#Going through my inbox because I get nervous and weird

[littleguypumpkinsheep]

く⁠コ⁠:⁠彡

the squiderrr

[augustvandyne]

flooding ur inbox with addison youre welcome

addison asking what kinda coffee you have, and you tell her and “i’ll have to remember to order that for you, tomorrow morning.” she takes a sip of her coffee “ 7 work for you?” aaaaaa

7 am

The sun shines brightly down onto your face as you order your morning coffee. It’s almost so bright you can’t see a thing, but you manage to squint hard enough to see the man at the cart.

It’s almost too hot to breathe outside, especially with your lab coat on, and you can feel a sweat breaking out across your forehead.

You thank the man whom you’ve come to know in your time at Seattle Grace, and start walking back towards the hospital entrance when Addison pops out of nowhere, almost glued to your side.

You go to take a sip for your piping hot coffee, but Addison reaches her hand out.

“Ah, ah, ah,” She removes the cup from your hand. “You know what always happens. You take a sip and then burn your tongue. And I have to hear about it all day.”

“Mmmm,” You groan, your daily dose of caffeine now confiscated.

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” She rolls her eyes playfully, the two of you standing off to the side near a bench.

“Will I?” You playfully squint back.

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“What makes you so confident?” You flirt back with her, because you’ve had a massive crush on her for months, but she hasn’t seemed to notice.

“Well, to start, you’re on my service today,” She smiles a wide smile, a surge of energy coursing through her veins.

“Aren’t I always?” You joke, reaching for the coffee, but she’s quicker than you, pulling her arm back before you can reach it.

“Oh whatever,” She sticks her tongue out slightly.

“When will I get my coffee back? That I payed for?” You point out.

“In a minute. After it cools down,” She says, eliciting another groan from you.

“I need my coffee,” You pout.

“After. It. Cools. Down,” She enunciates every word, and your eyes are drawn to her lips as they form around her words.

“Fine,” You cross your arms, standing there waiting patiently.

“Look at you, you can actually follow commands,” She winks. “That’s a good girl.”

“Give me my coffee,” You reach out again, and this time she gives it to you.

You drink the coffee, thankfully hiding your face behind the large cup, because her comments have your face hot. But if she asked, it was the sun.

“Whatcha got in there?” Addison has a teasing smile on her face.

“Uh..” You share your coffee order with her, and she is, again, bouncing on her toes with excitement.

“Do we have an exciting surgery today or something?” You give her a weird look because you’d never seen her so chipper.

“No,” Addison’s smile turns into a frown, and you have to admit it’s pretty cute. “Just.. I’ll have to remember to order that for you.”

“What—“

She takes a sip of her own coffee, “Tomorrow morning?”

“Addie—“

Your cheeks flame again as you realize what’s actually happening. Addison Montgomery is asking you out.

“Seven work for you?” Addison has a smirk on your face, no doubt from the red blooming across your face.

“Y— yeah,” You nod fast, both nervous and excited to see what Addison has in store for you.

She takes off towards the hospital doors, her hips having a new rhythm to them. Her head turns and she’s shouting back, “Come on, Dr. L/n. We do have an exciting surgery, and we need to be there now!”

You speed up, knowing this — whatever it is — is going to be fun.

“Good morning, Dr. L/n,” You arrive beside Addison just as she’s getting the two of you coffee.

She gives it to you and you give her a look, “You aren’t gonna gate keep my coffee today?”

“Nope,” She smirks. “I’m in a good mood. I’m feeling generous.”

“Uh-huh,” You say in a disbelieving tone.

“You’re also pretty cute when you complain,” She sighs.

You sip on your coffee, hissing as the hot liquid burns your tongue.

“You know, I would’ve thought you’d have learned by now,” She shakes her head, grabbing the coffee from your hand. “But you haven’t.”

“Addie,” You whine.

She chuckles, “Yep, there it is.”

“Why did you let me have that,” You talk with your tongue sticking out. “That hurt.”

“Because you would’ve cried about it the whole time like yesterday,” She shakes her head with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s get inside. You’ll feel better soon enough.”

Her hand slides over your back, resting on your hip as she leads you into the hospital.

“You know what will help?” She looks down at you, the height difference becoming evident.

“What?” You ask.

“This,” She leans down and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “And an ice cold water.”

You laugh slightly, your cheeks heating up from the affection she’d just shown you. She grabs your hand and the two of you walk further into the hospital.

[justmystyles]

Big Winners - Part 3 (Final Part)

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x record producer plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 2,406

summary: Harry and Y/N have been friends for fifteen years, they finally work together on an album, and it leads them to a night that will change everything for them.

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get this last part out. i hope it was worth the wait! i might slow down on posting for a bit as I want to map out and complete NYIML, as well as start a few other things i have in my head. i might also try to clear out my inbox a bit and finally get to some of your lovely requests.

tags: @abby8694 @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

The ride back to the hotel is spent in silence, Harry and Y/N letting the events of the evening sink in. The thing that kept running on a loop was that kiss. Their first kiss. They had been friends for a decade and a half, and that was a line that had never been crossed. 

Now that it had, neither was sure that they wanted to go back, but they were also nervous that the other didn’t feel the same. Not wanting to ruin or complicate the magic of the moment, they each made a silent vow not to mention the kiss, or wait until the other brought it up. 

The car pulls up to the front of the hotel, Harry gets out quickly, offering his hand to Y/N to help her step out. Their hands remain linked as they walk through the lobby and into the elevator. 

They stand together in the back corner of the empty elevator, Y/N sighs and leans her head down on Harry’s shoulder before finally breaking the silence. 

“I know our phones are probably blowing up with congratulatory messages, but do you think we could ignore all that until tomorrow? I feel like this moment needs to be just us.”

Harry smiles and places a soft kiss on the top of her head. “I think that’s an amazing idea. We can worry about the rest of the world tomorrow, tonight is just about you and I.” 

The elevator door opens, and Harry leads Y/N down the hall to their suite. 

“I can’t get over tonight…” Y/N sighs as they approach the door. 

Harry chuckles as he swipes his key card, opening the door and holding it for Y/N. “I can’t either. It’s been such a hectic night, and it all flew by so quickly.” 

Y/N smiles and nods, her expression quickly turns pensive. “Is it weird of me to say that I’ve never felt closer to you?” She wasn’t technically mentioning the kiss, maybe she just needed to test the waters a little. 

“Not weird at all,” Harry confirms with a dimpled grin. “I was thinking the exact same thing, actually.” 

He pauses for a moment, debating whether or not to bring up the kiss, he decides against it. “Even after all these years, everything we’ve been through, tonight just seemed to bring us closer than ever before.” 

Y/N smiles softly, relieved that he agrees. But he didn’t say anything about the kiss, so she let it go. “I’m going to take all of this off and get into my pajamas. You wanna order the room service and I’ll meet you in your room for food and a movie?”

“Why my room?” Harry asks with a furrowed brow. 

“Because, I’m tired and don’t want to deal with the couch, and you have the bigger bed.” She stated plainly. 

He narrowed his eyes playfully at her. “I hate how logical you are.” She giggled and shook her head. “What do you want me to order for you?” He asks.

Y/N shrugs. “You know me, just get whatever I’d like. I trust you.” With that, she goes into her room to change and take off her makeup. 

A few minutes later, she knocks softly on Harry’s bedroom door. He quickly calls for her to come in, and she enters wearing a pair of pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, her hair in a messy ponytail, and her face makeup free. She is met with Harry, who is sitting on the bed in a pair of pajama pants and no shirt, his back resting against the headboard. 

Harry smiles softly as she climbs into bed beside him. She looked stunning when she was glammed up, but she was at her most beautiful like this. This was the real, authentic Y/N, and she was perfect. 

He had always thought Y/N was beautiful, but they were friends, he had never seen her as anything more. Until that kiss. It was as if something had awoken inside of him, and he saw her in a completely different light. He saw the potential, he saw what they could be. 

He was nervous though. Despite her being the one to initiate the kiss, he wasn’t sure where her head was at. Did she have these feelings too? Or did she just get caught up in all of the emotions in that moment? 

Harry shook the thoughts out of his head, these were all things to worry about another time. He held his arms open and she instantly snuggled against him, he tilted his head and placed a gentle kiss in her hair. 

“Hey, Harry?” She says softly. 

“Hmm?”

“We won a Grammy award tonight.” She says in a soft tone, but the excitement is still clear. 

Harry chuckles and squeezes her a little tighter. “We did, didn’t we?” 

“I think this has been the best night of my life.” “Mine too,” he agrees. 

Before either of them can say anything else, there is a knock on the door. Harry excuses himself to grab the room service, he gives her one last squeeze before hopping out of the bed and leaving the room. 

Y/N watches as Harry walks away, her heart and mind racing. She was trying to decide if kissing her best friend was the best decision, or biggest mistake of her life. 

Over the years, there had been a few fleeting thoughts of what could be with Harry. It wasn’t lost on her that he treated her better than any guy she had ever dated, but she always just pushed those feelings down, not wanting to jeopardize one of the most important relationships in her life.

Now, all of those thoughts and feelings she had been ignoring for years had bubbled to the surface, and they weren’t going to be so easy to just brush off anymore. In the flurry of emotions and activity, she let her guard down and without even thinking, put everything on the line. 

She was grateful that he wasn’t saying anything, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d just let it slide, and they’d never speak of it again. But did she want to never speak of it again? He kissed back, he definitely kissed back, so he felt something too, right? Or was he just caught up in the moment?

“Time to eat!” Harry’s voice breaks her from her thoughts. She turns her head to the door to see him wheeling in a cart full of food. 

“Jesus, how much did you order?” Y/N hops out of bed and helps him lay out all of the plates on the table. 

“It’s a celebration,” Harry shrugs. “Besides, you’re picky, so I wasn’t sure what you’d be in the mood for.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes and chuckles. “I’m not that picky.” 

“The first thing you look for at every restaurant we go to is whether or not they have chicken fingers.” He says with an arched brow. 

“It’s my standby backup food. Pretty much any restaurant is going to have some iteration of chicken fingers, so if I can’t find anything else, I’ll get that. Speaking of…” Her eyes roam over the plates. 

Harry lifts a plate of chicken fingers and french fries. 

“Have I ever told you that you’re my favorite?” She says sweetly and kisses his cheek. “Yeah, every time I buy you chicken fingers.” He chuckles and ruffles her hair. 

She giggles and takes a chicken finger off the plate. 

“Ah ah ah,” Harry chides as he slaps her hand lightly. “Before we eat, I want to do something.” Y/N looks at him curiously. “There are going to be a ton of pictures out there of us all dressed up with our shiny trophies. I want to take one of the real us with our trophies.”

She drops the chicken finger back on the plate, and wipes her hands on her pants while Harry grabs the two trophies and walks over to the full length mirror. 

When she approaches, he hands her one of the trophies and pulls his phone out of his pocket. They stand side by side, Harry takes the hand with his phone in it and wraps it around her shoulder, while she wraps one arm around his torso, the other holding the trophy. 

“Okay, smile.” Harry says in a goofy tone. Once she is smiling, he presses his lips to her temple and snaps the picture. 

They take a few more, their eyes locked on each other through the mirror. The energy feels different, more intimate than it typically does, but they both choose to ignore it. 

Once the impromptu photo shoot is over, they grab their food and get back into bed. Harry throws on a movie, but it’s merely background noise as they spend their night laughing and joking as they recap the evening; avoiding one specific detail in particular. 

Hours later, they’re stuffed from the food, and laying in each other's arms in the bed. 

“Can I stay here? I’m too tired and full to walk to my room.” 

Harry chuckles and nods, he looks down at you and sees your eyes fluttering, as if they could close any moment. “Of course you can,” he says softly, kissing the top of her hair. 

Y/N sighs happily and her eyes finally close. Harry lays there, staring at the ceiling. He knows he should be tired, but all he can think about is that kiss. It had been lingering in his mind all night, and as much as he didn’t want to ruin the moment, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep without talking about it. 

“Hey Y/N, are you still awake?” Harry whispers. 

“Mhm…” She hums sleepily. 

Harry sighs, he feels bad keeping her up, but he knows he can’t keep it inside anymore. He pauses for a moment before finally speaking. 

“Can we talk about… uh, well…” He stutters, not sure how to say it. “You kissed me tonight.” 

Y/N’s breath hitches, her eyes remain closed for a moment before opening them and sitting up. His words wake her up like a bucket of cold water. “Yeah… I guess I kind of did.” She says sheepishly. “But you kissed me back.” She quickly gets defensive. 

Harry chuckles at her comeback, he throws his hands up in surrender. “I did, I know. I’m not denying that.” He takes a deep breath. “I just… listen, you know I love you, and you’re stuck with me forever, no matter what, so no hard feelings either way. I was just wondering if it was… a heat of the moment thing, or in some way intentional…”

Y/N drops her gaze, it definitely helped that Harry said she was stuck with him no matter what. Maybe this wasn’t as bad of a thing as she had thought. They had always been honest in their friendship, so she wasn’t about to start lying to him now. 

“I think it started as a heat of the moment thing, like I didn’t go into this thinking ‘if I win, I’m going to kiss him.’ But when it happened, it felt… good, it felt right.”

A small smile plays on Harry’s face. “Yeah?” 

She looks up at him, her heart starting to race when she sees his expression. “What about you? Did you want to kiss me back, or were you just being polite?” 

“I definitely wasn’t just being polite.” He chuckles. “And it kind of… I don’t know, it opened up this door that I didn’t even know was there. It made me think that maybe this is something more than we’ve thought all these years…”

Y/N nods in understanding. “So, you’ve never thought about us being more than friends before?”

“Honestly, no.” He says quietly, he feels a little bad about that answer; especially with everything he’s feeling now. “Have you?”  

“Maybe once or twice,” she shrugs. “I just, I don’t know, you’re the first person I always go to after a breakup, and we’ll be talking, and you’ll be shitting on the guy, and I’ll just think about how you’re the opposite of all the things you shit on.” 

“But you never-” 

“Because our friendship is too important to me.” She interrupts him. “I always cut those thoughts off as soon as they start, because I never wanted to complicate things. I’m your friend, and what we have is so amazing. I didn’t want to complicate it with extra feelings that could possibly be one sided.” 

“Which they were,” Harry finishes her thought. “Until tonight.” 

“So… what does this mean?” Y/N asks, her heart racing and her stomach in knots. This is a pivotal moment in their friendship, and she’s terrified of what comes next. 

“Well,” Harry starts, a soft, dreamy expression on his face. “If you think about it, we’ve kind of always been a bit like a couple. I mean, you were about to fall asleep in my bed… in my arms. Maybe we should just take that one last step and make things a bit more official.”

Y/N smiles shyly, she can’t remember the last time she ever felt nervous around Harry, because of Harry. “So like, a more than friends situation?” 

Harry chuckles and nods his head, lifting his hand to cup her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “More than friends. Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” 

“That sounded so corny,” she giggles. 

“Sweetheart, if you thought I was corny as your best friend, just wait until you see how corny I can be as your boyfriend.” He says with a goofy smirk. 

“My boyfriend…” She sighs, letting the reality of the moment sink in. 

He lets out a breathy laugh and leans in, pausing just before their lips touch. “My girlfriend…” He whispers before pressing his lips to hers. 

The kiss deepens instantly. Now that their feelings have been fully realized, it’s like fifteen years worth of ‘should have beens’ are all coming to the surface. Harry shifts effortlessly, so that Y/N is laying on the bed with him hovering over her. 

“This really is the best night of my life…” Y/N says softly, as she stares into his eyes.

Harry smirks and leans down, trailing kisses along her neck. “Well get ready, it’s about to get even better…”

[thatshappinessforme]

When We Are Together - Pt. 1 (?)

omg...hi. i'm really here rn. posting this. at nearly 4 am on a monday morning. im nervous. i could vomit. so...this has been in my head for forever. literally. the idea is massive. it extends so far. it's seriously a whole universe in my little brain. it took so long to get the basis of this all out on paper, but, i'm hoping this is a series...a long one. the title isn't going to make much sense right now, but i pinky swear we'll get there eventually. so...without further ado...here she is...(EEK!) (also i have no idea how to set this post up so bear with me lol)

so i guess i just lost my fanfic writing vcard💌

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word count: 2.4k

cw: just a little swearing, maybe a bit of bad writing, also maybe typos?? might be a little boring because it’s mostly to just like set the scene idk? (eventually the plan is to have a lil smut or smth but this really is just an intro lol)

_____________________________________________

The day starts as usual. You wake up to the sound of your alarm and your roommate’s hair dryer blaring through the thin walls of your Brooklyn walk-up. With a groan, you peel yourself out of the warmth of your bed, go to your desk, and open your laptop, holding onto a shred of delusional hope that one of your classes might be canceled for today; they rarely are…but you can’t blame a girl for being an optimist. 

You scroll through your inbox, refreshing, and refreshing – you really don’t want to go to class today. Blame the essay you’d procrastinated that you’d spent all of last night speed-writing. Blame senioritis. Blame the unpaid music publicity internship that you’d been letting eat up your time in hopes of scoring a good job. Blame the frigid snow and ice that seem to be taunting you from outside your window. But, luckily it’s a Friday.

You refresh your inbox one last time, just for good measure. And, something actually comes in. But, it’s not from one of your professors. It’s from some company named “Dirty Hit.”

You raise an eyebrow and open the email, thinking it must be something related to one of the countless jobs you’ve applied for in the last few weeks, preparing for graduation at the end of the semester.

Y/N,

I’m a representative with one of our bands here at Dirty Hit. We’re really impressed with your work and have an opportunity we’d love to discuss with you, if you have a free moment this week at some point. Are you based out of New York? Get back to us when you can. We’re looking forward to hearing from you.

Best,

The Dirty Hit Team

“That’s weird,” you whisper to yourself, reading the short, ominous email over and over again. It’s not everyday that a label reaches out to a random college student to work with them. You’re not really sure what they could possibly be impressed with. You’ve just done minor PR internship work with underground bands from the east coast – that’s not exactly impressive. It sure as hell doesn’t warrant an email.

“Y/N?,” you hear one of your roommates and best friend, Vivian, call from outside your door before walking in, not bothering to knock. The two of you are close, almost like sisters at this point. In some ways, you’re exactly the same person, but in others your polar opposites. She’s a little bit more outgoing than you are, but she always helps to get you out of your shell. “Do you think I can get this guy I’m talking to into the venue tomorrow night? It’s just at The Soundwave, right?,” she asks, plopping down on the corner of your bed. 

Shit. You completely forgot you signed up for an open mic tonight. You’d been playing your songs at small bars in Brooklyn and Manhattan for the past year or so. Songwriting had always been a bit of a hobby for you. So when you’re a broke college student in one of the most expensive cities in the world, you just find tricks to get you and your friends to do fun things for free. You’d learned a while back that performing at open mics usually meant you and your friends could get into bars and clubs without having to pay a cover, so you’d been spending your weekends doing that for a while. It’s all for fun. Sure, you like performing and put a lot into your songwriting, but pursuing it isn’t even quite a dream for you. You have an impending college degree you’ve worked your ass off for. In every sense of the word, music was a hobby for you. 

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be a problem. He might have to pay the cover, but it’s not like it’s the sort of thing where people buy tickets. You know the drill. But, obviously you’re my plus one, so no cover for you,” you nod, still staring at your laptop screen.

“What are you staring at, over there? Everything okay?,” she asks, getting up and moving to stand over your shoulder at your desk. You move your head a little so she can get a good look at the words on your screen. You watch her face as she reads the email, her lips dancing on each of the syllables as you watch her process it. “Dirty Hit? What the hell is that? Sounds like a porn company. Impressed with your work? Do you have a booming, secret OnlyFans I’m unaware of?,” she jokes. 

I laugh and playfully nudge her arm. “No, no,” you giggle, “It’s a record label, I think. I’ve heard the name thrown around a few times at my internship. I think they’re kinda big.” You tab over and do a quick Google search. Immediately, a sea of popular artists and bands pop up under the label.

“Holy shit. Beabadoobee? Bleachers? The 19 fucking 75? I have their fuckin’ poster on my wall. They’re cool as shit,” she reads over your shoulder. “I mean, I have no idea what they could possibly want from me. My resumè isn’t all that impressive. Sure, I’m planning on going into music PR, but there’s no reason why I would stand out against someone who has like…an actual career under their belt,” you ramble, trying to make sense of the 67 words in haunting your inbox. 

There’s a long pause, both of you trying aimlessly to make sense of the email. “Well, you’re gonna email them back, right?,” she eventually asks. You take breath, starting a reply to the email, leaving your cell phone number.

You try to focus on anything other than waiting for a reply. You do your best not to let your mind wander into the what-ifs, but as soon as you get done with your lectures for the day, you check your phone for any response.

Y/N,

Thanks for getting back to us so quickly. The band and management is also in New York for the next few months for a project. We would give you more information over email, but much of the matter is highly confidential. We have a studio space at Electric Lady in Greenwich Village that we could meet at, if that works for you. I know it is rather short notice, but could you meet this evening at some point? Let us know.

Best,

The Dirty Hit Team

You quickly reply to the email on your walk back from campus, confirming the meeting for later this evening. You get back to your apartment and practically tear apart your closet trying to figure out what the hell to wear. You know it’s a business meeting, but it’s also for some mystery band. You don’t want to dress unprofessionally, but you also don’t want to seem uptight. You decide on a black mini skirt with tights and a chunky black turtleneck sweater. You finish primping and step into Vivian’s room, practically out of breath from all the outfits you’ve tried on and scrapped.

“Okay, if you were a band looking for…a PR representative…? Would you hire me?,” you ask her, standing in front of her bed as she looks up from her phone. She looks you up and down and grins, “Of course I would, Y/N. You look great,” she reassures you, sensing you’re anxious, “So, you really think this is just a PR gig?”

“I mean, yeah. What else could it possibly be? It couldn’t be my music. I’m not even on any streaming platforms; I don’t promote it at all,” you say with certainty. She shrugs and smiles, before wishing you the best of luck as you head out the door.

You get on the subway and head to Electric Lady. The train has always been one of your favorite parts about living in New York for college. Putting your pink headphones on, looking out the window into the catacombs that stretch throughout the city, people watching. It’s where you did your best thinking. 

You get off the train and walk through the streets, your headphones on and your music blasting, only interrupted occasionally by Google Maps telling you where to turn and such. Eventually the robotic voice in your ear says “Arrived” and you look over your right shoulder…here it is. You're right on time. You go to open the doors, pushing on them gently; must still be locked. You sigh, assuming that its to be expected. That this is simply upholding a prophecy of some sort that the band and music-industry-folk run behind…until you hear a laugh.

“It’s a pull,” you hear a man’s voice call out with a slight chuckle. From just those three words, you’ve determined that he has one of the thickest English accents you’d ever heard. You look over your left shoulder and see a man leaning up against the wall of the studio smoking a cigarette. “What?,” you ask, confused as you look over to him. He has a hood on and you can’t make out his face, or what he was trying to tell you. “The doors. It says right on them. ‘PULL,’” he chuckles, tossing his cigarette to the ground and putting it out with his Adidas sneaker, walking over to you. “Oh, um, thanks, I’m an idiot. I almost gave up,” you chuckle, pulling the door open this time. The man follows you into the studio, holding the door open once you tug on it. You look back over your shoulder to thank him for holding the door, the first time he’s been close enough for you to make out his face; Christ, it’s Matty Healy.

“I know who you are,” he says to you with a cheeky grin as he starts walking into the back of the studio. You just stand there near the doorway, the gust of cigarette-scented, cold January air lingering around you. You’re perplexed, to say the least. He keeps walking down the hall before finally turning over his shoulder, “You’re just gonna stand there? You have a meeting. Wouldn’t be very professional of you to stand us up,” he teases dryly. You blink a few times before nodding, following him, still in a bit of disbelief that this was the band that had some sort of ‘interest’ in you.

He shows you into a studio in the back. Once he opens the door, there are four other men sitting there, three that you also recognize from your roommate’s wall. The other, a bit older, more professional looking. 

“Y/N! I’m Jamie, I manage these blokes. Thank you so much for agreeing to come meet with us today. I know everything was rather vague on the emails, but…we had to keep it that way. But, now that you’re here, let's talk, yeah? Are you familiar with The 1975?,” the older man asks you, in a super friendly manner as you sit down on a plush chair in the corner of the room. Every eye in the room is glued to you. The air is almost sticky with anticipation. You take a deep breath and try to slap on the most composed, thoughtful, professional smile you can manage.

“Um, yes! Of course,” you nod, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’m actually a fan of you all. Really, I listen to your stuff with my friends – you’re fantastic.”

“Good, good. We’re glad to hear it,” he grins, looking around at the boys who also all look to be pleased. Even though everyone’s eyes are on you, you feel Matty's specifically, practically burning a hole in the side of your head as he stands, still leaning in the doorway.

“We’re impressed with you, Y/N. So, I’m just going to get on with it. George went to a little bar in Bushwick last month and sent us a video he took of you singing one of your originals…you’re bloody fantastic. We’re going on tour this summer. We want to do something a little different this time with our opener. We want to build someone from the ground up. You’re it. We want you. What do you say? You interested?,” he explains with a wide grin, his tone casual like he didn’t just tell you the craziest shit you’ve ever heard. 

Jamie’s words hit you in slow motion. You look around the room, the air moving from feeling sticky to feeling ice cold, jolting you awake. “I’m sorry…what the actual fuck did you just say?,” you blurt out blankly, any ounce of composure you may have had completely gone. 

You immediately catch yourself, your language, your lack of professionalism, though, “Oh my god, I’m sorry. I…that just came out of my mouth…I-,” your face goes bright red as you desperately try to correct yourself.

The room erupts in laughter, the men you recognize from Viv’s poster nearly barreling over off the sofa. Jamie’s jaw on the floor as he howls, slapping the table in front of him. You look over your shoulder to see that Matty’s still in the doorway, and he’s just standing there with his arms crossed, shaking his head at you with a shit-eating grin.

“Oh, I think we’re gonna get along quite well with this one,” he remarks, licking his lips, weirdly impressed with your mispeakings.

You can’t help but sigh softly and shake your own head when he looks at you like that; something in you shifting as if he’s the only person in the room; as if he was the only person who'd ever laid eyes on you; as if he was the only person ever. As if, the offer you got just moments before wasn’t the most absurd thing that had ever happened to you. As if you didn’t need to thoroughly think this all over. As if you could make the decision right now.

You look back over to Jamie, who’s still chuckling. Before you can give yourself the time to overthink, you swing one of your legs over the other, lean back into the chair and smirk, “Jamie, where the hell do I sign?” 

…and this is how it starts.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

It's me still a nervous wreck with ideas that won't go away I did not in fact die of dehydration!

Reader, I um what no I'm not a child! I have an ID!

Gambit, and it was a wonderful fake one really great craftsmen ship! But I knew it was fake from the moment I saw it.

Reader, mother fu-

Gambit, have a welcome to Krakoa gift basket while I get you the really good painkillers.

Twenty minutes later a very drugged reader is looking through the gift basket.

And more ideas because they won't leave my mind

Reader sitting in a Krakoa bar before they leave to find another Mutant, eating waffles

Gambit sits close and tries to convince them to stay, reader asks for an alcoholic drink and hands over their ID which gambit sees and knows is fake from his less then legal past, ladies and gentlemen we got em.

Reader being so confused as to why Gambit seems so happy all of a sudden "you okay dude?"

More ideas that won't go away!

One reader gets better they try and leave but it feels so strange everything seems normal they're in a normal hospital in a normal town and people treat them like a normal teen (ignoring the strange looks and obsession.)

They're confused high on pain meds and have no idea how to leave as they've never been to this part of Krakoa before only staying in towns that have gateways, so they wander aimlessly in a hospital gown and jacket from the gift basket, a kind bakery owner giving them free food and inviting them in while calling the very concerned X-Men who are freaking out at there missing bby.

More ideas! I'm sorry for flooding your inbox!

A court battle ensuing about who gets to adopt this skraggly can't even write their own name bites people who get too close teen.

Meanwhile reader is attempting to escape Krakoa CPS wanting no adoption and to be free of these obsessed people who keep feeding them and giving them pain meds.

Welp imma go buh bye!

Reader: Please help me, I just need to find a road out of here-

The worried shop owner: Okay, okay, calm down, dear, eat your waffles and fries and let me go get you something to drink-

The worried shop owner, actually calling the X-Men: Hello? There's a worried child here who seems so scared and confused, and they're asking to leave- I know, the poor dear seems like they aren't doing so well, they might need a doctor- Yes, yes I'll try to get them to stay put, see ya in a few minutes-

The worried shop owner, back with Reader: So, what about you stay for a few minutes, tell us about yourself, where are you from, do you want to stay for about fifteen minutes-

Reader, now suspicious: Um... can I use your bathroom?

Shop owner: Yes, right that way, dear

Reader: Thank you

Reader: actually leaving through the back door

Reader: Why is everyone acting so weird??

The X-Men, showing up at the front: We are here about a strange child!

Reader from the back alley: D*mn it, they move fast!!!

Reader is going so fast into the shadows and simply booking it to the nearest coastal area, apologizing as they go and sneaky sneaking through the back allies and side streets and avoiding main roads and the majority of people and citizens and heroes and villains-

Only to realize someone is trying to track them, and Reader now has to lose the teen trailing them like a hunting dog or a needy kitten on steroids-

[eskawrites]

What are some of your favorite headcanons on ronance?

i was so excited when i saw this in my inbox, and then i immediately went 'this is so general oh no' lmao, but i'll do my best anon!

-idk why but the first thing that came to mind was sports nancy. specifically volleyball nancy, she has control issues and she would absolutely be a setter. robin would be a hitter or at the very least a very gay fan sitting in the bleachers

-i'm 1000% here for the 'we had to take a gap year after we saved the world because we're traumatized' storylines and tbh i think spending a year together in hawkins just kinda working and doing a lot of nothing would be so good for both of them. nancy spends more time at family video than all the kids combined

-she and robin go out driving once in a while just to get out of town. it's not really a date but also it feels more like a date than anything they ever do in hawkins together

-nancy sneaking into robin's window because 1) she hates being in her room at night after seeing what it looked like in the upside down and 2) she just loves a little good ol' fashioned b&e. she always climbs in with this devious look in her eyes and robin falls for her a little more every time

-it's not really a headcanon but i do think A Lot about the fact that nancy got her makarov from a dead soldier's body, and tbh that doesn't come up in fics nearly as much as i want it to. like that is a horrific fact in and of itself and she just grabs that pistol without even thinking about it, what a badass, what a traumatized lil bean (and imagine what robin would think, seeing that for the first time, knowing exactly where that gun came from, having been on the wrong end of it herself)

-robin is someone who bummed around town a lot as a kid, she was never inside in the summers, and so i think she'd know a lot of weird little nooks and crannies around town. she once made a fort near the junkyard with like old tires and scrap metal and stuff. she hasn't been there for years but she and nancy are out walking one day and she ends up taking here there. nancy thinks it's cute, and also may or may not get a little bit sad thinking about how she and barb and robin all would have been really good friends

-i can't remember if there's anything in the show about like a record store in hawkins or something but in my mind there is absolutely a hole-in-the-wall record store and robin absolutely knows the owner because she's put in special orders for language tapes or weird niche operas and stuff. and so when robin shows up one day in 1986 to buy more mainstream stuff she used to scoff at, the owner definitely goes hm, okay, who's she crushing on? the answer becomes obvious the first time she walks in with nancy

-nancy thinks she's a dog person through and through, and she's a little nervous when she moves in with robin who has a very old and very anxious cat. it takes roughly 3 days for the cat to decide that nancy is his favorite person in the world, though, and she becomes an official cat lady from that moment on

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary Chapter Eight

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

Samhain is here, and for the first time in a while, she has people to share it with.

word count: 5.2K

warnings | 18+ smut, angst, discussions of grief, spooky-ooky action

a/n | it's here! hands down this has been my favorite chapter to write so far. i would love to hear what you think as always, my inbox is open <3

..............................

Summer has been laid to rest under the whispered chill of fall. The mountains are burned up all orange and yellow, leaves fit to fall in the soon-to-come snap of frost. But for now, as October comes to an end, the days are still tinged with warmth while the nights shiver in the suggestion of the oncoming winter, and Halloween is just around the corner. 

Joel had thought it silly, if not downright stupid, when he and Ellie first came to Jackson, all the holidays upheld and celebrated in town. But this year, as the annual fall dance comes closer, he’s hard pressed to be bothered by it with his woman flitting around him, obvious in her excited anticipation.

“Oh, Joel, before you go I have something to give you.” 

“This– this is a rusty nail.” She just smiles, curling her fingers under his palm to close his hand over the, quite literally, rusty nail she just gave him.

“Just, humor me, alright? It’s a tradition, for protection. I gave one to Ellie too. Just keep it in your pocket for the next few days.” By now, he’s realized that sometimes it’s easier to just go along with what she tells him, no questions asked, so he nods, pocketing the nail with a smile that he hopes looks grateful. He can also tell that she’s nervous, and he’d bet that it’s because he’s started picking up patrol shifts again, leaving early this morning to meet Tommy at the gate. So if him having an old nail in his pocket is going to make her feel even a little better, he’s happy to oblige her request. 

“Thank you, darlin. I’ll see you tonight, ok?” One kiss, a second, and a third, before he finally tears himself away from her, slipping out the front door and into the cool morning air. 

“Morning, trouble.”

Mrrp

Stevie is quick to fall into stride alongside him, something he’s still getting used to on the mornings he has patrol, her watchful eyes seeing him out of the gate.

“I see you’ve still got a second shadow following you.” Tommy grins at him as he approaches, eyes glancing down to Stevie who lets out another meow, sitting down rather primly and looking between the two brothers. 

“She ain’t–”

“Coming, yeah, you say that everytime, Joel. I’m pretty sure I could figure out that a cat ain’t coming on patrol by myself though.”

Mrrrrp

Tommy gives the cat in question a disbelieving look, eyebrows raised as he looks back up at Joel who can’t help the smug grin tugging at his lips. Tommy lets out a huff, shaking his head.

“Y’all are so fucking weird. Let’s go before the cat starts talking, goddamn.”

…

For the first time in a while, things feel simple, maybe even good. She’s hesitant to let her mind settle on good for fear of jinxing it all, but at the very least, things are really, really not bad. And it certainly doesn’t hurt that Samhain is only a few days away. 

It’s the busiest time of year for her, in more ways than one. With the impending chill, more and more people around town are coming down with head colds and whatever else they might pick up in close quarters, a neverending rotation of sniffles and coughs that she’s been tending to while also trying to get ready for the sabbat. While she’s always kept the traditions alive for herself, this year is different, this year she gets to share it with people for the first time in ages, and she might be going just a bit overboard because of it. 

Truly, she’s been pulling out all the stops this week. Rosemary and wild rose wreaths for protection through the transition from light to dark, soul cakes for breakfast studded with dried fruit just like her mom would make, and a fresh batch of candles ready to light her altar through the three nights of the pagan new year. 

While Joel seems content to let her whirl around him in preparation, Ellie has enthusiastically taken part, listening intently to her explanations of all the rituals and traditions and helping out in the kitchen and in the shop when she can. She can’t help but be reminded of herself as a kid, her mom sharing with her all these things she now gets to share with Ellie.

“So, no bonfire?”

“Sorry, kid, not in this world. It’s just not safe anymore. But we can get the fireplace going and that’ll work just as well.” Though there’s still a slight disappointed slump to her shoulders, Ellie nods, her fingers continuing deft work on another wreath, perched on a stool at the butcher block in the back of the shop.

“You’re getting better at that than me, Ellie. Could I take that one to Maura? I was gonna check in on her this afternoon and I’d like to bring her something.” 

“Yeah, for sure. Is she, like, doing ok?” Her own hands still where she had been pruning back some errant leaves, turning to fully look at Ellie with a sigh.

“I think so, yeah. I know Matthew hasn’t given her any more trouble, probably too embarrassed to try. And I think she’s settling in well to her new place.”

“What about Mason?” She swallows the thick heat in her throat at Ellie’s question, schooling her face in something she hopes looks like indifference. 

“What about him?” 

“I don’t know. For a guy who seems to enjoy causing a lot of fucking problems it’s kinda weird how quiet he is all of a sudden.” She knows the truth that Ellie’s words hold all too well, and had been thinking about this herself for a while now. She hadn’t seen or heard from Mason since what happened at the town hall, and to her knowledge, no one else had either, keeping to himself and his shifts. And while she’d like to just forget about him, his bitter words and blatant violence toward her are hard to shake from her mind.

“Let’s just take a win where we can get one, huh, kid? I don’t– don’t even wanna think about that man so long as I don’t have to.” Ellie seems to accept her reply with a slightly distracted hum, holding up the wreath she just finished with a satisfied smirk.

“Fuck yeah. Am I good, or am I good? I mean, c’mon.” It might be silly, but she feels pride unfurling in her chest watching Ellie. No one else has ever been so interested in what she does, and it feels like a relief she didn’t know she was craving to get to share this all with her.

“Pretty damn good, kid. Thanks for helping me out.”

…

He gets back to town spooked, just a little. It isn’t like anything absolutely dire had happened, though it could have turned rotten real quick. He and Tommy had split off early in the day to circle the dam and meet back up somewhere in the middle. It had been a quiet morning, the woods wrapped in a faint mist, leaves falling like rain, when he heard a low, warbling groan from deeper in the trees. It was obvious to him that it wasn’t an infected, the sound had been so different from anything he’d heard before, and he couldn’t help but dismount and inch into the underbrush, trying to catch sight of what had made a noise like that. 

A grizzly, that’s what had made the sound, brown fur matted over a hulking body that rose all of eight feet in the air when it stood up on its haunches and snarled at Joel. He was stunned still where he stood by the sight, gun uselessly cocked against an animal that could have killed him in one powerful swipe. And for a moment, it had seemed like that’s exactly what was about to happen, the bear letting out a rumbling roar, jowls warbling with the sound. But then, and it’s going to sound strange, the animal had paused, and had tilted its head at Joel like it was considering him, before slumping back down onto all fours, letting out a snuff that sounded like a conclusion, and trundling right past him further into the thickening forest. 

The whole ride back to town, he can’t help but thumb the corroded nail sitting in his jacket pocket, a jilted energy running circuits in his veins. But the hitch in his chest is smoothed out when he does get home, opening the front door to warmth and the smell of food, something savory mingling with the scent of apples cooking. And the sight of her, comfortably moving around the kitchen, something in the oven and a large pot bubbling on the stove, has his heart kicking up in an entirely different way. 

“I can feel you staring, Miller.” She glances at him over her shoulder, a crooked smile as she gives the pot a few stirs before turning and padding over to him where he’s leaning against the doorframe, her palm sliding from his chest to curl behind his neck as she leans in for a kiss. He reckons that this won’t ever get old for him, the apparent ease they move with together, how he can reach out and she’ll reach right back. She gives him a quirked look when she pulls away, brows furrowed.

“You alright?” She can clock him like no other. Sometimes it seems like she knows what he’s feeling before he even does, and if she hadn’t insisted that she most definitely can’t read minds, he would have guessed that she could.

“Mmhmm, just tired. Glad to be home.” Though her brows stay just slightly pinched, she seems to accept his excuse, a quick rub of her palm over her chest before she pulls away to check on whatever she has cooking. 

“Is Ellie around?” 

“At movie night with Dina. They’re playing Hocus Pocus from what I heard.” 

“Got enough of that at home, don’t we?” She scoffs, elbowing him lightly where he’s sidled up behind her. 

“Rude, and to think I was making you dinner.” She cranes her neck to look at him over her shoulder, hands finding his on her waist and tangling their fingers together as she scrunches her nose at him. He opens his mouth to say something smart back to her, but his eyes catch on the spoon stirring itself in the pot, drawing her attention back to the stove as well.

“Oops, got a little distracted.” Yeah, he still hasn’t gotten used to her getting distracted.

Dinner is warm and rich and near coma-inducing, both of them sitting back with contented sighs at the dining table, the sun long set, windows going purple and hazy in the glow of the kitchen lights. 

“Was Ellie supposed to be home for dinner?” Her brow furrows at his question, head tilted in confusion.

“No, I told you she’s at movie night. Why do you ask?” 

“You set an extra place, I just assumed–”

“Oh, no, that’s not– it’s another tradition. You set a place for the people you love who have passed on. Most folks just do it for the three days starting on Halloween. But we always started leaving a plate out a day early, don’t ask me why, it was just the way my mom did it.” It’s clear to him that she’s being careful about what she says, and how she says it. She’s been careful about explaining the holiday, and he can understand why. She had told him that this time of year is marked most by communion with and remembrance of the dead, a subject they’ve been skirting around ever since that night when she tried to talk to him about Sarah, and he bolted like a spooked horse. 

“Is that who you set the place for now? Your mom?” Her smile tempers, eyes rounding with a familiar sadness as she nods.

“Yeah, other family too. And I have to admit, I know it’s not my place, but I’ve been thinking about– about Sarah as well.” It’s a leap for her to make, he knows it, and he’s willing to make it with her, reaching his hand across the table to rest over the top of hers, puzzle pieces fitting together in a shared silence. 

“Thank you for thinking of her, darlin.” Another nod and a small smile. 

“Could I– can I share something with you? And maybe you could help me with it?” 

…

“So that’s what all this is for?” 

“What’d you think it was for?” 

“Honestly, I stopped asking questions about things like this a while ago. Just assumed whatever this was, you had some sort of plan for it.” She has to let out a huff of a laugh at his clearly truthful answer, shaking her head before focusing back on the items spread over the desktop of her bureau.

“Well, I do have a plan, and it’s called an altar. It’s a space made to honor the departed, and to keep them a little closer to us.” She’s already laid out candles, dried leaves, and small wreaths of herbs on the desk, now pulling open one of the bureau’s drawers to get out a worn, weathered photo, tenderly unfolding it. Holding it out so Joel can see, a small sound of recognition rumbles in his chest.

“Is that you?” His finger just hovers over the face of the girl in the photo.

“Mmhmm, and that’s my mom, and my grandmother. I must have been twelve, maybe thirteen, when this was taken.” When she glances at him, something like wonder is laced in his expression, lips parted in a slight smile as he continues to study the picture. Clearing her throat, and her mind, she tucks the photo in amongst the altar before looking at him again.

“It’s nice to include pieces of them, if you have any. I was wondering, um– I mean I don’t know if you’d even want to– but if you have anything of Sarah’s, I was wondering if you’d like to add a piece of her to it?” The words feel thick and clunky coming out, regret an almost instant aftertaste at the way his face falls. But then he surprises her, clearing his throat and nodding before silently unfastening his watch and placing it on the altar, a tap of his fingers to the face of it before he takes a step back. 

“And it’s just for the next three days, right?” Worry is pinching his brow, eyes swimming, and she doesn’t resist the urge to reach for him, a hand on his cheek and one right over his heart.

“That’s right. It just lets them know that we’re thinking about them a little more than usual, that’s all. And then we go back to carrying them with us however we can.” He gives her a short nod, tears like silver in his eyes as he rests his hand over hers on his chest, his other palm coming to cup her cheek.

“She would’ve liked you, y’know.” It’s so unexpected, her breath catches in her throat at his words. 

“You think so?” 

“I think you two would’ve got on like a house on fire. Probably would’ve ganged up on me too, though you and Ellie already do that I suppose.” The warbly sound of her own laugh makes her realize that she’s started crying too, the soft sweep of his thumb brushing away a few stray tears.

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but my mom would’ve hated you.” The spluttering laugh he lets out sends her into a huffed spiral of her own, quiet grins between the two of them.

“Would’ve hated me, huh?”

“Mmhmm, nothing personal though. She just believed that women should never get tied down to a man for long.” He hums at that, both of them holding back another laugh through their tears.

“And what do you believe, darlin?” 

“I believe that you are the one exception to that rule, Joel Miller.” 

…

Seeing as the last town dance he went to ended with him busting his knuckles open on a man’s face, Joel isn’t exactly raring to go to this one. But hers and Ellie’s shared excitement is more than making up for his own disinterest. 

“Look, old man, Stevie and I match.” Ellie jumps off the last two steps of the porch, Stevie letting out a distressed mewl from her place in her arms at the sudden movement. 

“Yeah, the resemblance is uncanny.” Ellie’s got on black jeans, a black sweater, and a black headband with two triangular scraps of fabric attached to look like cat ears, cradling Stevie in her arms as the finishing touch to her makeshift costume. 

“What’re you supposed to be? A lumberjack with anger issues?” He huffs at her rather sharp question, glancing down at his flannel, the same flannel he wears at least twice a week these days.

“Sure, let’s go with that, kid.” 

“You two ready?” Her voice pulls his attention away from Ellie’s smug grin, and when he catches sight of her, his mind goes so hazy he can’t be bothered to pick his jaw up off the ground.

“That hat is fucking wicked.” He doesn’t even have half a mind to scold Ellie for her language, too busy taking in the sight of his woman. She’s wearing the same mismatched sneakers she’s always got on, her bare shins peeking out beneath the hem of her black dress. A very nicely-fitting black dress at that, long-sleeved, with a deep neckline he can’t seem to take his eyes away from. It’s too good, the hat sitting atop her head, the pointed top and the wide brim an almost cartoonish calling-card, and the grin on her face as she stands before him tells him that she knows it too. 

“Well?” She holds out her arms, a little flare in her wrists as she looks at him, and all he can do is let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“Where the hell did you get a hat like that?” She pinches the brim between her fingers, giving him a wink.

“Found it in the attic of my old house when I first moved in. Been saving it for a special occasion. You like?” He pulls her in for a kiss, all crooked from their mirrored grins.

“Ugh, c’mon, Stevie. Let’s go before they inflict any more damage to our eyeballs.” She pulls away with a laugh at Ellie’s very vocal dismay, taking Joel’s hand in hers with a light squeeze. 

“Sorry, kid. No more eyeball damage, I promise. Let’s get a move on.” 

Once again, the dining hall has been fitted out for the dance, tables pushed aside to clear the floor and a ragtag band putting out half-decent music. But this time is different too. This time, he’s got an easy arm wrapped around his woman’s waist, holding onto her in a crowd that no longer stares and whispers, but welcomes with easy smiles and talk. Everyone is in some sort of attempted costume, and he catches sight of Tommy making his way toward them through the crowd, an old cowboy hat on his head and a bandana tied around his neck.

“What’re you supposed to be, brother? A slightly less pissed off version of yourself?” While he grunts at his brother’s teasing, she laughs easily, happy to pick up the social slack where Joel refuses to engage.

“Happy Halloween, Tommy. I saw Maria and your boy out front. I can’t believe how big he’s gotten, gonna be quite the little heartbreaker in a few years.” The clear pride in Tommy’s smile sets warmth spreading in Joel’s chest. It’s been a surprising bright spot for him, watching his brother step into fatherhood. Not that he’d ever tell Tommy, but it’s a good look on him.

“He’s something else, ain’t he? Not gonna be able to keep up with him at the rate he’s growing. But anyways, just wanted to come say howdy. Y’all enjoy yourselves, alright?” With a brisk clap to Joel’s shoulder, Tommy is moving back through the crowd, lobbing easy greetings to folks left and right. 

“Alright, my angry lumberjack, are you gonna ask me to dance or what?” 

“You heard that, huh? Don’t even know how the kid knows what a lumberjack is.” Her smile is easy, humor crinkling her eyes as she looks at him.

“Mmhmm, but for the record, you make a very cute, angry lumberjack.” What he does next surprises even him, taking her hand and leading her into the throng of swaying couples on the dance floor with a confidence he hasn’t felt in decades. The band is playing a slower song, light threadings of a guitar and the old piano, a sweet suggestion to pull her close, one arm hooked around her waist, his other tucked between their chests where their hands are tangled together. Judging by the widening of her eyes, lips parted in a crooked smile, she hadn’t been expecting that at all.

“You’ve been holding out on me if you’ve been able to dance this nicely this whole time, Miller.” He can feel himself going a bit sheepish under her praise, eyes turned down as he leads them in a simple string of steps. 

“Haven’t danced in a long time, darlin.” They fall into an easy silence, the music and din of the hall lulling them into the movement. Though everything comes crashing to a jilted stop, music fizzling out under the sudden scuffle in the crowd. It’s instinct, the way his arm tightens around her, keeping her close as he cranes his neck to see where the raised voices are coming from, his stomach dropping when he lays eyes on who it is.

He can’t hear what’s being said, but judging by the steely look on Tommy’s face and the hazy sneer on Mason’s, it’s nothing friendly. And through the crowd, Mason’s bloodshot eyes land on him first, before sliding over to her, a grin smearing across his face that Joel would like nothing more than to smack clean off him. But Tommy is quick to take Mason out of the hall with a harsh grip on his shoulder, gone as soon as he appeared, though the damage has already been done judging by the slack frown on her face.

“Joel, can we go, please?” His chest tightens at the way her voice has flattened, the quiet question slipped from her downturned mouth, eyes stuck where Mason had been standing. 

“Yeah, darlin, we’ll go home. Lemme find Ellie and let her know, alright?” 

He keeps her hand in his the whole walk home, not letting go until they’re in their bedroom and she’s sitting down on the edge of the bed, a deep furrow between her brows.

“God, I feel so stupid for letting that affect me like I did. I’m sorry, Joel. We were having a good time and I– I ruined it.” He sits down as close to her as he can, tucking her under his arm and dropping a kiss to the top of her head, her hat discarded on the floor.

“Didn’t ruin a thing, darlin. I’m just sorry that pathetic bastard came around at all.” He can tell that she’s working through it in her mind, somewhere between the past and the present, lips slightly pursed and eyes focused on her hands in her lap, but she doesn’t get stuck on it, a long exhale bringing her back to him, tilting her head to look at him with a suggestion of a smile. She doesn’t say anything, slipping out of his hold like liquid and padding quietly over to her bureau where the altar is set up. It’s grace embodied, the way she leans over one of the unlit candles, pursing her lips and exhaling like you would to extinguish a flame, though instead the wick smokes and crackles into a bright blaze. 

“Well now you’re just showing off.” A shrug and a laugh from her as she lights the other candles with the one she just lit, the altar being cast in a warm and pulsing glow. 

…

Maybe she had been showing off, just a little, drinking in the way his eyes widen and don’t pull away from her for even a second as she turns back to him and extends her hand.

“Would you mind finishing that dance with me?” The light in the bedroom is dim, just a lamp and the candles casting a haze of warmth across the room, but she can still see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he stands up and slides his hand into hers.

There’s no music, but they don’t need it, finding an easy sway in their close tangle. She rests her cheek at his shoulder, nose brushing along the juncture of his neck, breathing him in, feeling his hands splayed across her back, the insistent pump of his heart, stronger than anything she’s ever heard before. 

“Think you mentioned something a while ago about dancing naked.” She can hear the smug crook of his smile in his words, making her laugh as she pulls back to look at him.

“Hmm, yeah, I just said that to seduce you.” He chuckles at the smarmy waggle of her eyebrows, pulling her tighter against him.

“Didn’t have to do that, darlin. Reckon I was gone for you from day one.” The kiss they slip into is more like a shared sigh, swallowing each other’s relief, muscles slackening under wandering hands. They move with patience, like time has stopped with the slow trails of fingers, the languid press of lips. A shiver runs through her when he tugs the zipper of her dress down, sliding the fabric down her arms, letting it pool around her still socked feet. She wants skin against skin, stepping closer to him as she slips her fingers through the buttons of his shirt, tugging it off his shoulders as soon as she can, leaving his torso warm and bare for her to press against, mouths open and receiving whatever the other is willing to give.

And all of a sudden that tender patience snaps into a snarling desperation, Joel’s hands a searing grip on her hips, keeping her close as he ducks his head down to mouth at the tops of her breasts, only giving her enough space to slip out of her bra before he’s dipping back down and taking one of her nipples into the heat of his mouth, teeth a dizzying graze. They’ve had slow and sweet, and this isn’t that, her back pressing up against one of the bedroom walls as he cages her in, warm and trembling breaths fanning over her skin as she tugs open his belt and rucks his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his flushed cock, resting heavy and heated against her thigh. 

When they first came together, it had been all questions, all Can I? Like this? Is that good? Are you? But they no longer need words now, communicating in the hungry sweep of palms and the flicker of darkened eyes. He hitches her knee against his hip, opening her up to him, his cock an aching drag through her cunt before he presses into her, pleasure tinged with the throbbing stretch of him. 

Her back slides up the wall with each thrust of his hips, his hand cradling the back of her head to keep her from thumping her skull. It’s all harsh breaths and broken grunts, her eyes scrunching shut only for Joel to coax her gaze back with a gentle let me see you, darlin– look at me, baby, eyes on me, that’s it. He presses his forehead to hers, holding her steady through every hard press of his hips, his cock grazing so deep it’s all she can do to let out a quiet whimper of his name. 

“I know, darlin– fuck, I know– always so good, huh? Lemme have it, honey, just like this.” He knows her almost too well by now, when to pull back, to slow down, to draw it out, and when to give her more, to press her over the edge, to twist up her pleasure only to unravel it. His hips still against hers when she comes, a deep grind inside of her that draws out her high, spasming around him as she digs her nails into his shoulders. Slackening in his arms, her mind cuts through the haze, confusion settling in when she realizes he still hasn’t moved, his forehead pressed to her sternum.

“Are you– did you–”

“Fuck, darlin, I-I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking and I– Jesus christ.” He pulls out with a shuddering breath, and that’s when she notices it, the warm trickle of him making her knees go weak. Joel, meanwhile, seems to be in perfect remorse, muttering a string of apologies, his hands hovering at her waist like he’s afraid to touch her. Finally, she cuts off his rambling, her palm cupping his jaw to get him to focus on her.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You seriously think I don’t know how to take care of something like this? Honestly, I’m a little offended.” His face goes completely slack at her words, a disbelieving laugh coming out on a long exhale. 

“I– you– goddamn. God fucking damn, think I almost had a heart attack.” His words come out on another laugh, hands framing her face as he lands a hard kiss to her forehead, making her chuckle at his reaction. 

“No heart attacks on my watch, Miller. I love you too much to let that happen.” This kiss lands a bit lower, a smacking press of his lips to hers before he pulls away with a sheepish smile.

“Love you, darlin. Let’s, uh, let’s get you cleaned up.”

…

It’s much later in the night when she untangles herself from his embrace, successfully slipping out of bed without waking him. Grabbing the blanket Joel had kicked off in his sleep and wrapping herself up in it, she quietly pads downstairs and out onto the back porch. 

“Hey, little miss, did you and Ellie have fun?” Stevie is happy to jump into her lap where she has sat down on the porch steps, a content purr thrumming as she nuzzles against her palm. A moment, that’s all she wanted, to think about the people she’s lost in the cool closeness of the night. But she and Stevie aren’t alone, not anymore. Something like family, something a little magic.

...............................

taglist: @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @gab-thelamb-onthemoon @thereaperisabitch @lunxramour @jupiter-sky @parrotpeggy @abbiesxox @nerdreader @ssa-raye @vermillionwinter @jksprincess10 @jordycat-2018 @lavenderkee @hungryforbatboys @casa-boiardi

[celestie0]

First time asker but long time reader 😭 I’m sorry that you got that shitty ask. It’s such a weird fucking thing to ask someone “hey when are you making these two fuck?” like… does that not feel weird to type out?

The gojo x reader tag has at least 5 explicit smut fics minimum daily, go read through those if you genuinely need sex in everything you read (it’s time to reflect on the porn addiction you have).

Regardless, I’ve been reading your fics on Ao3 and I absolutely LOVE the banter between gojo and reader 😭 it flows so fucking well I can feel the chemistry radiating from my screen. When I first started reading IHM, I was also an ancient hag like reader (29) so I found myself able to really relate to her. Usually when I envision Y/N, it’s a random person in their place but with this fic specifically idk why I lowkey insert myself? Everything she does, I would probably do the same and it makes me nervous (in a good way) that I’m gonna get attached to gojo and y/n’s relationship 😭

I absolutely love how gojo provides the security Y/N so desperately needs in the span of the fic. She has been suffocating on her own for so long that he just provides some fresh air. Dare I say meant to be?

The domesticity is everything and I like how we’re learning more about him alongside Y/N. So far we’ve seen just how supportive gojo has been and I’m excited to see how y/n comes through for him because my spidey senses (and your amazing writing) shows me that he has some baggage and it might resurface soon.

The build up to them realizing they love each other is making me giggle and kick my feet. I will happily eat whatever you feed us, thank you for sharing your writing with us. You absolutely have a talent for writing and fleshing out characters/relationships.

I appreciate you and will do my best to support you vocally from here on out 🥹 have a great week pls!

hi my love!! first of all thank you SO much for this supportive message, i srs teared up when i read it 😭 idk if that’s embarrassing to admit lololdjfsdfh but yea omg yesterday was rough so i can’t tell u how much it means to me

i agree on the porn addict thing omg like i love smut as much as the next person, but likeee to go into an author inbox after they just posted a 14k chap of their fic n say “are we gonna get smut soon?” like 💀 that’s sortaaaaa. i’m getting porn addiction vibes

aaaaaaaa i’m so happy you’re enjoying the banter in ihm :’’) and that you’re able to see yourself in reader’s shoes!! that’s such a wonderful thing n one of the aims of my writing ♥️ ♥️ also pls 29 is not ancient hag oml i mean there will be lots of rhetoric in ihm where reader thinks she’s old but like ultimately i want the message of the series to be that it’s never too late to start over and find happiness & joy :) i think that really applies to everything and everyone. and ahhh yes there will be some pretty angst stuffs BUT there will be happy ending <33

yes ihm gojo def got some baggage 😂😂 i need my men like that LOL. but thank you so much for being excited to see how reader comes through for him as well!! i know she’s going through a lot on her own, and that can sometimes cause her to neglect the things outside of her…but i think she has capacity to really be there for him too

oh my dear i really am so lucky to have you as a long time reader and i’m so grateful to hear your thoughts, but also please send them whenever you want to and without pressure <33 i will eat it tf up if/when you do but yea xD never feel burdened to! you have a wonderful week as well omg imma eat u fr

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here friend and you must be psychic because I was literally going to send you an angry, "you know I really haven't stressed enough how shitty Tommy was last episode" ask when you gloriously let loose with the salt. You're right about the slow burn analysis, vaguely suggesting without committing isn't cutting it, but this is more about Buck and his LI's. Because like I said watching the hamster wheel in action is NOT fun, but especially when what we see on screen is never addressed and his break-up's happen for some unrelated reason. And I could go and rehash the entirety of BT 1.0 and all the ways Taylor was awful, from her introduction in season 2 to her constant digs at Buck, but we've already tread that ground to death. The crumb or two of credit I'll give though (and only because its not happening now) is that at least when she was being condescending those moments happened when she was annoyed/angry.

This relationship is just so much worse from what we've seen. Your comparison to RNM was sooooo very on point, because much like that dumpster fire of LI, Tommy seems just annoyed with Buck's presence, no prompting necessary. The condescending attitude is so, so constant it feels like Buck's being scolded like a naughty school boy in most of their scenes. And what drives me nuts about the whole thing is that the writing never makes it clear that this is a bad thing, and even suggests otherwise!!! The first date that went all wrong?? I still see comments about how Buck "messed it up". Like how in this world where we got an RWRB Emmy nomination, a movie one of whose central points was that queer people should have full agency over the when's and how's of their coming out, does the writing of this show dare to suggest Buck being nervous and reluctant to reveal this part of himself he just discovered is wrong?? That he deserved to be left on the curb?? From the very start of BT 2.0 they establish weird, off-putting dynamic of Buck needing to "learn" to be a boyfriend to a man. And this is most of there scenes together!! From there its the awards ceremony and "enjoy it while it lasts", the dinner of "at least your dad's alive", to this episode where Tommy is huffing and puffing his disbelief and annoyance until he turns out the lights like an exhausted parent. And none of it is ever addressed in the show!! Yeah, I get there's the subtext but when you go through all the trouble of showing this couple to be incompatible and then bring in an entirely different reason for a break-up without Buck addressing all the things that made them incompatible to begin with its so unsatisfying and painful to watch. Anyway, sorry to dump all this in you inbox but your post set me off and I had to add salt to the fire 🤣🤣🤣🤣!!!!

It has been a hot minute since we got to be really salty together so this has been nice! Gotta get it all outta my system so I can focus on the things I enjoy!

"watching the hamster wheel in action is NOT fun, but especially when what we see on screen is never addressed and his break-up's happen for some unrelated reason." This is sooooo frustrating to me! Like, why waste the screentime showing these people being bad partners for Buck, or Buck being unhappy because they were just not compatible, only to never talk about it! Never allow him or the other characters talk about it! It feels so gaslight-y where we are seeing one thing playing out on screen with our own eyes and ears, only to have the characters act like it's not happening, and the actors/showrunners pretending it's not happening either! Like, I get you can't spoil stuff in interviews and the storylines need time to play out but don't LIE about how a character we are watching being treated badly is not actually being treated badly and it's fine actually that his partners always condescend to him despite the red flag that is, specifically because we know the main character's past and traumas and neglectful childhood. 🙄

"The condescending attitude is so, so constant it feels like Buck's being scolded like a naughty school boy in most of their scenes. And what drives me nuts about the whole thing is that the writing never makes it clear that this is a bad thing, and even suggests otherwise!!!" One of the things about RNM that really got my goat is how m*ria would pull some of THEE most outta pocket shit and say the worst things and then it was never ever addressed and actually all the characters had to pretend she was perfect and wonderful and never made any mistakes, ever. It's also the reason the whole BT 1.0 relationship was so unbearable to watch. Buck is wasting away in that loft looking fucking miserable every episode and yet the second he expresses doubt, the firefam is all on him for never putting in the work in his relationships and not ONCE is anyone allowed to bring up her past, or how she's treating him. And now it's the same thing all over again with fans, journalists, and the actors/showrunners brushing off this behavior or worse, acting like it's "cute" and that T would actually be perfect for Buck if unfortunately Eddie wasn't just a little bit better with more history. Removing Eddie from the equation doesn't make T any better of a fit for Buck and it's such whiplash to see what is presented to the audience on screen and then hear things like that.

"but when you go through all the trouble of showing this couple to be incompatible and then bring in an entirely different reason for a break-up without Buck addressing all the things that made them incompatible to begin with its so unsatisfying and painful to watch." 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻Why is it even happening if it's not part of the reason for the breakup? It might be, but I doubt it since they are now inventing some past history for T for Buck to spiral over instead of not wasting the time and just...using the backstory they already have! Which is the point of bringing back an established character! So why are they wasting screentime showing all the ways these relationships don't fit only to never address it? And like, this is the Soulmates show! We KNOW they know how to do satisfying love stories! So why are we AGAIN having to drag out and suffer through yet ANOTHER relationship for Buck that only serves to make him look bad for dating someone who has harmed his family and feels off that the firefam is never allowed to be involved in a meaningful way because then the show likely couldn't avoid addressing the thing they have for some reason chosen to ignore? Just set all of us (and Oliver and Ryan) free we are BEGGING.

Thanks for coming to be salty with me!

[beybaldes]

and I long to be near you

summer sleepover masterlist

will kitman x gn!reader

summary : “you fell asleep in my arms. it was kind of adorable.” Requested by anon.

an : omg I finally wrote another prompt fic, more coming, one ted, a few Roy, and I think a Jamie in the drafts too? Then I’ll return to the inbox and work on some more. Love you guys!! Title is death with dignity by sufjan stevens <3

You hadn’t planned for things to end up like this. What was supposed to be a night out with the team after another win for Richmond, had somehow become you waking up in someone’s arms on the coach, half way back to London.

As you tried to blink away the sleep in your eyes, you took note of how you were sat. Someone’s hoodie had been put over your ‘going out’ clothes and you were facing Isaac and Colin, who sat together in the row across from you - meaning whoever you were sat with, or on, had had the decency to keep the sun out of your eyes and allow you to sleep. You snuggled into the soft material of the hoodie, tucking your nose under the collar and immediately recognising the smell.

Somehow, you’d ended up in Will’s arms, your side pressed into his chest, one of his arms around your waist and holding you in the seat by your thigh, the other holding your knee with his thumb running up and down. Thankfully, your face was largely hidden from view as it was tucked into the crook of Will’s neck, and what wasn’t, you’d hidden when you’d snuggled up into his jumper.

Though you’d managed to piece together where you’d ended up, you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what had led to it.

Colin griping your ankle and shaking it had given you the perfect opportunity to fake waking up, and avoiding dealing with an explanation of the fact you’d been awake a while and just enjoyed the feeling of being in Will’s arms.

“Look what you’ve done now, bruv.” Isaac knocked his shoulder against Colin’s, turning Colin’s attention away from you and Will as he started to bicker with his best friend.

“Good morning.” Will whispered, giving you the opportunity to slowly ‘wake up’ after Colin startling you awake. “You sleep good?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You answered honestly, keeping yourself tucked in Will’s arms but moving your head to look at him. “But confused about how exactly I ended up here though.”

“Oh. Oh! Sorry.” Will quickly tried to move you out of his arms and into the aisle seat, but in doing so nearly made you fall onto the floor of the bus. In response, you reached one arm up so it was over his shoulder, and squeezed yourself tighter against his chest, to stop yourself from falling. “I’m sorry, I was-“

“Don’t worry about it, Will.” A loud yawn spilt up your words and you snuggled into Will’s chest with your thinking. Will was half thankful you had, because at least it meant you couldn’t see the red, hot flush that covered his face and burned the tips of his ears, even if that meant he was the most nervous he’d ever been. “Just tell me what happened after that hot sauce shot Isaac gave me, I can’t remember anything after that .”

Will re-adjusted his grip on you, one of his thighs brushing dangerously close to the top of your thighs, sending shivers running through you. “Right, so.” Will’s fingers started to gently scratch up and down your thigh as he spoke. “We were at the club, and Colin had been saying for nearly an hour that we better get heading back, and you and Jan really didn’t want to.” Will pointed to a passed out Jan Mass taking up the whole row behind Isaac and Colin, a jacket thrown over his head to keep the sun out of his eyes as he slept. “And when me and Isaac backed Colin, you and Jan Mass grabbed each others hands and ran off into the crowd together.”

You gasped at his words, then sounding nothing like anything you’d do. That weird hot sauce shot must have sent you over the edge and into insanity, by the sounds of it. “It took us 2 hours to find you in the crowd, and when we did, you and Jan had worked your way through 16 more shots between the two of you.” Yep, definitely didn’t sound like you. “When we finally convinced the two of you to get in a taxi, we’d lost Richard, and we had to spend another 45 minutes looking for him.”

“The club wasn’t even that big, Will.”

A laugh rumbled through his chest and you could feel the vibration of it in your own. Both of his hands had moved further up your body; the one from your knee moving to replace the other at your thigh, and the one from your thigh moving to your hair. “I know, right! I’m convinced you and Jan were following us around for the first hour and a half we were looking for you just to make sure we wouldn’t find you.” He brushed some of your hair away from falling over your cheek, keeping his hand on the strand behind your ear. “Anyway, after we found Richard, we finally went to get into a taxi and come back to the hotel. But when we got the taxi, we realised there was 4 seats and six of us.”

As Will recounted the nights events, little glimpses of it started to seep into your mind. You could picture the streets of Nottingham moving quickly before your eyes, Isaac and Jan blocking your view and Colin curled up in front of Isaac’s feet, his head resting on his knee.

“Richard demanded the front seat and the rest of us had to squeeze into the back. We made it work, but you had to sit in my lap.” You and Will were the shortest of the group, so It made the most sense for the two of you to coup up in one seat together. Especially when Jan Mass was in the car too. “And by the time we finally made it back to the hotel, it was time to get on the coach. But when I tried to get out of the taxi, I realised you’d fallen asleep.”

You could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks at the image of the two of you in the taxi, much like the scene before you now. In both instances, Will hadn’t hesitated to put your comfort above his own and let you sleep, and sit, on him. If you didn’t already have a blossoming crush on Will, his genuine and consistent sweetness would’ve had you forming one, right here, right now.

“So you carried me onto the bus?” You guessed, your hand that had rested against his shoulder moving up to cup the nape of his neck, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I carried you onto the bus.” He confirmed, the nod of his head gentle enough that it wouldn’t disturb you. “You woke up for a minute when Colin yelled at me from the bus door about where he should put our luggage. And then you fell right back asleep in my arms. It was kind of adorable.”

“You’re kind of adorable.” You whispered against Will’s chest, missing the way his checks flushed once more at the words you didn’t think he’d manage to hear. “Colin loaded our bags?”

Will, sensing the worry in your voice, immediately went to reassure you, his fingers scratching gently against your scalp. “Yeah, but don’t worry. I made him FaceTime me while he did it to make sure he did it right.”

“Good.” You laughed, tucking your head deeper into the crook of Will’s neck, the feeling of your smile pressed into his skin setting off butterflies in his stomach. “I don’t fancy Amy clothes being scattered across the M1.”

[webslingingslasher]

21 AND 30!!!!!!

based off this prompt list

sorry for the late post, i forgot i had these in my inbox! I really liked this one!

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” 

You screamed the words with ferocity, frustration was dripping from each word. 

Peter was your best friend, you supported him in everything he did, everything. Even going into fucking space, or finally asking MJ out, or just being there to hold him halfway through freshman year in college after they decided the distance wouldn’t work. 

You loved Peter with everything in you and you loved everything he did. He had a way of lighting up every room he walked into, he knew how to break the tension each time and always spared someone at the expense of his own awkwardness. 

No matter what he did he had you in his corner. 

Why didn’t you have him there too?

It all started with Zach, some friend of a friend who took an interest in you. Nothing serious at first but then Peter noticed this guy was waiting around for you, and suddenly you had canceled one or two different plans for this guy, and next thing he knows all he can look at is the hickey he’s clocked in on your neck, right above your collarbone. 

Peter’s been kind of a bitch since then. 

Just snappy with responses, like when you apologize for canceling, again, he hits you with a ‘no surprise there, make sure you use protection or whatever.’ Or just rolls his eyes and changes subjects when you bring Zach up, which was upsetting because you listened for two years about him and MJ. 

“And, Zach surprised me with a tea and sugar cookie after lab! I texted him before I went in that I was nervous and when I left he was waiting there with it and walked me to the bus stop. It was so cute, I even kissed his cheek and he got all blushy. Isn’t that just adorable?” The awe was thick in your voice, little clouds and stars ran around your forehead, how could you get so lucky?

“Yeah. Just super adorable. Anyways, did Jesse fuck up in lab today?” Peter brushed it off choosing to talk about your lab partner, he’s in the wrong major, you both think it. He’s always messing up in the most comedic ways. 

You furrow your brows, he always does this. 

“Uh, not really. But, Zach was telling me about how his roommate was asking about me, which is a good thing right? Cause that means he’s actually talking about me, and-” 

“Ned was talking about how he and Betty are looking for an apartment together, I think he’s gonna propose before we graduate.” 

“Do you not like Zach?” It’s getting tiring, you want to talk about this with your best friend.

“Why do you care if I like Zach?” 

“Because, Peter! I want my best friend to like my boyfriend!” 

Pause. Peter blinks one, two, three times. 

“He’s your boyfriend?” It’s like he’s tasting the words in his mouth. 

“Well, not yet I mean. But I think he might be, or he’s trying to be.” You shrug like it’s nothing but it’s something. He’s nice and lovely and down right cute. 

“Then no.” Peter blinks at you again.

“No?” 

“No. I don’t like him, I don’t care for him and I don’t want to meet him.” Peter is being extremely blunt. 

“Okay…” You trail and look around, you don’t think there had ever been tension in a room with him like this and it was nearly suffocating. 

“Can I ask why?” You give a false laugh, trying to ease what he put in the room. 

“I don’t know. He’s always around you, and makes these weird jokes that only you understand. And you’re always dumping me to run after him, he sucks.” Peter reaches behind you to pull a string of hair off the side of your sweater.

You laugh dryly. 

“He’s nice. And he cares about me, and I actually think you would both get along really nicely. He reminds me a lot of you, you both have this weird dorky thing but it’s innocent. He’s patient and he’s funny.” 

“Yeah. Okay.” He hums and smiles. 

It’s condescending. 

“Why can’t you just be happy for me?” 

Peter’s eyes go wide, he opens his mouth and closes it trying to find the words then sighs. 

“I don’t know if I can bring myself to say it.” 

“Try.” You huff. 

“I didn’t ever think like this before but once he started to hang around I felt weird, and you’re always around him now. You cancel our plans for him and you walk around campus with him, and you have your own jokes with him that should be with me! And when I saw that hickey he gave you I freaked out inside, I never thought about it until I saw you with him.” 

“Thought about what, Peter?” 

He chews on his cheek, his bottom lip pulled and twisted. 

“I’m sorry that you found out this way,” 

Peter pauses and lets out a breath and looks at you in the eyes. 

“But, I think I’m in love with you.” 

[writingquestionsanswered]

Anonymous asked: I'm writing a story where it makes sense for the protagonist to die at the end from some physical illness. However, I'm in doubt whether to create a fictional disease or research a lot About diseases that exist until I find one that meets my desires. What would be the pros and cons of creating a disease and/or doing a lot of research? Is a fictional disease ethical? Will creating a fictional disease make readers think I'm lazy?

(Ask edited for length... but thanks for the kind words, and your English is perfect!)

I'm not aware of any general ethical concerns with fictional diseases, and there are many, many stories that use them. However, they tend to be found pretty exclusively in speculative fiction, or in other words stories with speculative elements such as sci-fi, fantasy, urban fantasy, supernatural, alternate history, and experimental fiction. So, if that's the kind of story you're writing, it wouldn't be weird to create a fictional disease. However, you may still want to use a real disease or type of disease as a model, but you don't have to.

If you're writing set in "the real world"--contemporary fiction, historical fiction, literary fiction set in our world's past or present, or any story without speculative elements, it would be much trickier to get away with using a fictional disease. Readers of this type of fiction may be taken out of the story by a fictional disease, which is something to consider. Now, if you framed it as a disease that's so rare, no one has ever heard of it, it might be doable. But, I think it's something you have to do with intention--something that makes sense for the needs of your story, not because you want to avoid doing research or are nervous about portraying a real disease. I also probably wouldn't use a fictional disease in this case if it plays an ultimately small role in the story. Like, if the symptoms are there through the story, but the diagnosis and death don't come until the end, it would probably look weird to the reader for it to be a super rare disease no one has ever heard of. At that point, I think it would look lazy.

But, unless you're writing a story that's about someone's experience with a disease, you really don't have to go too deep into research. In the case of your story, for example, it would probably be enough to know the general symptoms, when they set in, and what typically leads to a diagnosis. You don't necessarily need to know everything there is to know about the disease or how it affects someone. If you come up against something specific you need to know as you're writing, you can research that specific thing.

I hope that helps!

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[aqua-dan]

I’m sorry for like constantly filling up your inbox with question but I’ve figured out what Roy and Garth’s little misunderstandings were so you don’t have to answer that ask.

I also would like to admit that I think that I’m kind of a Roy.

Bare with me…

I often trash on my friends at any given opportunity. Any opening for a snide remark, any mean comment I could possibly think of in two seconds. If it’s clever and witty then I’ll squeeze it in and for any other person what I’m doing is seen as mean and for a while… they also considered me as rude.

I never really realized that I was actually overstepping someone’s boundaries. This is more geared to one specific person and I felt like really bad about it… because… the whole reason I was being like that in the first place is because I like them and I want to be close to them…

Like I considered them different from everyone else - I felt like I related to them and I felt like they could understand me - like they could understand the worst parts of me and if they over time got conditioned to being around me even when I’m like that then they could be the type of person who I can show all my ugly to as well.

It’s like weird - I don’t know how to describe it. In my head I seriously think that what I’m doing is like extremely and so obviously affectionate and caring. It’s like me insulting them is actually the most hilarious thing in the world because me thinking low of them would be the biggest joke to end all jokes… because I don’t think low of them - I really like them and I thought that was obvious.

I guess it’s easier to show that in a special little game made for them then it is to do it in a normal way because if I do that I’ll be showing my ass because if I was affectionate in a normal way and they didn’t like me then it’d kind of crush me and if I do it this way and they still like me than perhaps it’s mutual.

God, to think when they communicated to me that they didn’t think we were close enough for that then I felt like a damn idiot because I felt closer to them than literally anyone else. :(

It’s very twisted but my POINT is that lowkey Roy probably really likes Garth if my situation at all resembles that.

Ah, classic preschool bs, if he’s mean to you for no reason than it means he likes you but it is very true.

I think that people don’t understand RoyGarth because they refuse to see the implications. It’s not a bad or confusing ship at all. It’s misunderstandings and if they truly hated each other’s guts its not like that will ever effectively take away from the quality of the ship.

What Roy does for Garth is almost inherently affectionate and almost romantic seen through the right lenses.

Sorry for the tangent. This isn’t me venting AT ALL by the way - I’m just trying to connect Roy’s behavior to something and I know myself better than anyone so!

Hey! No worries, anon! I actually LOVE getting asks, and I'm always super appreciative for every one I get! I'm sorry also that I'm so slow to answer them. I get so nervous answering things sometimes because I don't want to say the wrong thing. I've been known to go and re-read whole series just in case so I can give the best response I can. But that does mean that sometimes asks sit around for a bit... oops. This ain't about me though, so!

Thank you genuinely for sending this! I think it's a really interesting take on this whole thing from someone who has clearly analyzed their own actions/feelings, and gives us a perspective that we may not otherwise see.

I do think it's really intriguing, both in real life and in fiction, how differently two people can view something and how actions can be interpreted/misinterpreted.

Again, thank you for being willing to share this! (And as a side note, I still am planning on answering your other ask anyway, but maybe as a comprehensive look at Roy and Garth's interactions)

[sillygoofyqueer]

Ideas have been spinning around in my brain for awhile now and you can disregard all of this if you want but I have WAYYYY too many characters with excessively detailed backstories and your little character has been sparking ideas for me. So! I have lore ideas and here they are (these ideas may/may not overlap a little with my own stories but not enough that you can’t do what you want):

I was thinking your oc (the wispy one with the colors n stuff) came to be as a result of the remains of dead gods. Morbid, but it happened a little like a star forming from the dust of other stars. So over time all these remains out in the universe just started coming together and suddenly there’s a whole being! And obviously this being has no idea about anything. It kinda just… is. For a long while at that. It kinda just floats through space while sightseeing the galaxy.

It quickly learns it’s pretty much indestructible but at the same time getting caught in a star’s gravity hurts so not gonna do that again if it can avoid it. It also learns that it can do some pretty weird stuff (not that it knows it’s weird yet) like adjust certain things like light and energy. It can change shape at will too. It’s not all powerful and does need rest after some of these things but for a while it toys with things.

Eventually they fall to a planet. A planet with life. A planet with… other conscious beings apparently! (What we know is earth!) It’s curious but also nervous. So it watches. Mimics other life forms. Learns. It figures out how to read and write and talk both from osmosis and from seeing elders teach younger. This is not limited to humanity either. Anything from certain animals to insects and to an extent, plants!

Once they start feeling confident enough, they try blending in either human society. This… admittedly doesn’t go well. It is clear that they look too different to properly fit in and people tend to either stare or scream.

One thing leads to another and they accidentally get in trouble with what is essentially the supernatural police. After many, MANY long hours things get sorted out and they get brought to some higher tier gods to get informed about… well, everything. It is upon meeting the other gods that they realize, they don’t have a name. So they make one up on the spot. Four.

They end up trial and erroring a lot of things over time (under a lot of supervision) and find they have an inclination towards writing and reading. To discuss with other people and have fun. They also learn that they can suck the dye out of shit and annoy people with that fact. It is very fun and the dye tastes yummy so… (the ability is mostly because they’re made up of the remains of dead gods and that’s what large parts of the universe is made of. Thus, if they focus, they can adjust or even take in that energy for themself)

Once Four really starts understanding how society and stuff functions they try again to fit in with society. And it works! Sure, they have to give the excuse of “cosplay” when their disguise fails a little too hard but whatever. So sometimes they just go to the human realm to mess with people and hang out. For the most part tho, they hang around the heavenly realms and fantasy worlds and send out stories/fanfics using their phone no matter where they are.

(Have I written too much? Absolutely. I hope you enjoyed my oc brainrot tho. Because my brain has not shut up since I started drawing)

(Also amazing job on losing hope, I will be screaming abt it in ur inbox soon, it’s just I’ve felt a little like death warmed over lately)

Sorry, I didn't want this to leave my inbox because then I could look at it constantly and giggle and kick my feet every time I thought of it, like a selfish little monster teehee. I can't believe you like my little sona so much!!! This is all canon to my little character now, you created a whole backstory for them and it makes me sob every time I think about it, you're a sweet little MONSTER, GOD- I am sobbing. Violently. How are you feeling? Are you feeling a little better? Because that's so relatable that's how I'm feeling right now, teehee

[19calicos]

𖤐 about/byf ✮⋆˙

byf & dni

⟡ don’t be gross 🫵🏼 dni if you’re a bigot 🫵🏼 dni if zionist 🫵🏼 dni if acephobic 🫵🏼 dni if ur gonna be rude on anon 🫵🏼

⟡ any age can like/reblog posts. please don’t follow and/or interact with my inbox/replies if you’re younger than 15. i will probably interact less with followers younger than 17. i’m not comfortable talking to anyone under 15 and i’d really like to reply back to everyone that does interact. just behave yourself (especially if you’re an ageless blog) because i don’t want to go through the trouble of checking ages :[ i am placing trust in you internet strangers !!

⟡ please read this if you want to interact as an anon

⟡ this blog does not contain smut and dark content. the most nsfw things i will write about are substances probably (ie. weed, alcohol, cigs) but just keep an eye out for content warnings in masterlists and at the beginning of every chapter.

�� this blog is hq only. im not really as inspired by other shows when it comes to writing. i will also only write gn! reader with theythem pronouns.

⟡ i talk abt substance use (weed & alc) so if ur not comfortable with that i suggest not following. its not anything crazy i’ll just post when inebriated sometimes

⟡ also a side note … i’m shy i’m sorry if i seem like i’m ghosting around or being weird or something 😭 i lurked a lot in 2020/21 but i’m doing my best to break that habit and interact with people. please don’t be afraid to chat with me! seriously if you feel scared/nervous i promise you i feel the same LMFAOOOO but fr send an ask or reply to posts, it really means the world and i find it very fun to interact with everyone :-)

thank you for reading 🫶🏼 please feel free to interact w me!

get to know me!

hello !! i’m sol 🌟 they/them, istp, 19 !

this is a hq side blog for @sollipses but i don’t really use my main blog much, i usually stick with my side blogs (like this one)

i’ve been on a hq kick lately (thank you hq movie) and wanted to join the hq smau renaissance …. this is all so nostalgic for me bc i was on here a lot in 2020/21 and then fell off. im a uni student so once the semester starts up again, updates will be very sporadic!

my fav teams are nekoma + inarizaki, & some of my favorite characters are kenma + kuroo + osamu!⚡️

[kenobster]

📝🗣️

please i just love u talking abt ur fics

From this ask game.

Ahhhh thanks so much, anon!!! I'm super flattered. :D

I'm still sloooowly working my way through the asks I have in my inbox, but this one luckily had great timing so I'm doing this one before the others. (Though maybe this isn't what you wanted, anon... in which case, my deepest condolences. XD)

🗣️ Talk about your favorite WIP

We are using this question as an excuse to talk about the Vader Mpreg AU, which is, in fact, my favorite AU, but also is convenient for another post I was gonna make today, haha.

For context, there are a few things you should know about me:

I did not watch The Rise of Skywalker until literally three or four weeks ago.

I have never written an mpreg in my life. (It's true that lizard brain craves noncon in a way that compels me to read the occasional mpreg... But while writing my own fic, I do try to keep lizard brain's demands as realistic and in character as humanly possible.)

Perhaps the most important thing to note: lizard brain always wins.

Anyway... this all started when I happened upon the RoS spoiler: "Rey is Palpatine's granddaughter" in the year of 2022. Having not watched the movie, I immediately wondered who the fuck the grandmother is (a question to which my actual RL mother ceaselessly chants "Mommy Mothmama" every time; do not ask me why.) Of course, lizard brain, being lizard brain, immediately headcanoned a dubiously consenting Darth Vader somehow being this elusive grandmother person. (The "somehow" was not important to lizard brain.)

For a year or so, I actually put off watching RoS — in small part because lizard brain didn't want its headcanons to be refuted. Fortunately for lizard brain, I have amazingly supportive friends who informed me that Rey is actually the daughter of a strand (aka a special Force clone) which was cast into the world only to hook up with some unknown female. Unfortunately for my friends, lizard brain realized that this information didn't refute its grandma!Vader headcanons at all. Quite the opposite in fact. 🙄

Thus, began the saga of lizard brain's precious Vader Mpreg AU.

In summary, Palpatine creates a synthetic uterus to host an ordinary clone of himself. Then, he implants the uterus into Vader's abdomen and fucks the shit out of him to get some perverse dark-sided Force magic going. Why, you ask? :) Well, dear anon, in order to transform this regular clone baby into a strand of course, lizard brain replies. :) :) :) To be clear, there is no creation of a vagina nor any other method to give birth. Instead, this strand baby, once ripe for the picking, is simply plucked from Vader's abdomen via c-section, and a newly prepped uterus is inserted in its place. After that, Palpatine repeats this process and all of its trial-and-error glory every nine months for the rest of Vader's life. (But don't worry; Vader will eventually flee to Obi-Wan, who is horrified to find his once-Padawan eight months pregnant.)

Honestly, excepting dubcon/noncon, this actually isn't that weird for me. Lizard brain already possesses a plethora of headcanons in which Palpatine modifies Vader's body. The uterus implanting kinda just feels like an extension of that. (For an example of these headcanons, urinary and intrarectal catheters have been installed into Vader's body, not out of medical necessity, but because it would be inconvenient for Vader to have to pee and poop while dressed in the suit. For another, maybe Palpatine put in a full-blown mechno spine replacement to eliminate bothersome nervous-system functions such as the registration of pain.)

In fact, while this body-modifying headcanoning won't enable live births or lactating breasts (for now.... please don't tempt my lizard brain), it will go beyond the uterus. :) For example... prepping Vader for sex sounds like an incredibly tiresome task, and it's not like anyone else can do it. Vader doesn't have any limbs, after all. Instead, Palpatine wonders, why not have Vader's anus be self-lubricating in way similar to that of a vagina? Why not scifi-gene-splice the shit out of that butt canal? Why the fuck not?

📝Share a snippet of an unposted WIP, with or without context.

I feel like the above AU description is pretty clinical, so I thought it would be fun to bring some emotion back to it via the use of a snippet. So, enjoy the wildly inappropriate noncon of a pregnant male villain:

At some point, he realizes the truth—that it isn't him being fucked into the mattress, face down, ass hooked on his Master's cock. Sidious isn't fucking Darth Vader or even his body. Sidious isn't even fucking Anakin Skywalker. In actuality, Sidious is fucking the uterus. The womb. The fetus. The uncast strand, the unborn infant. In actuality, Sidious is fucking himself. The truth of it has him choking on the respirator, on a dry and tearless sob, because this isn't about him, none of this was ever about him, it's about what Sidious wants, what Sidious likes, what Sidious craves. Vader is only the conduit of this ritual—far less than a pet or even a slave. Once, yes, he may have been an object of Sidious's obsession, and maybe he liked that, maybe he liked the way that Sidious took pride in what was once his greatest creation, in twisting Anakin Skywalker into this charred and rotten beast of a Sith. Because, even loveless, Sidious's pride burns value into Vader's flesh. Makes Vader feel as if he matters, as if he's worth something, as if he can live up to the magnitude of the pressure smothering him from the inside out. Punishment, after all, and pain and strife and sorrow, are their own kind of affection, ideal for the swollen carcass of need festering within his chest, and often better than the shame that blooms with praise.  Right now, as his sphincter clenches around the cock inside him, as the base of his spine shoots overwhelming pleasure upward, as a fetus kicks at its shrinking walls pressed against the mattress, Vader finds that he is being neglected. The absence of Sidious's intimacy leaves his furnace-heart chilly and black and hollow, and he chokes and sobs and chokes and sobs, and the monotonous blue-blue-blue of this bedroom becomes half-blurred and dizzy as a torrent of tears spills from his right eye's still-functioning tear duct. The thrusting crests, and tapers out. Sidious's breathing evens, but Vader's choked sobs just won't die.

I would say I'm sorry, but I am who I am lmao.