

You think for a second.

“About Austria 2022.”

[cruel-seduction]

Midnight Encounters

Content Warning:

* Blood (minor injury)

* Mildly intense situations

Summary : You thought a midnight snack might cure your insomnia. Instead, you find a masked stranger injured and raiding your pantry. One odd kiss and a few strange confessions later, you’re left questioning what just happened—and if he’ll show up in your kitchen again.

Glimpse - “Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

(Picture taken from pinterest)

You shuffle into your dark kitchen, rubbing your eyes and hoping that a mug of chamomile tea might finally bring some sleep. It’s 2 a.m., and the quiet hum of your apartment is a small comfort on this otherwise restless night.

But as you turn on the kitchen light, your heart nearly stops.

A figure, dressed head-to-toe in black and red, sits on your floor. He’s wearing a Spider-Man suit—the Spider-Man suit, complete with the mask—and he’s holding a spoonful of Nutella, chocolate smudged on the white eye lenses. A dark smear trails down the side of his masked head, and you realize with a jolt that it’s blood. He’s been injured.

“I can explain,” he says quickly, as though realizing how insane this all looks.

You stare, stunned, gripping the countertop as your mind races through every logical reaction: scream, run, maybe even call the police. But you’re frozen, your brain failing to compute why Spider-Man, a masked stranger, is sitting on your kitchen floor eating Nutella—Nutella you don’t even own.

After a beat of silence, he clears his throat, though the spoon remains poised mid-air. “Actually, no, I can’t.”

You glance at the jar, realizing with bewilderment that it isn’t even yours. “You… you brought your own Nutella?”

“Well… yes?” He shifts awkwardly, spoon still in hand. “It was an emergency.”

The absurdity hits you at once, and despite the fear bubbling up in your chest, you raise an eyebrow. “So, you break into my apartment… at 2 a.m., bleeding all over my floor, just to eat—your Nutella?”

The masked eyes widen in shock as he sets the jar down. “Whoa, no—no.” He waves his hands in defense. “That’s not—Look, I didn’t mean to break in.” He hesitates, sounding oddly defensive, like he’s scrambling to explain himself without making it worse. “It’s just—I was out there, chasing some guys, and things went south. And I saw your fire escape and… I needed a break.”

His head tilts up to face you fully, white lenses narrowing as if gauging your reaction. He shifts, trying to tuck a torn edge of his suit further behind him, but you’re still too stunned to speak.

“Do you, um…” he starts, glancing at your kitchen cabinets, “have any… Band-Aids?”

You stare, incredulous, still gripping the countertop in a weird mix of shock and bewilderment. “You’re Spider-Man. I thought you were supposed to be, like, invincible.”

“Apparently not,” he mumbles, looking down with a dramatic sigh. “Turns out, I’m just human enough to still need a Band-Aid every now and then.”

For a few seconds, you consider calling the police or just grabbing a frying pan, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the slight slump in his shoulders or the way he mutters about bad timing. Whatever it is, you reach into your cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit and holding it out, staying cautiously a few steps away.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding almost surprised.

As he fumbles with the bandages, you slowly sink to the floor across from him, careful to keep your distance. “So… you’re just gonna patch yourself up here? With my first aid kit?”

“I’ll leave you some web fluid as payment, if you want,” he says, voice muffled as he tears open a bandage.

It’s utterly bizarre, watching Spider-Man—the Spider-Man—clumsily patch himself up on your kitchen floor, trying to look like this is normal.

“You know, breaking into random kitchens is… probably not in the superhero handbook,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop yourself.

He chuckles, sounding as surprised by it as you are. “I’ll make a note of that. Avoid random kitchens.” He glances at you, a bit more cautious, and adds, “You’re taking this a lot better than I’d expect, by the way.”

“Oh, I’m freaking out,” you reply, though you feel your own defensiveness slip a little. “I’m just too tired to run screaming into the street right now.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, the only sound the soft crinkling of bandages and the faint hum of the fridge. But when he speaks again, his voice is almost shy. “Thank you for… you know, not throwing me out.”

You can only manage a small nod, realizing that the man beneath the mask—whoever he is—seems like someone who hasn’t had many moments of kindness like this. In the gentle light, you share a moment of quiet understanding, two strangers who just happened to meet in the strangest of ways.

Spider-Man fumbles with the bandages, his movements uncharacteristically clumsy. He finishes securing a Band-Aid to his temple and mumbles a quiet “thanks” as he lowers his hands to his lap, looking oddly bashful for someone who spends his nights swinging across skyscrapers.

For a few moments, you sit in silence, staring at the floor, wondering if you’ll wake up from this fever dream. But the soft glow of your kitchen light and the distant sound of city traffic outside make it all feel surprisingly real. And he’s sitting right there, masked and bruised, shoulders slightly slouched, as if the weight of the night has finally caught up with him.

Finally, you clear your throat, breaking the silence. “So… you do this often?”

He looks up, those wide white lenses shifting slightly in a way that somehow communicates a sheepish grin. “Not exactly. Usually, I just…” He pauses, tapping his fingers on his knees. “You know, avoid breaking into people’s kitchens.”

You raise an eyebrow, managing a smirk despite yourself. “So, is Nutella an essential part of the Spider-Man toolkit?”

There’s a muffled laugh from beneath the mask, soft and genuine. “Don’t knock it. Chocolate is a top-tier snack when you’re exhausted. Which…” He gestures vaguely to his bloodied suit, “…happens more than you’d think.”

The two of you lapse into silence again, the surreal nature of it all slowly sinking in. But there’s something else in the air too, a kind of mutual understanding that feels strangely… comforting.

Spider-Man shifts, glancing toward the window. “I should go. Before you change your mind about calling the police.”

You laugh, and it surprises you both. “I guess it would be hard to explain why Spider-Man was eating Nutella on my floor.”

He snorts, moving to stand. “Let’s keep that between us, then.”

But before he can fully rise, something stops you. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you—through the mask, yes, but there’s a gentleness there, a warmth that you didn’t expect. Or maybe it’s the fact that tonight feels like a moment outside of time, a brief connection with someone who risks everything for strangers every day, yet somehow ended up needing you tonight.

Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out, gently catching his hand. “Wait.”

He pauses, tilting his head in curiosity as he glances down at where your fingers brush against his glove. Without thinking it through, you lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his masked cheek.

“Thank you for protecting the city,” you say quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “And… for trusting me. Even if it’s just for a minute.”

You see him stiffen for a second, as though the gesture has completely caught him off guard. Then, his shoulders relax, and he lowers his head, the hint of a smile somehow visible even through the mask.

“Thank you,” he replies softly, voice tinged with genuine warmth. “For not freaking out. And for, you know… the Nutella.”

You laugh again, and it’s then that he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away, moving toward the window.

“Take care of yourself, Spider-Man,” you say, a soft ache already building in your chest as he reaches the fire escape.

He pauses on the ledge, glancing back at you, his white eye lenses narrowing in a kind of gentle, playful expression. “Sweet dreams. And hey—maybe next time, I’ll bring peanut butter.”

Then, in one fluid movement, he’s gone, disappearing into the night, leaving you alone in your dim kitchen, with a half-eaten jar of Nutella and the lingering warmth of an unexpected kiss.

[hxney-lemcn]

Best Friend — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: being friends with Daisuke, you and him have some fun and not so fun moments, but you find yourself confessing your feelings to him accidently.

tw: mentions of Pony Express (gross), slight angst (but barely)

a/n: guys Daisuke has me in his grips rn, things kept getting written and here we are. I love him your honor.

wc: 2.3k

Master List

Part One | Part Two

It was a warm day in spring. Sun shining down, fluffy white clouds floating by, a gentle breeze tussling your hair, and your company had made it all the better. Daisuke sat across from you at a picnic table at the park. Birds chirped overhead, sounds of kids running around and playing in the distance, while both you and Daisuke were having idle chit chat. 

“How’s college going?” Daisuke asked, glancing up at you from his phone. 

“Don’t get me started,” You grumbled, brain frying at the mere thought of school and work. 

Daisuke chuckled lightly, putting his phone down and resting his head in his hand. Mirroring his movements, you asked, “How’s it going on your end?”

“Don’t get me started,” He repeated your earlier words, causing you both to break out into a small fit of laughter.

“That bad, huh?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” He grumbled, a pout resting on his lips. “My parents won’t stop buggin’ me about finding a job or internship. I dunno what I wanna do yet though.”

“That sucks,” You sympathized. “I still don’t know what I wanna do exactly, but my parents wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to going to college. Lets hope I choose the right major.”

The lull in your conversation gave you time to admire your long time friend. His hair was growing out from the last time he dyed it, laying nicely on his shoulders and cut jaggedly. His brown eyes had drifted from you, staring up into the canopy of the trees that surrounded you both, the sun shining across his nose. The beauty mark that rested below his right eye and on his left cheek. He was too pretty for his own good. Not to mention his good sense of fashion and funny personality, he was like your dream boyfriend wrapped in a single package. Well actually…

Yeah, you fell for your friend…a while ago too. Could you blame yourself? He was sweet, caring, funny, pretty, maybe a little dense and average when it came to school work, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. Daisuke was a good guy, a bit lost at the moment, but you were gonna stick by his side until he found his passion, and hopefully after that too.

“They found an internship actually,” Daisuke broke the silence, brown eyes landing back on yours. 

“Oh?” You questioned back, blinking out of your stupor. “Where?”

“Pony Express,” He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but you could tell it was bothering him. 

“You mean the shitty delivery company?” You asked confused. “The one that ships to other planets?”

“Yeah,” Daisuke replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not concrete or anything, but they’re kinda serious about this one.”

Your stomach dropped. There was no way he was actually…

“I don’t think I can say no.”

It was like your world was crumbling. Daisuke was not only your crush, but the only friend you talked to outside of high school…he was kind of your only friend. Not only that, but the safety of those trips have been heavily criticized, especially Pony Express. They were known for cutting costs and slipping things under the rug. Many workers came out with accusations that were swiftly silenced, rumors of toxic work culture littered everywhere you could look. What were his parents thinking?!

“R-really?” You asked, trying to mask the fear that coated your words and expression. “Isn’t…there are so many other trades, why would they start you with something so demanding?”

“To teach me responsibility,” He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. You felt anger start bubbling up within you. Sure, Daisuke hasn’t had a real job yet, but that wasn’t an excuse to throw him to the wolves to teach him a lesson! Sure, they meant well, but what about an electrician's apprentice or welder, hell even a plumber! Just…something that wasn’t him hurtling through space for God knows how long with little to no communication. 

“I-it’s not as bad as it sounds,” He tried to console you, but you, you were absolutely livid, trying to calm yourself down by taking deep breaths. 

“What if I find you something different?” You asked, your desperation clearly showing. Daisuke felt his stomach twist, he always hated seeing you sad, and now he was the reason. 

“I don’t know,” He sighed. “Maybe if it’s something serious looking.

“Okay,” You nodded, suddenly getting serious. “How about we try finding alternatives together? Try to find the best of both worlds.”

“Sure,” Daisuke replied back, looking a bit more hopeful than before.

…

“Wanna sip?” You asked, tilting your drink towards Daisuke. He had seemed intrigued by what you got, but ordered something different. Sharing was a common occurrence between you both anyways, so neither of you batted an eye. 

“Thank you,” He grinned brightly, taking a quick sip before leaning back in his chair. “Oh, that is good! I’ll have to get it next time.” You nodded, taking a quick sip before placing the cup on the table. Your eyes noticed the pink hue that seemed to seep into Daisuke’s cheeks, but decided to ignore it, instead taking a glance around you both. You were visiting the local mall, spending some more time together. Many types of people walked past you as you both sat in the food court having a quick snack before continuing your shopping. 

“Y’know,” He spoke up, snapping your attention back onto him. “I think someone’s checking you out right now.” The way he spoke was conspiratorial, leaning across the table and whispering into your ear. 

You blinked in confusion, glancing around once more before whispering back, “Who?”

“That guy,” Daisuke pointed discreetly to a guy who was not even hiding the fact that he was indeed looking at you. It made your skin shiver, not liking the attention.

“Ew,” Was your immediate response, causing the both of you to break out laughing, huddling into each other like little kids who were trying to hide. 

“I thought you’ve been wanting a boyfriend for forever,” Daisuke chuckled out, whipping an invisible tear from his eye.

“Yeah,” You grumbled back, trying to ignore the way your cheeks flamed at the admission. “But not a random person.”

“Then how are you gonna find someone?” He asked innocently, tilting his head in genuine confusion. 

“I…” Was it just you or was the room getting hotter, ��cus you felt like you were starting to sweat bullets. (Un)fourtunately, the guy from moments before walked over, somehow the sight of you and your friend laughing uncontrollably after looking at him boosted his confidence…somehow. People were still a mystery to you. 

“Hey,” The guy greeted, a slimy smirk on his lips. He wasn’t the worst looking person, he actually looked conventionally attractive, but that seemed to make this all worse for you. He was clearly confident in his looks and his friends were watching while snickering to each other. Gosh, this felt like high school all over again, he was probably gonna say something nice and then immediately insult you. You thought you were past this stage in life already…apparently not. 

“Uh, hi,” You greeted back awkwardly, constantly glancing at Daisuke like your life depended on it. 

“I noticed you from across the room and thought you looked attractive,” The random guy said, eyes once again looking you up and down. Oh God, this was worse than high school…was he being serious right now? You tried to hide your grimace, not wanting to upset him, but also not wanting to lead him on.

“Uh…thanks?” It came out as more of a question, and you elbowed Daisuke as he let out a muffled laugh, absolutely eating up this awkward encounter. 

“Yeah,” The guy nodded, not even sparing a glance to your friend. “So I was wondering if I could get your number.” Your heart dropped, panic started to thrum through your veins. What do you say? Well, no of course. But how do you say it without sounding like an asshole?

“It’s (xxx) xxx-xxxx,” Daisuke smiled ‘innocently’. You gave him a blank stare, trying your hardest to not grin like the cheshire cat. The guy put the number that not only wasn’t yours, but Daisuke’s, into his phone before winking at you.

“Cool,” The guy smiled. “I’ll text you later.”

“Y-yeah,” You coughed into your palm, trying to smother the laughter that was threatening to bubble up. As soon as the guy left your vicinity, you both broke into a fit of chuckles, clutching onto the other all the while. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” You cackled. “God I love you so much.” 

It was an innocent admission. Something you had been holding close to your heart for who knows how long. It had been bubbling and brewing with every smile he sent your way, every silly drawing and caring gesture, every time he comforted you or made you laugh. It was bound to overflow, to spill past your lips in a moment of vulnerability…but the second it left you, your expression dropped. Once again panicking as Daisuke looked at you in surprise. It was hard to ignore the pink on his cheeks this time. 

Trying to regain his composure, with a small smile he replied, “I love you too.” The atmosphere was tense, and you knew he meant it platonically…at least that’s what you thought. He was giving you an out, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to take it. But as the chatter of other people around you filled your senses once more, bags rustling and the smell of a mix of foods, you decided it wasn’t the best setting to go over such emotions. 

Fingers twitching, you grab one of Daisuke’s hands, gathering your bags in the other. He sent you a confused (and a bit frightful) look, but grabbed his own items, letting you pull him away when he was ready. Every nerve in your body felt alight, trying to ignore how his fingers curled around your own, how your heart was going a mile a minute, how you felt like you couldn’t hold it in anymore. For all you knew, he was going to intern at Pony Express, and you had been holding these feelings in for far too long, and he just needed to know you were serious about your accidental confession. 

When you both sat in your car, you turned the music down, turning to face the confused man, “I meant it.”

Blinking, he simply replied, “I meant it too.”

“No,” You groaned, face aflame and heart pounding. “I love you, Daisuke. Like, I want to hold hands with you and do gross coupley things.”

His blush had become ten times more prominent, the red coating his tanned cheeks brightly, eyes wide in astonishment. Daisuke never knew you liked him like that. Sure, he had hoped, having grown feelings for you as well. Unlike his other friends that he would go out and party with, you were more grounding, enjoying the quiet moments and letting him vent when needed. You had been his friend for so long, he couldn’t imagine a life without you by his side. Whenever his parents or you asked him what he wanted for his future, all he could really come up with was that he wanted you there.

And now you were here, confessing to him. Was he dreaming? Had he died and gone to heaven? Could this really be happening? Well, whatever this was, he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go.

“I…I wanna do that too, with you,” He replied back, gaze shifting from yours, but the giddy smile on his face gave away that he meant what he was saying. 

“R-really?” You asked hopefully. 

“Of course!” Daisuke responded passionately, his embarrassment slowly fading. “You always listen to me ramble about stupid things, and you keep my stupid drawings and you're also really pretty, or, uh, handsome, no I mean beautiful…shit.”

You chuckled, reaching out and grabbing his hand somewhat bashfully, “I think you’re pretty, handsome, and beautiful too.”

And as the both of you sat there, staring at each other with loving gazes, you felt like no matter what, things would be fine. You both can get through any problem as long as you have the other.

Bonus:

“Oh my God he texted me!” Daisuke exclaimed, calling out your name like you weren’t lying right next to him. 

Turning off your phone, you snuggled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, both staring at his phone, “What did he say?”

“Hey, it’s the guy from the mall,” Daisuke read aloud. “Do you wanna come watch a movie at my place?” 

“Ew,” You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Who thinks it's a good idea for the first date to be at a private location?”

“He probably thought he was gonna get some,” Daisuke rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Yeah, I think that’s even worse,” You grumbled. 

He only chuckled, asking, “What should I say back?”

“I dunno,” You shrugged. “Something stupid.”

“Sorry, I have to fold my dishes,” Daisuke spoke while typing, the silly grin never leaving his lips. 

“That’s such an old meme,” You laughed. Your boyfriend merely shrugged, clicking send anyways. The two of you watched as it was marked read, then the message bubbles that popped up and disappears periodically. The two of you were giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“When are you free then?” You read out this time. “Wow, am I really that good looking?”

“Duh,” Daisuke rolled his eyes while squeezing your waist. “I just got lucky that you chose me.”

“I didn’t choose you,” You replied. “You kinda snuck your way into my heart and one day I was like, damn…I like him.”

Looking down at you, Daisuke stared like you had hung the stars and moon, causing your heart to accelerate. Leaning down, he placed a short kiss to your lips, then swiftly kissed you again and again until his heart's content.

As you both got lost in each other's love, you had completely forgotten about the random guy, whose messages were left forgotten.

[joelsrose]

Home

fluff that makes my heart

“Hey, sweet girl,” Joel murmured as he stepped through the door, his voice low and warm, wrapping around you like a soft blanket. His work boots scuffed lightly against the floor as he made his way toward you. You didn’t even notice him at first, too busy glaring at your laptop screen, your brows knit tight in frustration. You’d been sitting at the dining table all day, your shoulders tense, and the sight made his heart ache a little.

He crouched down beside you, resting a hand on your thigh. “Darlin’, you’ve been at this all day, huh?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles over your leg. You hummed distractedly in response, your focus still glued to the screen, trying to figure out whatever had you so stressed.

Joel tilted his head, studying your furrowed brows, the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. His hand slid up to gently cradle your face, coaxing you to look at him. “C’mon, baby, give me those pretty eyes,” he teased, his voice full of tenderness. When your gaze finally met his, the corners of his mouth quirked up in a small smile.

“You’re gonna fry that pretty little brain of yours if you keep this up,” he said, leaning in to press the softest kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to let you feel the warmth of him. “How ‘bout you take a break for me, sweetheart? Let me take care of my girl for a bit.”

Your chest fluttered at the way he looked at you, his deep brown eyes filled with nothing but love and concern. “I just—this thing’s been giving me so much trouble all day, Joel,” you murmured, your voice a little defeated.

He shook his head gently, his hands sliding down to take yours, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “Honey, you’re the smartest, most determined little thing I’ve ever known. You’ll figure it out, I know you will. But not if you’re running on fumes,” he said, his voice so soft it made your heart ache in the best way. “Now, how ‘bout you let me fix you somethin’ to eat? We’ll sit down, and you can tell me all about it after, alright?”

The way he said it—low and steady, full of love—made the knot in your chest loosen just a bit. You nodded, letting him pull you out of your chair and into his arms. He kissed the top of your head, his scruff tickling your temple as he held you close. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his voice a little gruff now but still so full of affection.

Wrapped in his arms, the world seemed a little softer, your worries melting away as you let yourself breathe him in. Joel Miller always knew how to make you feel like the most cherished thing in his world.

[corroded-hellfire]

Can we get Reader’s first Mother’s Day after Eliza is born? I’m imagining Eliza in a little “I 🩷 Mommy” onesie.

Also manifesting a heartfelt moment between Reader & Ryan ok byeeeee ✌🏻

Eliza in onesie? Check. Heartfelt moment with Ryan? Check. Cheesiness? Check.

Words: 6.4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

A low whining starts off slow but grows in both volume and intensity. The moment it registers in Eddie’s sleeping brain, he blinks his eyes open and is quick to grab the baby monitor and turn the sound down so it doesn’t wake you. Gently, he sets the monitor back down on his nightstand and rolls to look over his shoulder, checking to see if you’re still asleep. 

A sleepy smile grows on Eddie’s face as he watches you, still out like a light, lips parted, and curled up with the comforter tucked up over your shoulder. If he didn’t have to get up to get your daughter, your husband would burrow under the blankets and cuddle up against you for the rest of the morning. But today is all about you and that starts with Eddie getting up bright and early so you don’t have to.

The moment the door to Eliza’s nursery cracks open, her whines go from half-hearted to insistent. She knows someone is there and she is going to make damn sure they hear her and come get her. 

“Hey, there’s my little sunshine,” Eddie says as he steps into the nursery. 

Eliza watches him with her wide brown eyes as he goes over to her pink curtains, parting them to let some light filter into the room. The sun isn’t even fully out yet, but the brightening gray sky provides enough of a shine to see by.

“How’d you sleep, hmm?” Eddie asks as he picks the seven-month-old up out of her crib. 

Her chubby little fingers instantly grab at the shoulder of Eddie’s faded Hellfire shirt. She sighs contently when her dad presses a few kisses into the wispy baby hairs at her temple. 

“You hungry?” 

The rest of the house is silent as the two make their way to the kitchen. Eliza’s little hums and coos keep her occupied, like she’s having some sort of conversation, as Eddie sets her into her Disney princess highchair.

“I’ll heat up a bottle and then we’ll go watch some TV, okay?” Eddie asks the baby through a yawn.

He receives no reply as he pulls a prepared baby bottle out of the refrigerator and pops it into the microwave. As it heats up, Eddie goes around the kitchen, pulling out a frying pan, a spatula, and some cooking spray. Eliza watches with curiosity, but the moment the microwave beeps, her eyes snap in that direction, and she whines to get the attention of her father.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie says, ruffling the tiny bit of hair that Eliza has as he passes by her.

The milk passes the wrist temperature test, so Eddie scoops his daughter up and makes his way into the living room with her. 

“Okay,” he says through another yawn. “What should we watch? Let’s see what’s already in the DVD player. Oh, you like Hercules. Perfect.”

Eddie presses play on the remote and settles down on the couch with Eliza. He kicks out his plaid pajama clad legs and rests his feet on the coffee table as he situates Eliza against his body so he’s best able to feed her. 

The little girl eagerly accepts her food, snuggling back against her dad’s chest as she takes over the responsibility of holding the bottle. Her eyes remain trained on the screen as she drinks, Eddie becoming invested in the movie as well. He even starts to sing to her as she finishes up the last of her milk.

“Like a shooting star, I will go the distance

I will search the world, I will face its harms

I don’t care how far, I can go the distance

‘Til I find my hero’s welcome waiting in your arms.”

Bright, shining eyes stare up at Eddie, making him chuckle once the song is over. Eliza blinks a few times, her dark long lashes kissing her cheeks with each flutter.

“Like when I sing?” Eddie asks her. 

As a response, she drops her empty bottle and snuggles even further into her dad’s chest, making herself as comfortable as possible. Eddie gently rests his head atop her softer, smaller one and keeps watching the movie with her. 

About halfway through the movie, Ryan comes down the hallway, rubbing his left eye as he trudges into the living room. 

“Morning, pal,” Eddie greets.

“Mornin’,” Ryan answers, waving to his little sister as he passes the couch. 

Eddie turns his head to tell his son, “I got everything you’ll need out for you. On the counter by the stove. Well, you’ll need to get the food parts out of the fridge, but I got the other stuff.”

“Thanks,” Ryan says as he continues on to the kitchen. 

Now instead of the movie, Eddie’s attention is on any and all sounds coming from the kitchen. Yes, he trusts Ryan and knows he’s a competent kid���but he’s still only a twelve-year-old kid. After about ten minutes, Eddie can’t take it any longer and places Eliza in her pink flowery walker so he can go check in on his oldest son. 

Ryan’s doing surprisingly well. He has all the ingredients that he needs out, and he has everything set up around him. He’s about to open the carton of eggs when Eddie raises his eyebrows.

“Did you wash your hands before you started cooking?”

“Oh, right.” 

As Ryan goes over to the sink, Eddie hears “Hi, Eliza!” come from the living room. The heavy tread that accompanies the voice lets Eddie know exactly where Luke is until the ten-year-old pops up beside him.

“I’m hungry,” Luke says. 

Eddie musses up the boy’s curls and nods his head.

“Eliza and I will go wake up the star of the day and then I’ll make you breakfast.”

The door to your bedroom slowly swings open, the heads of your husband and daughter popping in. The moment Eliza’s gaze falls on you, she immediately wants to be brought to your side. 

“Okay, okay,” Eddie whispers as he walks over to the bed. He sits down on his side of the bed and lets Eliza go, who wastes no time crawling over to you. She wraps her small arms around your head, hugging it, and making Eddie laugh. “Why don’t you give Mommy some kisses? Wake her up like Sleeping Beauty?”

Eliza just tilts her head to look up at him, not knowing what he means. Your husband demonstrates by leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. This motion is what wakes you up, but you give no sign of being conscious, enjoying listening to your husband and daughter. 

The infant does her best to copy her father, but really just slobbers on your face, which makes you laugh and peek your eyes open at her.

“Well, hello there,” you say, wiping baby drool off of your nose before it can run down any farther. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Eddie cheers, one hand on Eliza’s back as if he’s encouraging her to say it as well.

“Thank you, Sweet Pea.” You press a kiss to your daughter’s cheek. “And thank you, baby.” Eddie leans in and gives you a peck on the lips. “Where are my boys?”

“Ryan is actually preparing your first gift of the day,” Eddie explains. “And Luke is either helping him or being a pain in the ass.”

As if he knew he was being talked about, Luke rushes into the room and does a running jump onto the bed.

“I’m heeeeeeere!”

Your middle child belly flops on the foot of the bed before army crawling up to you and wrapping an arm around your neck to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he says.

“Thank you, honey.”

You take a look around at everyone on the bed and stick your lower lip out in a pout.

“I’m missing my oldest.”

Eddie presses a kiss to the top of Eliza’s head and makes sure she’s securely between you and Luke before he gets up from the bed.

“Let me go check on him.”

While Eddie walks out of the room, Luke wriggles himself so his arms wrap around Eliza’s small frame and lays his head on your shoulder.

“So,” he says, looking up at you, his blue eyes full of excitement. “It’s a surprise but you gotta know so you’ll be ready on time so I’m gonna tell you my gift!”

“Ready on time?” you ask, brows pinching together.

“Mhmm!” Luke says, letting Eliza chew on his thumb. “The art studio near Dad’s work is having a special Mommy and Me painting day and you and I are gonna go!”

“Luke, that sounds perfect,” you say, a bright grin lighting up your face. “I can’t wait.”

Eddie steps back into the room with Ryan, who has batter smudged on his nose. 

“Happy Mother’s Day!” Ryan says, coming over and giving you a hug.

“Thank you, sweetheart. What have you been making a mess of?” you tease, poking his nose just below the smeared batter. 

“My present to you!” he says excitedly. “I made breakfast. Just for the two of us.”

A gasp of excitement escapes your lips, and you rest your forehead against Ryan’s.

“He’s even set up a nice place setting out on the porch for you guys,” Eddie adds. “I’ll be managing the gremlins inside.”

“Hey! Who you calling a gremlin?” Luke asks, sitting up and narrowing his eyes at his father.

As if in response, Eliza presses her hands flat against Luke’s stomach and gives him a push.

“He was talking about you too, you know,” Luke tells his baby sister with a sigh. She copies his sigh and flops dramatically across his lap. 

There’s a soft breeze outside as you sit across the table from Ryan, enjoying the French toast breakfast that he made for the two of you. Surprisingly, it tastes really good—better than any breakfast that’s been made for you in a long time.

“I think you should take over cooking for your dad from now on,” you tell Ryan with a playful smirk on your face. Before he can respond, your eyes catch on the mug sitting at your place setting. It’s white with a gold handle, and in the same golden color it says “World’s Best Mom” in a swoopy font.

For a moment you just stare at it, admiring it, and feeling your heart fill up with warmth. Carefully, you reach forward and lift the mug full of coffee towards you.

“This is beautiful, sweetheart,” you tell Ryan, looking at him over the rim of the mug. “Thank you.”

There’s a smile on Ryan’s face that’s a mixture of excitement and that mischievous look he used to get when he was a little boy. 

“You should look at the back,” he says as you’re mid-sip.

Once you swallow your mouthful of coffee, you slowly turn the mug one hundred and eighty degrees to take a look at the other side. The sight that greets you has your eyes immediately filling with tears. Printed on the mug is a family picture of the five of you—the very first picture the five of you had taken together after Eliza had been born. The newborn is still wrapped in her blanket from the hospital as you hold her while sitting on the couch, Eddie right beside you. On his other side is Luke, grinning that hundred-watt smile that can light up any room. And on your other side is Ryan, leaning in close because just before the picture was snapped, he had his head bent over Eliza and was telling her that she was home now. 

As much as you want to thank Ryan for the gift, your throat feels too constricted for words. 

“Oh my God,” you’re finally able to squeak out. It takes you another few moments before you can speak again. “Ryan, I absolutely love it. It’s perfect. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You set the mug back down on the table and open your arms for him. The oldest Munson boy pushes out of his chair and walks around the table, where you pull him into a bone crushing hug. He laughs as he wraps his arms around you to embrace you in return. Giving a little extra tug, you pull Ryan all the way into your lap, which has him laughing even harder. The pure joy his laughter radiates has you even more emotional than you already were. 

“I don’t care if you’re too big for this now!” you say, words muffled against his back. Ryan tries to situate himself a little better, so you loosen your grip but don’t let him go. He drops his head back, realizing he isn’t going to be let free just yet, and the way the back of his skull becomes cradled in the crook of your elbow reminds you of how you held Eliza when she was smaller. A chuckle stuffed with a dozen different emotions bubbles out of you and you smooth some of Ryan’s golden brown curls off his forehead. 

“I don’t care that you’ll be a teenager soon. I don’t care that you’re almost as tall as me. You’re still my little boy. You’ll always be my little boy.” 

A smile tugs at the corners of Ryan's mouth.

“I’m so lucky that you’re my son,” you say softly. 

Doe eyes that are so much like his father’s and his sister’s stare up at you from where his head rests on your arm, love and curiosity in his gaze.

“Did you love us before you loved Dad?” he asks.

It’s not something you expected him to ask, not something you thought about in a long time.

“That’s a tricky question,” you say, brows pinching together. “Because they’re different types of love. But, yeah, I did love you guys first. It was impossible not to after spending time with you.”

Ryan tilts his head, looking away pensively. He’s quiet and you wish you knew what was going on in his brilliant, beautiful mind.

“That’s pretty cool,” he finally says. “Some people have trouble finding the person they belong with. But you found three.” He smiles. “You were always meant to be my mom.”

The tears that began to build up earlier now fall down your cheeks and Ryan is quick to sit up and wipe them away. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry!”

“It’s a good cry,” you assure him with a watery smile through your sniffles. “It’s very, very good.”

The second that you step through the door into the classroom where the Mommy and Me paint session is happening, Luke’s eyes go wide. All the art that hangs on the walls mesmerizes him as the two of you find a pair of empty canvases to sit at. 

Towards the back of the room, you and Luke take seats at a table on the left side. There are two easels perched on the table that hold blank white canvases. Between the two, there are a myriad of colored paints for you and Luke to share, as well as a variety of brushes of different sizes. 

You’re about to redirect Luke into a conversation with you because it seems like all the art surrounding him has him on overdrive, head constantly on a swivel in an attempt to see everything and you don’t want him to get overstimulated. But before you can open your mouth, the teacher at the front of the class calls for attention. 

“Happy Mother’s Day everyone!” she says. “I’m so glad that so many of you wanted to spend time painting with your moms today! I’m Hannah and I’ll be your instructor for this class.” Hannah explains the basic rules, how the class works, and offers to answer any questions. “Sometimes we have themes we work on in these classes, but I’m not here to tell you what to paint. But wouldn’t it be cool if each mom and child’s set of paintings had a common theme?”

Luke perks up at this, instantly loving the idea. He swivels to you in his seat and nods his head so emphatically he reminds you of a bobblehead doll.

When you’re given free rein to work on your paintings, Luke plucks a thin paintbrush out of the holder and taps it against his chin.

“What should we paint?”

“What about…the ocean?” you suggest. “You can paint the pirate ship that’s on top of the water and I can paint the mermaid that’s under the water.”

Luke gets very excited about your idea and nods enthusiastically once more. You swear, you feel like you have to stop him before a spring pops out of his neck. 

“Ooh! We should turn the canvases like this!” Luke tilts both canvases so they’re landscape and would look better one on top of the other.

“Very smart,” you praise. 

Luke appraises his canvas and decides where to start painting the bottom of his ship, when his eyes glance over to your blank canvas and he’s struck with an idea.

“You should make the mermaid look like Eliza! Not like…a baby, but with her color hair and eyes. And maybe a pink tail since she loves pink!”

You chuckle, eyes crinkling in the corner as you nod your head in agreement. “I can’t think of anyone who would make a more magical mermaid than your sister,” you say.

“You would,” Luke says casually as he dips his brush in some coppery-taupe paint. 

Warmth fills your body and your hand stalls on its way to grab a brush at his compliment. You make a mental note to ruffle his curls up later when your hands are clean and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“Like The Little Mermaid?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Luke says, brush stroking from side to side to paint the broad side of the ship. “But, like, the Disney one, not the Brother’s Grimm one where she doesn’t break the spell in time and turns into seafoam.”

Your giggle was pink, the same shade that you’d chosen for your mermaid’s tail.

Conversation flows and ebbs easily between the two of you as the ninety-minute class ticks by—it’s always easy and never boring with Luke around. Occasionally, you ask one another for advice on your paintings or ask how something is coming along. Once the instructor announces that time is up, you and Luke clean up your area while the teacher goes from table to table, taking pictures of the mothers and children with their paintings.

When she gets to you, you squat down so that you can hold your mermaid below Luke’s pirate ship. The ten-year-old holds his painting below his chin, giving the camera a proud smile, while you’re out to the side of the paintings, also sporting a proud smile. But your pride isn’t in your artwork—it’s in having Luke as your son.

When the two of you get back home, Luke eagerly shows off your paintings and Polaroid to Eddie, who, of course, loves them. The photo immediately goes on the fridge, held up by Luke’s favorite Shrek magnet, and the paintings are set on the entertainment unit until you and Luke can find a good place to hang them. 

“Someone says she just woke up from her nap and is ready to hang out with Mommy,” Eddie sing-songs as he walks into the living room from the hall, where he was picking up the little Liza Bean from her nap time. Your favorite part, though, is that Eliza is wearing a white onesie that says “I 💜 Mommy.”

“Well, look at you!” you say, gleefully accepting your daughter from your husband. “And I heart Eliza! Mwah!”

“She’s got a surprise for you, too,” Eddie says.

You cock an eyebrow at your husband. “Oh, really? If it’s in her diaper I’m handing her back to you.”

Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“No, not in her diaper. But it is in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom?” you question. 

Eliza babbles as if she’s asking about the location as well.

“What are you asking for?” Eddie teases Eliza. “You know what it is.”

After a small boop to Eliza’s nose, Eddie slips his hand into yours and leads you into the master bathroom. Products in an array of colors are laid out on the counter and there’s a radio with a CD player tucked into the corner.

“What’s all this?” you ask, taking everything before you in. 

Eddie casually strolls over to the counter and begins to present the different items as if he’s Vanna White.

“Hair mask for Mom, baby oil for Eliza’s hair,” he begins. “Oh, don’t worry, before you ask, Eliza and I got help from the people at the store who actually knew what they were talking about. Right, baby girl? Right. Okay, so. Next, face mask for Mom, oatmeal lotion for Eliza’s face. Then, as you can see, you have a variety of scents to choose from for your luxurious bubble bath. And body lotion for Mom, and more baby oil for Eliza.”

You’re overwhelmed by everything Eddie prepared and look down at your daughter in your arms, smiling up at you with her single tooth proudly on display in her lower gums. You’re overcome with how adorable she is and need to nuzzle your face against hers.

“Are we having a Mommy and Eliza spa afternoon?”

“All her idea,” Eddie says, holding up his hands in front of him. 

With a chuckle, you step forward and press a soft, slow kiss to your husband’s lips.

“This is absolutely the sweetest thing ever,” you whisper against his mouth. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my love. You deserve some relaxation. Thought this would be some nice time for my girls.” Eddie’s eyes go back and forth from you to Eliza, Eliza to you, and the pure love that shines through his gaze is enough to get you tearing up again. 

“Isn’t Daddy the best?” you ask Eliza, who is too busy looking at everything laid out on the counter.

“I think she just wants to get to it,” Eddie says. “I’ll leave you girls to your spa.”

On his way towards the bathroom door, Eddie presses play and the CD in the player begins playing instrumental, lullaby covers of popular songs that you had purchased for Eliza. 

It makes you laugh, and Eddie gives you a wink, about to head out the door, but he stops short.

“Oh! One more thing.”

He steps back in and closes the door to reveal two lavender bathrobes hanging on the back, one that has “Mommy” embroidered on the back and one that says “Eliza.”

“Eddie!” You say his name with a gasp. “Oh my God, they’re so pretty.”

“Gotta keep my girls comfy even when they come out of the spa,” he says with another wink. “I’ll leave you girls to it.”

Once Eddie is gone and has shut the door behind him, you take a deep breath, wondering where to begin.

“Let’s see,” you say to Eliza. “What scented bubble bath should we use?”

Using one arm to grab all five different options, you lower yourself to the cold tile floor below and let Eliza rest between your spread legs. She leans against you and immediately picks up one of the bottles.

“Wanna try this one first? Okay. Let’s see, this is vanilla scented.” You unscrew the cap and take a sniff. It’s a faint smell, but it’s nice. When you offer it for Eliza to smell, she’s clearly unimpressed as she doesn’t even spare the bottle a second glance. “We’ll call that a maybe.” You set that one to the side and grab another bottle. Rose Water. The scent isn’t bad to you, but it immediately makes little Eliza sneeze. That one gets pushed farther away as you giggle at how adorable your little girl’s sneezes are. The third option is Cherry Blossoms and by the way Eliza wanted to take this bottle from your hands, you’d say she liked it. A definite contender since you enjoyed it as well. Tropical Mango is a hit with Eliza, not so much with you, and Citrus smelled nice and clean but Eliza wrinkled up her nose more than you’ve ever seen her do before. Cherry Blossoms it is.

You let Eliza stay seated on the floor and push the other bottles around while you get up to run the bath water and add the bubbles. Next up, adding the baby oil to Eliza’s hair proves amusing because she keeps trying to roll her eyeballs up high enough to see what you’re doing. It’s impossible not to giggle and you press a kiss to her nose. 

“Silly girl.”

Adding your own hair mask is much simpler, but Eliza still studies you, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through her little mind as she watches you now—never mind what goes on in your house on a day-to-day basis. 

“You ready for the water?” 

Carefully, you step into the tub—making sure both facemasks are within reach—and lower both you and Eliza into the warm water and bubbles. 

The seven-month-old clearly isn’t sure how she feels about sitting in the water at first, but once she realizes you’re sitting in there with her and it’s warm, she likes it. Slowly, she begins to get a little more adventurous and starts to make small splashes. These amuse her greatly until the bubbles start growing higher; then she seems a little concerned by them. All it takes is you scooping some up in your hand and blowing on them so they scatter and fly around to catch the baby’s attention again. She sits facing you and you gather enough suds to give her a bubble beard. This tickles her both literally and figuratively because she can’t stop laughing once it’s on her. 

The sound is pure joy and so infectious. You laugh with her, silently wishing she could always be this happy. 

The song on the CD changes to the instrumental, lullaby version of You’re My Best Friend by Queen. 

“I love this song,” you tell her. 

“Ooh, you make me live

Whatever this world can give to me

It’s you, you’re all I see

Ooh, you make me live now, honey

Ooh, you make me live.”

Eliza is mesmerized by your singing, and it makes you chuckle. She rests her head against your chest but the oil in her hair has her head slipping around, making you laugh even more. 

With a sigh, you sink a little further into the water to relax.

“When you’re old enough to head bang,” you say, “I’ll teach you Bohemian Rhapsody. But fair warning, once you can head bang your dad is gonna make you do it to his music all the time.”

After you’ve soaked for a bit and both your and Eliza’s fingers are pruny, you reach over the side of the tub and grab the face mask and oatmeal lotion. First you apply Eliza’s and you’re surprised at how still she sits and lets you rub it around her face. Maybe it feels nice to her, just like a facial should. As you apply the mask to your skin, Eliza starts to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” you ask her.

Her ferocious giggles continue, and you realize she must be laughing at how you look because she looks silly even in her little oatmeal mask. The two of you laugh and you have to hold Eliza steady because even though she’s getting very good at sitting up on her own now, she’s laughing so hard that she keeps almost falling over. 

Taking a washcloth, you first gently take off Eliza’s mask and then your own. Though her giggles have subsided, Eliza looks up at you with a smile on her lips and a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. 

“This isn’t my first Mother’s Day,” you tell her, voice soft at first, “but it’s my first one with a baby. My little Sweet Pea. You and your brothers—and your dad—made this such a wonderful day. I’m so lucky to have you all. Thank you for choosing me to be your mom. I’d like to think you chose me, anyway.”

The little girl puckers her lips and makes a smacking sound as if she blew you a kiss.

“Right back atcha, kid.”

As soon as you get both of your hairs rinsed out, all you can think about is the soft plush bathrobe that’s awaiting you. But first, lotion. As you apply yours to your body, Eliza watches the water go down the drain of the tub with complete fascination. She peeks over the side of the tub, mesmerized with the whirlpool collecting near the pulled plug. 

“Ready to be moisturized?” you ask her once all the water has disappeared. “Want that baby smooth skin?” Your own joke makes you laugh as you pop the top on the baby oil.

Eliza isn’t used to the sensation of having something slick on her skin. The slightly furrowed brow and the way she keeps running her hands lightly over her arms tells you she isn’t sure how she feels about it. 

The time has now come for the bathrobes. The mini one comes off its hook first. It’s a little difficult to maneuver her body into the robe, but you soon get it situated on her and tie the fuzzy belt at her waist. She is a purple marshmallow, and the cuteness threatens to make your heart burst. A pleasurable sigh hums through you as you slip into your own robe. The way it feels like you’re wearing a pillow and cuddled up cozy but not constricted or overheated has you daydreaming about wearing this every single day. 

“Come on you,” you say, picking up your fashion twin. “Let’s go see Daddy.”

Footsteps approach the living room and Eddie turns his head from the television to see you and Eliza making your entrance. A laugh of amusement falls from your husband’s lips.

“Look at my girls! A vision in purple!”

You walk around the couch and sit down on his lap, holding Eliza on your own.

“Tell Daddy that we had a nice relaxing time.”

“Good,” Eddie says and presses a kiss to your cheek. A strong hand rubs up and down your back and it relaxes you even further. 

“Where are the boys?” you ask, voice sounding slightly distant as his touch lulls your body practically pliant.

“In the kitchen,” Eddie says, “going over the takeout menu for the Chinese place a few blocks over. So we’ll probably see them in an hour or two.”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you snuggle up against your husband, your baby cocooned between you.

“I love Chinese food.”

“That’s why we’re getting it, princess. It’s your day,” Eddie tells you before looking down at your daughter. “Right, Liza?”

Eliza simply blinks at him in response and buries her face in the soft fabric of your robe.

“Oh,” Eddie says as a thought resurfaces in his mind. He looks over the back of the couch to make sure neither of the boys are coming. “I have to tell you what Luke said. And, well, Ryan too.”

“What is it?”

Eddie’s smile is one filled with happiness and pride and it’s making you all the more curious. 

“When you were in the bathroom—excuse me, I mean spa—Luke was telling us about the art class and how much fun it was. Then he kind of pauses and says, ‘You know…no, never mind. It will sound stupid.’ But I was like, come on, what’s on your mind, kid? And he goes, ‘I’ve always known how much Ryan and I are loved by everyone; our family. But I guess seeing how we’re treated the same way…’ And then he trailed off and sighed, and I think he couldn’t figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. But I guess Ryan knew where he was going because he took over. He says, “We’re not treated any differently than Eliza. We’re all…’ Then he trailed off, but I caught where they were going then. So, I said, ‘You’re all her kids. Each one of you three is just as much her child as the other two. There’s no difference.’”

Tears flood your eyes but you’re not entirely sure what emotion is provoking them.

“They thought—” your voice cracks and you can’t continue.

“No, no, hey,” Eddie reassures you. “Both of them said it was something they never thought about. Not even after Eliza was born. But I guess a kid in Luke’s class or something says his stepdad doesn’t treat him like his son and Luke thought that was crazy. All he’s known since he was five is you loving him as if he’s your own. Because he is your son. Then I guess Luke talked to Ryan about it and they thought back and couldn’t think of a time where you treated Eliza as more important than them. I think it was an emotional revelation. One that they don’t take lightly. They know that they’re your babies, too. God, I wish you could’ve seen the looks on their faces when we were talking about this. Just the pride they have that you’re their mom. That you chose them and love them as fiercely and deeply as possible. Sweetheart, the only thing that was my idea today was the spa with Eliza. Everything with the boys? That all came from them. I hope you know how much they love you.”

“I do,” you admit with a sniffly smile, cheeks completely stained with tear tracks. “They chose me too. They’re my sons.”

Eliza looks up at you and babbles and coos, clearly wanting to be part of this conversation. 

Both you and Eddie chuckle at her insistence and Eddie takes the opportunity to wipe your face. 

“And you’re my daughter,” you say to Eliza. 

“No denying that with how much you look like Mommy, huh?” Eddie says, running the back of his forefinger down Eliza’s soft, chubby cheek. 

“Hey!” Luke says as the boys come back into the room, Ryan holding the takeout menu in his hand. “Why didn’t we get matching robes too?”

“The color clashes with your skin,” Eddie quips.

“I’d like to be included in these things is all I’m saying,” Luke says as he sits on the couch perpendicular to the one you’re on.

Ryan perches on the arm of the couch you’re on and opens the menu.

“We figured out what we want,” Ryan says, offering the menu to Eddie. “We circled them.”

“In red pen,” Luke adds. “The blue pen is from the last time we ordered.”

“Red pen,” Eddie repeats. “Got it.” 

Reluctantly, you slip off of his lap so he can go call and make the order. Truthfully, you’d rather stay curled up in your husband’s lap, forget the Chinese food, and survive on Eddie’s cuddles alone.

“Want your usual, babe?” Eddie asks you.

“Yes please.”

The sound of footsteps fades the closer Eddie gets to the kitchen. You wave both of the boys over to come sit with you.

“Boys,” you stage whisper.

They come over, Luke plopping down on your left side and Ryan hunkering down on your right. Gently, you tuck Eliza between your and Ryan’s bodies before you wrap an arm around each of the boys’ shoulders and pull them in for a hug.

“Thank you for—oh, yes, Eliza you’re included in this too,” you say when Eliza harrumphs at you. “Thank you for the most amazing Mother’s Day. This was one of the best days I’ve ever had.”

“In your whole life?” Luke asks.

“In my whole life,” you affirm. “And thank you all for making me a mom. It’s the hardest but coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Being your kid is pretty cool, too,” Luke says. “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Eliza knows that as soon as she understands words.”

With a tired but content smile, you lean back against the cushions on the couch and immediately feel little hands and knees digging into various parts of your body as Eliza climbs up your body and makes herself comfortable, her clean head and hair coming to rest on your chest. From the position you were in when you hugged the boys, your arms are still stiff and wide open, and Luke is the first to take advantage of that.

He tucks himself into your side, resting his head on your shoulder. Ryan copies his actions (instead of the other way around for a change) and leans against your right side, careful of Eliza’s tiny head that is so close to his. 

For a few moments you just sit there, thinking. Enjoying this time, with all three of your children in your arms. You close your eyes and savor it, just you and your babies in this moment.

Eddie strolls back in from the kitchen.

“Food is on its way—oh. Well, don’t we all look comfortable?” Eddie smiles as his gaze roams over the couch, taking in every detail of the four of you. His oldest babies who helped get him through one of the worst periods of his life. You, the great love of his life who saved him in every possible way. And the small baby girl that the two of you created together. 

You tilt your head and rest it against Luke’s, looking up at Eddie with a soft smile. 

His eyes meet yours and no words need to be said. Everything you need to express to one another is in that look. The love, the happiness, the gratefulness. Both of you realize the million and one things that had to line up just right for this moment to be a reality. It’s exciting to think about what the choices that were made today will lead you to in your future together. Only time will tell—and right now? This particular moment is one you’d like to pause. Maybe pause it until you can wring every moment of blissfulness from it that you possibly can. But you already know that would be impossible—the joy in this moment is endless.

[aviiarie]

♡ — GENSHIN GIRLS AS CHAPPELL ROAN SONGS !

cws & notes. no warnings. various genshin girls x fem!reader. 750+ words. they're all sapphic in my heart. if you like this you might enjoy my good luck babe! inspired furina fic :D

— FURINA · good luck babe!

she can't call it love. the word is on the edge of her lips, lingering on her tongue, but she never speaks it out loud. she just wants to keep things the way they are, keep you close to her without that word hanging over her head. it's nothing serious, so why bother to call it anything at all? she'll ignore the way her heart flutters and her head spins as long as it takes to keep you by her side.

but it isn't enough, is it? because you leave anyway, and she is left with the shadow of your figure chasing the corners of her memory for the rest of her life. in the years to come, she will forget your favourite colour and the way your lips tasted, but she'll always be haunted by the echo of your voice sounding in her head: 'i told you so.'

— CHIORI · red wine supernova

falling in love with you is like falling into a supernova. she was never too interested in pursuing love on her own, but with you, she just seemed to fall into it so easily. it was like you were a star, burning brighter and hotter than the sun, filling her days and nights with light. when she kisses you, she can almost feel fire spark against her lips, like your touch is enough to ignite. it's almost overwhelming, the amount of emotions that brew so quickly, but that doesn't chase away the thrill.

there's something that's so bright about you it's almost blinding. your smile sends her heart beating a mile a minute, your words make her brain fry. no one else has ever made her feel so much that it almost scares her. but if this was love then she would gladly let herself fall for you.

— NAVIA · casual

hearing you call it 'casual' kills her. she smiles and laughs it off, like it's all light-hearted, pretending you're just teasing. it's easy to pretend, to close her eyes and picture the two of you moving into the same apartment, dancing in the kitchen like a couple in a cheesy romcom. it hurts, every time you remind her not to get attached. can't you see she already has, already is? can't you see the adoration in her eyes? can't you see how much she is in love with you? nothing about you is casual, but she bit her tongue until it bled and held back her tears.

she's sick of it. after all the nights of tears she shed, after everything you've been through together, if you won't call it what it was, then she would. she doesn't care what your friends say, anything is better than calling it casual. she's done with letting herself be stifled, letting her love be wasted. she's sick of hating herself. call it casual all you want, she knows the truth and she'll make sure everyone else does too.

— YELAN · super graphic ultra modern girl

she can't deal with another cheap date with a man who doesn't care about her. what she needs someone refreshing, someone fun. she needs a girl who is as dazzling and exciting as she is, someone who can keep her on her feet and send her heart racing. no more wasting perfectly good friday nights on guys who didn't have a single interesting bone in their body, she's after something new.

and that's you. you, who arrived in her life like a firework and continued to crackle and spark ever since. she's transfixed by you, the way you move, the way you speak, the way you laugh. every part of you is mesmerizing, and she can't seem to tear her eyes away.

— KOKOMI · kaleidoscope

it's impossible to describe what you meant to her. there weren't enough words in the dictionary to explain how she felt, not enough colours in the rainbow to paint every shade of love that filtered through her vision when she looked at you. and yet now she was left with a painful monochrome, missing the one person she loved more than anything else in the world.

she's not going to make you stay. she cares about you too much for that. and she'll never fault you is you end up falling in love with someone who isn't her, but part of her does break every time she thinks of it. she doesn't know how love works, it's a mystery to the both of you. but she knows she loves you, and that has to count for something.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[nohoney]

there’s knocking at bakugou’s front door that he assumes is from you, probably too drunk from your girls night out to get your house keys out from your purse. imagine to his surprise when he opens the front door and he sees three of your girlfriends carrying you together while the fourth one was the one who knocked on his door and you’re knocked out.

“hey bakugou, (name) is home safe and sound!”

he’s gotta hand it to your friends, they’re good ones for carrying you all the way up to the front door.

“thanks, you can give her here. i got her.” bakugou offers up his arms for your friends to relieve them of carrying you.

“no we can take her in, we just wanna kiss her goodnight.”

god the amount of affection you and your friends have for one another once you’re all wasted is something else. but bakugou has long gotten used to it too so he steps aside to let your friend group in. even as your head lolls, one of them carefully readjusts so that your head doesn’t hang at an awkward angle. it sort of reminds bakugou of the one time sero had to carry kaminari over his shoulder after getting too wasted at a house party.

you’re laid down on the big couch you and him purchased together recently, all of them gathered around you and making sure that you’re comfortable. it must be some sort of intuition you have to know that your girls are about to leave that you suddenly open your eyes, still pretty drunk, and you open your arms for your girls. bakugou watches as you and your friend group drunkenly voice your love for one another, smirking a little when one kisses you on your mouth and the other one playfully grabs at your tit with a compliment of how hot you looked tonight.

“bakugou, this is our girl okay? you better take care of her!”

“yeah katsuki!” you join in on hanging up on him, “if you do some stupid shit, they’re gonna get you!”

oh he has no doubt about it; one of the girls in your group is somewhat notorious for petty revenge and even he would not be up for that.

bakugou bids your girlfriends good night, watching from the front door as they all gather into their car. he waves them off as they drive away, the friend that knocked on his door being the designated driver to take the others home. he shuts off the porch light and locks his front door, already knowing the drill of what you want when you’re this drunk at this hour.

“tsuki, i’m hungry and i want-“

“macaroni and cheese with fries. i know baby.” bakugou finishes your sentence, kneeling down to take off your high heels first and then holds the palm of his hand up, watching as you carefully peel off your fake eyelashes and you place them in his hand. “you gonna clean these or toss them?”

“toss.”

into the trash your lashes go and bakugou brings out the boxed macaroni and heats up the air fryer. you go into the bathroom where your makeup remover and all your skincare is already laid out for you, taking in a breath as you gather all two brain cells you have left to clean your face and at least do a body rinse in the shower.

food is ready by the time you exit the bathroom but you haven’t sobered up quite yet. while you eat your usual drunk-past-midnight meal bakugou comments, “i like your friends.”

“yeah, they’re great aren’t they?” you agree with a nod before munching on a crinkle fry. “they like you too. they say i should marry you.”

“really?” bakugou chuckles, “and here i am thinkin’ that my girl is gonna leave me to elope with her girlfriends instead.”

“they’re gonna be my bridesmaids when we get married.”

your words bring a fuzzy, sentimental feeling bloom in his chest. he knows that you’re drunk still and you possibly won’t remember this conversation, but he wants to hear more of what you have to say. “is that so? you talked about our wedding already?”

in drunken detail and while eating your food at the same time, you go over how each of your girlfriends will help support you in planning your supposed future union with bakugou. he listens, not bothering to hide the smile on his face as you go on and on. you talk more about how your friends will be involved rather than you and him but bakugou likes it. he likes how your friends like him and that they’re the most supportive group of girls he’s ever seen.

“you’re gonna wear a orange tie, mmkay? and we’re gonna have a mango cake!” you start to go off about what kind of food will be served at the wedding as bakugou cleans up the plates before you abruptly declare, “katsuki, you’re the only guy my friends like. the only one so don’t fuck this up, okay?”

“i won’t sweetheart, not with your gals ready to hide my body if i break your heart.”

you don’t remember the conversation the next morning when you wake up with a pounding hangover. but bakugou does. he remembers it as he gazes at you with a drink hand, wearing the orange tie you told him to wear and little bites of mango cake having already been fed to him by you. he watches how you hug your bridesmaids, your best friends, the girls who carried you home when you got too drunk and supported your relationship with him.

bakugou remembers how he waved off the girls that night as they drove back to their houses, and now they’re the ones waving you off as you and bakugou get into your car together to head to the airport for the honeymoon.

“you know my girls told me that i should marry you?”

bakugou plays dumb to the question, just only to hear the story from you again how he earned the seal of approval from your closest friends. he owes a mountain of gratitude to them because you and him probably wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.

they were the ones who told you to go up to him after all.

[thrashkink-coven]

people who don’t understand neopronouns or therians are immediate red flags to me as people who probably don’t understand neurodivergency, polyamory, alt subcultures, or paganism either. Basically just anything that isn’t immediately simple and easy to define. People somehow seem blind to gray areas and nuances and I don’t understand why.

“Why not go by he or she? or even they? why does it have to be so complicated?!”

Because humans are complicated and this word fits xim better. Language has been evolving to be more specific for centuries, xer not doing anything different than he or she is.

“Why do they look like that if they don’t want me to stare at them?”

I guarantee your opinion was not the determining factor of their outfit choice today. Green is their happy color and spiky hair makes them feel cool. What other reason do they need? Everything isn’t about you.

“How do you identify as something nonhuman?! that makes no sense??!”

Probably because cats are the only creature they’ve known to not question their habits and force them to make eye contact. Maybe they relate more to animals than humans because you’re all so cruel.

“How can you be an it?! You’re not an object?!”

Maybe this person just generally doesn’t identify with being humanized in general. Who cares.

“This is all really weird they probably have some kind of mental disorder”

Okay? And? Maybe they do? What’s your point? What’s wrong with that? Why can’t they live peacefully with their disorder? Why can’t they be a person with DID? Why can’t they do age regression? Because it makes you uncomfortable? If these things are helping them cope and not causing harm, what’s the issue? That it’s too complicated to deal with? Maybe you don’t actually want to have a relationship with this person and should just leave them alone.

“I just don’t get all the freaky chanting and stuff. Seems like demons possessing you”

Oh yeah, you probably don’t “get” stimming either, do you? Moshing? Nope? Didn’t think so. Yeah wild idea but maybe howling and clapping actually feels good for some people. Maybe it even feels… really good.

“I just don’t get how you can be multiple things at once”

You probably don’t get how you can worship multiple Gods at once either, huh? Or even… be more than one person at once? Be more than one gender at once? Love more than one person at once? All of these concepts must fry your little brain don’t they?

“well sorry, I just don’t get it. It’s too much for me”

Although I don’t think it’s all that difficult, (hey buddy, are you maybe perhaps a little bit stupid?) you don’t actually have to “get” it to respect it, or at the very least respect people. Humanity is and always has been complicated. Get with the program dummy.

[tootiecakes234]

Y/N taking care of sick Katsuki

“Katsuki can you please lay your ass down! You’re not going to work!” You say exasperated.

“ ‘ve gotta *disgusting ass sneeze* gotta go. People are dyin.” He says with his words slurred.

He’s been sick since last night and refused to take anything for it, saying it’d wear off by morning.

It hadn’t.

“ ‘Suki I’ve already called the agency and told them you weren’t going to be there. You can’t save anyone in this condition so please…. Just lay down.”

You’re trying to pull him back in the bed because when you left the room for 5 minutes the idiot had gotten up and “tried” to start getting ready.

“You did? What’d they say?” He asks as he lays back reluctantly sits down on the edge of the bed.

“They said they were so shocked and surprised you’d met a sickness that could put up a fight against your immune system. Apparently they took it serious because you’ve never taken a sick day before…. Surprise surprise.”

He slowly leans back into the pillows and fumbles underneath the covers while you tuck him in.

He’s running a fever and extremely congested. Poor thing can hardly sleep because of his nose.

You stand up straight heading to grab another blanket to lay on top of him when you feel his big, hot hand wrap around your wrist. Apparently his reflexes had not been slowed.

“Where ya goin?” He asks sounding a little sad.

It makes you smile.

“I’m just grabbing you another blanket.” And you rub your hands through his hair. He lets out a little sigh.

“And to get you medicine because you’ve gotta get that fever down before it starts to fry your brain. Ya can’t be a know-it-all if you start losing brain cells”

And then you know he wasn’t feeling good because there was no snarky remark to follow up and no resistance when you mentioned the medicine.

All he said was “hurry back” as his eyes fluttered closed.

You get to the medicine cabinet and read through everything there until you find something to treat his symptoms. Then you run to fridge, grab a cup of water and electrolyte packet and mix it together. And grab a blanket from the living room on your way back.

When get back Katsuki is tossing and turning like he can’t get comfortable.

“ ‘m freezing. Is the air on?” He says softly.

“No you just have the chills. Here I got the blanket” and you set everything down then slide the big fluffy blanket on top of him.

“ there you go. Can you sit up a little for me?”

He complies pulling his body up with the little strength he has left.

“Do you have body aches?” You ask as you take 2 of the pills out of the bottle.

“Mmm” and you take that as a yes.

“Here, open.” You say and then your raise the glass of water to his mouth. “Try to drink a little more. You’ve been sweating, you need liquids.”

He takes a couple more gulps before he pulls back from the cup.

He lets out another big sneeze and you grab a tissue to clean his nose. He lets out a loud groan. “I think I’m fucking dying! Is this death??”he lays back pulling the blankets over himself. “If this is it, tell everyone I put up a good fight.”

That makes you chuckle. “You’re not dying. You just never get sick so you don’t know that this is how it feels. You don’t die it just makes you want to.”

“Get your ass in bed and hold me. Might be the last time.” He murmurs pulling on your shirt.

“What if I don’t wanna be up under you? You’re gonna get me sick.”

Suddenly his eyes are stretched open and he’s looking at you like you just cussed him tf out.

“If you don’t get your ass- cough, cough cough, choke- get in bed.” He says all strangled.

“Ok, ok. Maybe you are dying.” You say as you cross overtop of the blankets and lay on top because honestly it’s pretty warm already.

“If you get me sick are you gonna return the favor and take care of me too?” You ask as he snuggles as close as he can with the plethora of blankets between the two of you.

“Don’t I always take care of your cry baby ass.” It’s not even a question so much as it is a smart ass statement.

“Yea but my bedside manner is a lot better than yours.” You inform him while you scratch his scalp”

If he hears that he doesn’t respond but then you hear the mouth breathing he’s been doing even out and you figure out that he’s already sleeping.

He’s turned into such a big baby.

You stop playing is his hair for a second and this man’s brow furrows like he’s about to throw a tantrum so you start up again and his face smooths.

Lmao you were in for a very long day of babying him until he felt like himself again.

*I’m prob gonna do a vice versa where Katsuki takes care of sick reader🤗

Katsuki Masterlist

*let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list🥰

Tags: @dreamcastgirl99 @xxvendettaxx @justbepeace @moonpieshawdy @theloveofnagiseishiroslife @mintsbubbletea @darkstarlight82 @anon-mouse223 @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @i-literally-cant-with-this @flowerbedbaby @kit-katsukii @blaize-hewwo @sweetblueworm @tippy-toes @superlegend216 @kxtsxkii @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @burgvndy @fluffismystaplefood

[ohsc]

Do you think you could do some Destiel fluff? <3

destiel, 1.1k, finale doesn’t exist, fluff, domesticity, background saileen, unedited

Honestly, it’s a wonder that Dean was able to breathe at all, sometimes.

He and Cas had been… whatever they were for two weeks. Kissing and cuddling and indulging in each other for two weeks. It was fucking scary, shoving past the part of his brain that said he was undeserving, that said he didn’t get to be happy, that eventually it would end like everything else good he’d ever had. But whenever he got too in his head, Cas was there with his stupidly soft smile and stupidly soft lips, and melted any coherent thought from his brain entirely.

His heart still stopped whenever he kissed him, sometimes he had to remind himself to keep breathing, or more embarrassingly, Cas had to remind him.

Whatever. Who fucking cares. He finally had what he wanted — Castiel.

Bacon was sizzling in the pan in front of him when he felt warm palms against his waist, and Dean honestly felt butterflies. And fuck off, he wasn’t a thirteen year old girl, but Cas had an unfairly huge talent at getting him speechless and flustered.

The arms slid forwards and around his waist, strong arms squeezed, and his heart stuttered in his chest when he felt a kiss pressed between his shoulder blades. Jesus Christ.

“Last time you distracted me in here we almost started a fire.” Dean scoffed, voice still a little deep with the lingering cling of sleep. Stood in an old tatty Metallica shirt and boxers, it was clearly the angel’s favourite look on him. In the mornings he was handsy.

“I promise to not let you start another fire, Dean,” he murmured into his shoulder blade where another kiss was pressed. Dean shivered. “I simply wanted to hug you.”

It should have been criminal how gooey he went inside. Cas had attached himself to his back like they were a pair of stickle bricks, and he didn’t have it in him to make him let go. He’d never been comforted by the touch of another before. On the hard days, days after bad cases or nights plagued by nightmares, the angel’s touch was enough to break through the fog in his head and soothe him entirely. He’d spend an entire lifetime in his touch if he could.

“Sap,” he scoffed instead, not mentally there enough to convey just how sweet it was, though his hand left the handle of the frying pan and reached down, squeezed one of the tanned arms snaked around him. “Gonna stay there all morning, facehugger?”

A soft huff of breath against the back of his neck. “I’m attached to your back, Dean, not your face.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah, pity.”

The arms around him shifted, and before he could make the connection to his brain what exactly happened, a warm palm was on his cheek and tipped his head to the side in time for his mouth to slot over Dean’s easily, and it felt like his heart was on the way to just giving out. A breathy little sound escaped up and out of his throat and his hands clutched at his shirt, frying pan and breakfast and the fire from last time completely forgotten.

It wasn’t even a particularly steamy kiss. Cas’ mouth moved slowly against his own, a thumb stroked along the skin of his cheek like he was being committed to memory, and when the angel finally pulled back his expression was so soft.

“Dean.”

“Mm?”

“Breathe.”

His inhale was shuddery as he clung to the other’s shirt, absolutely detesting the way his ears heated up in embarrassment, even more so when he was being smirked at. “Asshole.”

Cas just kept smirking, amused. “I’m sorry, it’s just a very nice feeling, knowing that I can get you like that.”

His face was hot too by the time he turned back to the pan to flip the bacon again, grumbling as he did so.

There was a soft laugh behind him before Cas was velcro against his back once more. Warm palms that once held blades and fought in the battles of heaven dipped beneath his shirt and stroked the soft skin of his abdomen, and Dean couldn’t imagine the idea that his heaven could be anywhere else but right there.

They stayed in a comfortable silence as he plated up the bacon and eggs from the stove. Every now and then he heard a soft hum behind him, or a kiss to his shoulder blades, and every now and then Dean lifted one of the angel’s hands and pressed a kiss to his knuckles with a smile.

Fuck the white picket fence and the mortgage, this was the apple pie life he desired.

Eileen’s soft laugh from down the hallway drew Dean’s attention from the soft mouth on the back of his neck and his hands reached down to pry the arms off of his waist. “Let go, you’re like a weed.”

Castiel grumbled against his shoulder. “Why won’t you just tell them?”

“Because it’s funnier not to.” Dean snorted.

He and Cas had already been having sex for a whole week when Sam came to him and gave him a lecture about feelings and how much you mean to Castiel. And instead of spilling the beans on the whole relationship thing, he’d bit the inside of his cheek to hide his smile until he laughed about it to his angel later. In his eyes it was hilarious, he honestly just wanted to see how long it took his giant baby brother to figure it all out.

Cas huffed again, though that time he did let go, and stepped across the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine as Sam and Eileen wandered into the kitchen. His brother’s hair looked like a bird’s nest and she was wearing one of his shirts like a dress — something he teased her for with a wiggle of his eyebrows to get Sam to glare at him with pink cheeks — but it was just nice to see his brother so happy. All those years ago, he hadn’t got to see what Sam was like with Jess, the girl who had once been it for him. It left a warm feeling in his chest whenever he got to watch Sam smile all dopey at Eileen, sickly-sweet in love.

He dished out plates of food, meeting his angel’s eyes across the room whilst Sam and Eileen talked away at the table in their own bubble.

“You owe me.” Cas mouthed, and the look on his face made Dean’s insides go all silly stupid with want again.

“Love you too.” He mouthed back, grinning.

[amongemeraldclouds]

tongue tied

Lorenzo Berkshire could sweet talk his way into any situation he desired. So why couldn't he find the right words when it came to you? (fluff)

Lorenzo Berkshire x f!Reader

My official entry for @thatdammchickennugget and @finalgirllx ‘s Jinxed July challenge using the water balloon prompt for week one.

✿ Masterlist | 758 words

“Where are you off daydreaming to?” Mattheo approached Enzo, wrapping an arm around his shoulder as his other hand shook the water balloon.

He followed Enzo’s gaze to you as you peacefully read under a tree. “Oh, not what but who. I’ve got to give it to you, summer just started and you’ve already got a new girl in mind.”

“Shut it,” Enzo replied curtly, “it’s not like that.” It was always easy for Enzo to speak to anyone, but when it came to you, he always found himself dumbfounded.

He had meant to ask you out earlier in the year when he sat beside you in Charms class. He found you more magical than any spell he learned. You had been kind and patient, like the time he accidentally turned his hair pink with the coloravia charm and you helped him turn it back. You also had fun in class like when you used the locomotor charm to levitate your quills and make them race around class.

Each time he tried to ask you out, his tongue and stomach would be in knots. If only there was a charm for that. It wasn’t like him at all. He was supposed to be the one with the charming smile who said all the right words. And yet.

He never cared about losing. He could always change his strategy, be with different people, and get what he wanted in the end. But when it came to you, the stakes seemed higher. He couldn't afford to lose and it scared him just as much as it excited him. 

“Here’s a novel idea for you, why don’t you just approach her?”

Enzo elbowed Mattheo's side. “I’m working up to it,” he huffed. Perhaps if he played the words in his head several times, he could say them smoothly. 

“What? Did the heat fry your brain? You’ve never had to ‘work up’ to anyone,” he tilted his head to the side, studying Enzo’s face as a grin crept onto his friend’s face.

“No.” Enzo stated, reading into Mattheo’s grin. It never meant anything good. 

“I was just about to offer my help,” Mattheo said innocently despite the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“I didn’t say I needed—”

“Too late!” Mattheo declared as he swiftly swung his arm and hurled the water balloon at you. Splat! You yelped as something hit you below your neck and you felt water seep into your dress, the ink on your book melting into the pages until sentences were reduced to smudged lines. 

He winked at Enzo and mouthed, ‘you’re welcome’ before running away.

Enzo stood horrified as he watched Mattheo’s retreating figure. “That wanker!” He muttered under his breath, quelling the urge to run after him as he returned to your friends. He’d deal with him later, he had other priorities.

Taking a breath to calm his nerves, he rushed over to you. “Sorry about Mattheo.”

You looked over at him, shock and fury swimming in your nerves. Enzo forgot how to breathe. 

“H-hi,” he said weakly, clearing his throat. “It’s charms class from Enzo.” What? He felt his ears burn up with shame as he heard the words, wishing he were a leaf so the wind could carry him away.

You blinked, trying to process his words then broke out into a grin. You pointed at yourself, “it’s also charms class from y/n.”

He chuckled then, unknotting the tightness in his chest. “Can I help you with?” He motioned over to you, trying hard not to notice the way your wet dress hugged your figure. Just like that, the tightness in his chest returned. And it was also tight elsewhere.

“Yes, I want revenge,” you smirked. Salazar, he didn’t think it was possible to fall harder. He felt his heart hammering insistently, as if trying to escape his chest to leap over to you.

“Your book,” he said, trying to distract himself. “Maybe you would want to go a new one tomorrow and get a bookstore with me?” Who were words? How were sentences? What was he? It was all a mystery.

You laughed good-naturedly, he was adorable. “Whatever that was, yes.” You had liked him for a while and enjoyed spending time with him in class, but you always thought he was just being nice like he was with everyone.

Yet here he was, stumbling over his sentences. You had never seen him flustered like this before and wanted to put him out of his misery. “Now where can we get those water balloons?”

A/N: I had a longer plot in mind, but last week was personally tough for me so this will do for now. The plot idea I'm referring to will be featured in a future fic instead so stay tuned.

✿ Masterlist

[pretty-red-garnet]

Brothers

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Quarry • Fluff

This took so long and I am not happy with it at all. I am so sorry to the anon who requested this! I don’t know what’s gotten into me, I just could not figure out what to write for this request. Again, so sorry. I hope to get back into writing more soon!

Part 2

     Chaos. Everything was complete chaos. Gunshots, groans of walkers, the kids screaming in panic, Shane shouting orders. A rifle thrown in your hands, fingers trembling as you took shots, walkers falling to the ground. Lori, Carol, and the two kids were hustled into the RV, and you stood guard by the door.

     Rick and the group came back from Atlanta suddenly, yelling and shouting and putting more guns in more people hands. Your eyes kept flicking to your brother, Shane, as he took down geeks. Everything was going so fast and your head was spinning.

     And then, silence. It was eerie, how so much panic and chaos could turn quiet so shortly. The once bustling camp enjoying a fish fry now was now nearly half the size. The earth beneath your feet was covered in blood, some red and fresh from the people, some was almost back, the walker blood.

     Andrea dropped down to her sister and let out a cry, and that's when you finally turned away, opening the door to the RV and letting them know it was clear. A hand dropped to your shoulder and you flinched, the tips of your fingers brushed the knife at your waist before you realized.

     "You good?" Shane asks, and you give him a jerky nod. He pats your shoulder once more and parts from you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and survey the camp.

     There's bodies everywhere, both human and undead. You can't stand looking at it, you can't stand Andrea's cries as the background noise. You turn on your heel and begin walking away, towards the woods. Maybe it wasn't safest, but you needed a breather away from everything. They were beginning to stab the brains of the dead, and you couldn't watch them put down the people you once considered friends.

     You sit heavily on a overturned tree, the rifle you swung on your back makes a metallic noise when it hits the wood. You sigh, bringing your elbows to rest on your knees as you bury your face in your hands.

     You're only alone for a moment before you hear footsteps and you shoot your head up, heart racing and eyes glancing about before you spot Daryl. You huff out a breath and take your eyes off him, hastily brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

     "You're getting sloppy, heard you from a mile away," you tease, your voice teary. Daryl scoffs and plunks himself down on the trunk beside you.

     "Didn't wanna scare you." You nod, because you knew he had purposely made himself known. You'd been hunting with the archer enough times to know he was never sloppy.

     "Did my brother send you?" You ask, still staring down at your shoes out of embarrassment that he'd seen you like this. All teary eyed and pathetic looking.

     "Nah, too busy starin' at Lori and Rick," he says. It's your turn to scoff now. "You alright?"

     "Yeah," you answer, risking a little glance at the man beside you. He was biting his lip in a way that made you believe he was worried, so you force a little smile. He doesn't look convinced.

     "No Merle?" You ask. Daryl shakes his head, breaking his gaze from yours. "I'm sorry." Daryl throws you a little glare out the corner of his eye, but it lacks any sort of real anger. "I am."

     "Sure," he says, sarcastically. You narrow your eyes and bump his shoulder with yours.

     "Ok, I know me and him weren't exactly besties," your emphasis on the word makes Daryl give you an exasperated look. You just smile. "But I can still be sorry, I know how much you care about him." Daryl hums. "Besides, I don't think anything will take down that man. I'm sure he's fine."

     "Yeah, probably," he says with a huff of air escaping his lips. You're both quiet for a moment, and Daryl eyes you worriedly. "You sure you're alright?"

     "Yeah," you say with a shrug. "Just... worried. About everything."

     "I get that." You get silent again, and Daryl starts to bite and pick at the skin on his thumb. "But you don't gotta be."

     "I don't?" You ask, brows pulled forward and looking at Daryl intently. "Why's that?" Daryl shrugs and decides that the ground is more interesting than looking at you.

     "'Cause I'll always look out for you," he answers, quietly. You smile and place your hand on Daryl's shoulder in a gentle manner. He flinches just a bit before turning his blue eyes to you. He has a soft expression on his face, the one that's reserved for only you

     "Thank you," you say, in a sincere and soft way Daryl's never heard directed at him before. He nods, shakily. "I'll always look out for you, too."

     "I know," he answers, standing up. "Come on, ain't safe out here."

     You aren't completely sure when the unlikely friendship of you and Daryl began. A cop and a loud, brash redneck wasn't exactly an expected duo. Although, you do know a much different Daryl than most. A much kinder, softer version of himself, one he keeps locked behind a very tall, very solid wall.

     You're sure the only reason Daryl has shown this side of himself to you was because you're the only one to treat him like a person, not like some ticking time bomb. Not like some untamed animal or uncontrollable being, just a person. You had shown him a kindness he wasn't used to, and even after a few attempts at keeping you at arms length, you're closer than ever with the man.

You’d admit that maybe your feelings for the man weren’t completely platonic. But that’s to be expected considering you spend so much time with him. He’d taught you some hunting tips, so you hunted with him most days. All that time together, it wasn’t a complete surprise that a little crush would form.

Daryl leads you back to your tent, avoiding the mess of the dead loved ones. It seems most have agreed major cleanup can wait until morning, and have returned to their reserved tents. Dale stayed on watch, mostly for Andrea's sake, just incase she wouldn't be strong enough to take out Amy, you assume.

Daryl lingers at the opening of your tent. You have a unsure, nervous look to you. Your hands wring and fumble with themselves, and your bottom lip in firmly in place between your teeth. He's not fond of your anxious presence.

"I don't want to be alone," you whisper. You grimace, eyes screwing shut briefly before they open again. "Sorry, that makes me sound so pathetic." You let out a breath of air that's supposed to resemble a laugh, but it falls short. "I'll be ok, I'm not even really alone anyway. Shane's tent is right next to mine—"

"Wanna stay with me?" Daryl asks, before he can even think. The words just escape him, embarrass him, and he's about to take it back before you answer.

"Would you mind?" Daryl wants to say absolutely not, of course he doesn't, but what comes out is a grunt and a shake of his head accompanied by a shrug. Daryl turns towards his tent and juts his chin at it.

"Come on." You follow behind him to his tent. His and Merle's are beside each other, both farther from everyone else's tents. They have their own small fire pit and some tree stumps for chairs. Not far behind is a string of cans, a perimeter for the campsite.

Daryl leads you into his tent, holding the flap open for you to climb in behind him. It's small inside, some clothes and spare bolts for his crossbow laying about. A thick blanket is splayed out to act as a barrier from the hard ground. It's Daryl's turn to be nervous and fumbling, watching you take in the small space.

"Cozy," you say with a smile, laying down on the blanket. Daryl hesitates, sitting near the closed entrance and as far as possible from you. You frown. "Lay down. There's room for both of us." You pat the spot on the blanket beside you.

Daryl's eyes flick from yours to the space beside you. He eventually obeys after seeing your unrelenting gaze and lays down beside you, kicking off his boots and keeping them close.

You watch as Daryl does so. His muscles are tense, even as he lays down. He's stiff as a board, arms crossed on his chest as he stares up at the ceiling of the tent. He's ridged, and you feel the tension radiate off his body in waves.

"Am I making you nervous?" You ask, a teasing tone to your voice. It’s mostly to cover up your own anxiety over being so close to him. Daryl scoffs and turns his face away from you.

"Yeah, right." You laugh softly, and Daryl feels a smile twitch at his own lips at the sound. "Just ain't used to sharin' the covers, better not be a blanket hog."

"I'm not, I promise."

It gets quiet, both just laying beside each other, sleep not catching up with either. The gears in your head spin at a million miles a minute, and Daryl glances at you every few minutes, his own thoughts racing, until finally, you speak.

"Do you ever think..." you pause, and Daryl watches you carefully. "That you just aren't good enough? No matter what you do?" Daryl's brows furrow. Where did that come from?

"Plenty," he replies. "Have I ever thought you weren't good enough? Nah, never." Daryl adjusts so his arm is resting behind his head, he keeps his gaze straight to the ceiling even as he feels your eyes burn into him. "Where's this comin' from?"

"I don't know." You shrug. "Been thinking about it a lot lately. About if something happens and I can't save Shane, or Carl. You." Daryl's heart flips.

     "Took out a lot of walkers today," Daryl says. "I think you'd be right there if anyone needs your help."

     "I'm not strong enough."

     "Stop," Daryl snaps, he whips his eyes to yours.

     "I'm not. I'm not my brother, and I'm not like you or Rick. I'm not strong, I'm not meant for this." Your voice grows weaker as you go on.

     "You're a cop, you helped people, right? You took out, what? Ten walkers all on your own? I saw you." You let out a humorless laugh, tears spring at your eyes.

     "The only reason I became a cop was because Shane did," you admit. "I felt like I had to follow him, to do something."

     "Don't matter." Daryl's brows furrow. He isn't sure where this is all coming from. Sure, he'd seen you seemed to always be behind Shane, following whatever he said to do. It bugged him a little, how he always bosses you around. He didn't think it ever bothered you.

     "It does matter," you say with a scoff and sit up. Daryl follows, slowly sitting up next to you. "I was never meant for it. I could barely even take statements sometimes without wanting to cry."

     "Just means you care 'bout people." You shrug.

     "It means I'm weak." Daryl shakes his head and nudges you with his elbow.

     "Ain't weak. And you ain't pathetic, neither." You hang your head.

     "I wish I was like Shane, he's strong, he helps people."

     "Yeah, well I like you just like this," Daryl admits, even as he feels his face heat up.

     "Yeah?" You finally smile, shyly, turning your head just slightly to peek at Daryl. Daryl clears his throat and lays down, turning his back to you.

     "Ain't saying it again. Go to sleep." You laugh, actually laugh, and lay down.

     "I like you just how you are too, Daryl," you mumble, before sleep finally overtakes you.

Everyone is up early the next morning, you suspect nobody really slept. You had kept waking up every hour, and Daryl was still up staring at the ceiling when you'd glance at him. Footsteps and movement around the camp began right when the sun came up, and you and Daryl followed right after.

Everyone is bustling around now, burning the walkers and burying the dead, as Glenn had insisted. It isn't long before panic shouting is heard from Jacqui.

"Jim got bit! Jim's bit!"

Even more panic, angry shouting from Daryl, and arguing ensues. Daryl wants to kill Jim right then and there— which earned him quite the glare form you— thankfully it quieted him down a little. Rick wants to head to the CDC for a potential cure, and your brother is adamant Fort Benning would be the best bet. You were little ways away from their discussion, chatting with Carl.

"Y/N, what do you think?" Shane asks, suddenly. You sigh and take a few steps closer, away from Carl. You were hoping they would just figure it out and leave you out of it.

"Well," you begin, and Shane's slight narrow of his eyes doesn't go unnoticed. He wants you to go along with him. "I'm sure if there's a cure, Fort Benning would know. They are military, must have doctors."

Daryl scoffs, and you glance to him in surprise. He holds your gaze, but you can't place his expression. Your brows knit in confusion.

"There you have it, Rick," Shane says cockily, breaking you from your trance. You look away from Daryl.

You walk away, leaving the boys to argue further. You honestly don't care where you end up. From the looks of the city, there's nowhere safe, not the CDC, and not Fort Benning. It doesn't matter to you where they decide to go.

"Hey," Shane says, approaching you where you're taking down your tent. You drop the pole you're holding and stand up straight. Shane has a pissed off look on his face.

"CDC then?" You ask. His expression darkens.

"You could've had my back a little," he whispers angrily, getting closer to you. You turn away to hide your rolling eyes. You return to your task.

"I don't care where we go, Shane. It's all the same to me." He grabs your upper arm, not tight enough to hurt, but it's enough to pull your attention back to him.

"Yeah, as long as you get to follow your boyfriend, right?" You narrow your eyes, reeling away from Shane slightly out of shock. His face is close to yours. "Saw you come out of Dixon's tent this morning."

"So what, Shane," you say, yanking your arm from his grasp. "You aren't my father." He exhales heavily through his nose.

"Stay the hell away from that guy," Shane demands, his finger coming up to point at your face. You set your jaw, a fist balls at your side, and you smack his hand away from you. And then, for maybe the first time ever, you don't just do whatever your big brother tells you to.

"Leave me the fuck alone, Shane."

You drop down heavily into the truck's car seat. Daryl glimpses at you from the drivers seat, and he looks at you questionably. You don't say anything, instead glaring out the passenger window so viscously, Daryl's surprised it doesn't shatter.

"You ain't goin' with Shane?" He asks. You scoff.

"No," you answer, shortly. Daryl shrugs, mumbling an 'ok' and starting the engine. He takes off towards the CDC, and you continue your angered glare.

"So, you got your own opinion on this whole thing, or do you always just follow along with whatever your brother says?" Daryl suddenly asks, making you whip your eyes to him. He's staring straight to the road, and you scoff loudly.

"Oh, that's really something coming from you," you say sarcastically, letting out a sharp laugh. "You followed your brother around like a lost puppy, but I'm the one always going along with my brother? Bullshit."

You regret bringing up Merle as soon as you finished your sentence, but anger is clouding your judgment. Your frustration at Shane mixed with Daryl's unwarranted comment is just about too much to handle.

     Although you feel a twinge of guilt, Daryl's comment was ridiculous coming from him. He always would follow his brother around, do whatever he said to do. He never even seemed to care whenever Merle went on racist, sexist, something just plain mean tangents, even if Daryl never agreed or joined.

     But still, Merle was his brother, no matter how awful, that you understood more than anything. Shane was one to ruffle a few feathers too, and you understand better than anyone how oppressive it can be to forever be in the shadow of an older brother. Never getting your own opinion, or word in, forever just following along.

     "You're right," Daryl says. You turn your head to him quickly in surprise. He doesn't face you, his eyes looking at the road in front of him. "I've always gone along with Merle, no matter how shitty he was, or what trouble I'd get in."

     "You're right, too," you admit with a loud sigh, your anger fizzling at Daryl’s sincere tone. "I've never really done, hell, even said what I've wanted. I always just followed what Shane's doing."

“Think it’s about damn time we do what we wanna do,” Daryl says, after a few moments pause.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right!” You exclaim, smiling brightly. “Screw Shane!” Daryl laughs, and you turn your head to fully look at him.

He’s biting at the skin on his thumb, and he gives you a small, crooked grin when he notices your eyes on him. The sun cascading through the window of the truck makes him glow, and you can’t help but think that he looks just beautiful. His bright blue eyes sparking, how his light brown hair looks almost blonde in the yellow light. You’d never noticed just how handsome he is.

“The hell you starin’ at?” He asks suddenly. Your face flushes violently at being caught ogling, and you whip your face towards the window.

“Nothing,” you fumble out, he just hums an unconvinced noise of acknowledgment.

You bite your lip harshly to stop the grin that threatens to split your lips. You sneakily take another glimpse at Daryl, taking in his calm expression, the way his eyes narrow to block out the brightness from the sun.

Maybe it was just a crush, or maybe you’re head over heels in love with him. It doesn’t matter now. All you know is that Daryl understands you like no one ever has, and you aren’t letting that go any time soon.