#I would actually tell the stupid bad habit to and that’s only if it came up in like venting or if they asked for some reason

[deityofhearts]

also I’ve been like, not falling into a specific bad habit of mine and I’m very proud because I often get the urge to do so and then have to like remind myself no it’s not healthy and good to do and to stop it

[luveline]

carmy! i have a request, it’s so basic but everything you write is golden. him and r are pining coworkers, and maybe someone else yells at her or upsets her or whatever and he’s like but i’m the only one allowed to shout at you and he hugs her (because you know… arms 👀)

—Carmy tries to make you feel better after a customer upsets you. fem, 1.5k 

“Fucking asshole,” Richie mutters as the door swings closed. 

Carmy would cringe if he had the energy, or a lack of self-awareness —it’s not as though he doesn’t swear like a starved sailor every other sentence. 

“Who’s the asshole?” he asks, feeling down his side for the bump of a box of cigarettes he doesn’t find. 

He’s taken to hiding them in the office. He’d love to pretend it was an act of lent, but in actuality, he never told Ritchie that the box of cigarettes left near the burner, that gave them their C-army rating, wasn’t Richie’s at all, but Carmy’s. He isn’t ever planning on having that conversation, so he’s trying not to carry a box around and leave it somewhere stupid again. 

“Fucking– you didn’t just hear that guy?” Richie asks, scowling. 

Carmy scowls back. “Yeah, that’s why I’m asking. What the fuck do you think?” 

It’s slightly too much aggression off the cuff, but Richie brings it out of him. “Some asshole just came in here and started shouting like a motherfucker because he forgot his stupid napkins. I thought Sunshine was gonna cry her eyes out.” 

Carmy clocks back in fully. “What?” 

Sunshine is the mildly sarcastic nickname Richie gave you before Carmy ever step foot in The Beef. It’s not that you’re moody, but you’re always tired, and you give these little shy smiles out to anyone who asks how you are. I’m fine, you say every time, followed by something deflective like, I’m just tired. Lack of vitamin D from working in this place. 

“Where do scumbags get off, making girls cry like that?” 

Carmy's eyes widen. “She’s crying?” 

Richie is capable of seriousness, despite himself. “Yeah,” he says, his anger swapped out for a low remorse, “I told her to go sit in the office until she’s feeling better.” 

Carmy pauses. “Should I go look in?” he asks. 

“Duh, Carmen. You’re the only one who can make her feel better. Which I resent!” He brings a rag end from his shoulder to wipe his forehead, which is gross, but whatever. “I’m fucking excellent at being a shoulder to cry on.” 

Carmy doesn’t know what that means. Richie says it like it’s obvious, but since when is Carmy the only person who can make you feel better? You’ve known everybody here far longer than you’ve known him, and sometimes Carmy thinks you probably don’t want a thing to do with him, does anybody in the kitchen? You’re smart, and you’ve been working here as long as anybody, started when you were genuinely too young and learning everything you know from the other. You have potential, like everybody here. You just didn’t get the right training, and you’re defensive (again, like everybody here). 

Carmy’s almost positive you’re gonna tell him to fuck off when he knocks the office door. He doesn’t know why he does it, nobody knocks in this shithole, but he does. Maybe he’s buying time; you’ll be feeling better when he pushes the door fully open, and he won’t have to navigate the treacherous depths of his feelings for you while he’s so busy trying to work himself out.

You sniff, muffled, like  a sleeve is held over your face. “Hello?” you ask. 

Carmy gets a burst of energy and doesn’t ask before stepping into the room. You can’t say no if he doesn’t ask, and you don’t, looking at him from the rickety office chair with distrust, and then sheepishness. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t be in here.” 

“No, no, you can come in here,” he says. He has a bad habit of pausing too long and looking too close, hands clenched in front of himself. “You can come in here. Some asshole made you cry?” 

You shake your head with tears still wet on your cheek. You’re at home in the office, all the chaos and posters and paper trails a match for you dishevelled appearance. You’ve pulled your foot onto the chair, showcasing a shoe that’s falling apart and two pairs of socks pulled to uneven heights. Your hands are a riot, none of your jewellery but a mismatch of different coloured band-aids over a multitude of wounds. And your face glows with tears, shitty light of the desk lamp casting yellow onto your teary cheeks, your lips bitten raw. 

“I’m fine,” you say. 

Carmy doesn’t know what he was expecting, but he was hoping for a better confession. “Over napkins?” 

“Said I’m s’posed to put napkins in the bag,” you say, a monotony to your voice that’s forced and weak at once. “‘Cos I’m a fucking idiot, right, who doesn’t put napkins in the bag?” You sniffle. “Whatever. Richie said he can’t come back.” 

“He can’t,” Carmy says quickly. 

He fails to follow it up. There’s an idiot in the office, for sure, and it’s not you. 

Your mouth crumples and you look away from him, something achy about you as another tear falls down your cheek to curve into the skin above your top lip, making a home at your cupid’s bow. “I’m fine.” 

“You can be upset,” he says. “This job’s… hard enough, without people making you feel like shit for shit you didn’t do.”

You respond to his warm(ish) tone with a small smile. Your tear slips down your lip. Carmy wants to wipe it off. 

“What can I do?” he asks finally.

He wishes he could make you feel better without asking, and there are parts of him that want to turn tail and run, too, but Carmy stays standing in front of the half-open door watching as tears make their way to your chin. He doesn’t know why you’re still crying. 

Maybe he does. Carmy doesn’t usually cry. He just watches things go wrong without stopping them, or keels over in the alley for long, too fast minutes as his heart pumps a bruising rhythm against his ribs. 

“I’m fine, Carmy,” you say, wiping your face roughly as you stand from the chair.  

He scratches a hand through his hair. “Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

“You don’t have to anything.” 

“Richie said I’m the only person who can make you feel better.” 

“You’re just the only guy who ever shouts at me,” you tease, sniffling softly as you do. 

Carmy shouldn’t yell at anyone, but he does. You’ve never cried. He wouldn’t yell at anybody if he thought it would make them upset like that, it’s just that yelling’s like talking where he comes from, and the kitchen doesn’t help. 

“So what? Am I supposed to beat that guy up?” Carmy asks. 

You laugh through what he hopes to be the last of your tears, scrubbing at your cheeks ineffectually. “Like you could beat somebody up. You’re all bark and no bite, Berzatto.” 

Sure. And he’s a loser, he’s more than aware of it; Carmy knows fifty seven different ways to prepare corn for eating and he doesn’t know a single way to make girls feel better, so he tries something he saw on TV. 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arm out insistently. “C’mere.” 

He leans in to grab you. You hold your arms out, but you still when he touches you like you're shocked. He’s a little shocked too. 

“Richie knew the guy, right?” Carmy asks. 

“He said he’s banned for life.” 

“Okay, great.” Carmy feels up your back slowly. Your arms are hesitant behind him. He’s the braver one for once, feeling at the dips and slopes of you with a greedy hand.

You smell… really good. He has a good sense of smell, can pick apart a meal's ingredients by scent alone if he’s awake enough, so he can tell you’re wearing that little solid perfume you keep in your cubby, gentle enough to not bother anybody in the kitchen, ever so slightly milky and sweet. He can also smell the salt on your cheeks. So weird to be able to smell your tears. 

Carmy pats your back and leans away. Your hands fall to your side. 

He wipes your face hesitantly, pinky to your soft cheek, until your tear stains are dry and you’re looking at him steadily.

“That was really weird,” you say. 

He panics, stepping away from you, “Fuck. Fuck, sorry.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m just kidding. Thanks, Carmy.” 

“Dick,” he says. 

You smile brightly. Okay, his heart fell into his ass when you said it was weird, but you can tease him all day if it makes you feel better. 

“I better go tell Richie I’m okay,” you say. “Don’t you have a stock to reduce?” 

“Oh, you mean your stock?” he asks. 

Your smile makes him wanna grab your wrist, and it makes him wanna chase after you. You slink out of the office, waving a quick goodbye with your fingers, and Carmy stares at the place you’d been sitting while you cried for a couple of seconds to get a grip.  

He puts his hand on his chest and feels his pulse racing. 

“Fucking asshole,” he mutters, not sure if he means the customer or himself.

[emphistic]

hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?

A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO

PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you

“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”

The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.

“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?

“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”

“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”

“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.

Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.

“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.

“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”

“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”

“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”

“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”

“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.

“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.

“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”

Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”

“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”

“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”

“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.

“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”

“No. And I hope it stays that way.”

“I—how dare you.”

That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.

But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.

Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?

Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”

“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.

“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”

“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?

It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.

“Uhh, I’m sorry—”

“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.

“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”

“Because I’m her prom date.”

“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”

“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.

Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”

“Uh huh.”

“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”

“Dude.”

Taglist: @beyond-your-stars @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @taiyakii @hannas16 @acroso @msvalsius @call-memissbrightside @kelerina-ballerina @emikokomura

[m00nl1ghts1vt]

Batman Has Arrived - Matt Sturniolo

Pairings - fwb!Matt x fem!Reader Summary - Two weeks into the break Matt proposed, he pops up on you at a Halloween party. Warnings - Strong language. Sexual suggestions. Fluff. A lil angst?? W/c - 2560 A/n - That tiktok Matt posted had me dreamingggg. It's now no nut November (idk if I'm participating) so I didn't want to turn this into a smut lol. Let me know what you guys think!! 🦇 Tags - @lvrsturniolo @thepubeburgler (if anyone else wants tagged just let me know!) My Masterlist Current series - City of Love (Matt) Current works - part two to You Like me? (Matt) Latest work - Pierced (Chris)

“Code red!” your best friend sounds from behind you, making you whirl around to face her. “He’s here and he’s so pissed,” she tells you before taking a sip of her drink. Your heart drops to your stomach, the drunken haze you’re in isn’t making it better, “you told me he wouldn’t be here!”

“I didn’t think he would be!” she throws her hands up defensively. It had only been two weeks since Matt proposed a ‘break’ between you two. His reason being - ‘he wasn’t in the right mental state for a girlfriend.’ You thought it was bullshit, and it was. Matt had a bad habit of not being straightforward with you. Truth be told, even though he was always the one to suggest a break, he was always the one to come running back. His constant need to go back and forth left you feeling mentally and emotionally exhausted. This wasn't the first time he brought up the idea, in the beginning you'd constantly check in on. After the third or fourth time of him doing the same stupid shit, you decided ignoring him was best.

Already knowing how the night will end, you pour yourself another shot. Before you can bring it up to your lips, “Batman has arrived,” you hear your best friend scoff. She throws a shot back with you as Matt approaches the kitchen island. “Drinking away your problems, huh?” the familiar voice makes you hold your breath out of nervousness.

You roll your eyes almost immediately, “I didn’t have any problem until I noticed you were here.” You were still holding a grudge. It had been six months since you and Matt first started hooking up. He was probably the most confusing man you had ever been with. One minute he’s talking about a future with you, and the next he’s telling you he needs a break, that he's not ready for a relationship. You’d feel a lot better if he actually communicated, telling you what’s truly wrong, but he did the exact opposite. He never told you shit, just springs unexpected breaks on you like your feelings don’t matter.

Even worse, Matt knew you were head over heels for him. Everyone knew. The way you stare at him when he was in close proximity resembled a schoolgirl swooning over her first crush, that’s what it felt like anyway.

“Don’t be like that, Y/n/n,” he says after leaning down to your ear. The loud music blaring through the house made it hard to hear anything. His hands fall to your waist, and he leans you back against his chest, “I only came out tonight so I could see you.”

You tilt your head to get a good look at him. Black paint smears over his eyes making him look more mysterious than he already did. You gape at him, “Batman?”

Matt’s fingers make gentle circles on your waistline, the fabric of your costume bunching up in the process. You were dressed in all black, as a fallen angel. Before the break, you and Matt planned on going as Catwoman and Batman, inspired by Robert Pattinson and Zoe Kravitz. It was one of your favorite superhero movies, along with his. Apparently, Matt wasn’t creative enough to come up with another costume idea. Seeing him in the costume you coordinated for him made your stomach twirl. Little did you know - he was praying you'd come dressed as his Catwoman.

“Fallen angel?” he asks before he spins you around to face him. You nod, a bit taken back with how touchy he was being. Matt wasn’t the pda type of person, just like he wasn’t the going out type. You figured Halloween was a special occasion since it was his favorite day of the year. Matt keeps his grip firm, “you look really good.”

“Are you drunk?” you ask him, leaning in so he can hear you better. Matt immediately shakes his head, “I can’t miss you?”

Sucking your teeth and shaking your head at him, “no.” You let your eyebrows knit together, looking at everything except Matt. Truth be told, every time he suggested a break it left you heartbroken. In a way, you felt like you weren't good enough to be his girlfriend. That’s how the constant back-and-forth shit made you feel, like you weren’t good enough for him.

Your drunken state makes it harder for you to blink away the tears prickling at your eyes. Matt’s hands move from your waist to your arms, rubbing them gently like he’s trying to distract you. “Well, I do,” he tells you, searching your face for answers neither of you seem to have. The reasoning behind all the breaks wasn’t because of another girl or wanting freedom. It was simply because he felt like his mental health didn’t allow him to treat you the way you deserved to be treated, and he knew that.

Sucking a breath in and deciding to stay strong, “I’m not doing this tonight, Matt. I came here to get my mind off of you,” you spit out as you take a step back. You run your finger through your hair, hoping the night wouldn’t end how you expected it to - in Matt’s bed.

Before he can say anything else, your best friend, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, snatches you out of his grip. “Okay,” she stretches out, “that’s enough arguing for tonight.”

Matt’s face drops and he keeps a firm grip on your arm, “what? We weren’t arguing,” he defends himself. You look down at the tight grip on your arm, “c’mon y/n/n. Please don’t be like that,” empathy leaking through his words.

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can Chris appears out of nowhere. He whispers something in Matt's ear, making him realize he’s causing a scene. He keeps grip tight as he looks around the room, taking in the people who are staring at you two. Innocent bystanders probably thought he was some crazy overprotective boyfriend. That wasn’t the case though, and it made your heart hurt. Matt being possessive over you was pointless if he never had any plans to make you his.

Six months. Six months you had been fucking him and he still hasn’t asked you out. You were losing hope at this point. You had the ‘don’t go back to him’ talk with your best friend time after time but you never learned your lesson. Nights like this always ended with an angry Matt fucking you into his mattress as you spoke in tongues against his pillow, leaving drool stains on the process.

Chris wraps arm around his brother's shoulder, guiding him away from you, and waving an arm over his shoulder. It was his way of signaling you to get the fuck out of there. You quickly take notion, spinning around and hauling ass out of the kitchen, your bestie close behind you.

“That was fucking intense,” she tells you once you lead her to an empty bathroom, closing the door behind her. You groan, throwing your head back, “did you see how fucking good he looked?!”

“No, no,” she says in a panicky tone. “You’re not going home with him tonight!” She knows you too well. Looking in the mirror, you critic your Halloween makeup, making sure none of it got ruined yet. Your best friend makes her way to the toilet, quickly dropping her pants and squatting, “sorry I have to pee.” You shrugged at her, knowing you’d do the same if you really had to pee.

“I feel so bad though,” you tell her while applying more lip stick. “Bitch, he should feel bad for constantly playing with your emotions,” she scoffs.

“He does. You seen his face,” defending him against her harsh opinions wasn’t uncommon at this point. Y/bf/n was just as protective over you as Matt was. Her knowing every detail about the relationship you shared with him made her question his true intentions towards you. You were never the type to have a friends with benefits relationship, and Matt was pretty much forcing you into it. He hadn’t left you alone since the first night he had you, but he never talked about furthering things either.

“Just because his face says one thing, it doesn’t mean it’s accurate,” she tells you honestly. She had a point, but you knew Matt. You knew he wore his emotions on his face before he communicated them to the world. He held a lot back from a lot of people, you included.

You shake your head in disagreement, but before you can talk, she does, “I know you’re gonna leave with him. But at least tell him what you actually want before the night is over and if he doesn’t give it to you then you need to leave him alone. Matt’s not good for you, Y/n.”

After y/bf/n finishes lecturing you, you quickly exit the bathroom, making your way back to the living room. Only problem was, Matt was standing by the doorway with Chris and Nick, scoping his surroundings in hopes to find you. As soon as his eyes land on you, his feet move in your directions. Nick and Chris in tow close behind him, you’d think they were babysitting their drunk brother, but Matt was nowhere near drunk. He was fuming.

“Y/n,” he calls out as soon as he approaches you. You let your face do the talking, scrunching your nose at his comment. Matt never called you by your first name unless he was serious. “You’re coming home with me,” he states, not bothering to give you an option. He quickly redeems himself, “cause you’re drunk.”

“Right,” you huff, running a hand through your hair, “that’s why.” Matt's lips curve upward a bit like he’s trying to smile but he fights it off, keeping them pin straight. Nick lets out a laugh behind him, followed by Chris. Ear hustlers.

You really didn’t have the time or patience to have your Halloween night ruined. You were a girl who liked to have a good time, so Matt putting a halt on your night made you give in to what he wanted. Anything to avoid the conflict at all costs, you had a soft spot for him. You couldn’t tell if it was black paint he had smeared across his eyes, something told you had to go home with him. Then again, your conscious convinced itself every other night you needed him. Holding out for the past two weeks did neither of you the justice it should’ve. It only made the infatuation worse.

Not even twenty minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of Matt’s car. He sped through traffic occasionally glancing at you with the sour expression still stuck on his face like glue. Two weeks and you were already wasted at a Halloween party, giving any random guy the opportunity to make a play on you. It pissed him off to no end.

Matt knew every time he suggested a break, it broke your heart a little bit more. He couldn’t bring himself to publicly announce your relationship, he feared the attention would ruin it all. If you were soft for him then you’d be soft when the hate comment came along too, and he wasn’t willing to let that happen. As overprotective as he was, he knew he’d lash out at anyone who threw a negative comment your way. He had a soft spot for you, he just didn’t let it show. Deep down, you could sense it every time you were with him and that’s what reeled you in more each time.

“What’s with the looks?” you decide to finally break the silence, cutting the tension that floated in the air. It didn’t matter how mad he was, the Batman costume was doing wonders for you. Matt gives you the silent treatment, mentally scolding himself for practically kidnapping you. He knew it was toxic, and he knew he was the cause of it. The rest of the car ride is silent until he pulls up to his apartment.

“C’mon Matt,” you whine, “I really like the way your face is painted,” pulling the sleeve of his shirt. Not wanting to fight with him anymore, you caved like usual. Instead of letting his shitty mood get the best of you, you made light of it, doing anything you could to make the night end well.

“You’re crazy, you know that?” keeping his tone low and teasing, “you ghost me for weeks and now all the sudden want me, wonder why?” This wasn’t unfamiliar for you and Matt to be so hot and cold with each other. Whether you liked it or not, it happened too frequently. As soon as the door is open, you rush inside to kick off your shoes, stumbling in the process, “slow down!” Matt reaches a hand out, snaking it around your waist to steady you. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you hold on to his bicep in an attempt to steady yourself even more, “I’m drunk.”

“I know, baby. I can tell,” he keeps his grasp tight on you, kicking his shoes off, and leading you to the bedroom. Needles and pins stick into your feet with every step you take, making you take a mental note to never wear those heels again. Matt pushes his bedroom door open revealing his messy room. He never made his room look nice unless he was expecting someone you. In a way, you found it comforting because you knew he didn’t fuck anyone during your breaks. Instead, he sulked, trying to find ways to make the situation better but it never worked. He never put in full effort, and he knew it. It killed him.

You take your spot on Matt’s bed, making yourself comfortable. “I’m gonna go wash up,” he tells you quietly.

“What nooo,” you stretch out, rising to your feet and stumbling in the process. “I told you I like it,” crossing your arms over your chest.

“Seriously?” He asks as he takes off his jacket, hanging it on the back of the door. “I thought you were kidding,” he chuckles. Even though he was still upset over the whole situation, he couldn’t help but think your drunken haze was the cutest thing. He loved how goofy and playful you were, like all the shyness disappears.

You reach out to him, taking the hem of his sleeve between your fingers, “I really wanted to be your Catwoman tonight, y’know,” giving him those seductive doe eyes you mastered years ago. That look made him crack every time.

“The least you can do is be my Batman,” filling in the gap between the two of you. You press your body against his and wrap your arms around his neck, “you missed me?”

Matt hangs his head, making sure he’s ear level to you, “I did,” growling lowly. He places a sloppy kiss on your earlobe and sending shivers down your spine. Matt's hands wrap around the back of your thighs, and he pulls you closer to him. It never failed, as soon as he got you in his possession, there was no keeping his hands off of you. The break ended right then and there.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending I cheated on my partner when our common friend asked why we fought?

It will sound fake and fictional, but please bear with me because I'm getting crazy over it. And also sorry for any english mistake, we're not from an english speaking country.

To give some context: I am a man. There was this person, B(m), which whom I kind of grew up with. We went through the same schools from our 6 years old to 17 but we never were really friends. Then, around our 13, I got into a clique that fed into all my bad habits and I started to actively bully B because he seemed like an easy target at the time. I enjoyed it and was encouraged to do so (because I was such an asshole and I'm not even cringing thinking about it, it's worse. I regret it so much and I was a stupid and bad teenager). It was so bad that after years of enduring it, B changed school before we graduated and I went on with my life.

It' was's been about 15 years ago that I graduated.

In the meantime, I dealt with some problems that I had with my family and I went through intensive therapy which changed me for the better, and I came to terms with my sexuality as well.

Flashforward to 2019/2020, I meet with someone online through some games and it goes very well. Thanks to the Covid and the lockdowns, we play even more and get closer. At some point, I talk about an event happening close to my city, and he tells me that he knows about it as well and that we're living close to each other. Because we enjoyed our time online (ngl, we had started flirting although I didn't know how sincere it was) we decided to meet at that event.

And there, I find out that my online friend is B. It's extremely awkward but only for me because he cannot recognize me for three reasons: 1. I changed physically with my puberty finally finishing the job after my 18 birthday, and I found some love into dying my hair. 2. I changed in terms of personality thanks to the therapy I went through. 3. My legal name was changed when I said goodbye to this fucking family of mine and left without turning back (but I was getting sick just saying my last name).

I, obviously, didn't tell him anything about who I really was because I just wanted to enjoy that evening with a friend, and we didn't see each other since he left high school because of me. My plan was just to slowly distance myself from him after that evening but it failed because we had a lot of fun and we actually really hit off and I was dying constantly at the idea that he could find out.

We've been in a relationship sicne the beginning of 2021 and I was decided to just never tell him (horrifying idea I know, anyone with a braincell would have told me that it was bound to be found).

A month ago, I met with an old friend from high school (so yeah, he was in the bullying gang but more of a followers, so we stayed in friendly terms when we both agreed that it was bad) and as he recognized B, he decided to excuse himself and hoped that B would forgive him like he "forgave" me (I never got to tell that friend to shut up about that) so yeah, B found out that I was his main bully who had lied to him for almost 4 years now.

We had quite a big talk about it. How bad my bullying ended up for B; why I lied like that and never admitted it. And even if it went alright, B told me that he needed a break to think about things and it's going to be one month that I'm crashing at a common friend of us. At first, I just said that B and I got into a fight and it was good enough, but as it's been already a month, the friend asked more about it. Not wanting to bring up B's trauma to someone else (especially after our conversation), I just told the first lie that came to me and pretended that I cheated on B and he found out.

Now that common friend is calling me an asshole and keeps reminding me how much they are disappointed in me to have done something so horrifying to B. I keep wondering if I did well to lie like that, or if I should have found another way out.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— the farmyard adventures | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

this one is loosely based around an anon request for the swear jar to continue and then it spiraled into this...

thank you to @alotofpockets for her help with this one!

You knew it would only a matter of time before that damn swear jar came back to bite Leah in the ass.

In fact it was more like a matter of days before she slipped up.

"Ow, fuck! That's hot!" You heard the blonde shout aloud no doubt burning herself on the tray of chicken nuggets that she was bringing out the oven.

Of course you being the absolute menace that you are take absolute delight in bringing that up when it happens.

"Ah, Le, you just swore!" You take the opportunity to purposely wind the blonde up.

Your favourite little buddy is sitting right beside you as she gasps dramatically, "Mummy said a bad word?" She questions, turning to look at you for clarification.

"She did indeed, Buddy!" You nod your head profusely as the smirk is yet to disappear of your face, "You know what that means, don't yer?" You question.

"Swear jar!" Buddy chips in, excitedly as she throws her hands in the air like it's some sort of victory.

Once again you nod again in agreement, "Correct there, Bud!" You turn to look at the blonde with a knowing shit-eating grin on your face, "Cough up, Le. That's a tenner you owe to the jar!" You state.

The blonde scoffs lightly and shakes her head, "Oh yeah right, like I'm actually going to follow through with that. It's more for you, Menace." She tells you from where she stood at the kitchen sink while she run her hand under the cold tap.

"Come on Le, you can't insist on a swear jar and not play by the rules!" You state, mockingly as the blonde is just glaring at you, "Don't be a hypocrite." You add, continuing to be the menace.

Sue you for trying to prove a point that it isn't just Buddy with the sailor mouth these days.

"Trust you to remind me off that," Leah grumbles in protest.

"You can't forget about it," Your really just trying to get your point across and of course a little shit stirrer as well at the same time, "Swear jar! Swear jar! Swear jar!"

"Jar! Jar! Jar!" Buddy picks up on your chants and starts to copy you, "Come on Mummy, its' okay to be a sore loser!"

Leah's eyes widen in disbelief at the audacity to hear that, "You are teaching her bad habits!" She wags her finger in your direction.

"Me? You're the one who swore, remember!" You exclaim in the usual dramatic way that you do, "It's not my fault that you are a sore loser though, Buddy has a point there!"

"Mummy, you gots' to put money in the jar!" Buddy insists, matching the blonde with an expression similar to her own which has you in stitches.

Leah clicks her tongue disapprovingly, "You pair are ganging up on me now! Double trouble, the pair of you." She mutters under her breath.

"You've gotta do, Le," You smirk, continuing to make the point known, "Your the one who wanted to start the swear jar. You gotta commit to it now!"

"You can't be serious," The blonde laughs and shakes her head in disbelief.

You continue to have a shit eating grin on your face, "Nah but I am totally serious. You owe a tenner to the jar!"

Leah huffs and rolls her eyes in annoyance, moving over to grab her purse out of her bag to pull a ten pound note out before she shoves it into the new jar that mock's her now, "Stupid jar was a stupid idea to begin with." She grumbles under her breath.

It's actually quite hilarious to you how much the blonde has been the one to slip up more than you, and by the end of the week the jar has a hefty amount in it.

Enough for more lego!

At least that's you would like to willingly spend it on, however, Leah seems to think otherwise.

"A day out as a family would be nice, wouldn't it?" Leah brings up the idea at the suggestion of the amount of money in the jar being put to good use.

"Lego would be better," You insist playfully, having your eye on more lego as always.

The blonde rolls her eyes in disagreement, "You already have a lot of it."

You can't help but gasp in shock horror while clutching your hand over your heart, "You can never have too much lego, Le!"

"I beg to differ there, Monkey. Your lego obsession is starting to take over the house!" Leah remarks, giving you a knowing look before she looks to her mini me, "Hey, Buddy. Would you like to go out? We could go to the farm and visit all the animals. Wouldn't that be so much fun?" She wonders.

Buddy's eyes lit up at the words of animals, "Go to the farm?" Her voice is completely ecstatic about it, "Farm! Farm! Farm!"

"Yeah, we'll go to the farm and see all the animals like the horses, goats, piggies, cows--" Leah starts to list off the animals to the 3 year old.

It's your turn to dramatically gasp now, "You mean we can go see the cows-- Wait, will they be fluffy, like Derek?" You wonder, curiously.

"Your obsession with fluffy cows is a bit concerning, Menace," Leah jokes in amusement.

"Whoa, what you got against Derek, huh?" You pout at the older blonde.

"Who's Derek?" Buddy's little voice questions in curiosity, "I wan' see Derek!"

Your already quick to pull out your phone and show your favourite little Buddy a photo of the fluffy cow you met in Nashville, "Hes' adorable, isn't he? Wait until you meet him!" You tell her excitedly, before you have a sudden realisation of what else would be at the farm.

Chickens, otherwise known as your number one arch nemesis.

"Wait, wait, wait," You look suddenly in a panic as you look at Leah, "Will there be chickens at this farm?" You question in hesitance.

"Well that's where they usually are, aren't they?" Leah jokes.

You can't help but scrunch your face up in horror, "Ch... Chickens scare me. I'm not going anywhere near them!" You exclaim, shaking your head in a fast motion, "No way, Jose." 

"What?" Leah questions, baffled.

"They freak me out, they're not fluffy at all like Derek is!" You insist, still shaking your head profusely about the idea of coming face to face with them again, "I'm not goin' anywhere near 'em whatsoever! Nope, nope, nope. I'm not doin' it!"

Leah still continues to stare at you in some type of concern, "Oh lord help us all."

"You know that chickens scare me, Malfoy!" You whine in protest, not liking the idea of this trip to the farm at all, "What if one decides to come at me while I'm not on guard, like, what if it... What if it bites me?" You gasp with wide eyes.

The blonde on the other hand finds your fear of chickens absolutely hilarious, "Monkey, they're not running free. This isn't Chicken Little!" She can't help but say as she still laughs at your own expense of being afraid of them.

"Oh," You quietly realise as you bit her bottom lip, "Well then, that's not so bad then I guess, is it? The trip to the farm sounds like fun!" You state, shrugging your shoulders.

Completely acting like you weren't petrified of said chickens less than 5 seconds previous to that.

"You lied to me!" You accuse the blonde while glaring at her.

It's needless to say when you all arrived at the farm for the trip out, you were completely alarmed to see the chickens roaming around freely.

So you are yet to even get out of the car and you are definitely not going near those horrid birds!

Meanwhile, Buddy is all for trying to willingly chase after them while Kim and Lia keep an eye on her, while Leah battles the task of getting you out of the car.

Leah can't help but laugh and roll her eyes, "Oh, that's a bit of an exaggeration, isn't it now?"

"Nope, you lied!" You insist, crossing your arms and stubbornly glaring at the blonde, "You told me a full blown lie!"

"Okay, so I may have bent the truth then, ever so slightly," Leah admits as she shrugs her shoulders.

You shake your head profusely in disagreement, "Nope, nope, you didn't bend the truth. You completely lied!" You state, stubbornly.

"Your being dramatic here, Monkey-- Even Buddy's not afraid of them!" The blonde remarks, exhaling a sigh as she looks in the direction to where Buddy is trying to get near to said animals, "Now are you going to get out of the car, or do you plan to stay in there this whole time?" She asks, patiently.

"Nope, no. I'm fine-- I'm not goin' anywhere near the chickens!" You all but insist, very reluctant to move out of the car at all, "It's not like Chicken Little, my ass!" You murmur, scowling at the blonde.

Leah can't help but laugh in amusement, finding your phobia of chickens somewhat hilarious, "You're being ridiculous. They can't even hurt you!"

Shaking your head in defiance, you bring your knees up to your head and wrap your hands around them, "You don't know that. They're evil, just look at 'em!" You gesture in the direction of one that's very closely approaching to the car as you somehow are convinced it can get near you, "They're just minutes away from biting me!" You insist.

"Monkey, chickens don't bite," The blonde states from where she now stands leaning up against the open door frame of the car while she waits for you to get out.

At the news of that, you start to relax a little, "They don't?" You can't but help but breath a sigh of relief and pluck up the courage to work your way to slowly get out of the car.

"Nope," The blonde replies, happy enough with the answer as it means you've finally gotten out of the car now before she starts to walk ahead of you to catch up with Buddy, Lia and Kim, "The worst that they can do is peck you." She mutters under her breath.

"I'm disappointed, they're not even fluffy cows!" You huff in protest, making your displeasure very much known in the situation, "Why aren't the cows fluffy?"

Kim can't help but look at Leah when you make that comment, "Has she had an energy drink today?"

"Nope, this is just Monkey," Leah exhales a sigh and shakes her head.

The trip to the farm is mostly successful, but much to your disappointment, the cow's aren't as fluffy and none of them really look like Derek much either.

"They might not be as fluffy but they're still cute though," Lia chimes in, smiling at you.

"Nope, I don't like it-- Ah, something bit me. It bit me!" You screech in absolute horror as you feel a sudden nip at your ankle, "I told you that they bite. I weren't lying about it!" You shout, making a complete scene in front of everyone.

Right in the moment, you didn't care when you where having to deal with worst nightmare.

"Wait until she see's the rooster," Kim jokes, amused at the situation.

Leah chuckles in agreement, "Oh yeah, she's definitely gonna freak out there."

The only highlight of this trip so far was seeing Leah hold a baby lamb and almost break into tears over it, you were sure to snap a photo of it just so you can definitely tease her about it, of course.

"Monkey, look, chickies!" Buddy exclaims, pointing in the direction of 2 winged feet creatures you absolutely detest coming near you, "You can stroke them!"

"Nope, no-- Uh uh, I'm not goin' anywhere near them!" You insist, glaring at them as they come near to you, "Back beast back, I'll 'ave ya!" You shout aloud, trying to square up to them as if you weren't afraid of them minutes ago.

"Chickies!" Buddy repeats, trying to drag you towards the animals that you completely detest.

Your eyes widen in fear and shake your head, "Nope, cya, I'm off-- Hey! Put me down!" Your not able to bolt like you'd so much like to do when Lia seems to have thought one step ahead and threw you over her shoulder to save sending out the search party for you, "Put me down!"

"Good thinking," Leah remarks, smiling at her friend.

"Put me down! I don't like heights, ya know? I'll get sea sick!" You protest, hitting your fists on the back of the girls back, "I don't wanna be near them!"

"Sea sick?" Kim furrows her eyebrows confused.

"I... I have no idea where that one's come from," Leah states, dumbfound as she can't help but laugh, "Note to self, we're not getting chickens any time soon." She speaks aloud, finding the situation of you being afraid of chickens still absolutely hilarious.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

More headcanons of the Nimona trio being domestic dorks

Whenever the trio gets sick of each other they’ll ask the person in the trio they’re not pissed at to handle them

It always goes something like this “Ambrosius come get your kid they won’t leave me alone-“ “No Nemesis come get your husband he’s being a stick in the mud”

Or “Bal go get your son from prison he got arrested again” “Oh so he’s my son today?” “Yes when he’s stupid enough to get caught he’s your son” 

If you're wondering why Nimona doesn't just escape its cause they find it hilarious when Bal has to come to bail them out at random points in the day

There are also times when they’re proud or happy and they’ll say things like “I’m gonna go get my daughter ice cream” “Since when is she just your daughter?” “Since right now when she helped me fix my prosthetic” 

“Hey boss where’s my Nemesis I heard he got in a fight today” “I thought he was my Nemesis” “Not when he puts three guys in the hospital he’s not” 

Bal is one of those people who sees something and says “Why would I buy that when I can just make it” AND HE DOES

Nimona has a bad habit of fucking up speakers so Bal just set up a sound system throughout the house 

If the trio weren’t such antisocial losers with three friends combined their parties would be amazing

He made Ambrosius a skincare cabinet just so he could put actual medicine in the medicine cabinet 

When Nimona moved in he asked them what their ideal room would look like 

She gave him a rough draft and he did all of it

They spend a week tearing that room apart so they could soundproof it so she could rock out without disturbing the boys

She has sick ass LED lights and she’ll change the colors depending on her mood 

Ambrosius and Bal helped her paint the walls the most obnoxious shade of neon pink And then they didn’t complain when she spray painted over said walls 

It’s worth it to see her visibly relax when she enters her room

This man has gutted and put back together and rearranged their little house so many times it’s unrecognizable 

I also feel like everyone in the trio is a crafty bitch

They all have a million little hobbies that have produced even more trinkets that fill up their whole house 

Their house is this weird combination of comfy yet chaotic and it's a minimalists nightmare 

Cleaning is also a nightmare but they wouldn't change it for anything 

Back when they were in the institute Ambrosius was a terrible cook -♾️/10 his cooking would put people in the hospital 

After the knighting ceremony was the first time he was living by himself and didn’t have access to free food so he taught himself how to cook

Honestly most people would think he would give up

I mean there are only so many times you set water on fire before you throw in the towel

But he's a stubborn brat and cooking took his mind off of everything so he stuck with it

One day Bal came home to the smell of cooking and he assumed it was Nimona 

He swears to this day he had a heart attack when he saw Ambrosius in front of the stove and Nimona comfortably sitting at the dinner table not helping at all

He promptly dragged Nimona out of there like a bomb just went off and warned him not to touch Ambrosius’ food

He told Bal “The more you call it a biohazard the more I want to eat it” 

So Bal used him like a test dummy 

When Nimona finally did try it they turned to Bal and complained that he lied 

Bal thought he was being pranked until he was forced by Nimona to try the food 

And it was good 

More than good I was fucking amazing 

He asked Ambrosius quite frankly “Who are you and what have you done with my husband” 

Ambrosius just rolled his eyes and told him to eat the food

Bal never gave up on finding out how and slowly but surely he started asking like a normal person

And Ambrosius never answered like a normal person

His answers would range from “A chef never reveals his secrets” (“that’s a magician love” “just zip it and eat your food”) to “I’m never telling you so suffer and finish this meal I lovingly cooked” (“is it still considered love if you knew I was gonna suffer?” “Yes” “…. Makes sense”)

[creedslove]

DESERVE IT - PART FOUR

Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: after the traumatic night you were doing your best to keep things to yourself, but when a co-worker begins to bother you, you make a decision that brings consequences no one imagine and now it's Javier's turn to take your side, despite the bad situation involving the two of you

Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of smut, kind of unrequited love, sexual harassment, violence, verbal abuse like a lot of verbal abuse, physical abuse, protective Javier, this one is heavy sorry

A/N: Idk I was so invested in this chapter because reader is me (us) and I love the drama

• PART ONE

• PART TWO

• PART THREE

3.6k words

The reflection that stared back at Javier in the mirror disgusted him to no end. 

He hated every single detail about it, its looks, its attitude, its job, its shitty choices. 

Javier Peña hated himself.

He was a low life, he knew that and never actually hid it, but to know you now, not only knew for a fact he was one, but told him to his face made it everything worse. 

He wasn't a hypocrite, he knew you were right, he was never going to try to convince you otherwise, there was no mistake, no misinterpretation in the world that could somehow lessen what he'd done to you. 

He'd ghosted you, ignored you, been cold, rude, he'd complained about how well you treated him, even if that was the only good thing he had in his life. The kindness he received from you without expecting anything in return was something he should've refused but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

And he knew he should've kept to himself the moment you refused his flirting. That was what he did to the very few women who refused him, but he just couldn't resist. 

The way you laughed softly and bit your lips, an adorable pink spreading on your beautiful face as you leaned closer and watched him up and down. 

"If it weren't for the heartbreak I still got, I'd be under you right now" you chuckled "and then I'd be on top of you and if you really played your cards right, I'd be on my hands and knees" you burst out laughing, sipping the drink he'd paid you and looking down in embarrassment. 

That was your first ever interaction outside the office and after you were bluntly honest with him, he wasn't able to let you go. 

You were too good, too pretty, too funny and too damn sexy. 

After that, he promised himself he wouldn't let you get hurt, but he couldn't stay away. Each time your face lit up when he said something about your nails, or how you smiled when he called you a pet name and the next thing Javier leaving small gifts on your desk. 

It was stupid, he felt so dumb when you arrived at work and saw the small chocolates, or the flowers, but the moment you smiled at him and rushed to his desk to thank him, it made it all worth it. 

Then you began hanging out on the weekends too, at first it was a shy restaurant recommendation, that quickly turned into a ride to the restaurant and that evolved into lunch or dinner together. 

During the week, the smell of food coming from your apartment was tempting, and though Javi salivated just to picture how good it would be to have some homemade food again, he was too embarrassed to knock on your door and ask for a plate. 

As if you'd read his mind you knocked on his door, offering some and that became a habit. 

You were right when you rubbed on his face he enjoyed being treated like your boyfriend, he really did. That way he could be near you and daydream about how things could be if he were a different man. 

He never meant to hurt you, but he began hurting you by letting you in, by not pushing you away when he had the opportunity to do so. He knew you, he knew you were past the relationship feelings a long time ago, maybe you didn't tell yourself that, but he could tell you liked him in a way it was fair to you, because he liked you just as much, though it took him some time to bring himself to admit it himself he was in love. 

But nothing good ever came from that. 

Even the times Javier was actually in love, it faded as quick as it started. He was a guy that had passions, but they never lasted. So he couldn't do that to you. He couldn't let you think you two could be together knowing some day he would probably wake up and see his feelings for you had changed, while you were stuck in love with someone who didn't deserve you. 

He couldn't be like your ex, he hated that motherfucker with passion. Since the first time you mentioned your heartbreak, under all the amusement he felt at your words, he also felt a hint of anger. He didn't understand how a man could hurt a woman like you. 

You'd never told him exactly what had happened, and he never asked. It was pretty simple to him: if you wanted Javier to know, you'd tell him eventually. 

Of course he couldn't help wondering what he'd done to you. Several times Javi lay on his bed thinking of your past relationship. He assumed the guy had cheated, that was a real good reason for someone to become brokenhearted but he had a feeling that it could be more than that. Maybe he'd got someone else pregnant? It was one of the theories Javi came up with. 

When Steve had one drink after the other after work the day he actually got his shit back together after crying over Connie for weeks, he got tipsy and talkative, and he blabbered everything you'd confided in him. 

You'd been left at the altar by your fiance. 

You'd been left in front of everybody, family, friends, co-workers, while wearing a beautiful wedding dress that you picked so carefully, in order to make that day perfect in every way.

Your fiance had publicly humiliated you just like Javier did with fiancee a decade prior. 

Javier hated your ex with passion for what he did to you, and he hated himself even more to know that in a way, he was also that guy. 

He had to try and stop you from getting even more hurt by being around him, but just like everything in life, he screwed things up. 

When you woke up the morning after that horrible night, you wanted to disappear. You groaned as a pounding headache reminded you constantly of your very poor choices the night before and you closed your eyes wishing as hard as you could that what had happened would be just an awful nightmare and nothing more. 

But you needed to face reality. 

But reality could wait a little, so you spent the weekend locked in your apartment, literally playing dead, not wanting to see anyone as you thought about everything you were doing in life, you were so tired of that situation, tired of Javier, tired of your feelings for him. You were also tired of what was about to come, you just wished your heart would stop aching like it did. 

When Monday came, you ignored everyone and did your job. You went out for lunch on your own and returned for another shift of not making visual contact with anyone and praying that lump in your throat that suffocated you would go away. 

Javier and Murphy kept their voices low, so you didn't distinguish what they talked about, eventually you felt their gaze on you, which you also ignored. 

Steve looked around nervously at Javier who just looked away, avoiding you as much as you did him, but continued walking towards your desk, stopping right in front of it and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Um… Y/N?" Murphy smiled nervously "Javi and I left some reports with you last week because you were helping us with it and Messina wants them… where are they?" 

You bit your lips at the urgent need of bursting out laughing at his face. 

After everything they'd done, Steve had blabbered about your personal life and Javier… well, you didn't even like to remember it, they still wanted you to do their job? 

You thought of many ways you could snap in front of them, make a scandal and have the entire office's attention on them, but you quickly gave up, instead, you raised your head with a sweet smile

"Oh sorry Steve, I forgot them at home, but they'll be here first thing in the morning" you assured them. 

When both Javier and Murphy got to work the next day they found a huge pile of unfinished documents to fill. They looked at each other in confusion but what you'd done quickly sank in. For one second, they were both naive to the point of actually believing you would help them do their job after what happened. 

                              •••

Three weeks had passed since the Javier incident and you'd never been more isolated from everyone. As Javi used to be your favorite person to hang out, you still talked to Steve and Connie, and some other people from the office, but you ended up distancing yourself and they didn't seem to be too eager to get your company, so it was not like they missed you.

Steve was still single, going to bars almost every night but also managing to be a functional drunk by day and work as a cop.

As for Javier you didn't know and you didn't care, sometimes you could smell coffee coming from his apartment, or cooking oil, which meant he was probably making himself some french fries. He loved them just like the man child he was. 

You also didn't hear any commotion from his place, which meant whoever he was fucking was being silent. 

You missed him on a daily basis, everything reminded you of Javi and sometimes it even took you some time to process you weren't friends anymore when you saw something nice or funny and wanted to show him. 

But at the same time, you also felt proud of yourself for working on your emotional detachment from him. The first few days you thought it was impossible to be away from him, but you were getting by. 

On the other hand, one consequence of Javi's distance from you was the fact that Carlos took it as an invitation to hit on you. 

He started small, discret, but consistent. At first he just left small chocolates around your desk because he was so pathetic he had to imitate Javier, not being able to come up with an idea on his own.

You always got rid of them by placing them on Steve's desk when he wasn't around which led him to think they were a gift from Colleen. You chuckled to yourself when you heard his theory. You knew the fire was about to spread in that department but you simply didn't care. You wanted them all to fuck off. 

Then Carlos left you post its with several messages. They started humble and innocent, calling you pet names and other stuff, but after a while they started to become spicy, until he left you full, explicit words of what he would like to do with you in that ugly, sloppy handwriting of his. 

You kept them all in your drawer, you knew when the time was right you'd be able to use them in your favor. 

The morning you decided to wear a pencil skirt to work was when everything began going to shit. First, Javier's jaw dropped; he couldn't even pretend he didn't acknowledge your existence anymore. Instead, he just followed you with his eyes all around the office, like an animal and he didn't even care.

His jeans got tighter and he would let Pablo Escobar produce all the cocaine in the world if he could only know if you were wearing panties along that skirt or not. 

The mere idea of you bare under that teasing outfit in your workplace was enough to send shivers down his spine. It was enough to take all his focus away and the only picture in Javier's mind was to have you sitting on his desk, legs spread wide while he had his face buried between your folds. At that moment, he wanted to be nothing but your fuck boy, to make it up to you by fucking you like no other. 

"We gotta go, perv" Murphy interrupted his wet daydreams and reminded him they'd have to go to the streets. 

Carlos took their departure as an invitation to come closer, and as you grabbed yourself a cup of water he slapped your ass. 

"Ay que culo sabroso princesa" he whispered into your ear, without warning and making you spill some of your water. He laughed softly "leaving a wet path for me already?" 

Your blood boiled, if you had access to a gun you knew you would probably shoot that pig in the face, you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs until someone actually put you out of your misery. 

You were so fed up, so tired, so angry with men taking everything from you. Your fiance, Javier, Murphy, Carlos… you felt you couldn't even live your life without having one of them ruining some aspect of it somehow. It stirred something in you and an idea popped into your head. You took a deep breath and controlled yourself again, you were going to make him pay, because if one of them got punished, the others would learn from the lesson. 

You turned to him and smirked. 

"You're all talk and no action. You've been dropping little dirty notes on my desk like a horny teen and made no moves… are you even interested in me?" You batted your eyes at him.

Carlos frowned softly and chuckled.

"I thought you hated me, you went pretty feral when I talked about Peña a while ago, didn't ya?" 

"I did, but Peña is no longer in the picture and I heard hate fucks can be even better than love ones… I haven't tried these yet, but maybe you could help me with that?" You smirked and took his hand writing down the address to a shady hostel known by the cops who investigated downtown. 

"Eight PM. Bring a bottle of wine and a bottle of lube, ya que te gusta mi culo" you whispered and saw the color drain from his ugly, pathetic face. "Nobody will suspect a cop and an assistant carrying out an investigation there, right?" You winked at him and walked away. 

Carlos believed you so easily for a second you though he was the one messing with you, but turns out he was just simply and straight up stupid. 

The next step was easy. 

You excused yourself to mail some documents and on your way back you also mailed the collection of obscene post-its to Carlos' house, where his wife received them. The last one had the time and the address she should go to. 

And the rest was history. 

When morning came, gossip spread through the office like wildfire, thanks to Colleen who heard it from a cop, who heard it from another and by 9AM everyone knew agent Carlos Galindo had been caught red-handed by his wife who immediately pulled out a huge scene dragging attention from the whole block.

There was crying, screaming, slapping, scratching and accusations, and according to Colleen, Mrs.Galindo had kicked him out of home and forbade him from seeing the kids. 

Apparently a mysterious woman had set the whole thing up, and no one knew her identity. 

Though Murphy had a pretty good idea, he shot you a smirk "don't you think it's a whole lotta coincidence Carlos got into this shit now that he'd been harrassing you?" 

ou shrugged and smiled big, it was the first time Javier had seen you smile for real in almost a month and he cursed himself to see his heart skipped a beat.

"Well, I know some men think they can get away with everything, but they gotta learn they can't just play with women as if we were nothing" you accidentally glanced at Javier and he caught your eyes. Shit.

You cleared your throat and hoped you weren't blushed "anyway, whoever did this knew he deserved it" you winked at Steve and went back to work.

You were finishing another report, going over the spelling again to make sure there were no mistakes when a commotion dragged your attention.

You could hear some muffled voices which became loud as someone approached the room. You looked at Javier and Murphy, the three of you confused at what the heck was going on. 

Colleen's voice wasn't much more than a nervous squeak, telling whoever the person that was coming wasn't a good idea. 

And then you saw him. 

Carlos was standing there, fuming, with red blood eyes, looking like he hadn't seen a shower in ages, still with his work uniform and staring at you with a death glare. 

Anyone could see he was clearly out of his mind, but everyone seemed to look at him in a mix of awe and curiosity. 

You thought it was so amusing to see him in that shitty state, but your smile immediately died when you saw him taking some steps towards you. He had a bottle of wine in hands and his lips twitched in an attempt of a smile which turned into a sinister face.

"Buenos días puta" he said "I waited for you last night, but you never showed up, whore. My wife did though and she wasn't happy about it, and I bet my heavy balls you were the cum dumpster slut who called her" he said getting near your desk at the same time Javier stood up, calling Carlos' name in order to draw attention to himself, but he was ignored. 

"I'm such a gentleman I even brought you your bottle of wine, I hope you enjoy it, puta" he said angrily before shattering the bottle against the edge of your desk and spilling wine all over the floor. Carlos' hand immediately yanked a handful of your hair and pulled you against his body, pointing the sharp glass towards your neck. 

Murphy and Javier began trying to talk to him, in order to distract the man and get you safely out of his hands. 

The grip on your hair was painful and though you didn't think Carlos would do it, you couldn't help but being scared. 

"You're nothing but a bitch, a cum dumpster for the guys in the office, you are worthless Y/N, you destroyed my marriage and now you'll pay, you'll s-" 

Carlos was interrupted mid sentence when Javier elbowed his ribs as hard as he could, ignoring completely his police training that was clear when it said the agents should keep calm in a dangerous situation, he just went to action. He didn't give a shit if Murphy wanted to follow the protocol, he wouldn't stand there and watch that motherfucker talk to you like that, let alone try to hurt you. 

Carlos dropped the sharp bottleneck and gasped for air, as you ran away from his grip and didn't know what to do. 

He immediately turned to Javier, all his anger focused on the man, as they began a real dog fight, Carlos threw a few punches at Javier, but he stepped over the spilled wine and fell onto the floor. Peña didn't think twice before kicking him, not caring if he was already down. Carlos managed to stand up even though he struggled and laughed softly as found you pressed against the wall, watching the scene with horror in your eyes. 

"You're scared now? Don't be, malparida. Save your scared look for when I'm fucking all of your tight pretty holes until you are crying and bleeding and whimpering for your manwhore prince charming to save you" he said darkly "I'll do you worse than any Escobar men would" 

Everybody went silent when you heard the click of a gun's safety. Carlos went dead quiet when he felt the cold metal against his neck. 

You could barely believe the scene of Javier standing there, pointing a gun at a fellow cop just to defend you. Murphy also tried to calm the both of them down, but at that moment you felt as if you'd gone deaf. All you could hear was Javier's words. 

"Turn around, Carlos. Turn around nice and slowly" he commanded in a surprisingly calm voice and the disgusting man who had just been making horrible threats looked like a scared stray dog, obeying Javier, he meet his angry eyes.

"Now you listen to me… you will never get near Y/N again, got it? Never!!! You will never step into the same room she's in, you will never call her those things, got it? She's not a puta, she's not a whore, she's not a cum dumpster… You deserved what happened to you and if you make Y/N slightly uncomfortable I'll shoot you in the face" Javi lowered his aim a little, now his gun pointed right between Carlos' eyes. 

"I'll do you worse than Escobar men would"

The man went completely silent as he remained at Javier's gunpoint. 

No matter how many times Murphy and other people that arrived just in time to watch the grotesque scene asked Peña to calm down. He would still hold his gun against Carlos, the waves of rage flowing through his body as he thought of every second of what that animal had done to you. 

His heart was racing with adrenaline and he felt an urge to pull the trigger. 

He just came back to his senses when he felt a soft, warm hand on his arm, looking at it and recognizing the pretty nails done just like he loved observing. 

"Javi… put the gun down please" 

Your voice calling his name after so long of being ignored. He wasn't Peña, he wasn't Javier. He was Javi. He was your Javi again, at least that was what he hoped for. 

He looked at you and saw your scared eyes, finally putting his gun down just like you'd asked for and nodded at you. 

"It's okay, it's over now, cariño, I'm here to protect you" 

_____

A/N: did you guys go soft for Javi now?

[imfinereallyy]

The Long Con

I saw this tik tok edit of Rachel McAdams in the movie Hot Chick where she gets a milkshake on house (and she's just totally playing the guy) and for some odd reason this spiraled me into thinking about Conman!Steve and Mob Boss!Eddie. So here is my brainrot I guess. Maybe I'll do more parts or make something longer on ao3 if people like it.

Steve wasn't one to not think things through. Yes, he was aware that it was a double negative. He played up the dumb part quite often, but Steve wasn't actually stupid. So it was all part of the game, really.

Steve loved the game. The rush, the push, and the pull of tricking someone, getting them for all their worth. Steve loved the game because it was fun. Steve loved the game because he got to use horrible people for his very lavish lifestyle. There was nothing like living rich by feeding off the rich. Well, he was trying to do that, at least. See, Steve, although good at what he did, he burned through money faster than you could say savings. It wasn't his fault, really. He used to be better at keeping track. Always made sure to have enough, just in case. Hadn't needed to worry about anyone but himself. Because the only thing Steve truly loved for a long time was the game itself.

But then he met people along the way, misfits and criminals like himself that he couldn't help spoiling. The only person who seemed to catch his problem was Robin, but even she couldn't resist a new hard drive for her computer. It's how she made her own money, after all.

Despite his problem with spoiling everyone, Steve always thought things through. He followed the rules of the game without rules and continued to fill his pockets, scamming the deserving and cruel. But sometimes, sometimes for Steve... his abilities and bad habits sometimes, well, overlapped. Sometimes, Steve could have been better at choosing the right people to care about. He was getting better at it, he swears. He let go of the wrong ones a long, long time ago.

But sometimes they came back begging.

Tommy had been someone from his life before. Before being on his own, back when purple and blue were his father's favorite colors to paint him with. It was a time before the game, a time that, although he tries to forget, had a grip on him.

So when Tommy called, seeking forgiveness, seeking help, Steve caved quickly. He would always be that same little boy, looking for love from a past that wasn't there. Tommy wasn't his parents, sure, but it was as close as he would get.

So, yes, steve normally thought things through, but there was the rare occasion, there was the exception to the rule, where Steve majorly fucked up.

He was in Boston when it happened. Even though years ago, Steve swears he would never be going back. He's in a small diner two blocks away from main street. And he had just finished getting Tommy's money back. Steve always celebrated with one of three things: drinks, sex, or milkshakes.

And Steve wanted out of Boston as fast as possible, so he went for his quickest and sometimes tastiest tradition.

"How much do I owe you?" Steve smiled innocently at the waiter, giving his best babygirl face.

The waiter bit his lips as he tried not to stare at Steve's mouth, "It's okay, it's on the house."

Steve licked part of his free milkshake off his finger, "Really?" Steve's voice was an octave higher just for the waiter. He could tell he was someone who had a preference for men, and most likely had a problem with letting go of his masculinity. So Steve knew the more feminine, the better. Steve couldn't help the sly grin that stretched across his face when the waiter got flustered. He was an attention whore; sue him.

His waiter—huh, Andy, according to his name tag—looked like he was about to say something when a throat cleared behind him.

"Andy, doll, you might be wanting to get back to the kitchen for a minute." A deep voice said behind Andy. It sent chills down Steve's spine. The Boston accent with a slight tilt of Irish was enough to captivate him. Andy moved faster than the speed of light at the command.

When Andy disappeared, with his tail between his legs no less, the most beautiful man Steve's ever seen revealed himself. A tall, pale, curly brunette stood before him in a suit with a ripped-up band tee underneath. It shouldn't look good, and it shouldn't look professional, but it did. Steve saw tattoos peeking out from exposed skin, piercings all over his ears, and enough jewelry to start a store. Steve was bewitched.

The mystery man smiled, hands in his pockets, and leaned down slightly into Steve's space. "Oh, sweetheart, I have been looking for you everywhere."

Steve stayed silent, drinking him in; he smelt of mint, smoke, and morning rain.

The man slid into the booth, put his arms on the table, and made a little beat with his knuckles on the plastic. Then, Steve noticed the words "Hell Fire" across his knuckles. Steve's heart sunk to his stomach. He had heard of those hands before. Those hands were famous.

The man leaned his face against his right fist. "Hell" pushed into his cheekbone. "The name is Eddie Munson, love." Eddie looked Steve up and down. "But I think you've already figured that out by now, haven't ya?"

Steve steeled himself. He should be okay. He hadn't wronged this man before, but something, something was telling Steve that he most definitely had. The look in his sweet abyss of eyes told him as much.

A smirk stretched across Eddie's face, and suddenly he kicked the leather bag next to Steve's feet under the table. Steve's cheek twitched slightly for a millisecond, but it was enough to give him away. "It seems here... like you and Hagan have stolen quite a bit of money from me." Eddie tsk-tsked while Steve's heart dropped from his stomach to his feet. Tommy screwed him.

"And that love, well, that just won't do."Steve had never seen such a sweet smile feel so deadly. "So, Sunshine, I am going to make you a deal, and you would be smart to take it."

Steve wasn't actually dumb, but yes, he most definitely did not think this through.

________

Sooo thoughts? I was going to write more but if this was a flop, I didn't want to put my heart in soul into it. But I did spiral a bit with it. Whoops!

edit: I made some grammatical changes but that's it. I realized I kept switching tense changes when I was writing in present, so I changed it to past. I'm much more comfortable with it. Let me know if there are any more errors.

part 2: here

[pixydustworld]

The marriage law was announced at 2pm on a Tuesday.

By 2:15 Hermione had already drafted a motion to dismiss the law entirely. It was a good motion, too. If she’d sent a copy to Ron, he would’ve replied with: wow! lots of words! good stuff!

At 2:17 her motion was denied.

“It’s best to just accept defeat.” Malfoy said from his side of the office, bookshelves neat, papers all stacked in order. “You won’t win this one.”

“I’m not in the habit of giving up.” Hermione snapped. Her side of the office was cluttered, less pristine. Her bookshelf had a nasty habit of overflowing all over the floor, stacks of books balancing precariously on every surface. “A fire hazard.” Malfoy had sneered at her once, “Breaking several codes.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said, “I hadn’t noticed.” He was smiling softly, like he’d just told the funniest joke in the world. Waiting, almost patiently for her to smile. Stupid man with his stupid grin, Hermione wanted to throw a book at his head.

“This is archaic.” Hermione hissed. “The Ministry has gone too far. They can't force us to marry anyone.”

Even as she spoke, a squirming feeling of doubt was beginning to take root in her chest — being friends with Harry came with many things. Companionship and love, but it also came with a healthy distrust of the government (like a free gift basket! but terrible one).

Malfoy ignored her complaints. "Marriage Acts aren't as mid-evil as you're making them out to be." He said, with that annoying voice he used when he knew he was right about something, "They serve a purpose."

"A purpose?" Hermione could practically feel the beginnings of an aneurysm. A fitting death, slumped over her desk, surrounded by unfinished documents and discovered by Draco Malfoy, "Are you actually defending this?"

She would have to find a new partner. A new office, one where he wasn't constantly surrounding her, swimming on the edge of her peripheral vision. Maybe Dean Thomas would let her set up a current workplace in his records closet, he was always bragging about how it was big enough for him to take naps in during work —

"No." Malfoy said, somehow even more amused now, "I don't support it."

"Oh." Hermione said, very eloquently, "That's good."

"But," Malfoy continued, still distinctly unruffled while Hermione was very ruffled, "Most people will be unfazed. It's a Pure-Blood tradition. My parents have always planned to arrange a marriage contract.” Malfoy shrugged, “It’s not absolutely unheard of.”

“Well," Hermione said, out of breath from all the pacing she was doing, "Your parents are terrible.”

“Of course.” Malfoy said, like it was obvious. “They would never allow me the opportunity to sully the Malfoy name. Producing the correct heir is the only thing I’ll ever be good at.”

Hermione frowned. “Hearing about your family isn’t good for our working relationship. It makes me feel bad for you.”

“We can’t have that.” Malfoy said.

“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “we can’t have that.”

“So, tell me Granger. What is your plan?” His grin became less self indulgent, more fake. “You’ll have to marry someone. It'll undoubtably be the event of the season — have a fiancé you’ve been hiding from me?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “Do you think I could hide anything from you?”

Malfoy knew when she changed the scent of her shampoo, when she switched up her coffee order — he even knew if she was sleeping less than usual. It was impossibly annoying to be around someone so observant, someone so intent on cataloguing her every move.

"If I had a secret fiancé, which I don't, I'm confident that you're competent enough to have sniffed him out by now."

Malfoy responding grin was slow and syrupy. "You think I'm competent?"

“Piss off, Malfoy.”

“Is he shorter than me? Is that it? Didn’t want to introduce us because you knew he’d feel bad?”

“You’re taller than everyone.” Hermione said, annoyed, again, “You would obviously be taller than my imaginary fiancé. You’re like an angelic giraffe.”

“You think I’m angelic?”

“No.”

"Two compliments on top of each other, are you feeling alright, Granger?"

"Shut up."

At 2:20, Hermione began to clean her side of the office, desperate for an excuse not to talk to Malfoy.

At 2:22, Harry slammed through her door, completely demolishing the (very little) progress Hermione had made in cleaning up her side of the office.

“I’ll marry you.” Harry said, slightly out of breath, like he’d sprinted all the way to her office, “Do you think we can kiss without making a face? We’ll have to practice.”

“I’m not marrying you.” Hermione said from the floor behind her desk, “You are engaged to Theo.” She was laying on her back with a book covering her face, feeling rightfully sorry for herself.

“Theo won’t mind.” Harry said in the voice he reserved for whenever he wanted people to listen to him (i am harry potter! and i did not spill mustard on the couch! you have to believe me, i saved the world!) “It will be quick. I can get us rings before the day is over.”

"No." Hermione said, still on the floor, "I've gone along with enough of your stupid ideas. This is too much."

Because, despite it all, Harry would do this. Without hesitation, blind loyalty and unwavering determination — Harry would marry her and be pleased with his choices. He was lovely, but at times, Harry could be a misguided idiot.

"This is where you draw the line?" Malfoy hummed, "Interesting to catch a glimpse into the inner workings of your mind."

Finally scrambling to her feet (after a few more seconds of wallowing) Hermione was horrified to find a familiar look on Harry's face — one that promised something stupid.

"I'll figure it out. " Harry said, with a shrug that reminded Hermione of their childhood (occidentally, the stress headache she was feeling also reminded her of their childhood). He pointed a stoic finger at her. "Don't make a face when I kiss you."

Then, he left.

“Theo wouldn’t mind,” Malfoy said in a helpful voice, “He’d probably marry you as well. Would it be Granger-Potter-Nott? Or Granger-Nott-Potter? Better figure that out soon. Potter seems eager to find those rings.”

Hermione threw a book at his head.

Malfoy caught it with ease, his stupid Quidditch hands.

“I have an idea,” Malfoy said after a moment.

Hermione ignored him. “There has to be a way out of this.” She was pacing again, sensible shoes kicked off to the corner (where she’d undoubtedly forget them) “I could write another motion? A longer one this time. With more quotes.”

“Marry me instead.”

Hermione stopped pacing. “Excuse me?”

“I’m your best option.”

“I have many options —

“Weasley already tricked someone into marrying him and Potter is engaged to my only friend.” He frowned, in a mocking sort of way. “Did I leave anyone out?”

“No.” Hermione said flatly. “You didn’t.”

“Alright then. Marry me.”

“Hah.” She said, “Hah. I take back everything I’ve ever said about you. Malfoy, you are funny.”

“I’m being serious.” He said, looking annoyed. Fantastic, they were both annoyed. Like they always were.

“We can get married before the law passes and then you can do what you do best.” Malfoy continued, like that was a totally normal thing to say.

“Which is?” Without her shoes, the height difference was unbearably noticeable. She had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. At some point he'd stopped being a willowy wraith of a person and began the unfortunate process of filling out.

He didn’t look away. “Destroy everyone’s expectations and free the downtrodden.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “What would you get out of this arrangement?”

Malfoy shrugged, too practiced to be nonchalant. “I’d be married to a war hero. It would do wonders for my reputation.”

“And you would be married to me.” Hermione said, beginning to feel like this was getting too real, “We both know that would never happen.”

“Never?”

“Never.” She agreed.

He wasn’t smiling that lazy smile from before, this one was different. Sharper. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“Besides,” Hermione continued on loudly, “you’re no gentleman. No need to pretend. I don’t need saving, I’ll figure this out myself.”

“You don’t need to.” Malfoy said, “I will help. I want to fuck over the Ministry for many reasons, but mainly because they declined your motion.”

He was on her side of the office now, leaning casually against her desk, inches away from where she stood. He was too pretty up close, like staring at the sun.

“It was very good.” Hermione breathed.

Malfoy nodded, almost too good at pretending to be sincere.

“I’m sure it was good. You touched it. Everything you touch is golden.”

“You truly want to help me?”

“I’ve only offered several times.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “All to fuck over the Ministry? No other reason?”

“Maybe I want you all to myself.”

Hermione's eye twitched.

"Don't tease me." She managed to hiss. "Not about this."

She saw when he realized, a flicker of excitement in his eyes — when he noticed her apparent misery at how completely and helplessly she was drawn to him.

"I'd never dream of it." Malfoy said warmly, "You could kill me with ease, only an idiot would be careless around you."

She thought of all the long nights they spent together, crammed in their tiny little office. How she looked forward to her day, if only to see his stupidly pointy face. How she tried to date, but couldn’t. Because it wasn’t right — her dates were too kind, too short.

Not him.

How, through everything, he was the first person she thought of in the morning, the person she thought of in the darkness of the night, when no one could see her wandering hands — the person she looked at for a challenge, for relief and support.

Despite her best attempts, Hermione Granger had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy and now, here he was, seeming to share in her suffering.

“We’d have to consummate the marriage.” She said, giving him one last out. “You’d have to see me naked.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“I’m very bossy,” she said, “and I work all the time.”

“Good thing we share an office.”

“I’m not easy to love.”

Malfoy scoffed. “It’s been easy enough for me.”

He was close enough to touch, so uncharacteristically open. Looking down at her with fondness she didn’t know he possessed.

“I’m selfish.” Malfoy warned, “Do not forget that. I will help you destroy this law and anything else you want. Burn it all down if you want to. But I won’t be letting you go. Not now, after I've gotten you."

“I suppose that’s fine.” Hermione said softly, watching as his hand moved to touch her face, warm against her skin. "It'll be bearable to be around you, I suppose."

As he held her face in his hands, Hermione watched as his grin transform into something different, something new — a smile she'd only seen glimpses of, one only for her. "I'll work very hard to make our marriage a tolerable one." He said.

"Good," Hermione breathed, stretching up to kiss him, to finally press her lips against his, "I can't wait."

Hermione was married at 3pm on a Tuesday.

It was a small ceremony.

Harry, although he'd never publicly admit it, was relieved.

Despite his best attempts, he would've made a face when Hermione had kissed him.

[haru-natsuka]

Not funny (Floyd Leech x Female Reader)

Genre: Romance

Usually, Floyd would enjoy squeezing others but what if it was his girlfriend who did so?...

I got the idea when I kept on pondering over Floyd's habit of squeezing other students. So, how would you actually feel if your boyfriend hugged others? Did that mean you, his girlfriend was equal to others? It was a relief NRC is a boy school. This fanfic is kind of revenge from you to Floyd. Enjoy~~~

Azul was getting furious and more furious as Floyd kept on throwing tantrums during his work on very peak hours. We were talking about business now and it would be a loss for Floyd bad service! Every now and then, Floyd would say he was not in the mood to do the work as he was busy glaring and shooing at his schoolmates who had been given a hug by his girlfriend. That was not how it works in Mostro Lounge should be done! Even his beloved goldfish aka Riddle had make its way to his hated list when you literally beat Floyd first in hugging Riddle.

Floyd's heart kind of clenched in pain upon witnessing your arms circled tightly around Riddle's waist, head laid gently on his chest and what with the voice you used seductively saying you caught the Heartslabyul dorm head. Your voice should be his! Your body should be his! Were you playing around by having affairs while claiming his to be yours too? Floyd would never accept this kind of harem! He should be the one to squeeze you which was different from the scene he was watching certainly!

"Riddle~ hugging you is the best. Your height is just so perfect for meee"

A tray full of glasses shuttered on the ground as Floyd threw it angrily when he saw you rubbing your head on Riddle's chest. As Riddle being himself who had zero control over the situation, of course, his face had turned as red as tomato upon you being so clingy with him. He would not be someone who used such affection and he could really do nothing as his unique magic would be futile to you and the fault behind your sudden change in behaviour was not laying with yours made things harder for him. Therefore, he could do nothing except weakly ask you to stop before an eel came for his life.

Unfortunately, Floyd already stomped towards the direction of you and Riddle. His eyes flashed with enormous enragement while his mouth was curved into a maniac smile. His left arm was brought towards his right shoulder out of habit whenever he felt like he could strangle someone. One goldfish might die tonight.

"Do you want to be squeezed so much goldfish? I can do the honour instead of someone else girlfriend"

With the help from the other students, Riddle was much alive luckily. However, someone still needed to be the sacrificing lamb as you would never be affectionate towards another than your boyfriend. You must be under a spell. By midnight, when you returned to the normal you, you hugged Floyd all the time and asked for forgiveness from him as you felt rather guilty although you did squeeze others with being under a spell.

"I'll only forgive you if you tell me who is behind the incident"

"Promise me you would not kill them" You reluctantly told everything you could remember before you were cast with the spell. Let's just say the next day, Ace, Deuce and Grim got a lot of loving hugs from Floyd as he basically chase after them whenever they came into contact.

"It is not funny for getting Y/N getting involve with the three of your stupidity..."

Although the incident gave a bitter experience to some students, we could say you took advantage of it as you knew now how possessive Floyd was over you. At least you did not feel jealous anymore whenever Floyd shared his loving hug with other students as you knew how to counter his action back.

"If you squeeze Riddle again, I greatly have the right to do the same!" You claimed as you saw Floyd about to hug his goldfish again.

"Are you kidding me now, Y/N" You are much braver to threaten Floyd now. The situation ended up with both of you hugging each other whenever another person was about to squeeze another student. It was a happy ending we could say or not for Azul who needed to bear the weirdos couple as part of his life.

[honey-tragedy]

a least to most likely list of which of the robins would hide injuries

dick, is surprisingly the least likely to hide injuries. he got told sence he was able to walk and do stunts that improperly cared for injuries could not only harm him but other performers and thats stuck with him. add in being the leader of the teen titans and trying to set a good example for them, hes fully open with his injuries when hes hurt.

--dick has a spread sheet of injury and when he got them, he thinks it funny

tim is the second least likely to hide injuries, now this is only because in the first year or two of being robin haveing a infection or improperly cared for wound would take him out of the field and away from doing damage control with bruce. and now its just a habit too keep track of his injuries

---tim would hid older injuries that wouldn't effects his field capabilities (spleen spleen spleen) but not anything recent or pressing

up next is duke! duke as the leader of the we are robins thing has had to deal with idiots under his command hideing injuries and he refuses to add that stress onto bruce and alfred. he knows how annoying and worrying it is to have to wonder if your people are actually field ready or lieing too you.

--he would only hid injuries if they came from civilian life or for a stupid thing like triping off a roof or swinging into a wall, but like tim he wouldnt if it was something big or would affect his capabilities

steph is next up, were edgeing into would definitely hide shit, steph does not see bruce as a parent and barely sees him as a boss. shes a latch key kid with a terrible dad and a try her best but not get mom, no way in hell would she come out with injuries outload but she would let alfred treat her if it came up. prefers to go to Leslie cause she trusts her more, and as such bruce usually only hears about her injuries after the fact.

---steph fully mocks bruce that if he was the worlds greatest detective he would know when shes hurt, goes to Leslie or alfred if its really bad

this was a toss up, but damian is next, assassins dont really lend them selves to being good people to tell that your injured, even the ones ment to serve you. damian is basically allergic to telling anyone anything is actually wrong with him ever, unless its him and bruce one of one. bruce is essentially the only person he trusts enough to admit hes injured.

--getting damian to admit hes injured is like trying to give a feral cat a bath, no one likes doing it but its necessary sometimes

jason!! second to last on the list, jason would actually fully chew off his own leg then tell the bats hes injured ever. not only because he doesn't trust 90% of them not to use it to fuck him over, but also because bruce will become simultaneously the most helicopter parent and the emotional brick wall the second he knows Jason's hurt, its honestly worse then being shot to see him try and ground jason like hes still a child, while also being full emotional brick wall batman mode

--jason has pushed tim down the bottomless pit in the cave before just so he could bolt before bruce could quarantine him in the cave cause he got hurt, jason would fully fist fight his way out of the batfam then ever admit hes hurt

and to round it off cass! cass will slink away to hide and lick her wound and you would never know shes hurt unless she lets you. raised as a weapon i dont think David cain was the kinda person to treat an injury with anything other then disappointment, and cass still sees her own injury as failures in her training. shes fully capable of doing most of her own medical care and useing it to her advantage in avoiding telling anyone her injuries.

--cass broke her arm once and as soon as it was put in a cast no one saw her tell it was fully healed. not even bruce is sure where she was or what she was doing during those months

[defilerwyrm]

Oh, Alcohol.

Barenaked Ladies saved me from a life (and possibly death) as an alcoholic.

Let me explain:

My first official, tax-paying job as as a mutuel teller at a horse track in the mid aughts. I worked for $8.15/hour most of the year and during live season (when races were taking place at my track) they bumped it up to $8.50. During live race nights, I could easily pull in $100 in tips in a night.

You would have thought that a nearly-homeless college dropout trapped in a relationship he didn’t yet fully realize was extremely abusive would have squirreled that away to make a better life for himself, but no. My coworkers (including The Ex From Hell) liked to go drinking at the restaurant/bar across the highway from the track after live race nights—twice a week—and I, being starved for company and having TEFH as my only ride home, went with them.

It was always a jolly old time. I drank so many mudslides & flying grasshoppers and ate so many mozzarella sticks you wouldn’t believe. My regular bartender and I (and that phrase should set off alarm bells in your head already) developed a new drink! It’s still one of my favorites. Here, let me share it with you:

AQUA VELVET 2 parts blue curaçao 2 parts Midori (melon liqueur) 1 part pineapple juice spritz of Sprite Shake with ice, strain, serve cold in a hurricane glass.

Fucking incredible drink.

But yeah. I drank pretty heavily every night we went out. Drank until I got loose and loopy and extremely homosexual. Drank until I didn’t care about the dysphoria I was trying to ignore and the mental illness & traumas I couldn’t afford to get help for. Until, for just a few hours, I was happy.

And then one night as “Closing Time” by Semisonic played on the speaker system and I received my solo bill, I really looked at it and realized I’d spent literally all of my tip money for that day’s work. I spent over $100 on alcohol in one sitting—in 2007 or 2008 money, on an $8.50/hour wage. Moreover, I’d drank over a hundred dollars worth of booze specifically for the goal of getting drunk and staying that way.

As a sidebar, one of the many things wrong with me is moderate/severe OCD. My most intrusive symptom is endomusia—music stuck in my head…every…waking…moment. As in, I can tell when I’ve woken up because that’s when the music starts. (In a fascinating twist, my father and brother both suffer this, too.) Any little thing that I see or hear or think about could set off a new song playing on repeat in my head.

And in that moment, looking at that staggering total on my receipt for the night, I heard Barenaked Ladies jamming their way through a syncopated bridge:

I thought that drinking just to get drunk was a waste of precious booze

Had it not been for that song, I would not have known that drinking to get drunk on a regular basis was a classic sign of alcoholism. But because I knew and loved that song, and because I had that moment of crystalline clarity at something like one in the morning, I realized that I had a fucking problem and I needed to stop.

I am immeasurably lucky that I came to this realization before my alcoholism developed into an actual dependency instead just of a deeply stupid bad habit I did for fun twice a week. I don’t take for granted that it could have been the end of me if not for that single moment. As much horrific shit as has happened to me in my life, holy fuck have I ever gotten some lucky breaks.

I don’t drink much nowadays, and haven’t for almost a decade. I don’t really like how it makes me feel most of the time. I just finished a top shelf margarita before writing this, in the safety of my own home, and it’s—I think the second alcoholic drink I’ve had this year.

So yeah. Music saves lives, y’all.

[kill-the-hand-of-shakespeare]

“Unknown”

7

———————

Aziraphale took a deep breath, and cleared his throat. He pulled at the hem of his waistcoat, and then cleared his throat again. He searched the bookshop with flittering eyes- trying to find solace in ‘home’. He did not.

He knew every little detail of this bookshop. It was his, and he had seen every millimetre of it. He knew it better than his own corporation. But now, after months being gone, it felt... odd. Like he was a guest in his own home- like he knew it all too well, but didn’t have the right to it. He guessed that’s what humans must have felt when they sold a home or left a job and came back- like it is no longer theirs, but was so wholly before.

He smoothed the off-white fabric on his thighs, partly because he hadn’t before he sat down, and in part to wipe the sweat that gathered on his palms. Nervous - a rock sat heavy in the bottom of his stomach and his searching eyes found Crowley’s profile.

The demon was doing that ‘thing’ - Aziraphale hadn’t come up with a name for it, but Crowley used to do it before he wore (invented?) glasses.

He found a far off object to look at, squinted his eyes a little and made them unfocused- a far away look that hid all the emotion he could without hiding behind shades of black. The Angel had once thought that the glasses were simply to hide his snake-like eyes from humans. He’d been so oblivious. Those gold eyes held so much of Crowley’s thoughts- the glasses were there to keep him stone cold, unreadable to the world.

Aziraphale bit the inside of his cheek, and turned to face Crowley a bit more- knocking their knees together. Both him and Crowley quickly yelped apologies out of anxious habit, and Aziraphale had half a mind to pull his knee away. But that was quickly overcome by the need to be close. To touch. It had been so long since he had been in someones bubble after eons of constant closeness.

Heaven was stoic. Cold. Everyone kept to themselves, hands clasped tightly behind their backs, crossed fingers hidden as they spoke. Their smiles never reached their eyes. The lower ranked angels were sweet, but never had time to chat- busy bees doing their work. It left Aziraphale’s palms itchy- he had learned to touch Crowley so easily...

Aziraphale stared at their knees for a moment, Crowley’s hands in his lap, nails digging crescent indents into the skin. He wanted to slide his palm against the demons, smooth away the hurt, relax him and comfort him, but didn’t know how. He didn’t know if he was allowed.

Aziraphale was a bad Angel. Or maybe a good one- he couldn’t tell; he was just really damn good at playing stupid. Being around Crowley had become easy, the more comfortable he had pretended he was, the more comfortable he actually ended up being. What was that human saying again? Oh yes- “fake it until you make it.” The Angel was good at that.

He would be able to read just about anyone, Angel, demon, human or... otherwise, and quickly give them what they wanted. Crowley included.

If this was ‘before’, when things were simple and they tip-toed around each other and their only intimacy was loving glances. Aziraphale would have said something random, and then gently took Crowley’s hand into his own and patted it, forcing his hand to relax. The demon always lounged, but now he sat too tense, even as he slouched with bad posture. The Angel wished he could think up a way to relax him- but everything was a subtle touch, and they were both too aware of each other to play dumb. Even the legs that lingered close were tense with precaution.

Aziraphale cleared his throat again and watched Crowley’s jaw tense in a flinch, it broke his heart.

“Oh, Crowley...” he whispered softly, the demon closing his eyes tight, swallowing hard. Aziraphale could tell hearing his name from the Angels lips hurt. “I had so much time to think about all the things I would say... But now they all feel... As if they’re not enough.” Aziraphale said, hearing the strain in his own voice. He couldn’t hide it. And didn’t know if he wanted to.

“Well, if you have nothing to say, I have things I could be doing.” The demon snapped, trying to be aggressive, but his heart wasn’t in it- it was to deflect; to try and rid of his own feelings and thoughts. The fact that the demon did not move away, said so much. He had learnt to read Crowley’s body language like any of his books, carefully and meticulously, paying attention to what was unsaid; in between the lines. Aziraphale took a deep breath. He would say what he needed to.

“Crowley,” he started, “I don’t forgive you.”

———————

Anni oop-!

Sorry for the long wait for an update, the holidays and some personal things got in the way. Enjoy this cliffhanger, and feel free to leave predictions 😈 I’d love to see what ya’ll think!

Lots of love, tho. I won’t hurt you... too bad.

< Previous Next >

[queenkenzo24]

Greetings to all you call the midwife fans. I wanted to give some clarification on the poll I created about Miss Higgins. I’ve spent a long time thinking deeply on how I wanted to word this in a way that makes my opinion clear in a meaningful way without sounding mean.First of all, thank you to everyone who gave thoughtful and detailed responses to my poll and their insights on the character Miss Higgins. I wanted to clarify that my dislike of this character in no way is me trying to discredit Heidi Thomas and all the beautiful things she’s created. This will however provide some criticism on how she’s written and how I think her character could be improved. Before my poll, I genuinely thought Miss Higgins was a character that was intended to be disliked. I thought the point of her character was that she was constantly being made fun of to the point where no one liked her. Obviously I was wrong in that assumption. I understand my generalization of just calling her annoying and rude in my poll was an overstatement made when I thought that was obvious. Since it isn’t obvious, I want to go into my reasoning for disliking this character.

A lot of the reasons I don’t like Miss Higgins actually boil down to the fact that I think her character has shown little growth in her time on the show. Someone on my poll commented that she was only mean to Shelagh at the beginning of her time on it because they had disagreements about record keeping. I don’t see this hatred as something that is only limited towards her first few episodes, or something that is only directed towards record keeping purposes. To be fair, a lot of their disagreements do seem to be record keeping based, but I don’t think Miss Higgins handles these nicely. There’s a polite way to ask for your policies to be respected, and then there’s what she does. She’s constantly scowling any time Shelagh wants to look at records, rudely telling her that her way of handling the Asian records were ineffective, and scowling when anyone asks for Shelagh’s organizational help(she got so upset when Sister Julienne went to Shelagh for help typing up and printing satisfaction questionnaires). Shelagh isn’t stupid, untrustworthy, or bad with records. She was Dr Turners receptionist for years before Miss Higgins came along. Miss Higgins also seems to have a disdain for Shelagh and Patrick’s relationship. When Patrick gave Shelagh flowers after seeing the Sound of Music, Miss Higgins practically scowled at them. In season 13 episode 1(Spoilers I guess) Miss Higgins looked pissed off just because she walked in on them being all cute as they ate lunch together. It feels as though whenever Miss Higgins sees them being a normal couple doing cute couple things, it makes her angry. Here’s where the growth element comes into it. I was expecting after a while of her being on the show of someone talking to her about this issue she seems to have with Shelagh. I was expecting that Phyllis, or maybe even Timothy, was going to pull her aside and ask her what her issue was with Shelagh(and also her relationship with Patrick) I saw an excellent fic once where this happened and Phyllis figured out that Miss Higgins was judging them because of the rumors she heard years ago about Shelagh being a nun and the improper things that might have happened between her and Patrick. I saw another fic where Trixie pointed out to her how hard Shelagh was working raising 3 young children(and obviously Timothy but he’s older) at the same time as she’s working so hard as a nurse and it changed her whole perspective and attitude towards Shelagh. A conversation like this would certainly be uncomfortable, but it would provide growth.

Another opportunity I feel they missed out on showing growth was when Miss Higgins stayed at Nonnatus house. She seemed to make everyone uncomfortable and had several habits that made her hard to live with. I wish a conversation had taken place where Phyllis pointed out to her that she was being horrible. Demanding your friends make you special meals(which you then complain about), taking long baths when there’s a roster, and forcing everyone to listen to your instruments when no one asked to listen to them are not polite roommate behavior. Her music is another opportunity where growth could be shown. She seems to have no concept of peoples lack of interest in her musical abilities( when that’s even obvious to the girl with autism that’s embarrassing). Phyllis really seemed embarrassed by the fact that Phyllis wanted to do a history of woodwind instruments for the talent show and yet at no time did they show her having a conversation where she voiced that concern. These conversations are really hard. Trust me, I’ve had more than enough hard conversations about social cues and polite behavior as someone with autism. It’s never fun. But those conversations would provide growth to a character that I don’t feel has changed very much in the time she’s been on the show.

Now let’s talk about things that don’t excuse her behavior. I don’t think her being raised in India changes how her behavior should be seen. Do you know who was also brought up in India? Chummy. While being a little socially awkward, Chummy doesn’t have any of the same issues with being a nice, polite, courteous human being. I’ve seen a lot of people say that her personality flaws can be looked past because she grew up in India. Growing up in India doesn’t give you an excuse to be a jerk. The other excuse for her behavior I’ve seen is that she’s just a quirky character that a lot of people in this fandom can relate to. Being quirky also doesn’t excuse you being rude. We should hold everyone to the same standards of being polite and kind people no matter what. Other characters in the series get backlash for their objectivity rude behavior. Chummy had Sister Evangelina to(sometimes unfairly) call out her behavior and push her towards growth. When Patsy was first on the show, she was shown to be not very conscious of the feelings of the mothers she was treating. She was a bit brash and wasn’t very comforting to them. She was quickly told that her behavior wasn’t great, and it was uncomfortable, but she learned and grew from that situation. That’s what I really want for Miss Higgins. For someone to push back against her behavior and cause her to change and grow.

In conclusion(I legit feel like that’s such a high school English paper thing to say but it works) I feel like Miss Higgins actually has potential to be a decent character, but she has too many flaws that have been overlooked and remained unchanged to the point where it’s made her an unbearable character for me to watch in Call the Midwife. I hope her character can improve, but I’m honestly loosing hope of that at this point.

I hope that this all made sense. I tried so hard to keep this concise(obviously I failed at that but I have lots of opinions) and well thought out. I really don’t mind if anyone likes Miss Higgins. It’s simply a difference of opinion that I know I can’t change. I just really wanted to show why I feel the way I do.

[itsmarsss]

me reading the chapter actuauly

ogm omfgdsjg; d i cant this is so much blitzo constantly thinking of readers words and them lingering in his mind omg i need them to make up i cannot stand this wht he hell he think that no one will be there to cross out the o but i guarantee reader with her saggy ass and titties (as an old lady) would cross the rings to do so

him hating the weekend sfngdg i canot your depictions of him feel so in character it makes me think you are a writer for the show i cannot believe that this fic is literally changing my life (for the better) ofmfks

SEEING THAT TEY TEXTED CONSISTENLY AND IT MADE HIM NOT HATE WEEKENDS AS MUCHDSG and they made it a habit to spend the weeksends together to hate them less i cannot stnat this omsg my heart

"Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs" this took me out SO BAD lmfao i just stared at my screen like

BUT THEN IMEDDIENYL HAD TO TURN AWAY BC OF THE "PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT FOLDER"

mars when i actch you mars i will fnaf jumpscare you irl this is not it. BABRIE AND HIS MOM WHAT IF I BROKE DOWN??? THEN YOU FOLLOW IT UP WITH "blitz is a 35year old single father who kills people...But in this moment… he just wants his mama." LIKE??? HOW DARE YOU ???? THAT IS SUCH A SORE SPOT BC I FEEL LIKE CRYING EVERYTIME I HEAR AB OLD POPEL MISSING THEIR PARENTS AND IT SLIKE FUGHG crying as i think ab it actually whi cant stand this

then his thought process the whole party omg he literally just wanted an escape to not feel. i cant do this anymore him asking loona to call him dad i crided

then when they leave he pulls out his phone to draw and i jsut sdjfdg i died

NOW FOR THE CONVO WITH STOLAS?? UFHH you probably grabbed it from the many ss of their messages that are shown but still omg his immediate backtracking made me want to pull my hair out bc no thats not how you talk UGHHH

then him asking loona if she would be there when he is old and she is like "ill be there dad" i cant i fucking hate this show why would they do that to me (then he vomits)

literally me after reading blitz portion

FIZZ FIDNING READER OGM he must've felt bad bc he was liek "fuckk that was the chick with blitz and stolas oph shit fuck cock"

reader having no one other than ozzie (in that moment) to go to ufhg (get this woman some friends) and their whole convo what if i

her asking ozzie if he thinks she stupid bc blitz words are echoing in her mind just as much as hers did in his omg i need them to kiss and make up please someone grow communcation skills FUCKING

stolas message with her is so late i cant stand this i think i wills start fcrying again

also her expecting a "fuck you" message from blitz only to get something that made her feel better mars stop this

this is madness when i get you i am shaking you really hard LMFAO

anyways those are my thoughts plz tell my u times this bc idk how long this took

this is the most in-depth comment anyone's ever sent me for my writing and i actually wanna cry

every time you talk about how invested in this you are and how much you love it i feel like crying djmdjmvjfk its just like i cant believe someone would care enough to leave me THIS this is so cool and so fucking nice!!

the thing about how he used to hate weekends because it meant he'd be alone and how he stopped hating them once reader came into his life came from a little blurb thingy i never ended up posting, and i felt it fit right into this chapter!

i liked writing this one a lot because the chaos in blitzos head allowed me to be all over the place and cover a lot of different stuff at once lol it was pretty cool

whenever anyone says something abt my writing being really in character it makes me feel so proud i just get so happy that it feels like ya know im taking these characters people care so much for that they're reading fanfiction about them and writing them from my perception and its so cool to have people feel like im doing them justice!!

the death with the sex toys part was a... choice lmao i thought it'd be funny to use the way blitzo's thoughts are all over the place to convey how easily they go from dumb thoughts to really depressive ones

oh the asking loona to call him dad again was added just to hurt yall i wont make excuses its there to be evil lol

yeah the convo w stolas was mostly taken out of the texts we see in stolas' phone in western energy, but i altered a few things here and there but yeah omfg what always got me with those texts is exactly that. like hes so so desperate to have things be okay he backtracks everything he's trying to say just to not feel that blitz is mad at him

i thought i could also add the layer of blitzo beeing too drunk to reply properly which is another reason for the texts to seem so cold

and ohhh yeah the thing with fizz finding her is that its both a 'fuck what i did hurt this girl' and also that kind of 'idk what to do rn' feeling of interacting with your partner's friends who you're not close enough to to have like a real conversation with lol

yeahhh im glad it was possible to catch that lol the chapter was v blitzo centered so we go through reader's pov of things very wuickly but yeah what blitz said abt her kept echoing in her mind just as much as what she said to him did in his!!

i thought the whole 'expecting a fuck you' thing would be fun to add in considering he does consider sending her a fuck you text in the beginning of the chapter lol

and seriously i think having the doodle there instead of just a description of it made it all so much more motional thank you so so much for it!!! i hope you liked the birthday gift!!!! happy birthday babes!!!!!