#I usually don’t have to think much about others will see it

[daemonbrain]

Part 1

3.5k, cw: ghosts a pervert and stalker, readers husband is a piece of work, brief mentions of sex, explicit, not proofread

Simon Riley wasn’t one for the romantics, he was a simple man. Wake up early in the morning just as he would on base, complete his training regimen, take a quick shower, and rot away in his one bedroom one bathroom apartment until he's recalled for a mission. A mundane life for the soldier who dealt with life-or-death circumstances just as many times as he’s brewed himself a cup of tea.

But even Simon had things to look forward to. After enduring the monotonous routine of his week he’d practically sprint to the butcher's shop, not for love of the finer cuts of meat one could find, but to see his bird. 

Still the fittest thing he had ever seen, your relationship evolved from standing with your back turned to his debauched stares to you actually saying hello to him. Slowly hello turned to little conversations. By conversations, it mainly consisted of you prattling on about one thing or another while Simon grunted out a short “yeah?” or “hm.” Sometimes he felt bad that his pretty little thing who always had endless things to say spoke to him, someone who was pretty much a brick wall in conversation.

But, ah well. He couldn’t think of you banging on the headboard while he fucked you and fully pay attention to what was said in his defense.

At times he didn’t know whether to scold or praise your ability to dole out kindness to even a cold bastard like him. A stranger was what he was, and you still managed to speak to him as if he were any other man you’d meet on the street.

He didn’t deserve it, he knew that. Not with the things he has done to others. Things that would send your pretty little head toppling off your shoulders if you knew. Not with the way he prowled behind as you shakily made your way up the slippery sidewalk, plastic bag with groceries in hand.

He didn’t deserve it, but he was sure as hell certain your fuckwit of a husband definitely didn’t deserve it. That prick left you walking alone and cold the whole way home, letting you know minutes before he was supposed to pick you up from the butcher’s shop. 

That pathetic guy didn’t want to take care of his wife? Didn’t want to pay attention to his girl? Well fine, he didn’t need to. Simon would. 

As if it physically pained him to watch you have to lift a finger, he sped up his pace and loudly cleared his throat from behind.

Whirling around in fright, your tensed shoulder immediately relax upon meeting Simon’s eyes. Your body shivered from the winds, yet you beamed at him with the warmth of the fuckin’ sun. 

“Simon! What are you doing here?” You chirped out in greeting, clasping your hands together as the bag dangled from your fingers. You waited for him to stalk up to you, broody as ever. 

His pretty little songbird, who tweets out her hellos even when the frigid weather demands a more mellow tone.

In his usual unsettling manner, he stops right in front of you. “I live up this way.” He lied. 

“Really?! I’ve never seen you coming up this way.” He was so close. He had to crane his neck downwards to look at your face, cheeks and nose probably frozen from the biting wind. Your brows furrowed in what he assumed to be suspicion, and he truly wondered for the first time if you actually had a semblance of survival instinct after all.

Raising a brow, he points to a random building in the distance. He picked something far enough away from your own home to quell any unease.You lived in that reddish-brown building about two blocks away. Though you’ve never told him that.

“Just righ’ up there. Usually don’t go this way, but the other route is closed off.”

Your furrowed brows quickly correct themselves at his words and you assume your resting expression, one much softer. “Well… we might as well head up together then!” You laughed in joy and Simon felt his cock twitch for similar reasons. It seems the concept of “stranger danger” wasn’t drilled into your head hard enough during your formative years. 

He’d never dream of doing something to hurt your cheery demeanor, but he couldn’t say the same for others. People can be nasty and, if you survived this long without that bubble being burst, he’d be more than happy to tear apart the prick who’d try. Pricks like your husband.

Wasn’t it a soldier's duty to protect the peace? Something like that anyways. 

He noticed the way your poor fingers stiffly held on to the bag, the weight harder to carry because of the chill in the air. His hands itched to help.

You quirked your head to the side due to his lack of anything to say and Simon merely jutted his head towards what you carried, “Give it ‘ere.” Your mouth opens to protest, but Simon doesn’t give you the opportunity as he easily plucks the bag from your hands. “Come on,” He began to walk again while ignoring his bird’s shrill whistles of objection to his help “You’ll catch a cold out ‘ere if we don get’cha inside soon.”

Catching up to his long strides, you approach from the right and sigh. You’re inclined to tell him it’s really not necessary, but the heat that bloomed in your chest as a result of his breathy chuckle interrupted you.

You didn’t even need to ask him to help... he just did. 

You couldn’t help the way your eyes wondered about his large frame, and he was huge. You had to admit the first time you had spoken to Simon you were a bit rattled when you stuck your hand out to shake his. It was maddening the way he never made a sound, the way his steps quietly padded along the floor when he went up to the counter at the butcher’s shop to pay. 

Occasionally you felt your skin prickle everytime he stood behind you. Whenever you gathered the courage to take a peek you would be met with the sight of him tapping away at his phone without a care, hood of his jacket concealing most of his face. 

Though you could’ve sworn his phone was upside down once?

Cars whizzed past and you shook away those thoughts. Simon happens to be a quiet type, nothing to judge him for. 

“... Thank you. You know, you’re a real nice guy.” Shoving your hands into the pockets of your jacket, Simon slows his steps just enough to move behind you. “Simon?” You turn your head side-to-side in confusion as he nudges his way to your other side.

“Wha’?” He huffed while putting himself between you and the road. 

Odd.

The two of you got closer to the building and in a practiced stop you both pause at the entrance. About to speak again, you’re cut off by the loud ring of your phone. Looking down you see your husband's photo pop up on the screen. With a sigh, you hold up a finger to your companion and answer.

“Hey hun, is something wrong? You said you had a meeting?” You could hear the exhale of annoyance which escaped him before he responded.

“I’m working late tonight. I can’t make it for dinner. Make sure to leave me a plate before you go to bed though.” Of course. He was always late nowadays. One project or another he would say before rolling to face away when you asked him about his day before bed. 

You were his wife! You’d make time for him no matter what, and normally you wouldn’t want to be a bother, but the way tears threatened to bead your waterline in frustration caused your voice to harden a fraction.

“Again? Really? They’re working you a bit hard, don’t you thi-” 

“I have work. I’ll talk to you later.” 

You blink owlishly at Simon who looks back in silence. You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Slowly, you pull your phone away from your ear both saddened by your husband's cold words but also the humiliation of your new friend witnessing the way you were clearly hung up on by your own spouse.

You wanted to turn heel and retreat into the privacy of your apartment. Cook up a meal which will grow cold on the counter and curl into your bed while incessantly tracking the minutes until you hear the door open.

Simon’s eyes narrowed as if he wanted to burn a hole through your phone, and he waited for you to gather yourself.

“I- um,” letting out an awkward chortle, you scratch the back of your neck. “Looks like I'm alone for dinner tonight.” You managed a disingenuous smile. Simon didn’t seem like the type to be able to pick up on subtle social cues like that, you doubt he’d think anything of your words.

“Well I better get back inside… it's freezing out here. Thanks for your help with my bags I-I just have to get started on cooking right now, so.” You reached for your groceries and saw the strange look in his eyes soften a bit. As you pivot towards the entrance, you hear a gruff call.

“ ‘m pretty hungry righ now.”

…How could you be such an idiot! He carries your bags for you, probably chilled to the point of numbness, and you don’t even invite him in for something to eat. Not even a hot drink. All because of your own selfish discomfort?!

“Oh gosh, that was rude of me. Simon, you wanna come in? I have enough to whip you up a plate if you’d like. A ‘cuppa’ as well. Is that what you say?” You asked.

Simon was a kind man. He was intimidating, but surely it was okay to let him into your personal space. After all, the only person who would object to his presence was currently holed up at his office.

“Brought it up for a reason. That’d be great, love.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart pattered in your rib cage at the endearing pet name. Kind words from a kind man. That’s all. You willed your heart to slow with images of your husband, to whom you had the utmost respect for.

The two of you made your way up to the spacious apartment. You bent over to unlace your shoes and take off your coat. It doesn’t go unnoticed how it took Simon a moment to follow suit. When he stood to his full height, a gentle warmth swelled within you when met with the sight of his broad build in the now seemingly small walls of your home. He looked as though he crowded the room more than any of the furniture.

You felt a bit hazy when you moved to the kitchen. You shouted back to Simon who stood put at the door, “Feel free to make yourself comfortable! Go ahead and sit down anywhere.”

Like a flower, you needed your fix of sunlight. You had lots of windows in your apartment to let the natural light in, a giant one looking into your living room. Simon would see you watching your silly shows, tapping away at your laptop while snuggled under a blanket in this very spot. Soon he’d show you the value of privacy, closing the blinds, locking everything before bed. 

There were shady people in the world. Those who’d feed off of your sweet carelessness like it was the best thing to touch their depraved mouths. That wasn’t fair to his bird. 

“ ‘m gonna go to the loo.” and before you even had the chance to give him directions, you watched the Brit make his way to the restroom unprompted.

It wasn’t fair, but he would make it fair. He would keep those bastards far away from you, guard your blissful paradise. Keep you ignorant.

So what if his methods were unconventional? So what if he’s followed you home dozens of times. It was to keep you safe. So what if he spent any free time he had watching you through the windows from the building across yours. 

Closing the door behind him, his lips quirked up at the sight of your things strewn about. Makeup, hair products, lotions taking up all the space on your side of the sink. In the mirror, his eyes caught on the laundry hamper sat in the corner. He had been here once before.

So what if he has come into your apartment during the late hours just to catch a whiff of your scent. Just to pull the blanket you had knocked off, deep asleep, while on the couch waiting for your prick husband. You needed someone. He could do good by you, or at least try his hardest to.

With practiced ease, he turns to open the hamper. Hands grabbing with the eagerness of unwrapping a present only to be met with a sorry sight.

“For fuck sakes”  He whispered.

You and your cleaning. The damn thing had been emptied out of all things with your lovely fragrance, tossed in the wash. With the quick roll of his eyes, he quietly puts the lid back on to the stupid thing.

He had been much luckier last time. After taking it upon himself to sneak in and close a window you left wide open, he had the urge to explore around. Fast forward to when he arrived at his treasure chest (the laundry basket) he was rewarded for his considerate act. He had nabbed a dirty pair of panties with sheer ecstacy. 

In the natural progression of things, his cock had hardened with urgency. He had stroked himself eagerly to the thought of your soft, snoozing breaths. A bead of pre-cum already poised to roll down his shaft. You drove him mad, only a few walls separating the two of you. He could walk over to you now, shove your legs apart and sink himself into paradise, in pure euphoria. He continued to jerk himself to the edge of his peak. He had taken in the sight of everything from your loofah to your robe to the pink toothbrush unobtrusively in the corner.

A shiver went down his spine as he looked at the very same toothbrush at present. He wondered how many times you had unassumingly used it since that night.

Images of his desperation flooding back, a hint of something akin to guilt. He had squeezed your panties to his face as if he was trying to suffocate himself, impatiently grabbing for anything else that could connect him to you when he felt himself begin to strain under the stimulation. He had grunted when your scent filled his nostrils, unlike how his balls emptied themselves, his release spurting all over your toothbrush.

When he came back to his senses, he had turned the coated thing over and over in his hand. You’d be none the wiser if he just… washed it off, right? No harm in something you wouldn’t know about. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than lightly run it under the tap.

“Simon! Food is ready!” You shouted. Breaking from his stupor, he steps out of the restroom and moves back to the counter overlooking the kitchen. You gave him that sweet grin while setting the food in front of him.

“Looks delicious, love. Thanks.”

You sat on the seat beside him with a plate of your own. You both tensed at the proximity for the same reason. Taking your first few bites, you look at Simon who blissfully closes his eyes and groans with satisfaction.

That warm feeling begins to simmer in your belly wrongfully so. You turn back to chew before breaking the silence. “I’m glad! It’s been a while since i’ve sat down and ate with someone… it’s a lot different to watch someone actually enjoy something you put effort into.” He didn’t miss the wistful expression you wore. He wanted to fix it, he never wanted to see that pretty mouth fighting stay curved upwards.

Whether it be unknowingly or not, you brushed your knee against and for a moment you both paused in that position. The touch was light but it felt as though Simon’s body was overloaded with only you. Your touch, your eyes, your everything.

It took himself a second to recompose himself, but when he realized your body stayed put; his heart just about soared. Taking another forkful of food, he casually glanced at you and nudged his knee unmistakably to yours. The sound of your cutlery clanging onto the plate gives him a degree of satisfaction.

You simply kept looking down to your plate, whatever was in front of you, anything except his intense stare. Simon was a stranger. Simon was unsettling. Simon was in your home. Simon was so strong, so large he could manhandle you in ways your husband could never.

Your husband. Your life partner who you’ve remained loyal to for years. This was so wrong. You should be leaping out of your chair and separating yourself by 3 meters at least in protest.

So how come you allowed his hand to grip your thigh? You frowned, yet surrendered to his fingers which tilted your face towards him. You didn’t know Simon, but you’d be dense to miss the dark glint in his eyes as he takes in your hesitancy.

How the tables have turned. It was always you who initiated interaction with the morose giant, but as he held you firm in his clutches, you could only sit in wait for his next move. 

Testing your reaction, he slowly brought his face closer to yours. Braving his gaze, you could only recognize want. He pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw as you tilted your chin upwards. You weren’t sure whether it was to avoid his lips or grant him better access to your neck.

“No no no come back to me. Come back.” He urged you carding his other hand through your hair, tugging you back. He had to see his bird's face, commit her to memory. Would her expression be like what he imagined? Better?

With a shaky raise of your arm, you caress his face with uncertainty. He needed to fuck you. The most depraved, wicked parts of his mind demanded it. His blood went straight down south at your gentle touch. He needed you to feel him, to feel all of him. 

He would protect you from all the perversions those other tossers had to offer, with only one thing in return. To corrupt you from the inside with his own special brand filth. His fingers tightened ever so slightly in your hair.

“I wanna fuck you,” he leaned closer to your ear and nipped it “and I have a feeling my pretty bird wants the same thing, yeah?”

Simon’s words sent a jolt to your brain to sink further into the daze. Your lips parted and you turned to him with round eyes hiding the temptation swirling behind them. Your eyes wildly roved across his face, searching

He carried your things, he called you pretty, he ate your food, he talked to you, he wanted you, he wanted to fuck you, he wanted you to want to fuck him, you want to fuck him, you want to fuck him, you want to fuck him-

His impatience got the better of him when he pulled you into a frantic kiss. His lips were warm and the feeling of his hands holding you secure and upright only added fuel to the fire. How would they hold you when he took you to your bed? Would he be so kind?

Had Simon known your phone would ring loudly moments before finally getting what he wanted, he would have broken it with his own bare hands.

Your eyes cracked open to only be met with the sight of your husband’s contact photo and all at once your guilt hurtled at you. Sensing you pulling away, Simon couldn’t help but try and keep you to him for even a moment longer. He knew it was over when you pushed at his chest to break the connection.

“I’m- oh my gosh. I… i’m a horrible person! Shit! Shit!” You spiraled as you hurriedly got up from your seat and backed away from Simon as if his touch had burned you.

“Hey, hey it’s okay-” He attempted to console you, but was sharply interrupted with a tone he had yet to hear from you.

“No, no! You need to leave. Get out, please!” You screeched in shame. As Simon once again tried to approach closer to placate you, you only put a hand up with a hard look. “Leave. We shouldn’t have done that, it was a total betrayal of trust!” 

“Okay. Okay. Don’t worry, ‘m gone.” His arms went up in surrender as he mirrored your own backward movements.

Your mind really went blank as you took deep breaths to calm yourself, Simon’s heavy footfalls receding and eventually fading from earshot entirely.

While you focused on calming yourself from your “mistaken” judgement, Simon could only think of one thing. 

If his bird couldn’t be happy because that fuckin’ asshole was still in the picture, he’d have to weed out the problem from the root.

He was a dead man walking.

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with performance unit

[ 🍵 ] how they would spoil their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would plan to make them feel special

jun

place: cat/dog cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d have your coffee/tea order + favourite baked goods memorised (to the point where if they didn’t have what you’d usually order, jun would know what you’d take instead)

what they would be like taking you out: jun would be the epitome of sweet and precious, because mans wouldn't be able to stop smiling. seriously, the grin he'd have on his face would be low-key concerning because how can someone smile for that long, but at the same time, he'd make you feel so at peace and comfy with his gentle persona

“they are so us,” jun giggled and pointed at two cats trying to claw each other's eyes out. 

you shook your head and took a sip from your cup. if it was anyone else you’d start wondering if they even liked you, because comparing you to a rather aggressive cat was not on your top 10 compliments list, nor was it something you’d like to hear on a first date.  

but the boy in front of you was far from “anyone else”.

“you’re feisty,” jun pointed at the black cat, “just like her.” 

before you could think through what you were about to say next, you blurted out, “well, at least now we know who’ll wear the pants in our relationship.” 

it was safe to say that jun looked like an angry tomato for the rest of the date.

hoshi

place: laser tag

what they would do to make you feel special:  if you’d end up on opposite teams, soonyoung would do anything to let your team win (he’d be so proud in thinking he was being sooo sneaky about it) because seeing you happy is so much better than winning (you’re the only exception though, anyone else - the fight is on)

what they would be like taking you out:  this man is too unpredictable to know for sure how he’d act, but generally speaking it could go either two ways: 1 - soonyoung would be filled with so much energy, beaming with happiness and just so much affection for you that you’d have a hard time knowing what he’d even be on about (lovingly), 2 - he’d turn into a stressed little guy that just wouldn’t be able to believe that he’s on a date with you??? you gorgeous creature said yes to go out with him??? no one pinch him, because if it’s still a dream he doesn’t want to wake up. this version of him would be quite quiet, but in a soonyoung way quiet

“stop!” you laughed, quickly looking back to see if hoshi was still running after you. 

and running he was. more like charging at you at full speed, to be honest, with a fake gun in his hand and devilish grin on his face. 

“you’re not going to get away this time!” he yelled back, getting closer to you with each step. and there was no way you’d outrun him, na-ah. 

“it’s not how you play this game,” you said and bursted out in a fit of laughter, as soonyoung wrapped his strong arms around your frame, engulfing you in a sweaty hug. 

“i don’t care,” he giggled, pulling you closer. “the game is over for me anyway, now that i’ve got you”. 

mingaho

place: painting class

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d be the best listener. i know that is the bare minimum, but at the same time the bare minimum is in hell so… yeah. you’ll never meet a better listener than hao, who could sit on the uncomfortable wooden chair, covered in paint and listen to you for ages

what they would be like taking you out: such a gentleman, to the point where you start wondering if it’s not a dream. gentle, funny, kind, understanding, charming - you could go on for forever trying to describe minghao. all of that said, though, hao would honestly be so so nervous, because come one… so many things could go wrong… and he seriously liked you. like really really liked you.

“how the hell did you manage to get your paints to look like that?” you pointed at hao’s palette that was full of pretty colours, unlike yours. unfortunately. 

“hm?” he mumbled and looked over at your station. you could see the smile forming on his gorgeous face, but since he was the textbook definition of a green flag, whatever you want to call it, he quickly composed himself and pointed at the paints in front of him. “just mix this and this.” 

“uh, yeah,” you huffed, ���i did the same and mine looks like shit. literally.” 

this time he couldn’t help but laugh. “let me help, yeah?”

dino

place: a board game cafe

what they would do to make you feel special: he’d try his best to play all of your favorite board games, because one thing about chan - he sucks at understanding game rules (seriously, all of his brain cells would be sweating to understand the game). so it’d truly be heartwarming how this precious boy would try so hard to understand what would be going in front of him. 

what they would be like taking you out: stressed. and. nervous. as. fuck. he just doesn’t want to mess it up, okay? chan knows he’s handsome and pretty and funny and charming, BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER!!! all of his rational thinking flies out of the window whenever he’s around you, and “what were you saying, i was too busy staring at your beautiful eyes”. shakes like a leaf the whole time. 

you could clearly see a question mark forming above chan’s head, as you tried explaining the rules for the third time. usually, you’d be quite annoyed at the person for still not getting what you were saying, but he looked so adorable, with his big puppy eyes and all, that you had to stop yourself from cooing out loud. 

“i’m sorry,” chan said, looking down. “i’m just not the best at understanding games.” 

you leaned over the table and put your hand over his. his head whipped up so quickly you wondered whether he didn’t pull a muscle doing that. 

“it’s okay, channie,” you smiled at him. “we can play something else, y’know?” 

he shook his head, and scooted his chair to sit closer to you. “no, no. let’s try again. i promise i’ll get it this time”.

[atlabeth]

in over my head

masterlist

pairing: spencer reid x fem gideon!reader

summary: between all the arguments, you and spencer begin to understand each other a little bit more.

a/n: wauw.... out of nowhere i wrote 4k words and finished this chapter in one night... god bless spencer reid. i hope you all enjoy. r's cold heart is finally starting to defrost. title from the fray song

wc: 5k

warning(s): arguing, case discussions (stalking, murder, etc), talk of parental neglect, hurt w/o comfort then hurt/comfort. r lowkey freaking out this whole fic. the usual good time

You lean against the wall, trying to keep your breathing as quiet as possible. 

You don’t really want Spencer to know you were eavesdropping on him the whole time. You don’t really want him to see the look on your face because he defended you to your dad. 

He— he should expect it, shouldn’t he? He’s sitting out in the living room on the phone, and you’re you. It’s only natural you’d listen in on him. 

Spencer defended you to your dad— mouthed off to him in very un-Spencer-like fashion. 

Why? 

From what you’d gathered, he practically worshipped the guy. Even if he didn’t, your dad was still his superior. It didn’t really seem like any kind of good idea to talk back to him. 

But he did. 

For you. 

You thought Spencer merely tolerated you because he had to. You wouldn’t blame him, the way you treated him. So why would he do something like that for you?

You’re jarred out of your thoughts when you hear Spencer say your name. You blink back into yourself to see him standing in front of you, and you feel your face burn. 

So much for not being obvious. 

“I’m assuming you heard everything?” he asks.

You nod. You have the decency to not insult his intelligence, at least. 

“That means we can go over everything,” Spencer says, already starting to walk away. “Come on.”

You frown. You expected him to be mad at you for eavesdropping, or use what he did for you as leverage for something, or— or do anything but act normal. 

You shake yourself out of your thoughts once again as you follow him back to the living room. Spencer sits back down on the couch and you tentatively sit across from him. 

“I don’t want what I said to scare you,” he says. “Hernandez may be our lead right now, but I doubt it’ll stay that way. Elle and Morgan are going to check him out, and I’ll get another call once they do.”

You blink. Of course he’d expect you to be focused on that part—your stalker, the threat against your life, the whole reason you’re in here. Not Spencer sticking up for you. 

“Right,” you say. “Do you think it’s him?”

“Honestly? No.” Spencer sighs and shakes his head. “You heard what I said. He doesn’t fit the profile—he’s a man who made the worst choices of his life when he lost everything. If he’s been released, he might have actually changed. We’re only on him because he’s all we’ve got.”

“…Good,” you say. “Strangling wouldn’t be my top way to go.”

“You need to stop talking like that,” he says. 

“I need to stop doing a lot of things,” you respond. “Any idea how much longer we’ll be in here?”

Spencer shakes his head. “We’re here until this case is solved or our cover is blown.”

You huff. “Like if this guy finds us again?”

He nods. “But that shouldn’t happen. Elle, Gideon, Hotch, and Strauss are the only ones who know about this place, and they’re obviously sworn to silence.”

“Strauss?”

“Erin Strauss,” he says. “The BAU’s section chief.” 

“Ah.” You realize you’re still holding your mug, now empty, and you lean forward to set it on the table. “What happens if we’re made?” 

“You’ve got to stop thinking about the worst case scenarios,” Spencer says. “Pessimism doesn’t just make anxiety, depression, and paranoia worse—it can raise your blood pressure, increase your chance of cardiovascular problems, and mess with your immune system. It’s literally bad for your health.” 

“Well, what else am I supposed to do?” you ask. “I’ve got a stalker and we didn’t realize until he’d been watching me for a month. Your team has only got one lead and you don’t even think it’s the right one. That sounds pretty negative to me.” 

“We’re still at the beginning of this case,” Spencer says. “It usually takes a few bodies for us to figure out what’s really going on and find the unsub in our regular cases.” 

You stare at him, and he seems to realize what he’s actually said. 

“Of course, there won’t be any bodies in this case!” he rushes. “You— you’re going to be perfectly fine!” 

“You’re really not great at reassurance,” you say wryly as you pick up your cup and stand up, “are you?” 

“Homicides only occur in two percent of stalking cases!” Spencer continues, his voice rising as you go into the kitchen. “A- and you might not even be the primary target! If anything, he might be going after your dad!” 

By now you’ve finished filling your mug again. You stop at the edge of the hallway when he finishes, leveling a tired look at him. 

“Thanks, Spence. That really helps.” 

You walk back to your room, and once again, you only close the door halfway to humor his concerns. 

If you’d lingered a little longer, you would have been able to see his frown. 

“Spence?” he murmurs in confusion.

-

The rest of the day goes by smoother than you thought it would, largely because Spencer keeps his distance and you don’t fight it. 

You busy yourself with more cleaning—you never finished it after your last outburst—and when you finish that, you read. You find Pride and Prejudice in the box of books the BAU provided, and it’s a good distraction. You’d much rather worry about the problems of the Bennets rather than your own. 

You end up cooking first, and you offer Spencer some of your pasta when you finish. He initially looks shocked at the olive branch, but you figure you owe him something for all he’s put up with. 

You don’t tell him that, of course. You just tell him he has five seconds to make a decision before you finish the rest, and he snaps out of it pretty quickly. 

(“I promise I’m capable of cooking,” he says as he spoons a helping into his bowl. “I— I just don’t have much time for it. We’re always out on cases so we go to a lot of restaurants, and I get take-out at home because I get home at ungodly hours.” 

“Just shut up and eat your food,” you say. “I don’t need to hear your opening statement.” 

“Actually, I wouldn’t call this an opening statement. It’s more of—” 

“Oh my god.” You pick up your bowl and walk off. “Goodbye.”

“I think it’s more of a witness testimony!” he calls out.)

A similar thing happens with dinner, where you pull out the old reliable of chicken and rice. Dressed up a bit with some of the vegetables that are somehow already on the verge of going bad, but still the same thing you’ve eaten a million times throughout your life. You don’t really feel like cooking, but you also don’t feel like having to hear Spencer set the smoke alarm again, so you settle for this. 

(“You know,” Spencer says as he cuts into a chicken thigh, “I should really be trying everything first. Just in case there’s poison or something.” 

You stifle your incredulous laugh. “How would there be poison in anything? You all bought and brought this stuff in.” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know. But you can never be too careful.” 

“You’re ridiculous,” you say. “I— I think that is the most ridiculous thing you’ve said since I’ve met you.”

“I hope you’re not challenging me,” Spencer says. “Because I can beat it very easily.”) 

Between that, he calls out on occasion to make sure you’re still alive. You think it’s stupid, but it seems to ease his mind, so you play along.

He gets a call from your dad late at night, which he then goes on to relay to you—Agents Greenaway and Morgan paid a visit to Adam Hernandez, and they weren’t able to find anything suspicious. Penelope Garcia is going to comb through everything she can find on what he’s done since his release before they officially abandon the lead, but Hernandez is on parole and hasn’t violated it once—he seems to be clean. 

You don’t know whether you’re thankful for that or not. On one hand, you want this to be over. Getting lucky on the first suspect would be great. On the other hand, having a face to all of this scares you more than not knowing. You still have the chance to deny that all of this is real, really real—when they find their guy, you can’t do that anymore. There’s actually someone out there that wants to hurt you. 

The thought crossed your mind more often than not. 

Other than that, he doesn’t really bother you. Another thing where you don’t really know if you’re thankful or not. 

It’s close to midnight, and though you haven’t been able to sleep, you’re ready to accept this as another, thankfully non eventful day. 

But then there’s a huge flash of lightning, visible even through your closed blinds, followed closely by a deafening crack of thunder, and your whole body freezes up. Your hands stop on the page you were on, and a chill runs all the way through you despite the layers of covers you’re under. 

Rain has been pittering against the house for half the night, and you can deal with rain. You can’t deal with thunderstorms. 

You let out a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. The absolute last thing you need to do is work yourself into a panic attack and get Spencer involved. You don’t think you could take the embarrassment. 

You attempt to go back to your book. You’d just arrived at Mr. Collins’ unsuccessful marriage proposal, but you can hardly focus. It doesn’t help when lightning illuminates your room once again, a clap of thunder sounding even quicker after, and your lamp flickers for a moment. This is actually the last thing you need—for the power to go out. 

A knock on your door suddenly sounds, and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’re already on edge and the storm’s just barely started. You hear Spencer call your name and ask if you’re awake, and you clear your throat before you respond. 

“What do you want?” You try to keep your voice as level as possible, but it wavers ever so slightly. 

“Can I come in?” 

You don’t want him to see you like this. “Is there something wrong?” 

“It’s the storm,” he says, and he doesn’t wait for you to respond. “I’m coming in.”

You have all of two seconds to make sure you don’t look as pathetic as you feel before Spencer walks in.

He looks like he just got out of bed. He’s wearing a Caltech crewneck and sweatpants, and his glasses are about to fall off his face. His disheveled appearance is in stark contrast to his usual image, with dress pants and button-ups and sweater vests galore. One of his hands clenches around the doorframe, and he uses the other to haphazardly push his glasses up as he sets his eyes on you.

“You need to come back into the living room,” Spencer says. 

“And good evening to you too.” You try not to look at him. You’ve learned that’s the best policy when it comes to him and those stupid glasses. “Why?”

“Because there’s a storm going on, and the power’s already flickered,” he says. “I don’t want to lose track of you if it does go out.”

“If the power goes out, we’re in the open out there,” you say. “If you’re so worried about it, you should stay in here.”

You expect a fight, but he just sighs and sits down in the chair across from your bed. “Fine.”

You frown. “That was easy.”

“I don’t feel like fighting with you over every little thing,” he says simply. “You might enjoy it, but I don’t. So I’m trying to take the path of least resistance.”

“That’s no fun,” you say.

“Well, you’re not very fun to be around,” Spencer says. He glances at you for a split second before his gaze goes back to the wall. “So.”

“Well, neither are you!” You don’t mean for your retort to come out so defensively, and you cringe as he looks back at you. It’s impossible to be around profilers without them knowing your every intent. You’d hate to know all the thoughts he’s had about you. “I might turn everything into a fight, but you turn everything into a drag.” 

“You’re doing it again,” he says. You expect him to go on, but he leaves it that. You find your brows furrowing deeper. 

“And?” 

“Maybe if you recognize your patterns, you’ll stop,” he says. “Sometimes people don’t realize they're doing something until it’s pointed out to them.” 

You huff. “How many times do I have to tell you not to psychoanalyze me?” 

“I don’t choose to do it,” Spencer says. You don’t miss the slight bite behind his words, and it almost makes you smile. As much as he doesn’t want to give you a fight, he can’t really help himself. You tend to bring out the worst in people. “It just happens in my brain automatically.” 

“Try to hold back,” you say. “It—”

Your words die in your throat with another crash of thunder, almost simultaneous with the lightning. It shakes the whole house, and you can’t help the full body flinch that wracks you, almost freezing completely. The power flickers again, and then it goes out altogether. You don’t even hold back your groan of annoyance. 

“Of course,” you grit out. “Of fucking course.” 

“Are you okay?” You look at him despite yourself, and even in the dark you can see the concern in his eyes. It makes your hands clench into fists beneath the sheets.

“Fine,” you mutter. “It doesn’t matter.”

Spencer frowns. “Of course it does.”

You scoff. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Why would it not matter?” he asks incredulously. “You— you’re clearly distressed, and holding it back isn’t helping anyone.” 

“Maybe I just like silence.” 

“Well, you clearly don’t like storms.” 

“How’d you figure that one, genius?” you mutter. You wrap your arms around yourself and pull your knees up to your chest, trying to lessen the sudden chill you feel. 

“...Normally, I would give you a real answer,” Spencer says. “But based on the lecture you just gave me—” 

“You figured right,” you snap. It only takes a second—and those stupid, soft eyes of his to dart away again—for you to feel… bad. 

He sighs and shakes his head as he stands up. “I’m going to get a candle. Stay put.” 

You tense as he walks out. Your whole body does, actually. You don’t know what it is about him or those stupid eyes that always manage to skirt out sympathy from you. 

You should feel gratified. At the start of this, you wanted to push Spencer to his limits—he’s too nice for his own good, and you wanted him to not only give you a more concrete reason to hate him, but get a reason to hate you back. Then you wouldn’t have to deal with this one-sided rivalry with the apparent saint of the BAU. 

But you don’t. You feel bad, and you hate it. You hate it more than any reasonable person should, but then again—you’ve never been reasonable. 

Spencer comes back in sooner rather than later, two lit candles in his hands. You can see the on-sale sticker plastered on the side of both, and you suppress a laugh. It’s something so small but so typical. 

“One’s vanilla, and one is,” he squints as he shifts it in his hand to read, “beach escape. What does a beach escape even smell like?” He shakes his head, then looks at you. “Which one do you—” 

“I’m sorry,” you interrupt. You blurt it out before you can even stop yourself. 

This time, it’s Spencer’s turn to frown. His face is illuminated from beneath by the candlelight and it gives him an almost haunting beauty, highlighted with yellow and white along his jawline and cheekbones. The flames are mirrored in the lenses of his glasses. “For what?” 

“For snapping.” You almost snap at him again out of instinct, and you let out a long, loose sigh in an effort to try and chill out for once. “Sorry. Again.” 

“Oh.” He stands there for a moment holding the two candles, and it could be a laughable sight were you not near consumed with guilt. “Uh— it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not.” 

“Fine,” he says, “it’s not. Which candle do you want?” 

“Which one do you want?” 

“This isn’t where you have to start the ‘being nice to me’ thing,” Spencer says. “They’re kind of starting to burn my hands.” 

“Beach escape,” you say. He nods and sets it on your bedside table, then sits back down in his chair after placing the vanilla one in the window sill. 

“You… seem a little pent up,” Spencer says after letting the silence dwell for a beat. His shoulders have relaxed some, not hunched up almost to his ears. Small victories, at least.

“I don’t talk about my emotions much,” you respond in equal fashion. “It’s not really my thing.” 

He shrugs. “Why not start now?” 

You laugh. “Why would I ever start now?” 

“You said it yourself,” he says. “I have a psychology degree. I’m a good listener.”

“You interrupt me all the time to say stuff.”

“You interrupt me all the time too, so I guess we’re even.” Spencer shifts in his chair. “Besides, I can listen when it’s important. And this is.”

You stare at him. He stares back. 

He has beautiful eyes even in the dark, and you hate that you can’t deny it. Deep brown like the oaks surrounding this place, that shine like pools of honey in the firelight, that always seem to soften just so when he looks at you.

You break first. You have to look away. You always have to look away. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” you manage. “I was a latchkey kid. Storms happened a lot when I was home alone and they scared me. I guess they still do. Happy?” 

“Believe it or not, your pain doesn’t make me happy,” Spencer says. 

“I didn’t think it did,” you say, trying your best to snap. 

He nods. “So we’re in agreement?” 

“I—” you pause, a slight frown creasing your brows. “I guess.” 

Spencer nods again, and he leans forward a bit. “Wasn’t that a lot better than fighting with me, getting upset, and isolating yourself?” 

You scowl. “Don’t you dare therapize me.” 

“It’s hard not to,” Spencer says. “Especially when you seem determined to make our conversations one-sided.” 

You scoff. “I do not.” 

“You act like talking to me is a physical pain.” He crosses his arms. “You locked yourself in the bathroom last night to avoid talking to me.” 

“I locked myself in the bathroom so I wouldn’t lose my mind in front of you,” you say. “Just because I know everything about you doesn’t mean I want you to know everything about me.” 

Spencer scoffs. “You don’t know everything about me.”

“My dad talks about you more than you think,” you say. “About your whole team—but especially you.”

“Where am I from?” he asks. 

“Vegas,” you say. “He mentions it every time you beat him at cards.”

“That— that doesn’t really matter,” he says. “I know you’re from Fairfax.” 

“The worst place in the world,” you say emphatically. You can’t believe you’ve been stuck in NoVa your whole life. “Doesn’t count, though. You’re an FBI agent—you’re supposed to know things like this.” 

“So it counts when you know it, but it doesn’t count when I do?” Spencer asks. 

You nod. “I’ve heard about Penelope Garcia. I’m more surprised you don’t know everything about me by now.” 

“Me too,” he says. “Garcia can find anything. Gideon really did a good j—” 

He stops in the middle of his sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he clamps his mouth shut. 

“What?” You lean forward, looking him in the eye. “He did a good job doing what?” 

“I don’t want to start another argument,” he says. 

“Oh, poor you.” You don’t think you could sound more sarcastic if you tried. “You don’t want to hear me talk about my absent father that didn’t have time for me because he was too busy with you.” You glance away. “You don’t know what it feels like.” 

“There’s something you don’t know about me then,” Spencer says. “Because I do.” 

“Unless your dad’s ignored you all his life in favor of his job and the stray genius he found there, you really don’t.” 

“My dad left when I was a kid because he couldn’t deal with my mom’s schizophrenia,” Spencer retorts. His words get you to look right back at him—they’re not overly sharp or exceedingly soft, just matter-of-fact. “I haven’t seen him since. So you’re right—I don’t know exactly what it’s like, but I know a hell of a lot more than you think.” 

Regret hits you immediately, sour and spiny as it settles in your chest. You’ve been an asshole to him this whole time, and all along he’s held this inside of him? All along, you’ve been accusing him of stealing your life from you when he’s lost more than you have. 

For a moment, you can only stare at him, at a loss for words. He meets your eyes in equal measure. You might know a lot about Spencer Reid, but you’re quickly realizing you don’t know Spencer Reid. 

“Guess we’re a lot more similar than you thought,” he says in your silence. 

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you murmur, finally managing to muster up words. “That’s awful. You didn’t deserve that.” 

“No one does,” he shrugs. This time, he’s the one to look away. “But it is what it is.” 

“How can you just say that?” you ask. You lean forward, a frown creasing your brows. “How are you not just— just angry all the time? That your dad doesn’t give a fuck about you or your mom?” 

“For a while, I was.” He chuckles, but there’s no heart in it. “I was angry at everyone. My dad, my mom, the adults around me— I hated myself most of all. It’s part of the reason I was so good in school. I didn’t want to think about it, I didn’t want to deal with it, so I studied as hard as I could, read as much as humanly possible.” He smiles thinly at nothing in particular. “Turns out I’m very good at avoiding things when I want to.” 

You shake your head with a scoff. “You’re a better person than I am. I would have hunted him down by now and given him a piece of my mind.” 

“It’s not worth it.” Spencer looks back at you. “He decided he didn’t want to be a part of my life. I’m not going to reward him by letting him ruin it when he’s not even here.” 

Is that what you’re doing? Letting your dad ruin your life by letting him occupy every part of it even when he’s not there? He’s influenced every part of your life, every part of you, and he hasn’t been here for half of it. Sometimes you’re surprised he didn’t miss your birth.

Another flash of lightning, another crack of thunder. You tense every muscle in your body to stop yourself from flinching as hard in front of Spencer. You think he notices anyway.  

“I’ve been angry at my dad since I was a kid,” you say once you’ve recovered. “He missed my dance recitals and my gymnastics meets and my soccer games, but he signed the checks for all of the payments. He told me to take honors and AP classes and missed the ceremonies for the awards. He was never there for anything that mattered, but—” you laugh again, and you blink back the tears— “but he waited until I was eighteen to get a divorce so I wouldn’t have to deal with a custody battle.” 

You bite down hard on your lip to force them back even harder as you look at Spencer. “Isn’t that fucked up? Neither of them have been there for us, but they’ve still shaped every part of us with their absence. We can’t escape it even when they’re not here, because them not being here is what caused it.” 

“I refuse to give him that much power,” Spencer says. “My dad left. He chose to leave. He doesn’t want anything to do with me, so I don’t want anything to do with him. I mean, I’m an FBI agent. I work with some of the best profilers in the world. I could find him if I wanted to, but I’m not going to waste my time chasing some pipe dream of a father that doesn’t exist.” 

“Your situation is different, though.” Both his eyes and tone soften, and something inside you stirs. “The only break I know Gideon’s taken was that six month medical leave that was practically forced on him. I think it would take an actual, life-threatening injury to get him to take another one. It’s a lot different having someone around and just… being neglected.”

“I’ve just always felt like such an asshole for it,” you mutter. “You all save lives every day. You’ve taken down a thousand sick criminals.” You shake your head with another mirthless laugh. “My dad saves women like me every day, gives them the chance to see their fathers again, and I’m mad at him because— because he won’t meet me for brunch? Because he missed my school band concerts?” 

“It’s not that simple,” Spencer says. “It’s never that simple. You don’t need to feel bad for hating him, but you also don’t need to feel bad for loving him, too.” 

You scoff. “There you go again with the psychology degree.” 

“It’s the truth,” he says. “Just because you feel rightfully angry doesn’t mean you don’t still love him. It’s part of the reason why you’re so conflicted about him.” He gave you a wry smile. “It makes everything a lot more complicated, doesn’t it?”

You shift in your bed. “Far cry from everything you told me before all this started.” 

“We see completely different sides of Gideon,” Spencer says. “I’m just… ashamed that it took me so long to believe you about all of it.” 

You huff a laugh. “I’m the one that should be ashamed. I thought you had this— this perfect life, with my dad loving you on top of it. That’s why I hated you so much.” 

He perks up. “Hated? As in, past tense? As in, you don’t hate me anymore?” 

You try to bite back your smile. You barely succeed. “Call it a truce.” 

Spencer grins and nudges his glasses back into place once again. “This might be my favorite truce since 1914.” 

“Christmas Truce,” you nod. “Good one.” 

“You know it?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “I’m a teacher.” 

Spencer blinks. “You— you are?” 

“Why is that such a surprise?” you ask. 

“You’re so…”

“Mean to you?” You chuckle. “Trust me, I’m not like this with my kids. My job is one of the parts of my life that I’m actually happy with.” 

“...Huh.” Spencer smiles at you, and you find yourself smiling back, subconsciously. “You should tell me about it sometime.”

“Sure,” you nod. “Maybe you can tell me about everything you do sometime.” 

“You’re sure you won’t get bored?” he asks. “You might not realize, but I have a tendency to rant.” 

You laugh. “Part of our truce.” 

This time, he nods. “Cool. That— that’s cool.” 

You roll your eyes as you look away, but your smile betrays you once again. Your gaze snaps over to the lamp as it flickers back on, and you realize you haven’t heard any thunder in a while. 

“Looks like the storm’s passed.” Spencer separates two of the window blinds with his fingers and peers through. You’ve never really focused on his hands like you do now—with the way you feel your face burn, it’s probably a good thing. You look away as soon as possible. “Just rain, now.” 

“Good,” you say, and you let out a yawn. “All our talking tired me out.” 

“Good,” he echoes as he picks his candle up from the window pane. “You should get eight hours of sleep a night, and I know for a fact you don’t.” 

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, professor.” 

“You’re the teacher here,” he says. “I should be saying that to you.” 

“And yet you’re so much more annoying than I could ever be,” you muse. 

“Does our truce include this?” 

“Naturally.”

Spencer chuckles and shakes his head. He starts walking to the doorway, but you speak up before he can leave. 

“Night, Spencer.” You pause as you bite the inside of your lip, then continue before you can stop yourself. “I really enjoyed talking with you.” 

He hesitates for a moment, his hand lingering on the doorframe. Then he bids you goodnight in the same fashion, actually saying your name. “I did too.”

It makes your heart skip a beat. 

Spencer closes the door behind him, and you find yourself staring at the wood long after he’s gone. You jolt when you finally come back into yourself, and you shake your head to get out of the haze. 

You glance at the clock on your bedside table, and blink when you realize it’s almost 1:30. You really do need to get to bed. 

The smoke makes you cough as you blow your candle out, and you wave a hand around to dispel it before you turn the lamp off. You lay down and pull the sheets up around you. You end up having to switch positions at least five times before you start to get comfortable. 

But the strangest thing is plaguing you despite your restlessness. You were freezing before the storm started, even when the electricity was working, but now there’s a strange warmth attempting to permeate within you. It almost helps you relax. 

The room feels a lot smaller without him in it. 

You exhale, long, slow, and deep as you close your eyes. The scent of vanilla lingers in the air.

You hope you don’t dream tonight. 

[lexirosewrites]

Hiii I don’t usually go here, but I have had a few Disjointed Thoughts(™) for like WEEKS and I finally decided to share on this, the most holy (hole-y, hah) of days, Slick Sunday.

SO. O!Steve, A!Eddie, shocking. Steve is excruciatingly aware that, physically? He’s not really the Ideal Omega, at least by societal standards. Or his parents’ standards. Or his own, if he lets himself think about it too much, but that’s why he simply Does Not Think About It. Emotionally, he’s pretty solid. He absolutely loves his forcibly-adopted, feral, teenage pups. He’s excited to have his own one day, and to have an Alpha who loves him and their pups. He is always taking care of somebody, particularly the people he cares about, and most of the time it’s not even a conscious choice.

Physically, though?

Physically, he’s taller than an omega usually is. He spent so much time doing sports before he presented, and then after to keep up the image. Plus, let's be honest, he's absolutely keeping himself in shape and strong enough to defend/protect his little chosen pack. No matter how he or other people might feel about it, nothing is as important as keeping everyone safe, even after the UD is taken care of.

He and Eddie have been getting close, though. Eddie made enough anti-secondary-gender-roles speeches in school that Steve's pretty sure he won't mind that Steve is more invested in keeping them all safe than playing the part of “good little omega.” He was certainly impressed when Steve had to bite a bat in the Upside Down, and that's not very Omegan. The problem is, Eddie is such a perfect Alpha. Robin always makes a face when he says it, but Steve can feel it in his soul. Eddie is loud, exuberant, fiercely loyal, and protective of anyone who might need it, particularly when he cares about them. He's good with his hands, between his guitars and tinkering with his van when it has a new issue every month. He bickers with Wayne constantly over bills, trying to get his uncle to let him help more, leaving stray bills in Wayne's pockets when he loses the argument.

If Eddie can be such a good Alpha, Steve can try and be a better Omega, just a little. He does tone his more Alpha-like tendencies down a little, just to be safe- doesn't bring up playing sports/working out as much when Eddie's around, asks Eddie to help move things instead of just doing it himself, lets other people grab stuff from high shelves rather than volunteering himself. It seems to be going well, all things considered. He and A!Robin (who knows about the Omega-image issues, but not that he's been playing a bit more of the helpless Omega for Eddie, because she absolutely wouldn't approve) are sure Eddie's going to ask him to start courting any day now, really!!

To hopefully kick-start the process, Steve eagerly volunteers to help Wayne with some manual labor. Something with the siding of the trailer; it won’t be difficult, but it'll be a lot easier with two people. He'd have helped anyway, of course, but he's very aware that Eddie is devoted to his uncle and wants him taken care of. Surely, if there's anything that would outweigh any distaste from the non-Omega-like behavior, it's helping Wayne. The day of, though, he's on a ladder (Wayne is holding the ladder steady; Steve threw a hissy fit when he tried to go up himself), hammering in the last couple nails when Eddie gets home.

Normally, Eddie seems ecstatic to see Steve in any scenario- at one of their houses, after Hellfire to take the kids home, the few times they've passed each other in the grocery store- but when Steve looks over to say hi, he doesn't look… pleased. He actually looks kind of. Angry? Maybe? His eyes are blank, not filled with the warmth he's used to. His mouth is pressed together in a thin line, jaw clenched.

Steve has gotten pretty good at reading Eddie, knows his facial expressions like the back of his hand, but this is new. New and not happy. It makes him self-conscious, make him want to jump off the ladder and go beg forgiveness from his Alpha for whatever he did, but Steve pushes it down. He's got a job to finish, and if that face is directed at him for too long there's a good chance he's going to start whining- or worse, crying. Eddie gets back in his van immediately, though, driving off who knows where. Steve tells himself he was probably just having a bad day, and didn't want company. That's just a thing that happens. Nothing immediately to do with Steve, surely, and Wayne doesn't seem bothered so it's fine. Definitely.

A few days pass, and the party are all at Steve's house. The pups (who are nearly grown, now, but that doesn't stop them from being Steve's Pups, okay?) are mostly in the pool. The technically-adults are enjoying the sun and calling out warnings when the play-fighting gets a little too rough. Steve and Lucas are practicing basketball a few feet away, trying to nail a particular, super impressive move that even Steve can only do with about 40% accuracy. (I don't know basketball, I'm sure something like this has to exist though, right??? Indulge me lol) The two of them have been at it all summer, to better Lucas’ chance of getting varsity next school year.

Then Lucas nails it. Absolutely picture-perfect form, better than even Steve has ever done it. And they go NUTS. Everyone is looking over, confused but generally amused at their antics. Steve is so proud that he doesn't even think about it, just lifts Lucas up so he's sitting on one of Steve's shoulders, so Steve can hold him up with one arm and gesture wildly with the other while parading Lucas around, explaining exactly why this is so impressive to the non-athletes.

Except. Then he happens to look over at Eddie. And it's the face from the other day. Closer now, he can see that Eddie's knuckles are white where they're clenched around his beer bottle. Steve still can't get a read on it, and Eddie hasn't been in the pool yet so the scent blocker is keeping Steve from being able to tell what's the matter. Again, Steve's first instinct is to figure out what he did, how he can be better. But this is Eddie. He's probably just bitter about a sports thing interrupting whatever nerd conversation he was probably having, and he'll get over it quickly. Besides, Lucas deserves his moment.

Eddie is fine the rest of the night, and it doesn't come up, so Steve manages to mostly forget about it. But a week or two later, Steve is dropping Max off at home after physical therapy, and she's clearly too tired and exhausted for the stairs but she'll never admit it. Steve moves slowly, telegraphing his intentions as obviously as he can to give her an out, but she doesn't take it. So he picks her up, gently as possible, and carries her up the steps, grabbing her crutches as well.

He doesn't push it, even if his Omega would be thrilled to bring her in and make sure she gets settled and drinks some water, because it'd make her uncomfortable and this is already a lot. They don't talk about it, they just say their goodbyes and Steve goes to drive home. He glances over at the Munson's trailer, purely out of habit, and in the window is Eddie. With the same facial expression as before. He turns away from the window before Steve can react, and the curtain is pulled.

Steve has the whole way home to question this, and the only similarity between the two events that could have caused that face is… Steve being too Alpha-like. The manual labor, carrying the pups around. He's too strong, too big. He's not a good Omega, and his Alph- Eddie, who isn't his Alpha yet and maybe now never will be- Eddie doesn't like it. He drops. Hard. He's not sure how he makes it back to his house, or inside. The next thing he knows, he's sitting next to the phone, Robin's voice coming distant but frantic from where it's dangling by the cord next to him.

Then she's there, in front of him. Worried, clearly, but Steve can't bring himself to do anything about it. He just stares. Time passes, clearly, because at some point he finds himself in his own bed, nest haphazarly built up around him where someone presumably tried to make it bigger without disturbing anything, staring blankly at the ceiling with Robin pressed against him.

His face is wet.

His eyes hurt.

Oh. He's been crying.

He remembers why.

His breath catches, and it's enough to get Robin's attention. She scrambles up, holding his face while she takes exaggerated breaths. He matches her breathing until he's sure they're past the risk of hyperventilating. He tells her everything- not just the times Eddie has seemed upset, but every time he's tried to be better, to be less, every time he's questioned if it would ever be enough. She clearly wants to comment, but she lets him get it all out first. When it's clear he's done, she bundles him in her arms. Calls him a dingus, so he'll crack a smile. They slowly transfer back down the stairs, curling up in a mass of limbs in front of the tv to watch whatever they can find without getting up.

Steve drives her home around midnight, knowing she has work tomorrow and he's got the day off. He swears he's fine, that he'll call if something changes. He waves her off, drives away, and heads in the opposite direction of home. He's okay for now, but if he goes home, he'll think about how empty it is, how he may never have an Alpha to help him fill the space and the quiet, and he won't be okay for long.

He ends up at the quarry. Still quiet, and he's still alone, but at least it's intentional here. He's not exactly watching the clock, but he's only idly thrown a handful of rocks down into the water when he hears a noise he could pick out anywhere. Eddie's van is pulling up, faster even than the ridiculous speeds he usually does. The gravel flies up as he slams on breaks, and the headlights are still fading out when Eddie throws himself out the door.

He hurries towards Steve, and when he's close enough, he drops to his knees. Steve tries to ask, tries to pull him up because that can't be good for Eddie's knees, especially when he's clearly in his pajamas and some untied shoes but Eddie grabs his hand and holds it in both of his own. Trips over his words as he tries to explain, rambles that Robin had called him after she got home, that Eddie had immediately run out the door, went to the house first and then drove around to find Steve.

Steve can feel the shame heating his cheeks, prickling in his gut. He's already mentally cursing Robin's overprotective nature. Of course she'd immediately tried to defend him. She'd probably told Eddie off, something embarrassing about leading him on or believing too much in gender roles despite his own nonconformity or whatever else. Steve tries to pull his hand away, but Eddie's got a firm grip and pleading eyes, and Steve's Omega is too desperate for some approval after his drop earlier to try too hard.

Eddie looks like he's tearing up, and Steve is too caught off guard by this whole thing to hold back the whine it pulls out of him. Even if he's hurt, seeing Eddie upset almost hurts his Omega more than anything else. Eddie's eyes go wide, and he surges to his feet, pressing Steve's hand to his chest and letting a reassuring rumble answer. Steve hates himself a little bit for how much it does calm him down.

Eddie rushes to explain. He's in love with Steve. He thinks Steve's easily the best Omega he's ever met, loves how much he cares for the people around him and protects their pups (Steve tries valiantly to ignore how his heart skips a beat at it being THEIR pups. He fails). The face Steve has been seeing has been Eddie straining to keep his Alpha from begging to bond with Steve on sight. Eddie wanted to court him, wanted to take it slow and romance him and do things properly because Steve deserves it, not ask Steve to have his babies in front of all their friends.

He's been waiting to ask, has been making Steve his own battle jacket since he'd liked Eddie's in the Upside Down as a first courting gift. Apparently, tracking down patches for artists Steve likes is a lot harder than finding patches for Eddie's favorites, and hand-sewing them all on has taken even longer. It's everything Steve could have ever hoped to want and so much more, and Eddie's not wearing any scent blockers, so underneath the heady smell of leather and comfort and Eddie, Steve can tell he's being honest.

The misunderstandings are forgiven. They start courting immediately, and Eddie gives him his own vest to wear as an IOU until Steve's is done. Robin is very mildly scolded for spilling Steve's business, which is cancelled out by the grin on Steve's face as he does it and the hug she tackles him in immediately after says she doesn't regret a thing. It's okay, though. Neither does Steve.

-irrelevantbutembarrassing

chomping on insecure omega Steve because he’s so biteable💕

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Ok my current web as of rn

Sandra Lynn Faeth: Divorced from Gilear Faeth, married to Jawbone O’Shaughnessey with at least one adopted child (maybe 2 at some point in the future if they adopt Kristen), has one bio kid with Gorthalax which happened while she was with Gilear and she also got the Kalinavirus from him while with Jawbone, at one point was interested in Sklonda Gukgak (and got with her in an alternate timeline I think), had a one night stand with Garthy O’Brien while basically chaperoning her daughters spring break adventure trip in sophomore year

Gilear Faeth: Divorced from Sandra Lynn Faeth, married to Hallariel Seacaster with one child on the way, was at one point shot to death by the dead Bill Seacaster for sleeping with his wife and then immediately resurrected and accepted as one of the family, also at some point tried to get with Sklonda Gukgak before deciding “she’s too much woman for me to handle” (also his unborn child is nemeses with his stepson but that’s unrelated), carries a generational curse that somehow transferred to his nonbiological daughter

Hallariel Seacaster: Married to Gilear Faeth with a kid on the way, widowed from Bill Seacaster local insane man who she has a child with

Sklonda Gukgak: widowed from Pok Gukgak with whom she has one child, dating Gorthalax the insatiable the 10 ft tall pit fiend who is the mother of one of her sons friends and also the coach of his sons schools bloodrush team, has been pursued by Gilear Faeth, was at some point interested in Sandra Lynn Faeth who she got together with in an alternate timeline

Pok Gukgak: deceased husband of Sklonda Gukgak, headcanoned (no proof I can see as far as canon goes) to be interested in Bill Seacaster local insane man

Bill Seacaster local insane man: deceased husband of Hallariel Seacaster with whom he has a child with, shot his ex wife’s (is that the right term for when you die and your wife continues living?) new husband Gilear Faeth instantly killing him and then immediately welcoming him into the family once he was resurrected, headcanoned to be interested in Pok Gukgak, also has had an undetermined amount of children with other women across the seas mainly in leviathan (exact number unknown but probably a lot) who mostly got eaten by a mindflayer with a vendetta (also. Like probably slept with Garthy at some point right)

Jawbone O’Shaughnessey: Married to Sandra Lynn Faeth with whom he has one adopted child and one stepchild, usually polyamorous but agreed to be monogamous for his wife (who proceeded to have an affair), for sure slept with Garthy O’Brien at some point before meeting Sandra Lynn, otherwise we have no fucking clue what he was up to before that (but like given his general habits and their general habits it’s safe to assumed he at some long slept with the Thistlesprings right)

Digby and Wilma Thistlespring: Included together because we don’t know any names of people they been with but we do know they are absolute sex machines and swingers (see Jawbones note for more info)

Gorthalax the insatiable: has one bio child with Sandra Lynn Faeth through an affair while she was with Gilear Faeth, his job is literally tempting people to show their worst sides which often includes sleeping with them, currently dating Sklonda Gukgak, gets along way too well with the husband of the mother of his child

The Abernant parents: One is dead one is being chased in a nightmare forest by a van with hands that’s all we need to know about them

The Applebees parents: Fully in a cult they’re probably up to some freaky shit on the side but as far as we’re shown perfectly normal monogamous suburban fam (besides the yknow cult stuff)

I think that’s all of the canon and semicanon/headcanon stuff

I love how instead of the Bad Kids getting into a tangled mess of relationships it’s their parents who are all dating each other

[angelfic]

dc vs vampires!dick grayson x reader

warnings — mentions of death, weapons, blood, vampire dick duh. unedited as per usual my bad

a/n; vampire dick gets me going like no other so let me know if i should make this a series… a more fleshed out series or just more drabbles (does this count as a drabble?) idk im asking the audience

dc vs vampires!DICK GRAYSON who allows you to stay human, as a kindness.

you try your best to hide from him, camping out in different bunkers every few months all over blüdhaven with groups of other survivors. the resistance is slowly dwindling and you know of other groups littered around, hearing tales of how each of them are being turned, imprisoned or simply wiped out.

you know he’s sparing you and the people you’re with to play with your mind. he doesn’t truly care for them, and all he wants to do with you is own you like he does the rest of his followers.

you know this, because he comes to visit you in the dead of night when you’re alone.

“hi, sweetheart,” he says, voice as smooth as ever, but you listen intently for the dangerous edge that wasn’t there before.

he steps forward and your stomach swoops as it does every time you see the startling red of his eyes that seem to glow in the flickering light of your room. you instinctively grab the knife tucked away in the waistband of your pyjamas, unsheathing it and gripping it tightly as you raise it in front of him.

“stay back,” you warn, unable to say his name.

he glances down at your knife, and grins wolfishly, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. “hot,” he whispers, taking a step toward you unflinchingly. “you know i always did love seeing you with a weapon. never thought you’d be turning it on me though…”

he sighs deeply, as if suffering from temporary amnesia. you shake your head, slowly backing up. “you’re insane. you know exactly why. i just don’t understand why you don’t just kill me like you’ve done all the rest.”

dick’s smirk falters for a moment, but his confidence doesn’t waver. “kill you?” he echoes, advancing further. “no, no, i saved you. i could have turned you that night, but i didn’t. because i wanted you to choose, sweetheart.”

“choose?” you hiss, gripping your weapon tighter. “to become one of them? to join you in slaughtering humanity? the same humanity you once loved.”

his expression remains blank, and your heart clenches at the fact that he’s unaffected by your words. he doesn’t care because he physically can’t anymore.

“you’re thinking too small,” he says softly. “humanity was always heading in this direction… all i’ve done is speed it up. i can control it now. no more of the depravity we used to witness, we can be so much stronger. especially with you by my side.”

“yeah,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “me at your side, watching you rule over everything like some kind of God?”

the next step he takes has you frozen. his presence was overwhelming and you’re paralysed by the way his gaze softens even though you know that every move is calculated. “i don’t want to be a God,” he murmurs, cold fingers reaching down to brush gently up your forearm, making you shiver. “i just want you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the chest and all you can do is stare at him. he’s terrifying, but so, so beautiful. you’re sickened by the thoughts running through your head and you screw your eyes shut.

dick takes the opportunity to reach up with his other hand to brush your hair away from your neck, leaning in to inhale deeply.

too late, you realise, his fangs are out as they’re hovering over your throat, threatening to break skin and allow your blood to flow onto his tongue. he always talks about how sweet you’d taste, how badly he wants to drink from you. you don’t bother stopping him — you couldn’t if you tried. surprisingly, he seems content with just staying there and you find your voice eventually.

“stop it,” you whisper, voice trembling. “stop trying to mess with me. i know who you are now and it isn’t the man i loved.”

dick lifts his head, not bothering to increase the distance between the two of you, allowing you to see the way his expression turns troubled. “i’m still me,” he mutters, careful not to let his fangs show as he pleads with you in the way he once did to earn your forgiveness. “i swear, that hasn’t changed.”

“you are not the man i loved,” you enunciate, tears stinging your eyes as you repeat your words to him like you do to yourself in the early hours of the morning when you can’t sleep.

dick’s expression darkens. he catches a stray tear with his finger and tilts his head. his voice is slightly colder now, more detached. “you still love me. i can feel it. but it’s alright, i’m a patient man.”

he drops a kiss to your cheek, where the tears threatened to flow before stepping backwards. “i’ll be back, sweetheart,” he murmurs, reassuring you as if you’ve begged him to stay.

and with that, he’s gone. disappearing into the shadows as quickly as he had arrived.

you collapse to the ground, knife forgotten at your side. your heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.

because this isn’t your dick grayson. you know deep down that your dick doesn’t have pale, ghostly skin that makes you flinch when he touches you. or fangs that glint menacingly when he talks.

but it’s a little hard to remember all those things when he looks at you with those eyes, that in the dimly lit bunker, look as lovingly at you as they used to.

a/n cont.; im gnawing at the gates of dick’s vampire manor begging to be let in so he can turn me… pick me, choose me, bite meeee🧛🏻🤍

[imloyaltoscoups]

just platonic? | yoon jeonghan

Once again, you're at Jeonghan's apartment, casually scrolling through Netflix on the TV, searching for a good show to watch, when you hear him sigh from the kitchen. It’s one of those exaggerated sighs that usually means he’s trying to get your attention without actually asking for it.

“Something wrong?” you call out, not looking up.

“I don’t know. Is there?” Jeonghan replies, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You finally glance up, seeing him leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a mug of coffee. His hair is slightly messy, falling into his eyes, and he’s wearing that oversized shirt he always claims is ‘comfy,’ even though you know he just likes how it makes him look.

“What are you on about now?” you ask, putting the remote down.

Jeonghan shrugs, taking a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing much. Just wondering why someone would spend so much time on the screen when there’s such captivating company right here.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh please, you just want attention. You’re like a cat, always craving someone to pet your ego.”

“And yet,” he says, his voice lowering a fraction, “you’re the one who always ends up giving me exactly what I want.”

You feel your face warm slightly at the suggestive undertone in his voice, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “Only because you’re so high maintenance. Someone’s got to keep you in check.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widens. He puts down his mug and walks over to the couch, sitting down a bit too close for comfort. “You sure that’s all it is? Because it kind of feels like you enjoy taking care of me.”

You huff, trying to ignore the way his leg is brushing against yours. “Someone has to. God knows you’d starve if I didn’t make you dinner every now and then.”

“True,” he says, his voice softening just a bit. “But I don’t just mean the food. You take care of me in other ways, too.”

The sudden sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you glance at him, meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes, something deep and familiar, and you know he’s not just talking about the meals you cook or the times you make sure he’s getting enough rest.

You quickly look away, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not getting too full of yourself.”

He chuckles, his shoulder bumping against yours. “Too late for that, don’t you think? You made me this way.”

“Yeah, right,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

There’s a brief pause, and then he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You know, if you wanted to keep me in check more often, you could always move in. Think about it—all the time in the world to tell me off for being too charming.”

You laugh, pushing him away lightly. “And spend even more time listening to you whine? Thanks but no thanks.”

Jeonghan grins, undeterred. “I’m just saying, you might enjoy it. We’d be good together, you know? Like an old married couple—arguing one minute, making up the next.”

There’s that undertone again, the one that’s somewhere between a tease and a promise. You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time, but there’s no denying the butterflies you feel.

“Keep dreaming, Hannie,” you say, though there’s no real bite in your words.

He just smiles, leaning back on the couch and stretching out like a contented cat. “Don’t worry, I plan to.”

You lean back, crossing your arms as you try to ignore the heat rising in your face. Jeonghan, as usual this fcker, seems to have an uncanny ability to make you flustered, even when you know he’s just messing with you.

He glances at you sideways, his lips quirking into that sly smile that tells you he’s thinking something far more wicked than what he’s letting on. “You know, for someone who’s always pretending like we’re ‘just friends,’ you really do let me get a little too close sometimes.” His eyes flicker down to where your leg brushes against his, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

You scoff, trying to keep your composure. “We are just friends. Stop trying to make it into something else.”

He leans back, his body close enough that the air between you seems charged. “Sure we are,” he says in that tone, the one that’s laced with something unspoken. He reaches over, his hand resting casually on your thigh. “Just friends who can’t keep their hands off each other, huh?”

You want to push his hand away, but instead, you let it stay there for a second longer than you should. “It’s not like that,” you murmur, though the lack of conviction in your voice betrays you.

“Oh, really?” he says, voice dropping lower, the teasing replaced with something more insistent. “Then why does your heart beat faster every time I touch you?” His hand moves just a little higher, the fingers pressing lightly against the edge of your shorts. “You can’t deny it—we’ve crossed a line. You’re not just my friend, and you know it.”

You give him a side-eye, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

He shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours now, and his hand that is resting on your thigh move casually to rests on the back of the couch, inches from your shoulder. His voice drops lower, almost a whisper, but still with that undeniable edge of cocky arrogance. “I mean, we both know how good we are at this whole... arrangement. Can’t really call it ‘just friends’ when we’re in bed, can we?”

You stiffen slightly, but you refuse to let him get under your skin. “You’re ridiculous. Stop acting like you’ve got me all figured out.”

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches you try to keep your composure. “It’s cute, you know,” he says, almost mockingly, “watching you pretend like this is all so innocent. But we both know better, don’t we?”

You snort, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You’re really full of yourself today, huh?”

“Am I?” His smirk is sharp, teasing. “Or are you just mad you can’t deny it? Again we’ve already the crossed line, and we both know it. We’ve had our fun. But let’s be real here—you like it. I like it. And it works. So why not just embrace it?”

The way his words hang in the air makes it hard to focus on anything else. You try to ignore the effect it’s having on you—the little shiver creeping up your spine. You know you should pull away, but somehow, you don’t. Instead, you find yourself leaning to him just a little closer, almost subconsciously, as if your body is betraying your mind.

Jeonghan notices this, his smirk deepening. “See? You’re not fooling anyone. So why don’t we make it easier on ourselves? Why don’t you just move in with me? We already spend so much time together, and you’re always here anyway.” His eyes glint with mischief. “It’ll be so much more convenient, don’t you think?”

You let out a deep sigh before looking at him, “I told you before,” you say, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’m not moving in with you. You’re too much to handle.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, leaning closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. “Am I? Because I think you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with all the ‘handling’ I’ve been doing.”

The way he says it makes you flush, but you’re not about to admit it. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Hannie. I’m not that easy.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that’s laced with both humor and something darker, more dangerous. “Oh, I know you’re not,” he says quietly. “But you still let me in. And that’s all I really need to know.” He then leans in closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he speaks again, his voice lower, more intimate. “And honestly, I think we’d be even better if we were together more... You know, living together. Think of all the time we’d have to... reconnect. You wouldn’t have to run home after a long night. We could take things slower... or not.”

The way his breath brushes your ear makes you shiver, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck as he continues, his words slipping into that seductive tone he always seems to master so effortlessly. His lips are dangerously close now, his presence overwhelming, and despite yourself, you’re starting to feel the pull of what he’s suggesting.

“You really know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” you manage to say, though your voice falters slightly, betraying the effect he’s having on you.

Jeonghan chuckles softly, his lips brush against your ear, just a feather-light touch, but it makes your pulse quicken. “I know you like this. Don’t pretend you don’t.”, he whispers.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he continues, his lips now tracing the curve of your ear. You try to keep your cool, but your heart is racing in your chest, and your mind is clouded by the tension between you two. His proximity is too much, and you feel your resolve will start to crack anytime.

“You’re so damn persistent,” you mutter, trying to keep your composure. “Always getting what you want.”

“You’re not so hard to figure out, you know,” Jeonghan replies with a smirk that’s all too knowing. He moves his lips down to your jaw, kissing just below your ear before pulling back slightly. “I already know how to make you give in. But imagine if I had more time with you... more time to make you forget everything but me.”

His lips are soft as they peck your cheek, just a brief, innocent touch, but it sends a jolt of warmth through your body. He doesn’t give you time to respond, immediately tilting your chin gently to face him. You don’t pull away, but your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock onto yours, deep and intense.

“I don’t just want you to be here for a night, or a weekend, or when it’s convenient. I want all of you,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks. “I want you here, with me, all the time. Think about it—having everything we want, whenever we want. No more distance, no more playing games.”

It’s not a suggestion anymore. It’s more like an invitation, wrapped in all the quiet promises that make your heart race and your mind spin. You try to hold onto the threads of control, but his gaze is too damn intense, too disarming. Your mind flashes with the idea of being with him all the time—living together, waking up to him every day, hearing his voice close by at all hours. And just the thought has your stomach flipping.

He tilts his head slightly, still close enough for his lips to brush against your skin every time he speaks. “You already leave things at my place. You think I don’t notice? You’re halfway there already. We’re already halfway there.”

You bite your lip, caught somewhere between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. He’s always been like this—persistent, unrelenting, and yet somehow irresistible. It’s dangerous. It’s thrilling. And the worst part is, you’re starting to want it, too.

“You’re really a pain in the ass,” you say, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced with something softer, something that gives away just how much he’s getting to you.

“I’m only persistent because I know exactly what I want,” he says with a grin, brushing your hair behind your ear as his fingers graze your skin. His gaze flicks to your lips, and the tension between you both heightens in a heartbeat.

You can barely find your voice, the words coming out quieter than you intend. “And you always get what you want, right?”

Jeonghan’s grin deepens, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks, his voice low and smooth. “Exactly. So what’s stopping you?”

p.s: I leave this to your imagination

....... ≿━━━━༺JEONGHAN༻━━━━≾ .......

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi, I really liked it and I thought the maidenless board game club headcanons were really fun, I don't know if you've done it for any other club, but if not, I'd like to ask if you could do it for the basketball club if it were possible, it's the club that has some of my favorite characters and I would really like to read :)

[Maidenless Board Game Club headcanons here!]

asdyugagsodoefa Thank you, I'm glad you liked those original headcanons 😅 That post is actually a bunch of ideas I cooked up while talking with a friend. We also talk about the Basketball Club a lot, so here's a compilation of those too. It should be noted that I do not intend to complete this prompt for all of the characters; I'm only posting the Basketball Club content because I happen to have them on hand. Any and all mentions of the reader are meant to be gender neutral; gendered terms may still appear in these headcanons, but never in reference to the reader.

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Ace tries to claim his stake as the "cool guy" of the team by bragging about his ex to the older players + acting like some dating god and advice dispenser. They seem none too impressed by him, with some of them (including Floyd) dunking on him for being ganged up on and scolded by a bunch of girls.

He swears to his club mates he can bag someone, he just thinks dating’s way too much trouble so he’s fine by himself, thank you very much! It’s Ace obviously scrambling to salvage his pride and reputation among his peers. (No one believes him.)

During the move-in week to NRC, Ace was out in Foothill Town to buy school supplies. He saw Jamil in casual wear and mistook him as a mature onee-san so he catcalled him. Ace rambled on for a while before Jamil cut him off by informing him that he is a man. This shocked and embarrassed Ace so much that he shut up and scurried away, thankful that the chances of running into Jamil again are slim... until he sees the exact same guy at the Basketball Team tryouts.

Ace has too much pride to back out now, but he also deeply fears that Jamil will obliterate him by sharing their first interaction with the team. Whenever Jamil smirks, Ace gets a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach and dreads what Jamil will say next. It could be the end of his social life at school! (It’s dangled over Ace’s head as collateral to get him to behave; if Ace acts out, Jamil will start to tell the story as a warning.)

If Ace spots a cute spectator at their games, he’ll wink at them, then call out and dedicate his next shot to them. (Bro proceeds to completely whiff the throw; the ball bounces off the rim of the hoop.)

He feels insecure about his masculinity, especially when put next to his senpai who get a lot more attention than he does. Ace tries to mooch off their popularity by claiming he’s a lot closer to them than he actually is or by playing up the role of being “the cute one”, only to be humiliated by Floyd or Jamil’s jeers. “Mmm? Isn’t Crabby the one who called me ‘the worst’ the other day?” / “… ‘Cute’? You? Don’t make me laugh. You’re anything but.”)

Attracts a decent amount of romantic attention (which Ace loudly complains about) but never commits to actively pursuing any relationship in the long term. No one seems to hold his interest long enough--and besides, Floyd's not lookin' to be tied down.

When asked “why do you like them?” or “why are you with them?” Floyd usually responds with a shrug or an answer that’s not too well thought out like, “Uh, cuz they told me they were into me?” or, “I dunno, just felt like it today.”

Frequently pisses potential partners off due to his attitude. Floyd can be fun but he flakes very often, saying he’ll be there one day and then cancelling like an hour before the date. He’s never consistent with anything, and that tests patiences.

Also commits the sin of ghosting people once he loses interest or he feels they’re being too needy. Ace calls him a bastard for that, but Floyd shoots back by reminding Ace he did this to HIS ex too.

There was an incident in which his S/O of like... one weekend's worth of time saw Jade in public and approached him, thinking it was Floyd. Jade did not recognize them but played along just to have fun. The S/O was so offended they stormed off and broke up with Floyd via text. He wasn't bothered at all; he and Jade shared a laugh about it. ("You're equally awful," Jamil had chided them.)

Casually and shamelessly talks about his escapades. Doesn’t care to be tactful with his wording, lays it all out there. Ace is super invested in the gossip whereas Jamil makes it clear he’s disgusted by this use of their club time.

Single because he is legitimately way too busy with school, caring for Kalim, etc. to even entertain the idea of a relationship. Doesn’t need that extra stress right now.

Najma calls him “forever alone” to her friends and jokingly acts all disgusted whenever he acts slightly shy or affectionate towards someone. “Oh my gosh, Jamil…! Are you crushing on them?!” she teases him. “Wow, I never thought I’d see the day where you’d be all lovey-dovey…” Since that first incident, Jamil had vowed to himself to never allow his sister see him in such a vulnerable state.

Due to his flat voice and placid face, Jamil is aware he can come off as cold or disinterested. He makes sure to smile a little and to brighten up his tone when speaking with someone he wants to make a good first impression with--but he's also careful never to get too close, to be too familiar. He must keep polite and professional at all times, lest he bring shame upon his name--or the Asims' name.

Jamil has somehow settled into the position of the "team mom" (not by choice, but due to necessity; who else is going to round up all these idiots?). He's the one bringing snacks, reminding the team to behave and to stay hydrated, tending to injuries with his first aid kit, etc. Ace sometimes makes fun of this and claims "no one wants a second parent for a boyfriend", to which Jamil just rolls his eyes and tells him to stop acting so childish.

The only one with some god damn common sense around here. Jamil listens to the callous way Floyd and Ace treated their exes and shakes his head, sighs, and tells them off. In his head, he talks himself up and claims he isn't so stupid as to make the same mistakes that they did if he were in their shoes. (... Yes, Jamil Viper is his OWN hype man for hypothetical romantic situations 😭)

HE’S SO REPRESSED, HOLY SHIT. Since he can’t feasibly go out and seek a relationship, Jamil settles for daydreams of a peaceful domestic life, traveling Twisted Wonderland together, and other adventures. He’d rather die than share any of these fantasies with his peers.

[incomplete-leclerc]

　𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗞𝗟𝗘𝗦𝗦.　franco colapinto · #43

　　　your boyfriend acts on impulse, leading him to get into fights, and you to worry about his safety.

genres : hurt/comfort ... established relationship ... franco x fem!reader.　 request : anon for franco + stitches on a cheekbone for the 100 event.　word count : 0.6k.　warnings : mild arguing ... mention of injuries (bruises, a cut, stitches) ... mention of franco punching someone ... profanity ... some spanish pentanes (i do not speak spanish but i think they're all translated correctly).　 note : tell me why there were no good pics of franco so i had to find a random gif instead LIKE i swear finding pics takes longer than writing the actual fics sometimes.　　　( masterlist )　( taglist )

“Franco? Where the fuck have you been?” you asked disgruntledly as the figure of your boyfriend stepped through the door. Wide eyes, clearly tired, but they softened at the sound of your voice, no matter how irritated your tone was. He dropped his tattered backpack on the floor and pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up tightly and nuzzling his face into your neck. 

“I’m so sorry, hermosa. I didn’t mean to leave you worried,” he whispered. You breathed, closing your eyes and reciprocating the hug. More than twenty-four hours with no word from him had you thinking of the worst possible scenarios to explain what had happened. Although you were still very much mad at him, you let him have the hug that you both needed in the moment. Breathing in his familiar scent, letting it calm your senses just slightly. He was safe, back in your arms. You could finally let your brain take a break from running in circles.

You felt him press a few kisses to your neck, soft and slow, travelling up to your cheek until you pulled away from the hug. 

“Where were you? Why didn’t you call?” you questioned, withdrawing to look at his face. 

“My phone died. And I got in a little fight— but, I’m really okay, Y/n. It was just a crazy night.”

Your face fell. “You’re so reckless all the time, amor. Don’t you ever stop to use your brain once?” 

You knew the words would do little to change anything. Franco was messy. Nothing could magically make him a clean person. Usually it didn’t bother you. It was something you loved about him. But when it got in the way of his safety, it scared you. Staring at the bruises starting to form on his left cheek, and the cut on his cheekbone closed up with a few stitches, you only wished he would listen to you for once. 

“How’d you start a fight this time?” you asked, leading Franco to sit down on the couch. Now that he was back home, it was time for you to take charge and take care of him. And if you were lucky, knock some sense into his brain. He was silent for a moment, thinking of how to phrase what had happened in the mildest way possible.

“Well… we were all drunk, and some guys said some things about you, so I just punched them in the face so they would shut up,” he said simply, trying to stop himself from grinning. You stared at him in shock. 

“Franco—”

“Y/n, you can’t possibly have expected me to just let them talk shit about you? I don’t think I overreacted,” he defended. In his mind, a few bruises to his face was more than worth it to shut up a few assholes talking about his girlfriend. And seeing them run off with much worse injuries than him was satisfying. 

“You didn’t have to fight them over it. Now you’re hurt, and I was left worrying about you for hours. It was unnecessary and completely avoidable,” you pleaded, hoping that he would understand where you were coming from. A few tears building in your eyes stopped Franco from arguing over it more.

“I’m sorry, hermosa,” he whispered, cupping your face and silencing you of any other critical words. You knew it was time to drop the issue. You didn’t want to press him more after he apologized. “I won’t do it again,” he said, noticing the doubt in your eyes. It eased up, and you relaxed slightly. 

“Promise?” 

“Swear on my life,” he assured, sincerity swimming in his pearly eyes. You knew he meant it this time.

taglist: @caffeinboi

[harrywavycurly]

The Almost Bumble Fumble: Roses and Petnames

Part 1: Here

CW: none

A/N: I’m so glad yall wanted more of this, I do enjoy these two they are fun so just let me know if you’d like to see more of them✨

Tag List: @georgiarose94 @maiajadestyles @fandomfreak404 @likea-silhouette @obsessiveenthusiast @thegr8estpuff @triski73 @amarenonamari @cloudyluun

Summary: You have a new Friday night routine and as fate would have it you also get a Saturday morning surprise✨

“Are these your only options?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so teasing as you ask the simple question but Harry doesn’t seem bothered by it as he holds up two hangers that have his shirt options for his dinner later in the evening.

Now if anyone had asked what you do on your Friday nights after work you know they’d think you were a bit off your rocker if you explained how you spend most of your Friday evening cuddled in the corner of your couch with a bottle of wine while on FaceTime with Harry Styles. But it’s the truth and it’s been your Friday routine for about three weeks now ever since you scrolled upon his profile on a certain dating app. Friday nights being your chosen night to spend with each other through phone screens since that seems to be the day when both of you have the most down time. Minus tonight because Harry reluctantly agreed to going to dinner with a few friends but you still get a few hours of his time which he made sure to clear his schedule for. Something that of course you weren’t aware of, you just assume that he calls you at the usual time of five in the evening because he needed some advice on his outfit and didn’t feel like bothering anyone else.

“Uh well I could go back in the closet and pick something else but-you really don’t like the red?” He asks as he looks down at the silky red long sleeved shirt and then back to you with a quirked brow. You rub your lips together as you shake your head making him let out a huff.

“I’m sorry it’s just a lot of red very close to your face.”

“So if I changed my face it would be a winner then?”

“Harry honestly when is the last time you wore that much red?”

“I wear red all the time.” He argues as he tosses the hanger holding the red shirt onto his bed before holding the other shirt option up to his chest as he looks at himself in his mirror.

“No you wear red as an accent color like red with giant white hearts or a floral print on top of it not just solid red.” You explain as you reach over for your glass of wine that’s sitting on your coffee table. Harry rolls his eyes as he moves around his bedroom so he can grab the pants he plans on wearing.

“I just think the blue is boring.” He states as he holds up the pants and the shirt in front of his iPad that he has perched on top of his nightstand, opting for his iPad so he has a bigger screen to see you on but you did tease him about it when he first used it last week because it reminded you of you grandpa using his iPad to take photos during the holidays.

“Blue makes your eyes pop.” You tell him making a small smile appear on his face as he eyes the blue short sleeved shirt one more time. “Besides it has white and pink stripes on it so I’d hardly call it boring.” You add before taking a sip of your wine.

“I wear blue a lot though so shouldn’t-”

“I’ve never seen you in blue.” Harry makes a face that lets you know he isn’t sure if you’re joking or not. You let out a chuckle as you lean over to place your glass back on the coffee table.

“You saw me get tattooed on television wearing a blue and white shirt love.”

“Yeah but that wasn’t in the flesh like in person or even over a phone screen.”

“So if you don’t see it with your own eyes in person then it doesn’t count? Is that what I’m learning tonight?” Harry can’t help but laugh and shake his head when you nod in response, he doesn’t know why but it’s little conversations like this that have him feeling all warm and fuzzy inside and deep down he wonders if it’s because it just feels like a conversation between two people who like each other.

“Exactly now go put the whole outfit on and I’ll tell you if it’s acceptable or not.” You smile at the way Harry doesn’t even hesitate to walk off to his bathroom so he can change. “Oh and remind me again who all is going to be at this dinner?” You only raise your voice the slightest amount since you know he can hear you.

“A few people from the label as well as Jeff and I think Mitch and Sarah but I’m not completely sure if they’ll come or not.” He answers as he walks out of the bathroom messing with the buttons of his shirt. He stands a little bit away from the camera so you can get the full picture of his outfit. “So? What do we think?” He asks as he holds his arms out and does a slow spin making you laugh as you bring your phone closer to your face so you can see the details of his black trousers better.

“Is that a gold belt?” Harry looks down at the belt he picked and immediately starts to undo it so he can slide it off while shaking his head and giving you a shrug.

“Gold belt? No why-why would I pick a gold belt with cool toned colors? That’s absurd.” You just roll your eyes as he mindlessly tosses the belt towards his closet door and gives you a playful grin. “Obviously I’ll wear a silver one.”

“Do you need a belt or is it just an accessory?”

“Uh no I don’t-”

“I like it better without the belt.”

“You know it’s sort of odd I’m taking fashion advice from someone I’ve only ever seen in pajamas or workout clothes.” Harry watches your face as he teases you because neither of you can manage to go long without a playful jab at the other and you find it’s something you enjoy about talking to Harry, he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

“You’re literally the one who called me and asked for my opinion and besides you said my smiley face pajamas were cute.” You remind him as you stand up from your couch and head into the kitchen while Harry walks over to where he keeps his jewelry so he can begin to pick out his rings.

“They are very cute.” You smile when you look at your phone screen and see him concentrating on finding a certain ring, the statement about your pajamas being cute falling out of his mouth without even having to think about it. “What are your thoughts on pearls?”

“Oh I only have inappropriate thoughts about pearls. What about you?” Harry lifts his eyes away from his jewelry case so he can send you a playful glare while the corner of his mouth goes upward into a small smile.

“Are you drinking red wine?” You laugh as you place your phone on the counter making Harry get a decent view of your kitchen ceiling. “You get a bit cheeky on red wine.” He adds as he goes back to picking out a few rings.

“I think pearls would look nice.” You answer his original question, ignoring the one about what kind of wine you’re drinking.

“What are you doing? Why am I still looking at the light fixture above the sink?” Harry doesn’t mean to sound whiney but he also doesn’t have much time left before his driver will be arriving and he would much rather be looking at your face than your ceiling.

“I’m putting a pizza in the oven you’ll get my face back in a few minutes you drama queen.”

“What kind of pizza?” He feels as if he already knows the answer because wine and pizza seem to be your usual Friday evening routine and he’s only ever seen you make one type.

“I’ll give you three guesses and if you get it wrong then I’m hanging up and unmatching with you.” You threaten as you grab your phone allowing him to see your face again after what was really only a few minutes but to Harry felt like half an hour.

“Three cheese on one of those flatbread crusts?” Harry guesses and when he sees you smile he knows he’s right making him grin in return.

“Wow a man who pays attention. You’re a rare gem Harry Styles let me tell ya.” Harry laughs as he clasps his dainty pearl necklace closed, ignoring the way his cheeks feel a bit warm at your compliment.

“I like learning new things about you so of course I’m paying attention to you love.”

“Stop it.” You place a hand over your face as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink making Harry smile. “You aren’t allowed to say things like that to me Harry it’s rude.”

“Rude? It’s just the truth.”

“Because what am I supposed to say to that?”

“You don’t have to say anything.” He reassures as you finally lower your hand allowing him to see your face again. He gives you a soft smile as the two of you just stare at one another for a moment. Harry can practically see his words sinking in, him admitting that he likes learning things about you and he doesn’t really have time to get nervous that maybe he overshared or said something wrong as he watches as you slowly start to smile and look away from him.

The two of you have casually flirted with each other but it normally is in the middle of random conversations and most of the time it’s been over texts exchanged during the week, so hearing him make a comment like that to your face is something you aren’t quite used to. But you don’t hate how it makes you feel, all the butterflies it causes to erupt in your tummy and how pink your cheeks get. And you know it’s not because it’s Harry Styles saying it, it’s because someone you’ve found yourself developing a rather large crush on is saying it as his way of dropping little hints of how he’s feeling about you.

“I like the pearls.” You motion to your neck and Harry just smiles as he takes a small step backwards so he can show you his hands letting you see which rings he went with. “Oh no initials?”

“Eh everyone at this dinner knows my name so there’s no need for them.” You laugh as he shoots you a playful wink.

“That isn’t why you wear them Harry and you know it.” Harry just shrugs as you grab the phone and carry it with you as you head back into the living room to grab your wine glass.

“No I wear them because I’m a narcissist right? That’s what the rumor is?” He questions as he watches you take a sip of your wine that is in fact red making him smile to himself.

“I have no clue? Are there rumors about your rings?” You ask with a raised brow as you place your glass down on your counter before leaning your phone against your coffee maker so you can check on your pizza that’s in the oven.

“I don’t really know actually. I know people think I’m like a hand guy and-”

“Well yeah you’re totally a hand guy.”

“What? I am no-”

“You have a song about choking someone and you have that cross tattoo and all the rings.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m-I’m a hand guy? That just means I like rings and uhm the choking thing isn’t like-”

“Harry.” He stops his rambling and looks at you the moment his name slips out of your mouth making him let out a huff as you just stare at him with an oven mitt on one hand and the other resting on your hip. “We listen and we don’t judge okay? It’s fine. Besides you have nice hands.”

“Thank you.” Harry feels like his cheeks are going to be permanently flushed a light shade of pink with the amount of blushing you have him doing. You hear a light dinging sound come from your phone as you put your oven mitt on the counter.

“Was that you or me?” You ask as the corners of Harry’s mouth start to droop a bit.

“It was me. My driver is here.” You want to roll your eyes at how he lets out a sigh as if going to dinner with his friends and a few label people is the absolute worst thing he could be doing with his Friday night.

“Well have fun and I’ll talk to you later okay?” Harry just gives you a smile as he nods and runs a hand through his hair.

“Don’t worry I’ll be sure to fill you in on any hot gossip I hear.” You laugh as you grab your wine glass so you can take a sip. “Enjoy your pizza and your wine. I’ll talk to you later love.” You smile as he gives you a small wave that you return with your free hand and before he ends the call he quickly blows you a kiss that makes your face get hot just as the screen goes black.

What are you doing right now?

You smile as you read Harry’s text, having spent most of the morning chatting with him about how his dinner went last night you’re not shocked at his sudden subject change. You quickly type out a reply before grabbing your sunglasses and your water bottle and walking out your front door.

About to go on a little walk. What about you?

Harry chews on his bottom lip as he reads over your text, he doesn’t know why he feels a sense of nervousness begin to overtake him for simply wanting to hit the FaceTime button near your contact name in his phone. Now that he knows he wouldn’t really be interrupting anything serious, not that walks aren’t important because he knows you enjoy your “hot girl mental health walks” as you call them and go on a few a week but surely you could walk and talk to him at the same time.

“Oh just do it already Harry don’t be a ninny.” He mumbles to himself as he uses his thumb and presses the FaceTime icon.

“Well hello there.” You smile as you answer after just two rings. “Miss my face already huh?” Harry has to laugh to keep himself from just openly admitting that yes, he did miss you a bit because he didn’t get his usual amount of time with you last night due to his dinner plans.

“How’s the walk going? Are you doing your usual route of going around your neighborhood?” He asks as he notices some trees and bushes in the background as you continue walking down the street near your house.

“Sort of but I’m going left instead of right at the stop sign up ahead.” You inform him as you hold your phone up and flip the camera so Harry can see the stop sign just a few feet in front of you. “See where that leads me.”

“Sounds like an adventure.”

“What’s the pop star got on his agenda today? Anything fun?” Harry just shrugs as he sits down on his couch and runs a hand through his hair.

“No plans today actually.” He answers as you flip the camera back around so he can see your face. “I am feeling a bit restless though so I might go to the gym later-”

“The gym in your house or the gym you do your little boxing stuff at?” You ask before you take a quick sip of water while Harry silently deals with the fact you managed to remember him briefly telling you about his boxing class the other day that he takes at a gym not too far from his house. “What? You thought you were the only one who pays attention?” You joke as a grin takes over Harry’s face as he shakes his head and lets out a chuckle.

“No I just-I don’t know? It feels nice.” He clears his throat before he continues trying to explain how he’s feeling. “I don’t always feel like people are actually hearing what I’m saying. Sometimes I think people sort of get caught up in who I am so they kinda can’t focus on what I’m saying so it’s just a nice feeling to know you’re listening.” You can’t help but feel your heart drop the tiniest bit at Harry’s honesty, having no clue what it must feel like for him to not know if what he’s saying is even registering with whoever he’s talking with or if it’s just going in one ear and out the other because they let the fact he’s Harry Styles get in the way of really hearing him.

“Well you do talk a lot but don’t worry I’m always listening even if sometimes I look like I’m not.”

“Oh yeah? Like that time you were asleep? Were you listening then love?”

“I wasn’t asleep I was just resting my eyelids. Blinking all day is hard work.”

“Last time I checked sweetheart that’s just called sleeping.” He doesn’t mean to let the petname slip out but he also isn’t mad that it did because in his mind he’s been talking and getting to know you for three weeks now so calling you something other than love isn’t that bad, or at least he hopes you don’t take it badly.

“Okay and when was the last time you checked? Because I wasn’t asleep. I responded to your question and everything.” You can’t help the smile that takes over your face as you try to keep the conversation going without letting Harry know how his little petname has you feeling like you’re back in high school talking to a crush. But of course Harry notices right away how your cheeks get pink and your smile seems to stretch extra wide as you continue on your walk, finally reaching the stop sign and heading left.

The two of you continue talking as you enjoy your walk through a new part of your neighborhood. You notice once you’re about five minutes away from where you turned left that the houses in this part of the neighborhood are mostly gated and a bit on the bigger side than the ones in the part you live in. Harry is in the middle of telling you a story from his One Direction days when he notices you stopped walking.

“Everything okay?” His voice is only mildly filled with concern as he can clearly see you’re not hurt and for the most part he can see you’re still alone on the sidewalk you’re currently walking on.

“Oh yes sorry I just got distracted by these flowers.” You say with a laugh as you turn the camera around once again so Harry can see the flowers that had you stopping in your tracks.

Now Harry could argue that he’s quite used to being sort of caught off guard, having been stopped at random and sometimes inconvenient times by people asking for a photo or just wanting to say hi. But being actually shocked isn’t something he’s used to, so when you turn your camera around to show him some flowers he isn’t at all prepared to see his own flower bed appear on your screen. The reason he knows it’s his flower bed that he has right outside his front gate is because of the roses, something his mother planted there during one of her visits and he makes sure to take excellent care of them.

“Uhm those-those are very pretty.” He answers as he quickly gets up from his comfortable spot on the couch and heads for his kitchen where he keeps the tablet that shows the cameras he has around the outside of his house.

“Right? I love roses they are simple but so pretty.” You explain as you flip the camera back just as Harry is taking a little look at the camera he has on his front gate and sure enough on the screen he sees you standing there holding your phone up while slightly bent over so you can smell his roses.

“What color roses are your favorite? I quite like the classic red ones if I’m being honest.” He asks in an attempt to get you to stay where you’re at for as long as it takes him to find and put on his shoes.

“Oh the reds are lovely but the pink-” You stop talking when you hear a sound coming from behind you that sounds an awful lot like a door opening and then shutting.

“Pink huh? I don’t know why I had you pegged for yellow or maybe orange.” Harry watches your shoulders go tense as he stands behind you, right outside his gate. You look down at your phone and see Harry has turned his camera around so all you’re seeing is your back letting you know you’re in fact not dreaming and his voice is really coming from directly behind you.

“Oh my god.” You mumble as Harry ends the FaceTime call so he can slide his phone into the back pocket of his jeans. You slowly turn around and slide your sunglasses up so you can see him better. He gives you a smile and a small wave as you put your phone in the side pocket of your leggings.

“You’re real.” Harry laughs at your comment as you take a small step towards him as if you’re worried he might disappear if you get too close.

“I am.” He answers with a smile as he also takes a step towards you but unlike you he’s not worried about you disappearing he is more so worried you don’t think he’s actually standing here.

“It’s nice to finally meet-” Before he can finish his sentence you’re dropping your water bottle on the ground causing a metallic clanging sound to be heard as it lands, then you’re wrapping your arms around him in a hug that he immediately returns.

“You smell good.” Your voice is muffled a bit as your face is pressed against Harry’s chest but you know he heard you because you feel his chest vibrate as he lets out a low chuckle.

“Would you uhm mind some company on the rest of your walk?” He asks nervously once the two of you pull away. You give him a small nod before you turn to grab your water bottle off the ground.

“I’d love some.” Harry smiles as you slide your sunglasses back down and turn so you’re facing him. He takes a step towards his flower bed and you watch him bend down and reach out for one of the roses.

“Since you like them so much.” He explains as he stands up and hands you one of his roses, you let out a sigh as you take it from him with a smile.

“That was smooth Harry real smooth.”

“Yeah that’s probably the smoothest I’ve ever been.”

“So it’s all downhill from here then?” You tease as you bring the rose up to your nose and give it a sniff. Harry laughs as he takes a step to the side so he can stand next to you on the sidewalk.

“Exactly.” Is all he says as the two of you begin walking down the street, you keep the rose in your hand while Harry has to shove his in his pocket so he doesn’t try to reach over and grab yours.

“Looking forward to it.”

[inkybyl]

Everybody Gangsta till they gotta take their lil sister to nursery

I’m super ill so I finished some old sketches of a Modern/Gang Family type AU I still wanna flesh out 🫶

Lowkey wanna waffle about the ideas real quick in case I don’t draw them

Below is big brother Wrecker and lil brother Tech I love them.

Basically I had this idea that Hunter (as the eldest) has been looking after Wrecker and his younger twin brothers Tech & Crosshair. Still trying to figure out a way to make this work, but one day their dad, Jango Fett turns up at their door with another pair of toddler twins in his arms, Boba & Omega, and asks Hunter if he can take his new little sister in.

I have a concept dialogue so I’ll just throw it in here 🤣

~

“And you’ve come all this way just to tell me you’ve got more kids?” Hunter gruffed, leaning on the doorframe with a displeased look on his face while crossing his arms. Jango sighed, running a hand through his curly locks, “I know this isn’t ideal. But- I don’t know where she’d be safest.”

Hunter tilted his head as he stared down at his blonde toddler sister, “Us? You’re just going to dump her on us?” He questioned, feeling his heart rate increase in a flurry of different emotions.

Jango stared down at his daughter with a solemn look, closing his eyes as he took in a deep breath, gently squeezing Boba’s hand, “Hunter- there’s no time to explain-“, “No time to explain. Right. Plenty of time to make us and move on like we’re just not here until it’s convenient, apparently.”

Jango stared down at his son, his skull tattoo on full display as Hunter refused to break eye contact. He didn’t have the energy to fight. “… Please…”

Hunter’s head recoiled in shock at the gentle tone in his voice, staring back down at his little sister who kept fiddling with her long-sleeved shirt. “Her name is Omega. She’s a curious one so keep an eye out for that. Where I’m going… it’s no place for her… she needs a family that will look out for her.” He muttered, swallowing in an attempt to moisten his throat. Hunter looked up at his father, his eyes flicking to the floor, “… Why not Rex… or Cody? She’ll be safer with them.” Hunter whispered, turning his head away. Jango shook his subtly, running his hand over Omega’s soft hair, “Just look after her, yeah?” He grumbled, his tough personality returning bit by bit as he realised the tears forming in his eyes.

~

So yeah!

In terms of Wrecker - he was only a couple years younger than Hunter so he could help out with looking after the twins, Crosshair and Tech. I have a headcanon that Wrecker was incredibly skilled/knowledgable with technology, weapons and electronics, and while Tech was growing up he had a natural talent for those things, but still needed teaching.

Wrecker would teach Tech different skills like building things from scratch, how to disarm or arm a weapon/explosive, etc etc. In terms of this AU, I’m thinking that Tech desperately wanted to impress his older brother by showing him how much he’s learnt from him, but he got a bit ahead of himself.

~

“Wrecker! You’re back! Come, look at what I’ve built!” Tech joyously exclaimed, pulling his taller brother’s arm through to their garden. Wrecker, back from a work out, was finishing the rest of his drink as he chuckled softly at his little brother’s excitement. “Alright, alright - I’m right behind you.” He playfully shook his head as he ducked out of the way of the doorframe, walking down the steps as Tech sprinted to the other end of their common.

“Stay there, Wrecker! Take a seat on the steps!” Tech ordered with a massive smile, “I know you’re going to love this!”

Wrecker smiled and took a seat on the wooden steps with an audible ‘creak’. “Ooh, am I going to see some fireworks?” Wrecker called over to Tech, squinting to try and see what he was bringing out. Tech pulled out his newest contraption, modelled to look like something Wrecker had tinkered with previously. Wrecker couldn’t inspect the handiwork in detail from where he was sitting, something he would usually like to do before Tech would test his newest experiments.

Tech smiled at his device, it appeared to be a form of firework launcher, possibly to assist the velocity the devices could travel at and reach higher altitudes. He knew how much his older brother loved explosions of different varieties, watching the beautiful combustion of chemicals mix in a stunning array of colours, sound and temperatures.

He ran back and forth to assemble all the remaining parts, grabbing some fireworks along the way, lining them up in his contraption. “I have created a far greater firework launcher, if this works we can create our own larger versions, and if they get launched with enough altitude, the massive blasts will not affect our sight or hearing! We will be able to appreciate the massive blasts by creating a safe distance!” He rambled with a giddy smile, showing Wrecker one of the fireworks from where he was standing.

Wrecker smiled genuinely, but dropped slightly as his gut twisted in discomfort. Something was wrong. “That sounds awesome, Tech. Let me take a look at it before you start pointing that around,” he chuckled, hoping to sound as casual as possible, placing his hand on his knee as he slowly stood up. Tech waved his hands, “No, no, no! I’ve got this!” He cheered, lining up a larger-than-normal firework into his device, he probably custom made it, too.

Wrecker’s stomach began to churn, his voice slipping to the big brother tone, “Tech, let me see it,” he said, beginning to walk over to his younger brother. Tech’s face dropped in disappointment, brows furrowing as he looked down at the creation, before flicking his eyes back to Wrecker. “Wait, Wrecker! I can show you- i-it works! I promise! Look!” Without thinking, Tech activated the device, the fuse being lit instantly as he stepped back to watch it fizzle and crack. Wrecker’s ears could pick up on the irregular sounds of the firework’s fuse burning away, not liking the way Tech’s device groaned and whined in an eerie way.

Wrecker’s pace increased, “Tech, get behind me will ya?” His voice was raised, outstretching his arm towards him with his palm open, “Now.” He could see Tech’s brain start to take everything in all at once, the upset expression on his face, and his hands desperately trying to shake out the tension that’s hit him instantly. The sounds of his experiment started to grow louder and more unstable, the modified firework on the verge of blasting off. “Wrecker- I promise! This one will work! I’ll be able to show you! I’ll—“

Wrecker’s body moved all by itself - barrelling himself towards Tech in one strong push of his heartbeat. The contraption reacted with the firework, the combination of the chemicals and elements combining in a dangerous combustion. Wrecker managed to move Tech before any shrapnel could reach him, shielding him from the blast by his hip, holding him with a bruising-tight grip. Wrecker’s adrenaline was kicked into overdrive, only feeling the pressure and heat from the explosion on the left side of his face and shoulder.

Tech was frozen underneath his brother’s hold, covering his ears while trying to control his breathing before a panic attack could ensue, his brain rattling with multiple thoughts and words whizzing through his head - almost screaming at himself. Time must have gone by because he could hear Wrecker’s laboured breaths, shakily turning his head to stare up at his elder brother. His eyes widened at the blood drops that splattered on his cheeks and goggles, unable to take a breath in at Wrecker’s marred flesh. “W-Wrecker..?”

Wrecker’s eyes were dark and lifeless, not even able to blink as his eyes would twitch up into his eyelids instead. The blast had charred and burned all of the left side of his head, the smell of his skin made bile rise up to Tech’s throat as he could see how the metal shrapnel must have sliced across his nose, eye brow and lips. Wrecker began rocking slightly, his laboured breaths slowing down as he stared down at his little brother. “What.. what’s with you…?” He grunted out, completely unaware to the extent of his injuries, only being able to focus on Tech’s horrified expression before his vision went completely black.

~

Had these written out and thought I’d share! Very early concept stages ofc, but I love playing with these ideas. After the blast, Wrecker’s ability with his previous interests had dropped significantly apart from his knowledge about weapons and demolitions - and I think after an explosion to the side of your head would alter your physical mental being, possibly keeping him at his juvenile state of mind as he grows up.

But yeah! 💫 if you read all of this, thank you so much! 🫶✨

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Gray Woman 4

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn’t help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You hand over the statement and send off the client with ‘have good day’. The recitation is lifeless, meaningless as it leaves your lips on habit alone. It’s all by rote. Greet them, figure out what they want, and get them out. 

Your next customer steps up as you take a chug of cold coffee. A glimmer of recognition flickers in your head and you squint at his reddened eyes. Oh, you know this man. Well, you’re aware of his existence. 

“Hello, sir, how can I help--” 

“Shut up,” he scowls. “You serious with the hello bullshit? Look at my eyes?” 

You blink and put your cup down, “did you try milk?” 

“Milk?! Milk? You fucking burnt my retinas out.” 

“Are you having issues with your sight--” 

“That’s not the fucking point. You—You remember me now, don’t you?” 

“You grabbed me. I reacted,” you shrug. “If you’re only here to yell at me, I’ll need to call security--” 

“Fuck security,” he steps up and his nose almost touches the glass. He snarls, “do you understand who I am? How many ways I can fuck you? Figuratively and literally?” 

You stare back at him dully. You deal with people yelling about their money every day. You’re desensitized to their threats. To their chagrin. Do they really think you care? That you have any sort of emotion tied to this job? It pays the bills. 

“Would you like to make a transaction today or--” You move your hand under the desk. 

“Don’t you fucking hit that button, sweet cheeks. I’m not going to do anything. Not here. You think I’m fucking stupid?” He growls as he jabs the glass between you. “No, I want you to see what the fuck you did and why I’m going to do worse to you.” He makes a fist and hits the barrier. “And you’re going to fucking remember me.” 

You keep your hand on the edge of the counter. You sit up and look around him, “I have other customers to help. Please step aside.” 

He scoffs and thumps on the glass again. “You’re a real fucking piece of work. You let this bullshit job go to your head? Why? Cause you can hit a few keys on a computer? Money’s still in my accounts, honey. You’re nothing. I could buy you a hundred times over and still have as much left.” 

You exhale and look at him as you wave up the next person in line, “unfortunately, it doesn’t appear that money can buy class.” 

He stomps as the waiting client hesitate, “you can come up. We’re done.” You beckon them again with your fingers then reach for your cup again. 

He looms as the woman comes up to your woman. He’s close enough that you feel your discomfort. You give him a look as take her card. 

“Sir, you need to go.” You warn him. 

He puffs and shakes his head. He tuts and paces back then toward you again. He stops as if he only then notices the woman watching him in horror. He throws up his hands then marches away. 

“Sorry, about that,” you say to the woman. You take her card and swipe it. 

“No, I’m sorry. Must be horrible to deal with that at work,” she replies as she touches her cheek and glances over her shoulder. 

“Money is very personal,” you utter. “How can I help you today?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” she assures. “I’m just adding a new payee to my account. I switched phone providers but their online portal isn’t working for me...” 

You nod and help her through the process. As promised, she’s quick. The rest of your day is not. You can’t help but check the clock repeatedly. It’s almost the weekend. So close yet so far away. 

As you get down from your chair at the end of your shift and grab your bag, Veronique approaches. You face her as you hitch up your purse. It’s unusual for her to come to you. Ever. She hides at her desk, more interested in her phone than her management role. 

“Before you go, I’d like a word.” 

You frown. This can’t be good. You rely on predictability. You could drown in it but it’s easier than change. Easier than the unexpected. 

“Sure,” you agree and follow her as she spins on her heel. 

You trail her strut into a back office. One of the executives is there. Gerald, you think? He doesn’t bother with you either. 

“Please, shut the door,” he greets you. You do as he says and Veronique perches herself behind his shoulder like a parrot. “Have a seat.” 

Wary, you cross the office and sit in the stiff seat. It squeaks as you stay on the edge. You cradle your bag in your lap. Veronique grins then wipes it away as she clears her throat. 

“You’ve worked here for more than ten years.” Gerald states. You confirm. “A long time. Must get dull.” 

“It’s work, sir,” you say. 

“You haven’t moved up much. Typically yearly raise but nothing extravagant,” he looks at his lit monitor. “You work for base pay. Not very much, yet you handle a lot of money, don’t you?” 

Your heart picks up. You can’t remember the last time you felt anything like this. That you were uncertain. Everything was always the same. Go to work, go home, sleep, wash, rinse, repeat. 

“Sir, I do my job and I do it by the book.” 

“Do you?” He tuts as he leans back and clicks around. “Because we’ve had some discrepancies brought to our attention. On a particular account. A client you’ve dealt with several times, and according to Veronique, you’ve had as many issues with.” 

You shake your head in confusion. 

“No, I don’t... no.” 

“He was here today. Mr. Hansen? We were just reviewing some footage from his last visits and his statements. There’s some really strange back and forths here.” 

You sit up even higher, “sir, no. It can’t-- I did exactly as he requested. All I did was ask for his ID.” 

“Veronique,” he looks up as his tone turns to disinterest. 

“We have the evidence. We’re submitting a report for investigation. You will be suspended. Beginning immediately.” 

Her lips curve again. Your chest turns to a pit and you puff out in disbelief. This can’t be. How could they have proof when you did nothing? 

“Security is waiting outside to escort you from the premises,” she continues with a catlike smirk. 

You look between her and Gerald. He’s already distracted by his phone. “How about the steak house, V?” He swivels to her. You’re dismissed by the back of his balding head. 

You get up and clutch your bag to your stomach. You turn and march to the door. As you exit, two uniformed men await you. They walk on either side of you, past other tellers and several managers. You’re mortified. 

How could this happen to you? You have a feeling Veronique is behind it but why? She ignores you, like everyone else. What could she possibly get out of this? 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

I Won't Say (I'm In Love) ~ Tony's Version

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST / MUSICAL INSPIRED FIC MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,215ish

Request: Won't Say from Hercules + Natasha is quite sure Tony and reader are in love with each other, but she's after more info so she can try and work out a plan to get them together. She's managed to get a confession out of Tony. Now she's trying to get her best friend to confess, maybe during a girl's night in movie night along with Wanda. But she's stubborn as fuck. But so is Nat, and she ain't ending this night without the info she wants!

Notes: I hope this makes sense... I'm a little worried especially since I steered away from the request a bit.

“If there’s a prize for rotten judgement

I guess I’ve already won that

No man is worth the aggravation

That’s ancient history, been there, done that”

You sighed as you came home from yet another failed date. Another man who cared more about you being a housewife than a working Avenger. You carried your shoes in your hand as you made your way to the common room of the Compound for a drink.

“You alright?” Tony’s voice had you jumping.

“Tony!” You exclaimed. He was sitting on the couch, nursing his own drink. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” he shot you a smile. “But seriously, you alright?”

“I’m fine. Just another failed attempt at dating.” You grabbed a beer from the fridge before plopping down next to Tony on the couch. “I’m beginning to think it’s not worth it anymore.”

“What? Dating?”

“Yeah. Searching for someone to spend your life with. They either are awful straight from the start or they hook you in and break your heart once you’re fully committed… I think I’ll stick to being single.”

“Not everyone is like that. You just have to find the right one.” Tony stood up. “Don’t drink too much of my liquor worrying about it.” He leaned down and kissed your head. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Tones.”

You sighed as Tony disappeared down the hall. You hated the reason behind your insistence on going on dates. Anthony Edward Stark. He was your type. Similar to guys you’ve dated before. Which is why you’d never admit to your feelings for him. You would just get hurt if you did. Tony wasn’t the type for a serious relationship, at least not anymore. He made that very clear since his and Pepper’s break up where he was back to sleeping around with any woman who looked at him a certain way. You couldn’t let yourself be one of them, knowing that you couldn’t keep your feelings in check.

~~~

Natasha woke up at her usual time to work out, surprised to see that Tony was already in the gym, a sweaty mess.

“Hard night?” She questioned, coming over to where the man was running on the treadmill.

“Something like that,” he grumbled, focusing on his running.

“Did Y/N go on another date last night?” Tony didn’t bother answering that question. “You know that there’s an easy solution to this. Just ask her out.”

“Natasha—“

“She’ll say yes.”

“You don’t know that.”

Natasha stepped onto the front of the treadmill to be face to face with the billionaire. “And if I find out it’s true, will you ask her out?”

“Maybe.”

“Great.” She jumped off the treadmill and headed for the door.

“Wait.” He paused the treadmill and jumped off it. “Where are you going?”

“To gather the evidence I need to stop you guys from being idiots any longer.”

“Who’d you think you’re kidding?

He’s the earth and heaven to you

Try to keep it hidden

Honey, we can see right through you (oh, no)

Girl, you can’t conceal it

We know how you feel and who you’re thinking of (oh)”

You were sitting on the couch in the common room, various teammates around. Vision was talking about something that you had stopped listening to some time ago. Your focus was on Tony. He was standing in the kitchen area, preparing a cup of coffee while talking to Bruce.

Natasha caught you staring and rolled her eyes. She tapped your arm, causing you to look her way, before she motioned to the hallway with her head. You knew that if she wanted to talk, there was no avoiding her. You followed her into one of the conference rooms down the hallway.

“What’s up?” You asked, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

Natasha leaned against the large glass conference table, arms folded over her chest. “Can you make it more obvious?”

“What are you talking about, Nat?”

“The fact that you’re head over heels in love with Tony.”

“No chance, no way

I won’t say it, no, no

You swoon, you sigh

Why deny it? Oh-oh

It’s too cliche (oh)

I won’t say I’m in love (shoo-doop, shoo-doop)

(Ooh)”

Your heart dropped at Natasha’s statement. “Wh—What? No, I’m not.”

“Oh, please,” she scoffed. “Your eyes were practically in the shape of hearts.”

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about, Nat. Tony is my friend. That is all.”

“You’re really going to try to lie to me?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Okay, I see how it is.” Natasha stood up and went to the door. “You know, keeping your feelings inside will only hurt you both more, right?”

“I’ve been hurt too many times, Nat. I can’t do it again. With anyone. No more dates for me. I’m good with being all by myself.”

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson (ooh)

It feel so good when you start out (ooh)

My head is screaming, ‘get a grip, girl!” (Ah)

Unless you’re dying to cry your heart out”

Clearly, your heart had not learned its lesson. Though you had been pushing your feelings down for Tony successfully for a while now, something happened since your talk with Natasha. You were acting like an idiot. Like some middle schooler who couldn’t talk to her crush and it was becoming a serious problem.

“Are you doing okay, Y/N?” Tony asked one day after you ruined something in his lab when he was helping fit you to a new suit. “Something’s been… off lately with you. I’m started to grow concerned.”

“I’m fine,” you said too quickly, unable to met his gaze. You internally cringed, wishing that you could just get a grip already.

“Cause that was believable.” He continued working. “You know that you can talk to me, right?”

“I know.” Just never about this, you thought. 

“You keep on denying (oh)

Who you are and how you’re feeling

Baby, we’re not buying

Hon, we saw you hit the ceiling (oh)

Face it like a grown-up

When you gonna own up that you got, got, got it bad? (Whoa)”

Just another one of these stupid gala’s that the Team was forced to attend. You were standing to the side of the room, eyes focused on your drink. You were dressed in something that Natasha had picked for you and immediately noticed that Tony was wearing a matching tie as soon as you got here. You were trying to avoid everything and everyone, too caught up in your own world, to notice someone coming up to you.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You jumped at Tony’s voice, despite it being one of your favorite things to hear. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Came to check on you. You okay?”

“Yeah,” you squeaked. “Fine.”

One of his brows rose as he looked at your unbelievingly. “Well, I think I have an idea to make it better.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the dance floor.

“Tony, no, I—“

“You need to relax.” 

Tony took your drink and set it on the nearby table before tugging you into the middle of the crowd of couples dancing. He readjusted the hand he was already holding so that it was better for dancing while his other hand came around your back and pulled you close to him. He began leading you in a small circle. His eyes were focused on you while you were trying to look anywhere else.

“You keep doing that,” he mumbled.

“What?” You questioned, still not looking at him.

“Avoiding me… why?”

“I— I’m not avoiding you.”

Tony scoffed. “Could’ve fooled me. You won’t even look at me.” Your eyes slowly met his deep brown ones. A small smile formed across his face. “There they are… I’ve missed those beautiful eyes.”

Your heart was hammering against your chest as your face heated up at his words. You had to force yourself not to look away.

“We used to talk about everything,” Tony admitted quietly. “But you’ve been pulling away.”

“Just a lot going on,” you muttered. “Been pulled on a lot of different missions.”

“That’s not it and you know it… Is it… are you… is there some you’re seeing? Did a date workout?”

“No,” you quickly shook your head. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“I just mean that good that no one’s hurting you. That— That’s it.”

The Team watched as you and Tony continued to dance and chat.

“She’s clearly in love with him,” Natasha commented. “Why can’t she see how in love with her Tony is?”

“Stop meddling, Nat,” Steve reprimanded. “Let things happen when they happen.”

“Says the man who waited too long.”

“Hey! That was low.”

“But true,” Bucky commented.

“There has to be a way that we can get them together,” continued Nat. “And I will be making it happen. Just watch.”

“No chance, no way

I won’t say it, no, no

Give up, give in

Check the grin, you’re in love

This scene won’t play

I won’t say I’m in love (you’re doing flips)

(Read our lips, you’re in love)”

Tony and you were in the lab. He had requested your help with one of his suits. The suit just shot him across the lab and you couldn’t help but burst into a fit of laughter.

“Tony!” You laughed. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” he groaned, sitting up.

You rushed over and reached out a hand. Tony grabbed your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself up, he pulled you down. You squealed as you landed on Tony. He laughed, securing you to him. You froze as you realized how close your faces were. Tony’s laughter died down too as his eyes flickered to your lips. You shivered as his hand slipped up your body to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing against your skin.

“I…” you breathed out, mind reeling. “I got to go.”

You quickly pushed yourself off of Tony and rushed out of the room. Tony sighed, putting his hands over his eyes and he got angry with himself.

“You’re way off base

I won’t say it (she won’t say it loud)

Get off my case (sha-la)

I won’t say it (ooh)

Girl, don’t be proud

It’s okay, you’re in love”

You had been completely avoiding Tony since the incident in the lab and everyone, especially Tony, can tell. 

“Leave me alone, Nat!” You yelled as she tried to convince you to talk to Tony for what felt like the millionth time that day. “Seriously!”

“You are doing more harm than good at this point, Y/N!” She replied, not giving up. “Just be honest with yourself and Tony. You both deserve better than this.”

“Please, leave me be, Nat!”

“It’s okay to feel this way! It’s normal to be in love and to be scared. Tony’s scared too.”

“You don’t know what you’re taking about.”

Natasha sighed, knowing that you weren’t going to back down so it was time for her plan B to be put into place. She got a tranquilizer gun from her boot and shot you in the back. You gasped, falling forward and passing out quickly. She shook her head as she grabbed your body and began dragging you away.

~~~

You woke up with a groan. Looking around, you realized that you were laying on a table in one of the conference rooms. Tony was on the other end, sitting in one of the chairs.

“What’s—“ You cut yourself up to clear your throat as you sat up. “What’s going on?”

“Romanoff,” Tony answered. “She locked us in here and isn’t going to let us out unless…”

“Unless?”

Tony sighed, lifting his head to look at you. “Unless we confess our feelings.”

“No,” you immediately said, shaking your head. You scrambled off the table and onto your feet. “She can’t do this.”

Tony stood up and slowly began coming over to you. “Why? Why can’t she?”

“Because… Because… I… She just can’t.”

“Is it because you don’t feel the way she thinks you do or is it because you do?”

“Tony… I can’t… I won’t say anything… I can’t get hurt again.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you, sweetheart… Never.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“But I can show it. If you’d let me.”

“Tony… I…” Your heart was screaming at you to just tell him that you loved him, but your mind was winning. “I… I’m sorry… I can’t say it. I can’t. I… I care too much… I have to protect myself. I have to—“

Tony grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His lips attached to yours in a swift motion, catching you off guard.

“Oh

At least out loud

I won’t say I’m in love

(Shoo-doop, shoo-doop, shoo-doop, shoo-doop)

(Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ah)”

Tony guided you through the tender kiss, his hands holding your face close to his. You allowed yourself to relax and melt into him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered against your lips when he finally broke the kiss. “I love you, too. And I will do whatever I can to show you every day.” His lips pecked yours. “Every damn day. I love you.”

“And if I won’t say it back just yet?” you nervously questioned.

“You don’t ever have to say it, if you’re not ready. But I’ll still be here. I promise.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Project Insight

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: on the run, angst

Summary: You’re on the run, never staying in one place for too long. If only you could get to the train, you’d be able to escape without the fear that they’d be after you. However, luck isn’t on your side and you’re caught before you can taste freedom. Now, you must face your past and deal with the consequences of your actions.

Square Filled: Pseudo-villain (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You lean down and splash water on your face for the third time. No amount will ever clean the dirt you’ve had on your skin for decades. The bathroom light is dim and flickering on and off and there are only two stalls, both of which are empty.

“All I have to do is get on the train and I’ll be free. I’ll be able to get off somewhere far away, and they won’t be able to find me.”

It’s easier said than done. You know they’re here. They’ve been tracking you ever since Hydra made it clear that you were their target. The train is on the other side of the station but you think you can do it. If you miss the train, you’re fucked. Since you are on the run, you don’t have time as a luxury. So, whatever you can grab on the go is what you usually wear. There was a swap meet a few months ago that you passed through, and you were able to grab a handful of clothes.

The gray baseball cap, the black yoga jacket, the short skirt, and the black pantyhose look suspicious, but you need to blend into the crowd. You look at your watch and realize in fifteen minutes, your train leaves. You pull the baseball cap down further and leave the bathroom, anxious about what might be waiting for you outside of it.

The station is crowded with people just trying to get on with their lives. German people don’t rush, but there is an overabundance of people here which makes it seem like they are. The train is on the other side of the platform and if you can just get there, you’ll have access to thirty-three countries in Europe. They won’t be able to find you.

You look around you but no one is paying you any attention. Maybe they aren’t here. You’re not going to stick around to find out. You start walking normally so as not to attract attention to yourself, but you keep looking around you for people who might be looking for you. You make it to the stairs when you see them.

Steve and Sam.

Steve scans the area but he hasn’t seen you yet, and Sam isn’t looking in your direction. You have to play this smart. You’ve dodged Steve before, you can do it again. You turn away from Steve and slowly make your way down the stone stairs. You notice a familiar head of red hair and pause.

Wanda is sitting by herself outside a small cafe sipping coffee. She’s much trickier to dodge because of her mind powers. If you panic, she’ll sense you. You take three deep breaths and continue walking down the stairs as if nothing is going on. Laughter comes from the right of the stairs, and you notice a group of girls together who will definitely walk past Wanda. If you can blend in with them, you might be able to sneak past Wanda.

You speed walk down the stairs and join the group before they reach Wanda. You join in on their laughter and walk past Wanda. You don’t have to look back to know she’s still sitting there sipping her coffee. If she noticed you, you’d be dead right now or at least captured. Ten minutes until the train leaves, and you’re a third of the way to the train.

From the sunglasses kiosk, Natasha watches you break off from the group of girls.

“I found her. Gray hat, black jacket, skirt, and black tights.”

Steve, Sam, and Wanda zero in on you. You haven’t noticed them yet. If you do, you might run which would make this more complicated.

“No sudden movements. Too many civilians,” Steve says. “We need to do this quickly and quietly. No magic, Wanda. Not until we get to her.”

“Got it,” she says.

You look up to check on Sam and Steve when you lock eyes with Steve. Shit, they found you. Eight minutes until the train takes off. You notice a bar on the strip with rowdy boys who are watching a game. To the right of them is a clothing store. You immediately shed your jacket and throw it in the nearest trash can. You rush into the store and remove your hat to reveal your dyed hair. They know you to have blonde hair but you’ve gone much darker.

You walk past a rack of skirts and grab a white one. You unzip it and wrap it around your waist before securing it tightly. You pause by a bench and rip your tights off to expose your legs. You remove your other skirt and toss both materials in the trash can. You leave the store through a different door, making sure to grab a green button-down. You put the shirt on and tie the ends around your mid-section to make it cropped.

You steal some sunglasses on your way out to hide your face as best as possible. You pass through the rowdy boys and cheer along with them. You notice Natasha and Wanda walking into the store together while Steve and Sam are still up top looking for you.

You’re back in the clear.

The train leaves in four minutes. Once you feel it’s safe to do so, you part ways from the boys and head down to the tracks. Two yards away now, and you smile thinking you’ve made it. All you have to do is get on and you’re free. You take one more step toward the train when you feel it on your back.

All the hairs on the back of your neck stand when you feel the cool metal of a gun at your back. A metal hand grips your shoulder, lips press against your ear, and you don’t have to look back to know who it is.

“You hurt my feelings when you ran.” Your bottom lip trembles at hearing Bucky’s voice after all these years. “You’re trapped. Come with me and this won’t get ugly. I’d hate to scare these innocent people with a gun.”

Shit.

You have no choice but to go with Bucky. He takes you to the local police station where they place you in an interrogation room without the cuffs. You’re a normal human without superpowers. What can you do to those with powers? The door opens ten minutes later and Steve walks in alone. You sigh and look away from him, and he takes a seat across from you.

“You’re a hard woman to track down.” You don’t respond. “Why did you run?” Again, you keep your mouth shut. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me, Y/N.” Nothing. “You were last seen escaping Hydra and going on the run. I hear you stole something. What was it?”

You look at him but don’t say a word. Steve sighs and leaves the room knowing he isn’t going to get anything out of you. You’re not alone for long because Fury joins you not long after Steve leaves with files in his hands.

“I’m not going to be as nice as Steve, so just tell me what I need to know.”

“I can’t,” you sigh.

“Why not?”

You look at him with pleading eyes. “I just can’t.”

He pulls out the first file in the stack and sets it next to the pile. “I know you stole something from them. The answer is in these files. Let’s go over them, shall we?”

“You’re wasting your time, Fury.”

He opens the first one. “Operation Paperclip. That can’t be it. Nazi scientists came to America looking for work, and the government pardoned them regardless of what they did to WWII. That was way before your time, though.” He opens the second one. “The Centipede Project. The super soldier program. Again, way before your time.” He opens the third file. “The Winter Soldier program. That’s where you met Bucky, right? You were one of his doctors.”

You look at the two-way mirror knowing there is someone on the other side watching. You’re just not sure if Bucky is watching or not.

“Is there a point to this?”

“Hey, I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

“I’m not telling you anything. Just throw me in a cell or whatever you had planned for me.”

“I touched a nerve with him, didn’t I? Let’s keep going.” He opens the next file. “Project Insight.” Your jaw ticks and your brow twitches, all of which Fury notices. “Do you know anything about that?” You bounce your leg nervously but you try to keep it hidden, and he opens another file. “Project Distant Star.”

“That was a failed project from the beginning.” You relax in your seat. “They never got far outside of Earth.”

“Give me something to work with, Y/N.” You look away and refuse to say anything. “Have fun in solitude.”

Fury leaves the room and looks at Steve who stands on the other side of the glass. The both of them walk into a conference room where Bucky, Natasha, Wanda, Tony, and Vision are.

“She won’t talk,” Bucky says.

“She doesn’t have to.” Fury puts a file down on the table. “Project Insight. Did you notice her body language when I mentioned it?”

“Yeah, she was nervous.”

“Project Insight was the only one that got her to react that way. I’m betting that she got her grubby hands on it, and now Hydra wants it back. All we have to do is find out what it is and why she took it.”

Not to your surprise, you’re taken back to Washington DC only to be locked up in solitude. They’re not treating you like a prisoner otherwise you’d have handcuffs on you, but they’re not letting you roam freely either. You pace the length of your cell because your mind is racing at the thought of what Fury is going to do when he realizes what you’re after. You look up and notice someone’s reflection in the glass wall of your cell.

“Bucky…”

It’s been so long since you’ve uttered his name. Your heart squeezes painfully but you try to ignore the pang.

“It’s been a long time,” he says.

“Yes, it has.”

He sighs and looks down. “I don’t like seeing you locked up in here. Not after…”

He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he’s talking about. He was captured in the 1940s, but the real experimentation didn’t happen until the 90s when they took in multiple people for the Winter Soldier program. By then, Bucky was already established as Hydra’s property, and he was tasked to train the others.

That’s where you came in. You were hired on as a doctor because of your PhD in medicine with the intention to play doctor to the newcomers. However, you and Bucky immediately clicked and he became your primary patient. They hired another doctor to take your place with the other soldiers so that you can focus on Bucky the entire time.

The times when the real Bucky came out, you were there to take care of him and coax him back down from the many panic attacks he suffered. Your feelings for him grew so much that you’d intentionally keep him from the experiments just to keep him from being in pain.

“What do you want, Bucky?”

It hurts to speak to him with such a cold voice because even after all this time, you’re still so much in love with him. You fled to protect him, but the last thing you’re going to do is tell him about it and get him involved.

“I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself. What is Project Insight?”

You look at him with a hard look. “Stay out of it, Bucky.”

“Just tell me what it is, and they’ll let you go.” You start to pace the room. “You’re panicking, Y/N. I know you better than you know yourself.”

You walk over to the glass wall that separates you and Bucky, and you slam your hands against it angrily.

“I told you to stay out of it. Please. If you know me like you say you do, you’ll do this for me. Stay out of it.”

Bucky reaches up and puts his hand over the spot where yours is. “Why are you so afraid?” You shake your head and go back to pacing the room. “I used to think the world of you and now… I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you feel safe like you made me feel safe.”

The second he leaves, you collapse on your bed in tears. This isn’t how this is supposed to go. The only place they’re keeping information on Project Insight is on one of SHIELD’s ships in the middle of the ocean. Natasha and Steve are tasked with getting that information for Fury, and now that he has it in his hands, he’s floored at what he reads.

Project Insight is more than just a way for the government to keep tabs on threats. It’s Hydra. They’ve infiltrated SHIELD and have been since the attack on New York with Loki. Project Insight are three helicarriers that they will launch into the sky, which they will then use to wipe out any potential threats to Hydra. Anyone who opposes them will die, and they won’t even see it coming.

With them, they can wipe out millions of people with a push of a button. You stole their plans to build them, but that only set them back a few months. You’re one of the biggest threats to Hydra right now which is why they’re hunting you. Rumors about Project Insight were going around the compound you worked at a decade ago, but you didn’t think they would be stupid enough to build something like that. Only a few years ago were those rumors turned into truth.

Hydra has always wanted this planet to become totalitarian, and Project Insight was their way to do that. You couldn’t sit by and watch it happen so you planned on taking their plans and fleeing. However, you were caught and they threatened everyone you love and care about starting with your friends and ending with Bucky. He was still under their control, and they promised they’d make it hurt if you continued with what you were planning.

The next time you stole, you made sure not to get caught. You were going to flee Germany when you were caught by the Avengers. If they don’t know it was you, they will soon, and Bucky will suffer for it.

Days turn to weeks which then turn to months with you stuck in confinement. They provide you with three meals a day and a bathroom inside your cell, but you’re alone otherwise. Bucky hasn’t come to see you since that first day, and you wonder if he hates you for what you did. You pass the time either sleeping, pacing the cell, or reading whatever book they put with your lunch.

You’re lying on the bed with your arm over your eyes when your cell door opens. You sit up and lock eyes with Bucky. He walks in but doesn’t close the cell door behind him.

“You’re free to go.”

You stand in surprise. “What?”

“We don’t need you anymore.”

“What did you do?” you whisper in fear. “I told you to stay out of it.”

“It doesn’t matter what I did or didn’t do. There is nothing left for you to fear. Project Insight is no more. You’re done here.” You could leave and start a new life somewhere else but you don’t move a muscle. Bucky grabs your shoulders and shakes you gently. “Are you listening to me? Go. Flee. Run. It’s what you’re good at.”

You look into his eyes which have a pool of tears in them. “Bucky…”

“I have survived without you then, and I’ll survive without you now so just go.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“Why? Why did you run in the first place? I… They hurt me after you left.”

The dam breaks and tears roll down your cheeks. “I ran to protect you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“They caught me once and they threatened to kill you. I couldn’t let them go through with Project Insight, so I took their information and ran. They wanted to make you suffer at my expense, and they wanted me to see you hurt. I knew if I ran, they’d be focused on me instead of you. I knew you’d get out and I knew Steve would keep you safe. I’m sorry for hurting you, but I’m not sorry for running.” You cup his cheeks and wipe his tears with your thumb. “You were and are the most important person in my life.”

Bucky moves his hands down to your waist and kisses you. It’s been decades since you’ve felt his lips on yours. They still feel as safe as they did when you first shared a kiss.

“Don’t run now,” Bucky whispers when he pulls away.

“Hydra isn’t over. You might have ruined their plans but they have hundreds more. They’ll come for me… They’ll come for you.”

“They can try. We’re stronger now.” He leans in and kisses you again, this time softer. “Let it be my turn to protect you.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

You trust Bucky with your life, and it’s time you start fighting for what you love.

x

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[rikiislvr]

unavailable . 4 - nishimura riki

pairing: afab!reader x nishimura riki

summary: fresh out a relationship with a heavy heart, niki seeks comfort in his best friend, not knowing you were falling for him

warnings: cussing

ps. read part 1-3 (on my page) if you’d like :)

after he left, you decided to leave too. you couldn’t go home since you were ditching, so you decided to stop by a nearby convenience store to get snacks.

before you could even step a foot inside the store, you were stopped at the sight of niki and ivy, standing in front of each other on the sidewalk, talking but you were too far away to hear what it was about.

you hid behind the side of the store, watching from pure curiosity, but.. whatever they were talking about, led to niki leaning down and pressing a kiss on her forehead, ivy smiled up at him and giggled before grabbing his hand as they ran down the street together.

you weren’t sure why your heart began to ache. maybe it was a good.. reasoning on why they’re.. happy together again?

you brush it off and slowly walked into the store to grab something to snack on until you can go home. but you couldn’t stop wondering.. what was that about? and was he gonna tell you?

-

the next day you walk into school, you don’t see niki in his usual spot, beside your locker waiting for you, you sigh and open your locker, being jolted from tickling hands on your sides,

you turn around to be faced with niki, “did i scare you?” he teases, you didn’t reply and turned back to your locker, “uh yeah..” you nod slowly, he tilt his head “you okay?” he asks, you close your locker and sigh,

“mhm!” you shot a fake smile before walking away, niki followed you, “you’re acting odd, what’s wrong?” he grabbed your shoulder making you stop, you look up at him and sigh,

“you’re back with ivy?” you say, his face dropped softly, “right um… yeah- i am.” he ran his fingers through his hair, you just blinked up at him, needing more of an answer.

“she’s in a really bad place and, i just feel really bad, she needs someone to rely on, you know?” he explained, you didn’t really understand it, but as his best friend, you have to be supportive…

“okay..” you shrug it off, “you understand right?” he says, you just nod before walking to your class, niki watched you and sighed, rubbing his neck.

he knew it was the bad decision getting back with ivy, but when he found her crying yesterday after he left the park over some of her family issues, he couldn’t deny the fact he still had care for her, he just didn’t want you to think he was overlooking how much you’ve helped him.

because you did help him a lot the night she broke up with him, but he couldn’t lie he wanted to be with her again, so he didn’t take up the opportunity.

he just hoped you’d understand somehow..

-

you’ve had the craziest headache all day in class, you finally got the last bell of the day and left the classroom immediately, all the work + the thoughts of niki being back with ivy was taking over your head.

why did you even care so much? it wasn’t your relationship or your business so who cares? why was this taking such a big toll on you?

you sigh and walked out the school with your head down,

“y/n!” you heard someone call you from behind, you turn around, seeing ivy, who was holding hands with niki, she smiled and motioned for you to come over..

what did she possibly want from you?

you groan and walked over, putting on a fake smile, “me and niki are gonna go get sushi, wanna come with?” she smiled at you, you turn to niki, who was looking at you, you could sense the guilt in his expression, “sure.” you shrug,

ivy giggled and grabbed your arm with her free hand as she pulled you guys to walk to the nearby sushi restaurant.

as you three walked, ivy rambled about her day, you look up past her to see niki, who was smiling at every word ivy said,

you felt very uncomfortable.. gosh, why did you even say yes? you just felt like a third wheel right now. why would ivy invite you in the first place?

you get to the restaurant and walked in, you guys sat in a booth, niki next to ivy, and you across from them, you tap the table awkwardly and looked out the window, ivy must’ve noticed your awkwardness and tapped your arm,

“so, where’s your boyfriend?” she asks, you clear your throat. “i don’t have one.” you nod, she gasps, “oh that’s a bummer! you’re pretty.” she shrugged, “thanks.” you nod, for some reason this was throwing you off…

you turn to look at niki, who looked just as awkward as you did, you sigh, “you know, i can get you a boyfriend.” ivy smiled, you tilt your head,

“yeah! my friend jake, he’s single, you two would be a power couple.” she giggled, “i don’t think i-

“oh come on! you can’t hangout with my boyfriend all the time, i know you two are best friends but like..” she smirked and grabbed onto niki’s arm, niki looked at you before looking down.

you then realized what this was, ivy only invited you to tell you to back off of him.

fuck this.

“yeah i’m gonna head home, thanks for inviting me.” you stood up and quickly left, niki so badly wanted to chase after you, but due to him being in the inside of the seat, he was trapped,

ivy scoffed, “she’s weird.” she shrugged and began eating the sushi, niki sighed.

you walked home with your head down, she was right. you can’t hangout with niki all the time anymore. he’s your best friend but you can’t deny you’ve been catching feelings for him.

and it’s wrong. he’s not available for you. only thing you can do now was to avoid him at all costs, if you’re not with him, you can’t gain feelings…

right?

a/n: didn’t expect for so many people to want me to continue this but hey! should i end it here or continueee orrr, lmk!

taglist : @certified-ni-ki-lover @noblub-4ulolz @yourmyst4r @vixialuvs @ni-ki-ismyluv @judeduartewannabe @soobs-things @en-chantedtomeetyou @definitelynotherr @heyniki @wntersm @geniejunn @pkjay @baevsxii @k1ttylvr @geniejunn @pkjay @chaevibes @jiyeons-closet @rii7eis7

[secretress]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬, “𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐬𝐰𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠,” 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲.❞

How can you move on? (Detailed)

Masterlist.

Author's note,

I would appreciate if everyone read this → Boundaries.

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I.

There is a pretty fountain with fishes that have been swimming around the same river the fountain is located in. Their main goal is to take care of the fountain, as the fountain protects the fishes. An eagle has decided to come down and find something to eat, only to be met with emptiness. It looks confused and checks each spot it could think of, only to come up empty-handed once more. Confusion deepens further, so it decides to go into the water to find a fish to eat only to get caught and drown. Unfortunately through it’s demise, it sees a fish swim past and circles the fountain to give itself protection from the eagle. This momentum causes a whirlwind and makes the eagle drown further to the bottom tangled by the unwanted junk and dangerous marine animals that circles it as it did with the fish. As it tries to untangle itself, the same marine animals starts to tear the eagle’s body and consume its flesh. The eagle’s pain is unknown as it’s remains drips deeper in the ground blending in with the depths of the river.

A fountain can sometimes appear mediocre, something that you always see around your neighborhood, or where you meet someone. You usually don’t expect anything to happen since it has the same routine or same face. But each time you visit it or them, you learn new things about it or them and realize there is more that meets the eye. But the problem is, you struggle to accept that you are the eagle that drowned. Sure, you check different outlets and perspectives on solving an issue that cannot be fixed. But each time you think you have solved something, you make things worse. And each time you have given up, you made things worse. So what's the point? Anything that you do always ends up failing.

It is not what ends up failing—it is your outlook on life. You always seek new experiences, you always want something fun, and when you do get it, you push it away and want something else. Each time you manifest something, you get bored of it, but when you are in the process of having it come to you—you are excited. You are so restless that the idea of chasing something is much more appealing than appreciating your ability to manifest (even if you don't believe in it. You can think of it having things that are meant for you coming your way) and being happy with what you have. Some of you like the chase, like an eagle would with a fish, and others crave to have that connection the fish and fountain have. But none of you have learned to appreciate anything.

Learn to appreciate what you have and the power you have. You can bring things into your world faster than most people can. Which can be a blessing and a curse. Your curse is set in stone if you keep being restless, and if you learn how to move on from the adrenaline of a chase and settle down, you can have that blessing that you so crave.

Masterlist

Pile II.

It’s not that you have to move on, but you need to understand what has happened. A lot of you went through something very traumatic, and it has affected your mindset. Changing your mindset has been a struggle. Before, it was easy and you were naturally drawn to a positive and healthy mindset. But after what you have gone through, being a “good” person sounds like ass. What’s the point of being a good person if people are going to treat you like shit each time you give them love? What’s the point of doing anything sweet if they use you like a toy and give you nothing in return? What’s the point of doing anything remotely nice if people want you to chase them? Chasing people has started to become natural to you. Not because it is fun, or something you want to do, but.. from fear, it has become your natural state, and losing that was hard until this situation appeared. A part of you is grateful for it, but another part of you is furious.

You are allowed to feel both. Appreciate that you have come to terms with who you want to be and what boundaries you want to set. What people you want to distance yourself from and learning who is toxic and who isn’t. Understanding that you do not have to change yourself for others to like you and that it is okay to change your outcome to have a better friendship with God/the universe/life/etc., and yourself. But feel angry for those that wronged you when you were an angel to them. You are allowed to feel angry, it is not a crime, nor could it be. You are allowed to feel rage but do not allow it to consume you where you lose yourself and become like them. Doing that disrespects yourself—is that what you want? To be like them and do it to yourself .. again?

You have done this a few times and then gaslighted yourself that you haven’t. Some of you are trying to fix that relationship, and the rest of you can’t seem to tell the difference. And because of this, it is hard for you to feel anger or allow yourself to. You assume what they have done is actually okay—or subconsciously you think it is okay and that you deserve that. However, that is not the case and they were a dick. Such confusing energy on their part, very tricky, similar to a trickster.

I think a lot of you have contemplated if what they did was okay, like really okay. Because you have done it in the past with some people and believe that (or karma) is coming back to you from your past lives, and if not, what you think you deserve. And though I am not the victim you caused this to, nor can I speak about it, all I can say is that you need to understand something.

You have to understand that you cannot change your past. You can move on. You cannot change the outcome and stay in the past making new scenarios because your present will not change. You have to move on. You can’t say sorry to them because they are not looking for a sorry, they are looking for actual change. You can’t ask for closure from them because you need to move on. You cannot stay stagnant, that is not change. Change starts within, it starts with wanting to change. To think about changing is the first step. You are at it, but you keep going backwards; you need to move forward. How can you expect change going backwards? It does not work that way and if it did, well, science is not real then.

Some of you are wondering how you can move forward and it is simple. Want it. That’s it. Genuinely want to move forward. Do not force yourself. Some of you have forced yourself, and end up in the same place each time. Learn from that lesson and utilize it right now. For example, let’s say I am stuck in your position, what should I do? From everything I have said, what do you think I should say? Should I force myself? Should I move forward but then go back to the past and “visualize” that it can be changed? Should I ignore the lessons I have learned from my mistakes and try to change? Maybe I should forgive myself and give myself closure instead? Maybe I should realized the people I met were the same as my family, and I normalized the trauma they gave me and gave it to others to feel better about myself and to see them hurting like I did because no one helped me? Which one do you think I should do? Do you know it? I think you do, but you are scared to accept the thought. It’s okay to be scared. It’s normal. But do you really want to keep living like this, or perhaps it’s better to move forward this time?

Masterlist

Pile III.

Trigger warning: slight mentions of sexual assault, murder, suicide, and rape.

Sometimes we assume if we follow our inner voice, it may help us. That it may be the one that pulls us out of the pain we created, the pain that was caused from the lies we spoke. But no one really thinks about why we said that supposed lie, why it led us that far, and why we had to blurt it out. No one ever forgives that one lie, because once you made a lie, that’s it. “I hate liars! They are worse than cheaters!!! Stop lying! Stop doing, stop doing that!” But why are liars worse than cheaters when a small lie could save someone or yourself. Or when a small lie can boost your confidence, as they say ‘’fake it till you make it?’’

The environment where you grew up has taught you that lying is a huge sin and when you do lie, it should not be forgiven. As it is similar to horrendous crimes like rape and murder. Even kidnapping a child. But why is that? Lies are not always such a bad thing. It can save your life, or perhaps.. end it.

When you were a child, your mother, and if not, a close woman figure, told you that angels watched over you, that they came down and protected you. And later in your life, you realized it was all lies until you met the person. Saying the person's name has triggered you tremendously, and trying to heal from it has made you go crazy. But the idea of moving on from them excites and scares you. And now, you don't know which one you should do? Move on and have that fear linger within your heart when you find someone better who won’t cheat or sexually assault you. Or allow the painful memories and thoughts make you go mad and get excited going crazy. The whole concept of being sick in the head blooms you with excitement since people will finally start to care. But.. what about yourself? Have you started to care for yourself, or do you really need others’ validation.. for your trauma…?

A white lie, a white lie, a.. A… a? A rabbit has come up to you and asked you to follow them down the deepest, darkest depths of a black hole. Similar to Alice in Wonderland, yet this hole will lead you to the darkest parts of your mind. Will you enter that hole and learn all about yourself, even the damaged broken parts that you have hidden, out of disgust, and finally heal? Or will you not follow that rabbit and stay where you are? Those who decide to stay, why is that? You need to ask yourself all of these questions. Those who are going into that hole, the next paragraph is the last paragraph for you. And the rest is for those that stay.

When the rabbit came to you, it knew in your heart that you wanted to heal. That it was okay for you to take a leap of faith and find your new home just as Alice did. That white rabbit is a symbol for you when you were a kid. Some of you adored and found comfort in the movie or book, and some of you hated the Red Queen yet hid from the idea that your “mother” or that woman whom you were close to resembled her. Lies, lies, lies. These are your inner thoughts right now, or as a kid when you thought the same. Stop lying to yourself and accept it as it is. You are the one who makes the angels, you can make the angels anything you so desire. You can even make it your comfort characters, your favorite stories, favorite tv shows, and so forth. But you need to stop seeking that so called person’s validation because they will never give it to you nor will that mother or woman figure. And some of you that visit their grave or think about it, you will never get it so stop seeking it. Start to seek it from yourself. You have decent family members that care, don’t seek it from them, but finally learn to appreciate their compliments and love they give to you—it’s genuine.

Those that stayed.. understand this. If you do not heal, if you do not go down that hole, if you do not learn to appreciate yourself, if you do not learn to move on, if you don’t do anything for your greater good, you will kill yourself both mentally and physically from how crazy you go from the pain. Going crazy, or being sick in the head, is not fun, nor is it cute. It is not something you see in fiction, it is not something you will enjoy; those thoughts will consume you to the point where you will go mad and start harming yourself and others. The image of the joker came through, and the laughing Batman and both of them fit well. And some of you find them cool or have desired to be like them, but it is truly something you do not want. Do you honestly want to be stuck in a mental hospital or jail cell for that person’s validation? You are going to go that crazy for them, seriously? What do you honestly gain from that? Because it’s not cute, it’s fucking stupid. Absolutely and utterly stupid. Is being stupid something you desire? To ruin your life so badly for that type of kick? Yeah, some of you think I am being harsh, but the reality is, sometimes you have to be blunt so someone understands what they are going to do is insane and completely messed up for themselves and others. So, get mad at me as much as you want, because at the end of the day, you are going to ruin yourself and others just to fit the whole twisted idea of crazy. And that’s fucking stupid.

Masterlist

Pile IV.

A twist, a turn, an applause. The crowd goes wild, people clap quite elegantly for the ballerina’s dance, yet her smile is fabricated from the pain of her peers. She may have gotten all the praise because she was more decent and well-equipped than her peers. She may have gotten the standing ovation because she herself was the last performance. She may have gotten the approval of the audience, but never her peers. Why is that? Why do they talk behind her back when they aren’t up to her expertise? Why does anyone ever make fun of someone else?

As the curtain closes, she sheds a tear that stains the wooden floor and yet, no warmth was given to her performance with those whom she worked with. After all, she was a toy in their music box and she would dance forever as long as you turned the box for music.

Why are you the ballerina in the music box?

The music will always play in the background. The voices and whispers are always going to be in the background. The rumors are always going to spread—especially when others say you're sleeping with the director or music composer for your role that you “magically got.” People are always going to laugh at you no matter what you do; people are always going to try to touch you when you hate it—so what is keeping you from doing this when you know what mental toll it has on you? To finally get your dream, but is that dream truly worth your mental health? Have you ever read The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe? I’ll keep the spoiling to a limit, but the man in the story lost his wife, and a raven comes by to the man to keep him company. Some say this raven is the devil taking him to the afterlife. Some say the raven is a ghost and trying to befriend him but fails; some say it’s actually tricking the man. And I believe it’s his subconscious mind trying to guide him to move on and learn to become happy, but he cannot handle that and assumes it is out to get him thus causing him to go mad. But each theory comes down to someone’s experience, who they are, and how they handle this world. And the way you are handling the music box is similar to the man. And those rumors, whispers, and laughter are the memories that have haunted this man about his wife—his need to hold on to something that doesn’t mean well. And though, it gives him motivation to keep moving forward with waking up and eating.. It never has truly helped him find peace in his life and mind. And peace is something you need and deserve. If I were to go deeper into this pile, you would never learn how to heal and move on. You will never listen to my words as you would with how you speak to yourself.

You are someone who will hear someone out, but you won’t take their word to heart. And don’t take mine to heart either. Just use it as a guide to help yourself move away from this academy, school/college environment, or job and find people who genuinely care for you. Because that is something you will always deserve, and I hope to see that.. Even if I can never truly see it. But then again, when the ballerina dances in her music box, you don’t actually get to see her performance. You only get to see her spin and her music play. And that song makes up a truly wonderful performance that draws our mind to recreate a magical experience within our mind to enjoy with her. And that is truly the beauty of it.

Masterlist