#I’ll probably make like base emotions n stuff if you do :]

[criminalyapping]

due for trouble | head first, fearless

the pitt masterlist main masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x f!reader

a/n: widower jack backstory time hey ya. hello, word vomit!! hope u like it besties and as always, if there’s anything you want to see in this world, send me an ask and i’ll write it for you <3

title from miss t swizzle because i am an unapologetic swiftie tysm

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, age gap, language, jack’s backstory includes his time in the military, losing his leg, and death via car accident

< part 9 | part 11 >

Somehow, after almost a week at this point, Jack and you are still on the outs.

He’s done his best to stay present; he’s supposed to be helping his own case about sticking around, so ignoring you isn’t an option. Not that he would even want to. He’s been texting you regularly; asking you how you’re feeling, checking in, all of that stuff.

He typically receives dry answers, a few hours after he sends them.

He feels as though he’s at an impasse. What could he do to prove to you that he’s there and not going anywhere?

He’s thought a lot about actually getting down on one knee and proposing to you. Telling you that you can go get hitched right then, with absolutely no prenup and the promise that even if you want a divorce, he’ll be required to pay child support. Probably a lot, based on how much he makes. But he would do it happily and with no ill-will.

If that will put you at ease, just enough to let him carry some of the weight on your shoulders, then he would do it.

But in his wildest dreams he would want to wait, buy you a nice ring that he knows you’ll like and ask you to marry him without the fear he knows is clouding your mind.

He did the whole rush into marriage thing before; and while he doesn’t regret his first marriage, the 12 years he had with his wife weren’t all sunshine. The time he spent deployed, the trauma and fallout from losing his leg, and his emotional immaturity from getting married at 19 didn’t lead to the healthiest of relationships. He and his wife were already estranged when she passed away in that car accident.

Not to say that her passing hadn’t wrecked him; it had. How do you spend 12 year tied to someone like that and have it all gone in the squeal of some tires on a snowy day? At 31, Jack knew that he had a lot of life ahead of him. He had hoped that he and his wife would have been able to work it out. Instead, he planned a funeral, picked out a headstone, and watched as they buried her, all hopes of reconciliation gone before they could even start.

Jack had always thought that he would be a good dad. But after his wife died, he had no interest in putting himself out there, and decided that having kids wasn’t in the cards for him. That is, until you came along.

You, with your snarky attitude and your drive and determination, came into his life at that bar one night and turned his world completely on its head in just over a month.

Now, once again he finds himself thinking. Thinking of a little girl with his nose. Building a trampoline for the backyard. Watching t-ball games and cheering a little too loudly when his kid touches home plate. Learning to braid hair, or paying too much for swimming lessons, or watching an elementary school talent show.

And he’s excited about it. For so long, his life has felt like a routine. Go to work, go home, think about work, go to therapy, think about work, and go to work. He’s tried all the hobbies. He’s read and he’s built things and he’s crocheted and he’s collected and about a million other things.

Boredom is what finally pushed him to start going to bars, alone, and seeing what’s going on. He had great conversations, talking with other vets over scotch, talking with med students about their classes, talking with bartenders about their lives. Getting little peeks into others’ lives as his own felt more and more isolated and monotonous. And luckily, his boredom had brought him you.

You, and what he now thinks is the biggest gift of his life.

So again, he asks himself, what can he do to show you? He thought he was doing a good job of being present. Try as he might, he can’t seem to come up with and initiate a plan. Truth be told he’s hurt at your hesitation. But he also reflects on the differences between you; your ages, your money situations, your place in your lives, and he gets it, to a certain extent. He would tell any young woman to do the same, be cautious. But this is different because it’s him.

Jack lives in a roomy duplex, 3 beds and 2 baths. He curses himself for not getting a house. One with a backyard, and a bathtub. All he has is two shower stalls; not perfect for a baby’s bath time.

He has a running list of furniture that he needs to buy. A bassinet and a crib and a changing table and about a thousand other things. He’s trying not to think about living situations. He had the thought that you could move in, share in his life and have the baby’s room just down the hall from yours. He still thinks about that, but reins it in and tells himself not to get ahead of himself.

So for now, he’ll stay here, seated in his spare room, which currently houses his record collection, his books, and a desk, all collecting dust, and ponder to himself about nursery decor.

It’s 1pm on a Sunday, a shift waiting for him tonight. He should be sleeping, but he can’t.

He’s glad he’s not, because he hears a knock at his door that pulls him up from the floor, groaning.

Opening it, he’s delighted to see you standing in front of him. His delight turns quickly to worry as he sees the tight expression on your face. As he looks closer, he sees your flushed cheeks, sweat beading on your forehead, and puffy and dark undereyes.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?” he asks you.

Your eyes dart around wildly as you bite your lip, your eyebrows tilted down in a mournful expression. You sniff once.

“I don’t feel good.” you tell him in a vulnerable voice. He ushers you into his home and closes the door behind you, watching the way you immediately start to shiver as the air conditioning hits your frame.

He smooths your tangled hair back from your face and places a hand on your clammy forehead.

“Yeah,” he mutters, “you have a fever.”

He works fast, getting you in his bed and sipping on a glass of water.

“What hurts?” he asks you tenderly.

“My throat,” you manage to say, swallowing some water with a wince.

“Let me see,” he urges, turning on the flashlight of his phone and looking in your mouth.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “no way to tell for sure but it’s probably strep. We need to get your fever down, I’ll get you some Tylenol.” he says, walking to his bathroom and retrieving the pills.

He hands over two pills, and you choke them down with another sip.

“How long have you had the fever?” he asks.

“I didn’t feel great last night, and when I woke up this morning it was worse.” you tell him.

“Well, thank you for coming to me,” he says gently, brushing more hair away from your face. “We need to get a test to make sure and some antibiotics.” he says.

You groan, not looking forward to leaving his big, comfy bed you had just settled in to.

“I know,” he coos, “but as soon as we’re done and have the prescription, we can come right back here.”

“Do you have to work tonight?” you ask.

“No.” he says, lying through his teeth and thinking about who he’ll text for coverage.

He helps you stand up again, holds you up while you slip on your shoes, and ushers you into the front seat of his truck, driving you to the nearest urgent care.

Jack checks you in, and returns to sit next to you on a stiff waiting room chair. You sleepy head falls onto his shoulder, and he gives the top of your head a quick kiss.

After about 15 minutes, your name is called and you stand up.

“Do you want me to come?” Jack asks.

“Yeah,” you agree.

After a quick explanation and round of vitals, your throat gets swabbed and sent for a rapid test.

You’re left alone in the room with Jack as you wait for the results.

“Thank you, Jack.” you say quietly.

“Of course, honey,” he says, rubbing his hands over his face.

“No, really,” you clarify, “thank you. I was a dick the last time we talked.”

Jack sighs.

“You weren’t a dick.” he disagrees, “you’re scared, and I understand.”

“Still,” you croak, “I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. And I come crawling back after a week when I’m sick and you don’t think twice.”

“Of course I didn’t.” he says.

“You’re a good man, Jack Abbot.” you tell him.

“Ahh, sometimes.” he jokes, getting you to crack a smile. Jack stands up, coming to sit next to the exam table you’re perched on, and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He squeezes, just a little, and rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Just for the people I love.” he says, his chin moving gently against your skull.

You freeze. While you and Jack have skirted around it, saying that you ‘mean a lot’ to each other, hearing him say out loud for the first time that he loves you is like getting straight ice water poured on you. Before you can respond, the doctor returns.

“So, the strep test was positive, so I’ll call in a prescription for some antibiotics. Take them once a day until they’re gone. Keep using Tylenol as directed for the fever, keep hydrated, and get lots of rest.” she urges.

You’re barely listening. Jack loves you. He loves you.

You’ve really got to think about where to go from here.

tagging: @michasia24 @veggieburgerwrites @bruher @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @catmomstyles3 @qardasngan @fuckalrighty @rae4725 @beebeechaos @thatssomebadhat89 @cari87 @livingdeadblondequeen @wowitsafemale @neonpurplestars89-blog @starswin @celiacallsitcausal @vinceelser @glamorizethechaos @nerdgirljen @namgification @li22ie2017

let me know if you want on the taglist!!

[totallynotslothhh]

HOLD ME TIGHT PT.2

pairing: joost klein x fem!reader

word count: 4,380

warning: angst, smut, fluff, spanking, crying, smoking, fwb

description: The relationship between Joost and y/n seems to be going well, seemingly about to evolve, but an event drastically shifts y/n’s perspective, starting to make everything crumble.

author’s note: Hi everyone, you have no idea how eager I was to publish the second part. I absolutely love writing heartbreaking and painful stuff, you’re going to have to suffer a little, BUT FEAR NOT, I’m already working on the third part, which I’ll try to release by the end of this week, or at the latest, the beginning of the next. Please be patient. While I was writing this fanfic, I had a vivid image of Joost in 2022, so I based everything on that version of him. However, since I kept the descriptions pretty broad, I think you’ll be able to imagine him from any early era in his career.

That said, I’ll leave you to the reading now, and I’ll see you soon (probably with some meltdowns).

big kisses!

(sorry if there are grammatical errors, I tried my best, English is not my first language!!!🙏)

part.1 part.2 part.3

——————————————————————

The first rainy days of September had started to appear: grey, cloudy days, with the humid air that still hinted at the summer heat, yet gently pushed you into the thought of the cold that was soon to come.

I inhaled from the cigarette filter, savoring the bitter but damnably familiar taste of smoke, staring out at the courtyard of my apartment and the street that stretched out from my bedroom window.

-You’ve been smoking more since you started seeing Joost.-

It had been two months since my first time with Joost.

Two months since the subject of my thoughts and worries had shifted. Two months since someone had come into my life who I didn’t yet know would become the most important person in it.

We had built a relationship of unstable balance. There was always a little piece of my day dedicated to us. Whether it was in the morning, afternoon, or evening, a quick text, a call, or a meeting, whether there was sex or not.

Sex was the major protagonist of our encounters and desires. It’s true, our friendship had become mostly physical, but there was always a margin of interest in each other. We shared a mutual affection that went beyond just the act.

It showed in the small things, things that seemed small but were actually huge.

For example, he remembered the brand of cigarettes I smoked, what foods I liked and disliked, he knew how to handle me when I was sad, knew what to do when I was nervous, could read me just from a glance.

I had become an open book. Even if I tried to pretend I didn’t care about him, I couldn’t pull it off: do heart-eyes come with every look?

-Your heart’s beating fast.-

Feeling that explosion of emotions terrified me: the thoughts that always drifted to him in my free moments, the desire to see him, that kind of anxious excitement before meeting up, the chills running over my skin the moment our eyes met. That wave of sensations scared me. I didn’t want to fall in love, didn’t want to start something new, especially since the wound from my last love was still fresh.

No longer bleeding, but still open and fragile.

So fragile that a single touch could make it bleed again.

Joost was healing a wound he hadn’t caused. Without knowing it, he was soothing me with a beautifully calming rhythm, slowly making me trust him.

-Did you sleep more last night, or am I wrong?-

But it wasn’t time yet.

Would that time ever come? I didn’t know.

What I did know was that this relationship would end. Like everything else, even the good things come to an end.

Especially the good things.

The question was: would it end by evolving into something deeper, or would it break under the weight of our anxieties?

-Breathe. Relax. Enjoy the moment.-

I sighed, letting the smoke out through my nose. I rested my chin on my palm, holding the finished cigarette with the other hand.

That day, I felt particularly overwhelmed. I’d been working all morning, hadn’t carved out even a tiny bit of time for a break. Cigarettes were my “break,” if you could call it that: two minutes of filling my lungs with filth, paradoxically relaxing. Paradoxically warm.

I chuckled at the thought, glancing at my desk. It was messy and mirrored my state of being perfectly: scattered papers, small pencil sketches covering their surfaces alongside important notes, my laptop dying and about to shut off.

I took one last drag, then crushed the filter on the cold windowsill and finally closed the window.

Sniffling, I returned to my spot and checked my notifications.

No notifications.

-I want to be with Joost.-

I furrowed my brow and, without thinking twice, opened our chat, filled with quick messages but also silly or meaningful conversations. When we couldn’t see each other, any excuse was good enough to stay in touch.

Just a few minutes to make sure we weren’t letting go of each other. Holding on to that safe place.

“Wanna meet up later?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

Surprisingly, I got a reply immediately, before I even had time to put my phone down.

That was strange, considering Joost usually took forever to answer a message.

A carrier pigeon might’ve been faster at showing signs of life.

Sometimes I almost felt lucky to have him in my life. He was always busy with creative work, but still made the effort to give you attention.

“I was just about to text you and ask the same.”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

That message brought a shy, stupid, useless smile to my face. And as soon as I realized it, I shook my head, biting down on my lower lip.

-Was he thinking about me?-

“At your place?”

Sent today at 5:16 PM.

“Come over when you’re free.”

Sent today at 5:17 PM.

So, after reading that last message, I turned off my phone and stood up, stretching and mentally cursing the version of myself that had bought chairs as uncomfortable as they were beautiful.

Needless to say, I left work on hold, weighing the desire to see the guy who gave me orgasms worthy of divine classification, against the need to finish the work I had piled up.

A good worker would’ve chosen wisely.

At 9:00 PM, I was in his bed.

My exhaustion gone after yet another round of sex that served as a release from those heavy, endless days. The simple feeling of his lips on my body, his hands in my hair, his gaze on me, and his dick buried deep inside me while he praised me and told me how beautiful I looked naked. Well, it made me feel good.

My head rested peacefully on his chest, legs tangled in the white sheet and with his, while I lazily caressed his calf with the top of my foot. I felt his fingers softly travel across the warm skin of my back, his calm breathing rising and falling beneath the hand I’d placed on his chest, playing with the hair there, mimicking his movements.

The welcoming silence thundered in my ears. His heartbeat set the background to the thousand thoughts flowing gently through my mind. The feeling of truly being wanted cradled me.

It was those moments.

Those moments I lived with premature nostalgia, thinking of when we’d part, of how much I’d miss them when I’d be alone, of how stupid I was for starting something like this.

“What are you thinking about?” His deep, raspy voice, thick from silence and exhaustion, made me shrug, caught slightly off guard.

“Nothing” I answered in a whisper, letting my hand glide across his stomach and down his side, trying to cuddle closer. In response, he gently turned toward me, letting me curl into him even more.

“Liar, you’re too quiet” he said, wrapping me in his warm, pale arms, brushing a hand against my cheek, which was now tinged with a soft blush.

“Just tired” I whispered, almost not wanting to break the silence between us.

I looked up at him, seeing his eyes, now narrow slits, likely trying to focus on me. He looked so innocent with that little curious pout, without his glasses, and with messy hair.

“Hungry? Want to order something?” he offered, stroking my cheek with his thumb, keeping his gaze on me, at least as much as he could.

“Maybe later” I nodded, savoring the warmth his palm gave me as it cradled my face. Touch was definitely a language that went beyond words. It was an expression of love that reassured me I wasn’t making a mistake.

Physical closeness made me feel safe, made me feel wanted.

“I really want to kiss you” he murmured a moment later, making me smile as I felt the grip of his other hand tighten, more eager, on my bare waist. I looked at him and noticed the hint of sleep in his expression. It made me laugh, because I already knew where this would end: kissing sloppily, filling the room with wet sounds, soft moans, and giggles.

“How will you do that if you can’t see?” I raised my eyebrows, watching his confused frown fade as I reached toward the nightstand and grabbed his thick glasses. Both his hands slid to my hips, and I felt his lips lazily rest on my shoulder.

“I still don’t get how you manage to see anything” I shifted slightly, putting his glasses on him and holding his face to lift his gaze toward mine. His sleepy expression hadn’t changed, but his eyes were more focused now, filled with desire, mirrored in the way he gripped my warm, tingling skin.

This boy made me feel everything.

In seconds, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. We started kissing, our tongues dancing inside each other’s mouths. I felt his breath growing heavier, his grip dropping to my ass. I kept one hand on his face and the other resting gently on his chest. He bit my lower lip and pushed his hips involuntarily against my thigh, his half-hard length pressing against me. He squeezed one cheek and kept kissing me hungrily.

I moaned into his mouth and instinctively brought my other hand to his cheek too, caressing him with my thumbs and pulling myself closer.

I felt overwhelmed, and it was the most beautiful feeling, because I knew, no matter what, Joost would be there to handle it.

He pulled away for a second to look at me. To observe my flushed cheeks, half-lidded eyes, glossy lips parted just enough to breathe. He gently pushed me under him, letting his hands explore my waist again.

“I could kiss you without stopping” he murmured warmly against my cheek, making me smile and move my hands to his shoulders. He began kissing his way from my cheek to my lips, then down my body, leaving little bites that drew soft moans from my throat.

“I’m bringing you to my next concert” he whispered against the warm skin of my chest, looking up at me but never stopping his trail of kisses.

“What?” I giggled, running my fingers through his hair and pulling him up for a kiss. I hadn’t quite caught the meaning of that sentence, I was more focused on how wet he’d just made me again.

-Didn’t catch it, or didn’t want to?-

“You said you’d like to come. I got you a backstage pass” he repeated, kissing my lips again before nestling into my neck, not giving me time to fully process it. I paused, eyes widening, pulling away slightly to stop him from kissing and distracting me more.

“Really?” I whispered, laughing and halting my hands in his hair. He looked up and locked eyes with mine.

“Yeah, You told me once you’d like to be there.”

I had told him. Almost a month ago. And he had remembered.

He had remembered that tiny sentence buried in a much larger conversation about his budding music career.

“you remembered it..” I whispered, unable to hold back a smile, which brought one to his face too. I felt his hands grip my hips, and his face disappeared from my view as he buried it once again in my neck.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me” he said, sliding a hand between my legs, pressing his middle finger against my clit, then moving it between my already wet lips. I clenched around nothing, arching my back slightly and grabbing a fistful of his blond hair.

“You like it when I touch you, huh?” That phrase made me shiver and moan, writhing under the continuous pressure at my throbbing center.

“Yes… don’t stop- keep.. keep going” I murmured with closed eyes as I felt his fingers slowly push inside me, deepening the sensation alongside the bites he placed on my skin.

“I can’t wait to take you backstage, to fuck you, to cover your mouth while I pull your hair” he murmured. That image only heightened everything, his fingers curling inside me, his thumb circling my clit. I bit my lower lip, my breath quickening as chills ran down my spine. The heat from his body, the sheets, and the pleasure itself was so comforting I could’ve melted right then and there.

I felt his hips press against my thigh, his growing hardness brushing against my skin.

“Please, Joost…” I whispered, opening my eyes and tugging gently on his hair to lift his face. He did so, increasing the rhythm of his fingers, eyes locked onto my expression, entirely lost in pleasure.

“Turn around” he instructed softly, withdrawing his fingers and bringing them to my lips. I opened my mouth and welcomed them, tasting myself as I sucked them hungrily. His breathing grew heavier, his arousal harder against my leg, and his smile deepened as he pushed his fingers further into my mouth. I licked them thoroughly before releasing them.

“You’re beautiful. Always” he whispered as he slowly sat up, supporting himself on his knees to give me room to turn over. I rolled onto my stomach, tucking my shoulders in and arching my back deliberately, accentuating the curve of my hips.

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you naked beneath me… you’re even more” he said, making me blush and bury my face into the pillow. His hands took hold of the soft skin of my backside, giving it light taps and gentle squeezes as he leaned forward, trailing kisses down my spine, focusing on the dimples just above my hips.

After a few moments, I sensed him move away to grab a condom left ready on the nightstand. I raised my hips slightly, feeling exposed. When he returned to the bed, he didn’t take long to land a sharp smack on my right cheek, making me gasp and moan into the pillow, the sound fading into the rhythm of our heavy breaths.

He slid into me, gripping my hips tightly with urgent hands, which soon after struck my skin again, reddening it. He plunged his full length in and began to move at a steady pace. That position was one of his favorites: I could tell by the way he groaned, the way he caressed my back, the way his voice faltered with each thrust. I was starting to understand those parts of him too.

“God.. I- fuck..” he moaned roughly, driving into me with force, pressing his chest to my back, panting against my ear, leaving wet kisses on my shoulder. One of his hands smacked me again before grabbing both cheeks, spreading them slightly, as if to remind me he was in control. The pleasure was overwhelming. My face was pressed into the softness of the pillow, one hand clutching the pillowcase, the other buried beneath it. The sound of our bodies meeting filled the room, layering more heat between our naked skin and the craving for a physical pleasure that somehow calmed the soul.

I tightened around him, moaning loudly as his fingers moved to my clit again, adding an electric edge to the sensation.

“Come for me, baby, come” he whispered through ragged breaths, keeping the same intense rhythm, his circles on my sensitive bud pushing me closer to the edge. His other hand found mine, intertwining our fingers, still gripping the pillowcase.

I felt my legs tense, breath caught in my throat, and the knot of orgasm unraveled, taking me over in seconds. I closed my eyes and let the wave crash over me, breathless, as Joost continued his movement until he followed, spilling into the condom, giving his last thrusts meaningless, still clutching my hand like it was the only anchor he had.

He covered me in kisses and caresses, the urgency of sex now wrapped in the softness of intimacy.

“Of course I did. I remember everything you tell me.”

That sentence echoed in my head for days. It was etched into my heart, engraved in my memory. He was taking me to one of his concerts because he had read between the lines of my words. He was taking me to his show, and all our friends would finally see the kind of bond that held us together.

We had done everything in secret without even meaning to. It wasn’t about hiding, we had just kept things private.

It wasn’t supposed to be more than sex.

Supposed to, because whether I liked it or not, I felt it that day.

Something romantic was growing. I was becoming more aware of the bond forming between us, strengthening with each passing day.

I saw it in his eyes. I saw it in his smile. I felt it every time we were together, heard it in the whispered words, in the how are you? he’d send me throughout the day.

The fear was slowly slipping away. I was starting to let go, to trust him more and more.

-You’re moving forward. Letting yourself be led by the depth of the passion that binds you… isn’t that what love is?-

And finally, the day of the concert arrived. A day that was meant to be the most beautiful of all, the fullest, the most emotional. I would finally see him perform, I’d see him on stage, full of life. I would be there for him.

A day that was meant to mark the beginning of something deeper.

But happiness crumbled all at once. Reality hit me in the face, suddenly. My eyes saw what they shouldn’t have seen, not during that time, not on that day, not in that moment.

Not in those fragile, delicate moments.

It was the morning of that fateful day, a quiet and strangely peaceful Saturday.

There was something in the air, tranquility tainted by the joy of being part of such an important event for Joost. I had decided to go for a walk, planning to stop by the supermarket and grab something quick for lunch with him. After that, we’d leave together. We’d go together. I’d be with him all day.

But everything changed when I found myself walking down the aisles of that supermarket, torn between which instant ramen to get, trying to remember the favorite of the guy with whom I had, more than once, shared that simple meal.

I turned my head slightly.

Maybe it was an involuntary movement.

Maybe deep down I knew I was about to ruin that day for myself.

Or maybe it was just pure coincidence that led me to do it.

But I saw him.

I saw my ex-boyfriend standing right there, next to me, mirroring my action, holding two different packs of ramen. Probably to share with his new girlfriend.

My shoulders tensed, and without realizing it, I tightened my grip. I stood there, staring at his body, leaning casually on his right leg, his face caught in some sort of indecisive thought… And just his presence, so coincidental, so close, froze me.

My knees started to tremble. I could feel my heart pumping faster, sending blood coursing through my body. My mind was completely fogged.

I was so disappointed, so angry, and so sad that I got swept away by the confusion that took over my thoughts.

And it all got worse when our eyes met, when I saw the surprised look on his face. And then, that smile.

That damn smile I used to be so in love with, so lost in…

And for a moment, I was almost afraid of it.

“Hi, y/n.” Hearing his voice again didn’t do me any good, not at all. It caused a painful tightness in the middle of my chest.

My breath caught in my throat.

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He stepped closer, and I forced a weak smile.

“Hi” I answered coldly, shifting my gaze back to the ramen that had now taken on the role of distraction puppets, something, anything to keep my mind off his presence.

-Is your heart beating fast for him too?-

“It’s been a while since we, uh… saw each other” he continued, his tone almost regretful, dripping with guilt. In three years, I had never heard him sound like that.

“Yeah” I replied, lifting my gaze again, and my heart skipped a beat when I saw how he was looking at me.

“I never really got the chance to apologize… for how I ended things.”

-Why was he telling me this? Why now?-

“It’s fine. I guess our paths were just meant to part” I replied simply, feeling the tension in my shoulders release just a little.

But… he had made the effort to say sorry.

Maybe…

“How are you? You look good.”

He slipped into my thoughts just like he used to. I smiled at that memory, nodded slightly, and let out a sigh I hadn’t realized I was holding.

“I’m good. And you?” It came out naturally, as if some part of me still wanted to know. And that scared me.

-You should hate him for how he treated you.-

We talked for maybe ten minutes. The most adrenaline-filled, fastest ten minutes of my life. Ten minutes that ruined my day, and the days that followed.

He said he’d like to see me again, to “talk things through, over a cup of tea.”

But would that really solve anything?

Was my racing heart just a reflex?

Or was I still caught up in him?

Did his presence matter as much as Joost’s?

-Did Joost matter as much as him?-

That question, that thought, those words, they haunted me the entire day. They made me distant, stuck in my head, detached from reality, drowning in guilt. Every time Joost reached for my hand, for my gaze, tried to read what was going on inside me. Every time he sought even the smallest touch, I felt myself sink deeper into the dark pit of guilt.

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to talk to me.

He wanted to ask what was wrong.

But he didn’t have the mental space for it, not on that day, not like that. His face showed worry, but I gave him no room to ask. If he had asked too much, my guilt would’ve broken me, I would’ve cried. And that would’ve made things worse.

That day was his.

And I ruined it.

I ruined everything because of my mood.

I was finally backstage with all our friends, Joost’s team, and Joost himself, who was getting ready for the concert. I held a plastic cup with something alcoholic in it. The atmosphere was buzzing: nervous energy, joy, laughter, light teasing.

It would’ve been warm, welcoming… if I weren’t drowning in this internal mess. I lifted my gaze and looked at Joost from afar. He was laughing with a mutual friend, probably at some joke they’d shared. I heard his laughter from across the room and my expression softened.

A wave of pain hit my stomach, only slightly dulled by the sparkling liquid I swallowed.

-Why am I acting like this?-

My eyes dropped to the dark floor. My thoughts were clouded with images of both men.

I shouldn’t have been thinking about my ex, but how could I not?

“You sure you’re okay?” Joost’s voice startled me, a mix of concern and warmth. I met his gaze and smiled, but he didn’t smile back.

This time, he saw through me.

He knew I was lying.

“Yeah, hey, don’t worry about me.” I said, placing a hand on his arm, squeezing his shoulder, trying to stay close.

“I know something’s off. You’re not having fun? You don’t feel comfortable?” He asked again, clearly worried but I detected a flicker of irritation in his tone.

I couldn’t tell him what had happened that morning.

Not then.

That would’ve been cruel.

“Joost, really- don’t worry… I’m fine” I insisted, brushing my lips gently against his cheek and giving his shoulder another caress. He forced a smile. Pretended to believe me.

But the tension between us was unbearable.

When he came back to me after the concert, he was buzzing with energy, his white tank top soaked in sweat, face flushed, hair tousled. He couldn’t wait to hold me.

I saw it in his excitement, the adrenaline coursing through him. Everyone congratulated him, but I stood aside… feeling like I didn’t belong in that explosive moment of joy.

And as he came toward me, all I could think was that I can’t handle this. His energy, his light, it’s too much for someone like me.

-I have to talk to my ex. I need to know what he wants to clarify.-

That thought, beating in my head since the morning, was shattered in one instant. Joost cupped my face and pressed his lips to mine.

Time froze.

I tasted his freshness, felt his heart beating against my lips, his breath caught in the branches of his lungs, his hands holding my face so close. I kissed him back. But the weight of the moment broke me.

Everyone had seen us. And instead of feeling enchanted… I felt horrified.

Terrified.

Tears welled in my eyes. I gripped his wrists and when I pulled away, I couldn’t even look at him.

It felt like I had betrayed him.

“Hey…” His soft, breathless voice wrapped around me like a thread. He gently moved, trying to lift my face toward his. The tears slipped down freely.

I bit my bottom lip and shook my head, overwhelmed by shame.

“Please, talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.” His pleading made it painfully clear I was the problem. I was the one hurting this still-forming relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t even going to form at all.

I held back sobs, eyes shut tightly.

I felt so small in front of him.

“This morning, I saw him… and I don’t know if I’m ready to move on.”

I confessed. I didn’t even have the strength to look at him.

I had ruined everything.

Me and my insecurities had ruined it all.

And I didn’t want to ruin Joost.

That pure soul didn’t deserve it.

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday's Gone — Chapter 7

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: fluff, mentions of murdering someone (as a joke, kind of), so much Scooby-Doo and dog talk, GIRL DAD RUSSELL!! (he's a warning because – well, you'll see)

Y/N: This chapter... this chapter is literally my favorite from this series. Enjoy!🤍

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Catch up on Chapter 6 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━���

“What the actual hell are you doing here?” she snapped, her words laced with enough venom to make anyone think twice about speaking.

Russell, clearly anticipating her fury, quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I know this sounds insane, and I know you probably hate my guts – fair enough, you’ve got every reason to – but Y/N sent me to grab some stuff for her and Emma.”

Your sister’s brows furrowed in confusion for many things. “Where the hell are they? What did you do–”

“They’re at the hospital in Springland” Russell cut in, holding up a hand. “They’re fine, okay? Just– let me pack some things for them. You can come with me, I’ll explain everything on the way” he said.

Her hands started to tremble, and she had to grip the doorframe to steady herself. “So, they’re okay? Emma’s okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. They’re good” Russell said, though his gaze was unreadable. “Please, let me–”

A flood of emotions hit Anna all at once. Relief, yes, but also an undercurrent of fear she couldn’t shake. Emma was okay. That’s all that mattered. Still, she didn’t understand why you would be in Springland. And…why hadn’t you called her? And why the hell was he here picking up their stuff?

Anna stared at him, trying to read him. The whole situation was a mess. You and Russell hadn’t exactly parted on the best terms, and now here he was, showing up at your door, looking exhausted and out of place.

Why him?

Still, Anna couldn’t help the relief flooding through her. You and Emma were safe. You had to be. But she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was still off.

“Alright” she sighed and reluctantly let him in. She helped him pack some sweaters, a new pair of jeans, clean underwear and everything you’d need during a hospital stay. She also tossed clothes to Emma, her favorite plushie – a Scooby-Doo toy your parents gave her. 

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Exhausted didn’t even begin to cover it. The last few days had chewed you up, spat you out, and trampled over what was left. You weren’t just tired. You were hollowed out, running on fumes and sheer willpower. You had a feeling like you’d need a month's rest, minimum. 

But at least Emma was safe. She was sleeping peacefully now, tucked into the hospital bed beside you. Physically, she was unharmed, Rourke and his men hadn’t laid a finger on her. Yet, you knew that wasn’t the whole story. Mentally, the trauma of it all would leave scars neither of you could see just yet. Your brave, sweet girl had been kidnapped. Stolen away. And the thought of what could have happened – no. Your mind can’t even go there.

Now here you were, sitting vigil beside her hospital bed. You’d been given your own resting place in the room – thank heaven for small favors – but you couldn’t bring yourself to use it. Instead, you stayed planted by Emma’s side, staring at her tiny face as she slept. Her brows were furrowed even in rest, her lips pressed into a worried pout. Seeing her like that made your guilt weigh heavier.

You should have been her protector, her guardian angel, the one who kept the bad things away. And yet here you were, staring at the evidence of your failure. No four-year-old – or any child, for that matter – should have to go through this.

Your mind wouldn't quit, racing through the last few days like a bad movie on loop. First, the panic when you realized Emma was gone, the gut-wrenching moment it hit you, like a punch to the stomach. Then there was Rourke, that smug, twisted, mustache-framed smile of his, and the mess you’d thrown yourself into just to get her back. The helplessness you felt when you finally decided to call Colter. And, of course, there was Russell blowing back into your life like a hurricane, as if you hadn’t just spent years avoiding him.

They’d saved her. Saved both of you, really. And for all the hurt and confusion between you and Russell, you couldn’t deny that he had stepped up when it mattered most.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. 

The door creaked open, and Anna’s familiar auburn hair peeked in first. Her eyes softened when they landed on you and Emma. She slipped inside, moving quietly not to wake her, and behind your sister came Russell, lugging two heavy sports bags.

Anna came straight to you, her arms wrapping around you tightly as soon as she reached your side. You returned the hug, letting her warmth chase away a fraction of the chill that had washed over your skin.

“God, I was so worried. So, so, so worried.” she whispered with a voice heavily trembling.

“I know, I– I’m so sorry” you murmured. “I was too. Did Russell tell you?”

She pulled back just enough to look at you. “Yeah, he briefed me” she said as her hands were still gripping your arms. “Don’t worry, I put him in his place” she said and Russell rolled his eyes at that. She really did, let’s just say, the whole car ride had been a rather tense experience.

You nodded, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Thank you for coming. You didn’t have t–”

“Stop” Anna cut you off, smoothing a hand over your hair like she used to when you were kids. “Of course, I did.”

Her eyes slid to Russell, and her mouth tightened into a thin line. She knew you two had so many things to talk about, but – for obvious reasons – she didn’t want to leave you with him. On the ride here, Russell tried to explain everything. And by everything, he meant everything. His line of work, the reason you were brought to your sister’s house that night four and a half years ago, and the real reason Emma was taken. To say Anna hadn’t taken it well was an understatement. But even in her anger, she couldn’t miss the regret in his voice, or the way he spoke about Emma – like she was the most precious thing in his world, even though he barely knew her.

That, more than anything, made her hesitate.

Anna’s gaze darted to Russell, who was mindlessly unpacking one of the bags she’d hurriedly thrown together, then back to you.

With a reluctant sigh, she said, “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Her voice carried the weight of a thousand unspoken warnings, all of them aiming directly at Russell. “I brought the essentials” she added, nodding toward the duffels by the door. “I’ll be outside. Need to call Mom and Dad anyway.”

“Thanks, Anna”

She gave you a small, tight smile and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to Emma’s forehead. Without another word, she stepped out of the room.

The door clicked shut, leaving you alone with Russell. The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, not this time.

Russell cleared his throat, abandoning the duffels mid-unpack, and shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

“Thank you” you said quietly, your voice softer than you’d expected.

“For what?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t have a specific answer, really. There was too much to thank him for.

Bringing you here to make sure you and Emma were safe, for one.

At the diner, he’d distracted Emma with soothing words and a little game – like connecting with her was the most natural thing in the world. That moment had surprised you, even warmed you.

And then, of course, there was the big thing. The thing that mattered most. He and his brother had risked their lives to save Emma. Your child. Your entire world.

Sure, he was partly the reason Emma had been in danger to begin with. But after everything, could you really hold that against him? Not more than you blamed yourself, anyway. He hadn’t even known about her, let alone that she could be used as a pawn to hurt him. That part? That was on you. You’d made the decision to keep quiet about your pregnancy, letting your own hurt and anger drown out better judgment.

Really, both of you had made mistakes. He hadn’t told you what his real job was. You hadn’t told him he was going to be a father. And now, here you were – two people who had made a mess, trying to pick up the pieces.

“How is she?” Russell asked, his gaze landing on Emma. His voice was steady, but you could hear the waves of guilt underneath like a howling ocean.

“She’s... okay” you said, letting out a breath that felt like it had been trapped in your chest for days. “Physically, at least. The rest? That’s going to take time.”

He nodded but his jaw worked like he was trying to grind his regret into dust. “She’ll get through this…She’s strong. Like her mom.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth in his words. For a second, the fortress you’d built around yourself wavered.

Hell, who were you kidding? That thing had crumbled the second Emma was back in your arms.

“I don’t know about that” you admitted.

“I do” he said, stepping a little closer, careful. “I saw it. These last few days... you didn’t stop. You didn’t back down. Not even when I showed up and probably made everything ten times harder.”

Your chest tightened, and you glanced down at your hands. They were still trembling, like your body hadn’t gotten the memo that the worst was over.

“I was terrified, Russell. Every second, I thought I’d lost her. I thought I’d never see her again.”

“But you didn’t” he said, sitting beside you like he belonged there. After a beat of silence, he added, “Because you fought for her. And when it came down to it, we fought for her together.”

That last word hit you like a gentle nudge to the heart. Together. You lifted your eyes to meet his, and for the first time in longer than you cared to admit, you saw something there you hadn’t let yourself see before. Honesty. Regret. And maybe... hope?

“I don’t even know how to thank you” you said, your voice soft. “You and your brother. I don’t even know where to start. I can’t—”

“Don’t” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t need to thank me. I just... I had to. For her. For you.”

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink a few times to keep the tears at bay. “You saved her, Russell. That means everything to me.”

He leaned forward, his hand hovering near yours, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to close the gap. “I’d do it again. A thousand times over.”

The silence between you stretched, but for once, it wasn’t awkward. It was thick with all the things neither of you were ready to say but couldn’t deny anymore.

Finally, you reached out and your fingers brushed his calloused hands. “Stay” you whispered. “We’ve got a lot to figure out, but... I’d like you to stay. At least until she wakes up.”

The corners of his lips tugged up slightly, almost like he wanted to smile but thought better of it.

“I can do that.”

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

You can’t remember when or how you drifted off, and you certainly can’t remember how you got into the bed beside Emma’s. For a moment, you were completely disoriented, like a GPS that lost signal. Your ears perked up at the sound of the TV, the familiar voice of Don Messick’s echoing through the room like an old friend. Was that Scooby-Doo you were hearing? Had you and Emma watched so much of it that now your brain was hallucinating talking dogs in your sleep?

You slowly peaked one eye open, then the other, dopiness sweeping through your system. You had to blink a couple before the blurry sight became clear in front of you.

There was Emma, sitting up on her bed, her eyes glued to the hospital TV in the corner, watching a rerun of Scooby-Doo, Where Are You? She was making soft, nonsensical sounds that barely registered to you in your half-awake state. 

And next to her, there was Russell, lying on his side with his head propped up on one arm, also mumbling. Emma’s head was nestled against his torso, her small body curled up in a cozy little ball next to his as she clutched the Scooby plushie Anna must have packed for her. They were both completely absorbed in the episode, their voices blending together in what could only be described as an animated commentary on the show.

You tried to make sense of what they were saying, but their words were a jumble to you – intelligible to them, maybe, but not to your sleep-fogged brain.

It didn’t take long for you to recognize the episode they were watching: Decoy for a Dognapper.

Of course. Emma was a Scooby fan. You and her know all the episodes by heart at this point, so much that Scooby-Doo was practically a second language in your house. And it seemed like Russell had caught on too, or at least, he’d been swept into the Scooby-verse by default. The two of them were so wrapped up in their conversation, they didn’t even notice you were awake.

“No way! She won’t? Why not? A dog is awesome” Russell said, his voice carrying the first full sentence your foggy mind could grasp.

“She says I’m too young” Emma replied, snuggling closer to his side as though the injustice of it all was just simply too much to bear.

“Too young? That’s ridiculous. What does that even mean?” Russell shot back, his tone scandalized for comedic effect. “Dogs don’t care how old you are. They care if you’ve got snacks and ear scratchin’ in store for ‘em.”

Emma giggled. “Mom doesn’t wanna pick up poop.”

Russell tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, if I remember correctly, your mom was seriously considering getting a dog a few years ago.”

At that, you sat up with a groan. “Really, Russell?” 

It was true, he and you both knew it. About five or so years ago, you’d gone on and on about adopting a dog – all the goddamn time. Russell had endured countless rants about breeds, shelters, and the pros and cons of pet ownership. Now, the smirk on his face told you he was thoroughly enjoying throwing it back in your face. Payback’s a bitch, huh?

Both of them turned to look at you. Emma with her wide-eyed, angelic innocence, and Russell with a grin that was downright infuriating in its smugness.

“Morning” he greeted with a widening grin. “We were just discussing the tragic lack of a dog in Emma’s life. Care to defend yourself?”

“Yeah, Mom!” Emma chimed in with an emboldened voice by her new ally. “Why can’t I have one?”

You rubbed your temples, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Because you’re too young, and I know exactly how that would end. I’d be the one walking it, feeding it, and cleaning up after it, dealing with everything.”

Russell raised a brow, looking way too amused. “Funny, you didn’t seem to mind the idea a couple of years ago.”

You shot him a pointed look. “Don’t make her think she has backup in this, Russ.”

“Too late” he said, leaning back with a grin. “Team Dog is officially in full force, yeah?”

Emma threw her hands in the air triumphantly, flashing you the biggest grin. “Team Dog!”

You groaned, but the warmth bubbling in your chest betrayed you. It wasn’t just the banter – it was seeing them like this, bonding over something silly, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Emma looked like a carefree kid again. 

You narrowed your eyes at Russell, fully expecting another smug remark when he suddenly looked... hesitant. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight on the bed like a man about to drop a bombshell.

“What?” you asked, immediately suspicious.

“Well” he started, scratching the back of his neck, “don’t freak out, but... your parents are here. They got here a couple hours ago while you were out. Anna called them, I guess. She must’ve worked her magic because, well... let’s just say I was fully prepared to be murdered the second they walked in.”

Your hand flew to your forehead as you groaned, visions of your parents tearing into Russell flashing through your mind.

You didn’t tell them about him being here yet… and you guess it was already too late.

Your dad would be loud about it, your mom quieter but somehow more terrifying. You could only imagine the list of grievances they had ready for him. You just hoped they didn’t cause a scene in front of the whole hospital – and most importantly, in front of Emma.

“Wait” you narrowed your eyes. “They’re not trying to kill you? What did Anna even say to make that happen?”

“I think she went with the ‘he saved Emma’ card. Pretty sure your mom’s exact words were, ‘Well, I suppose I won’t bury him under the hydrangeas... yet.’”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted. It was just so her. “Sounds about right. And dad?”

Russell winced theatrically. “Your dad... definitely gave me the look. You know, the one that says, ‘I’m debating whether you’re worth the jail time.’ But he hasn’t thrown any punches yet, so I’ll count that as a win.”

Emma tilted her head, a frown pulling at her lips. “Why does Grandma and Grandpa wanna hurt Russell? He’s so nice!”

The room went so quiet you could hear the faint hum of the hospital machinery. Russell froze, looking at you for backup, but you were too busy giving him a look – the universal signal for you started this, buddy, now deal with it.

“Well, sweetheart” he said slowly, scratching his head. “They don’t actually want to hurt me. It’s just... a joke. You know, like when people say they’re gonna kill someone, but they don’t really mean it?”

Emma gave him a serious look, like she wasn’t entirely convinced. “But why? What did you do?”

You sighed, realizing there was no easy way out of this. “Sweetie” you began gently, “it’s kind of a long story. But Grandma and Grandpa are just... protective. They’re not mad at Russell anymore. Or at least, not much.”

Emma’s curious gaze ping-ponged between the two of you. “Why?”

“Okay” you said, sitting on the edge of Emma’s bed and taking a deep breath. “The thing is... Russell didn’t do anything bad. Not really. It’s just... well, a long time ago, before you were born, Russell and I used to–”

“Date…” Russell interjected, apparently deciding to rip the band-aid off.

Emma’s eyes widened. “Date? Like boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Yes” you admitted, your cheeks warming. “Like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

She stared at the two of you, her little brows furrowing as she processed this new information. Then her face lit up with excitement. “Were you married?”

“Whoa, whoa, pump the brakes” you said, holding up your hands. “No, we were not married. We just... used to be together.”

Emma tilted her head again, her expression now puzzled. “Then why are Grandma and Grandpa angry at Russell?”

Russell chuckled nervously. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, kiddo. They’re just... protective of your mom.”

“Very protective” you muttered. You took a deep breath, preparing for the big reveal. “Sweetheart, here’s the thing. After Russell and I stopped being boyfriend and girlfriend… I found out that you were already growing in my belly.”

Emma’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, her mouth forming a perfect O at your carefully selected words. “You mean… like when babies are in tummies?”

You were trying to keep your tone light as you nodded. “Exactly like that.”

Emma tilted her head, her little brow furrowed as she worked it out in her mind. “So… that means… Russell’s my daddy?”

Russell smiled, his heart visibly melting. “Yeah.”

Emma blinked at him, then at you, then back at him, as though she was piecing together the most important puzzle of her life. After a moment of silence, her face broke into a huge grin. “YAY! I have a daddy!”

Emma scooted closer to Russell, wrapping her arms around his neck in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re my daddy now! That means you have to stay forever!”

Russell’s eyes glistened, and he hugged her back tightly. “I’ll be here as much as I can, I promise.”

Emma pulled back slightly, her face lighting up with another burst of excitement. She turned her wide, sparkling eyes up at Russell. “Can we get a dog now, Daddy?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh, for the love of – Emma!”

“What?” she said innocently, looking between you and Russell. “You said no before ‘cause it was just you! But now Daddy can help with the poop!”

Russell burst out laughing, clearly enjoying this too much. “She’s got a point, you know.”

You shot him a look that could have frozen water. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Team Dog!” Emma giggled and Russell ruffled her hair affectionately, somehow steering her to sit back down and continue their Scooby-Doo marathon.

Despite yourself, you took a deep breath, still trying to get your head around the unexpected turn of events.

This was... a lot.

But for some reason, it didn’t feel as overwhelming as it should. Sure, it had been a complete curveball to drop the whole Russell-is-your-dad bombshell, but Emma’s bright smile, the way she’d lit up at the news, somehow made it all feel like it could work.

As Emma giggled, you let out a sigh of relief. This wasn’t how you thought this conversation would go, but somehow, it was already starting to feel a little more like a family.

A very unusual family.

But a family nonetheless.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Next on Tuesday's Gone (Sneak Peek from Chapter 8):

Still, Russell had clearly decided that proximity was his job. He was there nearly every day, and on more than a few nights, too. 

“Just in case” he’d say. You didn’t know, but he loved staying there when the both of you were sound asleep. During those times, he felt an indescribable peace. 

And then there was his latest obsession: fixing everything. It started innocently enough – he noticed a cabinet door hanging loose and gave it a quick tune-up. Then he spotted the wobbly bathroom doorknob. Before long, the guy was like a one-man Home Depot commercial, patching up squeaks and quirks you hadn’t even realized were annoying you.

And at first, you didn’t even notice. But one day, you walked into the kitchen, and something felt... off. Not bad-off, just different. Quieter. 

The cupboards didn’t bang shut anymore, the sticky drawer slid like butter, and that creaky floorboard by the living room? Silent. It was like Russell had decided that if he couldn’t fix all your problems, he’d settle for conquering your house.

And the worst part? It was kind of working.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

I might have giggled all the way while writing it, or maybe I didn’t. But hey, Emma has a dad!

Read Chapter 8 here

🤍Taglist🤍

@bitchykittenconnoisseur @smoothdogsgirl @spnfamily-j2 @winchesterwild78 @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @zepskies @kr804573 @sebastianstangirl01 @kmc1989 @drakelover78 @amberlthomas @lomlbuckybarnes @n-o-p-e-never

[paranoiddreams]

During an Argument (HC)

BTS during an argument 🥲

இ Warnings!! - mentions of alcohol, angst (?), Tae’s is kinda short sorryyyy, emotional stuff lmao, not sure what else to put but Jk’s kinda made me sad

இ A/n!! - Hello!!! This is my first one of these so go easy. Lmk other headcannons I should do, or even send in some prompts for your bias and I’ll write a short one-shot :3. Enjoy~!!!<3

🍡Seokjin🍡

- the type to raise his voice without realizing, I know this struggle all too well since I do the same exact thing

- He is very passionate about the things he believes in, even if it’s a small issue

- He puts aside his pride most of the time with trivial things, but with more serious obstacles in life, he draws a line

- And those lines/boundaries are not to be messed with.

- He will get heated in the moment, but will eventually calm down later and feel really guilty, without completely blaming himself or the other person since he understands everyone has bad days(!!)

- In the same way that he has boundaries, he will make sure to respect the other person he’s arguing with’s boundaries as well.

- Like he knows better than to being up petty off-topic things, and would never deliberately put someone else down in an argument

- He is a little arrogant at times though, and can get lost in his own truth

- But when he cools down and steps away, he thinks with clear emotions, and will not feel ashamed to be the first one to apologize/want to work things out

🥃Yoongi🥃

- never raises his voice, especially with women

- He has a good grip on his anger and emotions, so he’s able to be mature during arguments, which also ultimately makes him really intimidating

- Wins most arguments based off of aura alone lol

- If things do get heated, he’ll leave before he can say anything he’ll regret—because we’re all human, and it happens.

- Goes for a walk or drive, and thinks about things, before going back and trying to fix anything.

- He only does that with people he loves though, if he’s arguing with someone that doesn’t have an important role in his life, he’s quick to drop them lol

- Depending on the argument of course, but he isn’t one to ignore red flags

- Is an active listener, and will genuinely try to hear the other person’s point of view on the argument

- But he does strike me as the type to keep small things that bother him to himself, ultimately creating resentment and other arguments later

- But he’s aware of it and tries not to🥸

- If things get real bad, he’ll start drinking, but never around the person he’s arguing with. He doesn’t wanna be like that around someone he’s upset with, because he knows that things can get carried away quickly when you as alcohol into the mix

- Overall responsive, mature, but cold.

- Takes responsibility and will apologize if need be without any complaints bc he knows when he’s wrong.

☀️Hobi☀️

- scary scary scary

- Idky, but I’ve always seen Hoseok as the type to be passive aggressive

- Like you’ll know before you fight with him bc there will be little hints that he’s angry a few hours before

- He’s very quiet, but that’s probably what makes him even scarier

- He’s firm and dominant with his beliefs, but is also willing to look at things from opposite point of views later on

- Like in the shower the next day or smth lol

- In all reality, he’s cold and guarded during arguments as a defense mechanism, but is a mess on the inside

- Doesn’t like the feeling of being mad at someone he cares about, or vice versa.

- So, he will almost always be the first to apologize, or come to talk about things

- He’s also shameless during argument, as in he will say some harsh things, but will also be apologizing in the same ferocity later

- Strikes me as the type to go out and buy something, or do something for the other person, as a kind of gateway into talking things out

- Not like bribing them out of being angry with him, but to reset and show surrender almost

- Doesn’t like arguing with anyone, so arguments don’t happen often

- But that’s what makes them even scarier when they happen

- Will ultimately feel bad if he scares anyone though, since he relishes in the feeling of making people laugh and feel hope, he hates making those he cares for feel the polar opposite.

- A sweet baby not too long after fights happen, and won’t stay mad for more than a few hours depending on the argument

✒️Namjoon🖋️

- level headed, mature, and brutally honest

- Oh god I think fighting with this man would destroy me the most personally😊

- He is not afraid to call people out on their bs, no matter who tf it is

- Except his parents bc he doesn’t wanna die

- He is cool, calm, and collected, all things he is usually, but during fights it’s just scary

- He’ll speak with an even tone, but be seething on the inside.

- But he is also respectful and considerate, so depending on the argument, he won’t be purposefully mean

- Especially if it’s someone he loves deeply and is close to. Then, he’ll find himself selecting his words very carefully not matter how angry he is

- Is definitely the type to need space for a few days at least, even if he forgives the person

- If it’s simple miscommunication, he’s fine in a few hours. But if it’s anything big that gives off red flags, he’ll disappear for a few days haha

- It’s projection hours ig

- Will talk to his mom about it maybe, just so he can get her opinions

- Will also possibly talk to one of his members, because he knows that they know what’s best for him as well

- Isn’t one to hold grudges although, and wants to fix things right away if possible

- Doesn’t yell much, but his tone does get very firm and intimidating, we’ve all heard it ami

🪞Jimin🪞

- omg sassy lil bitch (affectionately)

- Petty, but not overly to the point of no return

- Strikes me as the type of person to tell his friends closest to him about the argument just to get advice, kinda like Joon, but with literally anyone he talks to regularly lol

- An EYE ROLLER I CAN FEEL IT YALL

- Accidental manipulator🥹

- May or may not relate to this HEHEHE

- Like he doesn’t realize it sometimes, but he will for sure guilt trip sometimes

- Jimin is definitely the most messy fighter out of them, and will not hesitate to cut ties

- That being said, he’s also the one who’d do the most to redeem himself if he was in the wrong

- He will apologize in person, through letter, through gifts, quality time, food, money, he’ll do anything just don’t hate him :(

- But if ur not anyone too important to him, he’s fine he’ll just— 👻👻👻

- Has a particular annoyance with people who can’t take arguments seriously. Like he wants to fight, scream, and cry if it’s serious enough, just so he can get it out now, but if the other person shows they don’t care as much as him, it’ll piss him off even more

- But then he’ll do the same thing and act like he doesn’t care for days🥲

🍁Taehyung🍁

- the type to talk to himself when things get really deep😭😭😭

- I’m talking like little whispers of “you’ve gotta be kidding me,” or “are they serious right now??”

- Also a disappearing act like Joon, but maybe for even longer🙄

- Tata don’t take shit from people anymore. We already know he’s had his share of toxic friends, so he might resort to petty arguments at times

- Is also emotional, so can say a lot of things he doesn’t mean

- He’s also a guilty conscience like Hobi, and will most likely be the first to apologize depending on where he stands in the argument

- The type to cry—whether it be from sadness, anger, or just pure frustration, he will have tears in his eyes

- Also strikes me as an eye roller and pacer🥲

- Tata feels like the type to care way too much, or not at all, and most of the time it’s the latter

- So most arguments with him end up being one sided at some point bc he’ll just stop giving a fuck😭

- Jimin and him fight the most, but are also coincidentally the most sappy when they make up

🎤Jungkook🎤

- this one is surprisingly hard to write because I really don’t see Koo getting into too many arguments

- He’s a very go-with-the-flow kinda guy, so he doesn’t find himself in those situations too often

- But when he does, he goes very quiet, and almost seems like he’s not listening

- But he is, and maybe a little too much, because he’s only quiet so his brain can race around with negative thoughts

- I think he can get annoyed pretty fast with certain things, and can have an attitude in certain situations though

- But I can see him being better now, since he’s older and more mature

- Like Yoongi, a drinker, but not around the person he’s in an argument with

- He also might just be a journal-venter!!!

- Idk, maybe in his phone notes, or he just vents to his friends through text, but either way, he’s gonna vent his feelings through writing.

- Can’t stay mad for more than a day if it’s someone he really cares about :(

- Like if it’s any of the bts members or his parents/brother, he’s already over it before the argument even ends

- Which is why he can look like a push over sometimes when he gives into the other person too quickly, but in all reality he just doesn’t care anymore and wants to stop fighting

- Gives the same vibes as that one video like, “I suddenly just remembered…I don’t gaf…”

- One of those people who is very dramatic emotionally :,)

- We all know the rain incident with chim 😭💔

DISCLAIMER!! I do not know any of the bts members in real life so these are all interpretations and written purely for entertainment purposes.

[captain-pheonix]

Currently menstruating, id like to see the TF2 men (or support classes) experience the wild ups and down of mother nature when Reader lashes out at them over something comically stupid and then starts crying dramatically out of guilt for being so mad. Then goes back to happy and normal a moment later. Because i am an emotional wreck when the blood flows and i need an outlet for it. Thank youuu!!! Angle 📐 😇🪽

A/N: I know your pain bbg ❤️ tysm for sending it in Angle! I did a sort of half oneshot half headcannons thing, hope that’s ok, here you are! (Sorry this took a bit, life had been terrible recently)

Warnings: talk of menstruation (duh)

Scout:

- Whenever your on your period he would probably go to Medic for advice and some remedies

- He might think it’s really gross but he knows you can’t really control it after he got it explained to him

- He might notice if something is a little off about you that day

- Maybe by the way you seem annoyed or you trying to fight a fed up expression

- Most likely you would just be hanging out in his room at the base, laying in his bed and Scout drawing in a notebook, chatting with you

“Hey, d’you wanna try drawin’ somethin’? I’ll teach ya!”

“Oh, sure? Why not.”

- While you two are drawing you start having trouble following along with him

- The lines don’t match up with the ones you draw next and you start getting annoyed

- Eventually, you snap and just tear the paper in half

“Why are you such a good artist!? It’s unfair!”

- You get up off the bed and start pacing around, uncontrollably fuming

- After going from one wall to the other, you look back up at Scout’s crestfallen expression, sad kicked puppy eyes with a hint of realization

- The tears start falling and Scout smiles and lets out a little sigh, and beckons you to come sit beside him

“Hey, sweetness. C’mere.”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s all good. I get it. Just let me take care of you.”

- Scout presses a kiss to your forehead

Sniper:

- Would likely enjoy it quite a bit if you just wanted a few lazy days with him

- He might go get candy and snacks to take care of you for the week

- He might not fully understand how periods work but he’s probably heard some things

- you two could hang out in his camper and read magazines/listen to music/cuddle

- maybe you start thinking about how you have chores to do and how you’re not doing anything

“Jeez, what is wrong with me? Why can’t I just get up and do dishes or something?”

“It’s alright, roo. You have all the time in the world. Just rest.”

“But—I mean c’mon, I have to do something.”

“Well, do ya feel up to it?”

“Uh…no, I’m in a lot of pain, but—“

“So don’t.”

- the feeling that you need to something starts making you feel bad about yourself and you start silently crying and trying to wipe your tears away

- when Sniper notices he gets concerned and wraps his arms around you

“Hey, hey, you alright?”

“Yeah, heh, sorry. Stupid hormones.”

- Sniper just huffs a laugh and keeps hugging you

Demoman:

- ok let’s be real he would offer you some booze for the pain and stuff

- a movie night would work nicely, because demo could probably pass out sometime during it and it would be a calm night

- the characters in the movie start making you angry, but weirdly angry

“Why do we have to watch this? It never ends up well for the main character! This is depressing!”

“Uh..We could watch something else, ya know.”

“WHY AM I SO ANGRY ALL OF A SUDDEN? WHY DO WE HAVE TO WATCH THIS STUPID THING?!”

- Demo turns off the TV

- you start crying after realizing you snapped at him

“Wait—no no I’m sorry.”

“Hey, lad/lass, c’mere.”

- Demo and you end up cuddling and then both passing out on the couch

Spy:

- I feel like he might know a bit about periods

- But it would really gross him out

- At least he might romance and charm you to make you feel better

- 100% get you fine wine and snacks to make you feel special and loved

- Lounging in his smoking room 10/10, might even offer you some of his special cigars or something if you smoke

- Treats you like high royalty

- Probably goes to medic for painkillers and other things to make you feel better

- Totally a chance to learn to dance to some music on the record player in his smoking room

- I feel like making a bunch of mistakes would set you off

“This isn’t working. Why aren’t my feet working? You’re the best teacher there could be, what am I doing so wrong!?”

- You break away from Spy and hide your tears by turning away from him

“Mon Chérie, are you alright?”

- He walks back in front of you to see you crying

“I’m...sorry.”

- Spy gives you a forehead kiss and wraps you in a warm embrace

- 10003939/10 gentleman he rubs your back until you feel better

Heavy:

- Heavy would likely not care at all, growing up with 4 other women for most of his life

- Considering this he would probably be at least a little educated

- Any questions he had would likely be answered by Medic

- I feel like Heavy would be one of the most understanding mercs

- At Heavy’s turn for making dinner, you decide to go help him because you feel like you’ve been lazy all day

- You burn your hand and start cussing wholeheartedly

“Am I just that bad at cooking!? I’m honestly so useless. Why can’t you teach me to be better!?”

- Heavy’s just straight up confused for a second

“Oh..oh no. I’m sorry.”

- tears start falling

“Is ok. Heavy understands.”

- bear hugs and then finishing up dinner <3

Medic:

- Bro has every remedy on hand and definitely tracks it for you

- So he would already know hormonal vs. Actually being mean/sad

- A good scenario might be a lazier day when you just hang out in his lab, and he educates you more on what he’s doing and why

- It starts you feeling like you’re not good enough and that Medic is so much better at his job than you

“And das how it’s done! Fascinating, ja?”

“Yeah. I guess I just wish I could do all this great stuff like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, c’mon, you know everything! You know so much you can just do surgery on someone and everything works out!”

“Well, it’s not that simple,—are you crying?”

- You just nod

“Ah. Come here, mein liebling.”

- gives you hugs and kisses until you’re better 🥰

———————————

Thank you for reading!! Again, I’m so sorry that took so damn long. I’m getting back into writing today!

[templeofvengeance]

☽ Welcome to the Temple of Vengeance! Greatest of the Great Gods, Khonshu, presiding. ☾

☽ Inbox: Open ☾

[Indie RP/Ask blog for Khonshu from the MCU's Moon Knight. Set after the show ends by default, but also open to other verses. Follows from youtriggeredmytrapcard. More info on the blog, or under the cut for mobile users.]

Updated: 4/28/25 (Mostly rewording things)

Laws of the Temple

☽ BASICS ☾

- MUN STUFF: My name's Kew! She/they, well over 21. No triggers. I only speak English fluently and any other languages will be google translate. Please forgive any mistakes.

- If you want to interact, my DMs are open for questions/plotting!

- FOR MINORS: I'm not going to be super strict about weeding out minors since things aren't going to get smutty around here, but NSFW topics could still come up, and the show Khonshu is from does explore some darker themes. You've been warned.

- CONTENT WARNING FOR: Descriptions of violence, religious stuff, swearing, emotional manipulation, ableism (especially surrounding mental health stuff.) I’ll try to tag other things as they come up.

- SPOILERS FOR MOON KNIGHT EVERYWHERE. There will be untagged spoilers for both the comics and especially the show.

- GENERAL RP ETIQUETTE: Don't make actions for my character without asking, don't assume past relationships/deep history without asking, don't read my character's mind, etc. - FEEL FREE TO REBLOG MEMES FROM ME. It actually helps me remember to send stuff out.

- NOT PRIVATE, BUT SELECTIVE: I sometimes don't follow big multimuses back since I have pretty strict tastes in fandoms, and I don't want to clog my dash with characters I don't know. That doesn't mean I don't want to roleplay with you though! As for selectivity, I reserve the right to say no if things just don't click writing-wise.

- KHONSHU IS AN ASSHOLE. Nothing he says reflects my real views about anything. If he’s mean to you, it doesn’t mean I don’t like you or you’ve done something wrong.

- FOR OTHER MOON KNIGHT SYSTEM MUSES: By default, I'll play Khonshu like he's connected to your muses. If you want it to be dimension-hopping shenanigans (which I'm super down to do, especially for ones more heavily based on the comics), let me know! All these interactions will be on different verses, and I don't plan to have Khonshu be 'mains' with any muses.

- FIGHTS: With rare exceptions, I'm just gonna say no to fight threads with Khonshu. Partly because he's incorporeal and really can't be hurt or hurt anyone else directly. Mostly because fighting other muses has always stressed me out. If it's something you really want to do, we can talk about it. (This doesn't mean your character can't attack Khonshu ever, it just means it probably won't work.)

☽ MUSE INFO ☾

NAME: Khonshu OTHER NAMES: Chons, Bloody pigeon, Silly old bird (He accepts none of those) PRONOUNS: He/him HEIGHT: Varies, usually around 8-10 feet tall. WEIGHT: N/A (Incorporeal, like a ghost) AGE: Four billion, give or take

- KHONSHU is the Egyptian god of the moon, vengeance, and healing, a minor god of time, among other smaller things. While he is enormously powerful in theory, he’s mostly unable to affect the physical world without use of a mortal AVATAR, dubbed his MOON KNIGHT. Those who agree to be his Avatar are granted superpowers and near-invulnerability, in exchange for agreeing to carry out his mission: Bringing his vengeance against those who harm the travelers of the night.

- Khonshu is also somehow a billions-year-old grumpy baby who flips over trash cans when he doesn’t get his way.

- By default, Khonshu's current Avatar is JAKE LOCKLEY, only. Jake will make cameos on this blog when necessary, and you can request him in asks if you want. (For writing Jake, I don't have DID, so any attempt to reference/portray it is based on the comics and show. I don't write Marc or Steven.)

- Normally, only his Avatar (or Avatars of other gods) are capable of seeing/hearing Khonshu, but let’s say this blog is a holy space where he can answer your prayers questions. (In threads, we can always bullshit a reason your character can see Khonshu.)

- This Khonshu is HEAVILY BASED ON THE DISNEY+ SHOW, which means he lacks a lot of the harsher history his comic book counterpart has. However, some bits of comic lore have been added/built upon, especially his fraught history with his father, AMON-RA.

[pitchforksraised]

~

Hello!! Welcome to my intro post!

The name’s Announza! Feel free to view my pronoun page here for info on, well, me!

~

Donation asks are unfortunately out of the picture. I do not answer asks relating to topics like Palestine, I reblog them. I am not capable of donating, and I’m afraid of answering a scam. Please respect this or you’re getting blocked.

~ LISTS ~

DO NOT INTERACT: — Anyone on a basic DNI list — If you’re on any basic DNI list — If your blog is 18+, NSFW / NSFT, minors DNI, etc — If your blog is centered around any kind of discourse — If you enforce or heavily pressure your religion onto others — If you actively support a problematic person / people — If you support AI art — If I blocked you (I blocked you for a reason. <3) — Selfcest shippers (Selfcest makes me EXTREMELY uncomfortable.) [Note that this may change overtime, and that I do NOT support ANY problematic creator of games / videos / misc for their actions. I simply like what they have created and interact with content made by other fans.]

THIN ICE: — If you ship mirrormystery / Rodger x Glisten (I personally hc them as related and dislike this ship heavily. I don’t care if you do ship it, just don’t bring it up around me, please.) — If you ship host x contestant (It generally makes me uncomfy for some reason I can’t describe well. I don’t mind if you ship anything of the sort as long as it ain’t problematic, just don’t bring it up to me pls.) [This may be updated in the future. This is all I have for now.]

BEFORE YOU INTERACT / NOTES: — I am a minor. Don’t be weird or else that block button is getting pressed instantly. <3 — I am very emotionally unstable. I’m trying to work on my anger management, so I apologize on my own part if I say or do anything dumb, because my emotions are quite literally what I base my decisions off of. — tone tags are my life support please use them or some kind of tone indicator — I likely have ADHD (hyperactive impulsive) and fucking up reading seems to be one of my main hobbies!! Be patient with me please. — I enjoy condensing my speech a lot. If you need me to restate things in a mostly grammatically correct manner, I will! — I will correct your grammar, it’s wired into my silly lil brain I’m sorry lmao — Mass liking and reblogging is my way of showing care. If you don’t like it, please tell me, because I’ll stop as soon as you ask me to. — I refer to characters I like and relate to a lot as “me”, especially Pitchfork from AIB, Razzle and Dazzle from Dandy’s World and Quintagon from TPC. If you ever have a problem with this, PLEASE let me know. I myself am not a fictionkin, fictive or anything of the sort, so if this ever becomes a problem to you I’ll change it asap. — I will probably rant about women from random games from time to time (I love women) — Sometimes I replicate speech patterns, mannerisms and accents of characters I really like lol — I genuinely think I have a more minor case of theophobia (the fear of god or religion, religion in my case) so please keep religious topics five miles away from me or else I’ll get all awkward and nervous

~

that’s really all you need to know, but there’s more under the cut if you want it ^_^

~

Here’s just a whole list of stuff I enjoy lol. Stuff I REALLY like is bolded

— Object shows (more specifically AIB) — Dandy’s World — Just Shapes n’ Beats — The Pink Corruption (I consider them two different things. If you don’t like this, don’t fight me over it; just DNI and move on, please.) — Pikuniku (I love this stupid game SO MUCH I could ramble abt it for hours) — Bugbo — Sprunki — Pressure — The Robloxia: Until Dawn — PHIGHTING! — Mouthwashing — ENA — Baba is You — Parkour Civilization (100% unironic btw lmao /srs) — Kaleidoscope — Forsaken — Outlaws of Robloxia

~ TAGS ~ Note: may change lmao,,, they change too much I’m sorry!!!!

Checkin the mail! — Inbox answers

Showing you my art! — Art posts! (No ai. fuck off ai /gen)

Talkshow sillies — Stupid shenaniganry posts

~

ty for reading !1! have some user boxes on your way out :3 [ CREDITS LIST (May not be in order): 1 (me) 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 ]

~

[sinclairmaxwellao3]

HERE WE GOOOOO!

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

A: Ugh. My very first rendition of By Deaths To Die in the HP fandom. It was just C R I N G E. That or my HP/Undertaker fanfic? Yikes.

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

A: T R A G ED Y, BABY! XD I love the angst.

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

A: Pretty much any time Eclipse is on screen in Lambs and Slaughters. xD He’s the funniest character, in my opinion.

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

A: Do cliffhangers count? xD

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

A: Only Google Docs spell check unfortunately. 

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

A: Loss, for sure. My dad died this past fall after a long and painful battle with cancer and so that’s been something that’s been a common theme in my writing ever since his diagnosis. 

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

A: Oh gosh! So far, probably either of my Blood Moon/Sun stories! They are the best! :)

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

A: I love my writing and it’s so fun! :3 Whether it’s been my novels or my fics, I just love it!

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

A: I like them! As long as that’s not the whole focus, you know? So much good stuff comes after the first kiss in a relationship! And not just the sex part either. The juicy, emotional stuff!

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

A: Yes! Though my choices do not always mesh. xD Hazbin Hotel soundtrack and Breaking Benjamin! LOL.

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

A: I know its base, but I use just Goggle Docs. That way I can go from writing on my computer to writing on the go on my phone when I need and it autosyncs.

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

A: The aforementioned HP By Deaths To Die fic unfortunately. What I did write on it is still up for posterity’s sake but I’m not interested in continuing it. I’ve lost interest in writing for that fandom over the years so I don’t imagine I’ll go back to it. But who knows!

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

A: Yeah, I’m not particularly shy about it but there are very few people I will discuss the details with. Only people like my bestie and my sister that I know won’t judge me (because they read/write it too xD).

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

A: This one is easy! I wrote a story called Whispers of Another Soul (it may be my only ever rated G fic actually xD) for my daughter that’s about a proto-M.X.E.S. meeting and making friends with Moon and eventually Sun via the network we see in the FNAF: SB Ruin DLC. I wanted to write something that she could read and she has me read it to her at bed time pretty regularly so I may just have to have it hardbound for her bookshelf. :)

🍷 Do you drink and write?

A: Yep! On occasion! Usually though, it’s just coffee but I do enjoy wine or a beer after dinner and I’m usually writing then. 

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

A: Hoooooo yeah I do. xD To date, since I started writing online in 2007, my most popular fic with spice was my HP/Supernatural fic called His Companion Was The Grave but my favorite spicy works to write overall have been my Blood Moon/Sun ones in The Sun and Moon Show Fandom!

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

A: Aaaaalllll day every day. Surprisingly, it takes me a while to get a chapter out (Even longer if I’m trying to listen to things while I do or if my daughter is out of school) which, given my honestly absurd writing schedule, probably surprises my regular readers. I sit at my laptop for hours and hours. It’s honestly probably pretty unhealthy and come July, I’m going to be cutting my schedule down to twice a week instead of every other day.

💖 What made you start writing?

A: I’ve been fascinated by writing since fourth grade when I realized that “Holy shit, I can make anything happen on paper, any kind of world and person!”. It was like…the greatest epiphany of my life. We were doing a creative writing section in my class and I’ve never looked back. Thank you, Mr. Madison. All of the shameless literary porn I’ve put out into the world is all thanks to you. xD

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

A: They are my favorite part of writing! :D I only actually started Tumblr at all because my readers wanted a place for easier audience engagement and I am super active in my comments sections! I love seeing fanart of my work and people making fics based on mine or inspired by it. It’s so flattering and I love it so much! :)

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

A: Ugggggghhhhhhh. Maybe the “Chosen One” trope or the “Insta-Love even though we were sworn enemies our whole lives” bullcrap. Relationships need struggle! And character growth! Go forth and trauma bond but don’t skip over the good stuff like the character/relationship development! Oh! Ending it all with “it was just a dream”. Yeah no. Just don’t.

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

A: Well I’m not an artist but yeah sure! If it was writing commissions! :) That could be fun!

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

A: Oh yeah. For my original Thaumaturgy novel trilogy I spent weeks researching. The same with any of my fics, really. 

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

A: To date, it is my Companion Is The Grave Hp/Supernatural fic but it has been up for several years now and both of those fandoms are MASSIVE so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

A: I haven’t yet but I’m not opposed to it. :)

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

A: Yes! I have one reader in particular that is really good at it! :) You know who you are! ;) 

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

A: I LOOOVVVEEEEEE IIITTTTTT! FEEEEEEEEEDDD MEEEEEEEE! XD But seriously, there are fanart has actually inspired some of my most beloved scenes! QuirkyFries has done so, so many amazing pieces for my work (like fifteen or so now?) and was the very first person to ever make fanart of my work. :) It’s super flattering.

📈 How many fics do you have?

A: As of this post, 50 on Ao3 though I’m not sure I ported over all of my fics from FFN when I migrated over. I started on FFN in 2007 and on Ao3 in mid 2012.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

A: Outline, every time. If I don’t, I won’t finish them.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

A: I’m so stoked for MerMay! I’m doing a TSAMS/Subnautica fic with Leviathan boys! It will feature Blood Moon/Sun, Kill Code/Moon, and Eclipse/Solar/Ruin. ;)

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

A: Don’t let the flames get you down but be willing to take constructive criticism. Not everyone who tells you that there are ways to make your work better is doing it to be mean-spirited. Your readers are one of your most valuable resources! :) Also, READ! Read long and read different things! Take note of what you like to see and what makes the reading easier to take in. That will help you learn how to format your own work better than almost anything. 

💞 Who's your comfort character?

A: Sun and Moon. Definitely. xD

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

A: Uh…Blood Moon! Go!

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

A: I have so many! I really enjoy writing Kill Code and Eclipse right now. :)

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

A: Probably not in this post but I actually post snippets and such from my works here all the time so stay tuned! ;) 

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

A: Oh my fucking-. xD Uhhhh…Most of them that are really spicy I guess? Probably my A/B/O ones? Or the super kinky ones? xD Actually, no, maybe that aforementioned HP/Undertaker one. God, that is so fucking embarrassing. 

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

A: Whether people enjoy it! :) 

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

A: Certain turns of phrase, especially when it comes to spicy scenes. xD It’s something I’m very conscious of and trying to remedy. 

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

A: I would love that so much! I’ve published four novels but I self-published and the biggest part of self-publishing is ADVERTISING and I’m just honestly fucking horrible at that? xD However, my works are available on Amazon and Kindle with one novel for teen audiences and the trilogy for adults! :) I can be found under the pseud C.L. McReynolds. <3

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

A: Mmmmm…it depends. Some are longer than others but my current writing schedule is every other day. 

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

A: Hmm…I guess…political stuff? And the mystery genre is kind of tough for me. 

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

A: Yes. In ‘For What Is Grief But Love…Persevering?’, my Solar tribute. I fucking bawled during that fic because it brought up so many of my feelings about losing my dad at the end of October and a lot of those feelings are still really raw, you know? It explores a lot of themes of grief and Jack’s new sentience coming to life at the same time that they lose Solar and he just doesn’t understand what he’s feeling and experiencing and WHY.

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

A: I don’t mind constructive criticism at all! But if you’re just being a dick, well…Go eat rocks, I guess? xD

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

A: I love funny tags. xD Like…’Enthusiastic But Uninformed Consent’ xD Or ‘Technically masturbation?’. I’ve been using the ‘cannibalism’ tag a lot writing for Blood Moon. Also ‘Polyamory’. xD

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

A: YES! ASK ME ALL THE THINGS! I LOVE IT! XD Any and all reader interaction I live off of.

Fanfic Writer Emoji Ask

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists?

🥺 Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🛒 What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

✨ Give you and your writing a compliment. Go on now. You know you deserve it. 😉

💋 First kiss fics. Love em or hate em?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🛠What tools/programs/apps do you use to write?

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

🍷 Do you drink and write?

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

💖 What made you start writing?

💌 How do you feel about comments and feedback?

❌ What's a trope you will never write?

💲 Would you ever open commissions?

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

🏆 What's your most popular fic?

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

🎨 How do you feel about fan art of your stories?

📈 How many fics do you have?

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

💞 Who's your comfort character?

🧠 Pick a character, and I'll tell you my favorite headcanon for them.

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

😬 Which of your fics would you be most horrified for friends, family, or coworkers to stumble upon?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

📚 Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

🤯 What's a genre you struggle with as a writer (ex. romance, action, etc.)?

💔 Is there a fic of yours that broke your heart?

💥 How do you feel about criticism?

🤭 Do you have a favorite tag to use when posting your works?

🥰 How do you feel about reader interaction? Are you open to receiving questions about your fics?

[ackackh]

14, 18, 22 and/or dealer's choice, if you're up to it!

I think, based on timing, this was meant for the writer’s ask. However! If you meant this for the one I just posted that’s like, random questions, just tell me and I’ll answer those as well!

14. Where do you get your inspiration?

Well, in the immortal words of George Luz, I have no idea! But, uh, no, I guess I get my inspiration from primarily visual art and nature. I have a million images saved to my phone of paintings or even just visual edits of scenes and whatnot, mostly that illicit a specific emotion or feeling. Lots and lots of portraits that make me wonder about the subject, y’know? Plus music! The amount of times I’ve heard a random line from The Mountain Goats and been like, oh that’s so (insert character), truly embarrassing. And I will not stop.

18. If you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

Oh, god this is where I’m like 😖 because I usually delete it because I don’t think it’s good! But here, I’ll be brave. I literally don’t remember writing this bit from God Is a Bluegill

Colbert collects them and Ray is tossed on the bed where his head begins to still and he watches Fick speak to Ms. Godfrey low and sweet-like as she assures her safety. When he finishes he whips his gaze back to Ray and his party, presses his mouth into a stern line, asking, “How did you know about the money?”

Sloppy all over, Ray replies, “In the jailhouse, I heard your plan.”

“Jailhouse? That was you in there, huh?”

“Me ’n Walt over there,” Ray gestures, “Pleasant is just a strong companion.”

22. Do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? How do you get past that?

YES. Pretty much all artists I know are their own worst critics, including yours truly. I’m nervous just posting that little deleted bit up there! But the only way for me to get past it is to go, fuck it, and publish it anyway. It’s worth understanding that you’ll always be evolving and getting better, your tastes will change and sometimes you’ll look back at something you’ve written and be like, what moron would make that? But then sometimes you’ll look back at your former self and their work like a parent. Like, damn that kid was talented, and you can see the bits and pieces in your old works that contributed to what you grew into. IDK I guess I’m just saying that if you’re your own worst critic (and you definitely are, we all are) and you like your stuff well enough, then someone out there will probably love it.

OKAY I’ve officially had too much caffeine today! I’m sorry for turning this into a monster of a post. I’m sorry for apologizing, too! Peace and love on planet earth 🌎 I hope you have a great day, my dude!

[sojourners-melancholy]

my interpretation of the myers briggs typing bc 16personalities lowkey sucks and no one really explains it in a way that actually makes sense:

there are four categories of personalities as we know: E/I (how we socialize), N/S (how we perceive the world), F/T (how we process our emotions), P/J (how we do things)

the difference between the two options is that one is spontaneous and the other is structured. i’ll break down each letter below the cut

E: you’re spontaneous abt socializing. you gain energy from talking to ppl, so you socialize on a whim and figure out who you like and don’t like by talking to them.

I: you’re structured abt socializing. talking to ppl tires you out, so you’re calculated with where you spend your energy. you try to avoid ppl you don’t like or know very well so you’re not drained by the time you actually talk to ppl you do like.

N: you’re spontaneous abt how you perceive the world. you go off of ideas and concepts, so you like reading books, watching shows, and stuff like that. you listen to music for the lyrics. guided more by ideals and values.

S: you’re structured abt how you perceive the world. you like experiencing things for yourself, and you’re hobbies are more of the “doing” type (sports, crochet, playing instruments). you listen to music for the sound/feel of it. guided more by personal experiences and stories.

F: you’re spontaneous abt how you process to your emotions. you have a tendency to act rashly based on your current emotions and have trouble controlling them instead of letting them control you.

T: you’re structured abt how you process to your emotions. you have a tendency to rationalize them and have trouble actually “feeling” them instead of thinking them through.

P: you’re spontaneous abt how you do things. you don’t do schedules unless it’s school/work and even then you have a tendency to be late. you do things when you want to, or till the very last minute. you’ll probably buy a concert/plane ticket on a whim.

J: you’re structured abt how you do things. you use agendas, google calendar, and anything else to plan what you’re going to do. assignments, projects/essays, and homework are done when they’re supposed to. you plan out trips and your college semesters extensively.

[cleverclove]

hiii do you think i should make a hamlet rp sideblog too? as… osric? (i would hype laertes up so much)

OMG YOU SHOULD! :D tell me if you do and if you need any sprites or smth! 💟

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

broke down: A Safe Place to Land one-shot - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 2.5k words. One-shot in the A Safe Place to Land universe. y/n's car breaks down and Bradley is determined to make sure she's okay. (time line stuff: ch. 1 takes place in september 2019, ch. 5 is set in december of 2019, and this one-shot occurs in april of 2022.)

Warnings: car issues, bradley being a Stress Protective Fiancé, uH angst i guess? lots & lots of fluff. also sexism

a/n: hi y'all! it's been a moment lol. this story has been floating around in my noggin since november-ish & i'm so glad i finally wrote it out. enjoy! <3

series master list | master list

Shit. y/n muttered under her breath as she pulled her car off to the side of the road. Two warning lights lit up on the dashboard and a disconcerting noise started echoing from underneath the hood before she brought the vehicle to a stop. Based on the thin smoke rising from the crevice between the body of the car and its hood, y/n had a feeling she wasn’t going to make it the final stretch of her drive.

It had already been such a long day and y/n was really, really looking forward to seeing her fiancé and downing a cold beer or two. Or three. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out of her usually trustworthy car and popped the hot-to-the-touch hood. Smoke clouded her vision and she coughed–this was definitely an issue she couldn’t resolve by herself.

After dialing roadside assistance, y/n called Bradley. The phone hadn’t even rung twice before he picked up, his warm hello being slightly muffled by the lively crowd in The Hard Deck.

“Hey Roos,” y/n sighed. She tried to hide the exhaustion in her tone, but Rooster picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Dammit. This man could read her like a damn book. The aviator furrowed his brow and sat up straight in the chair he’d been occupying. The rest of the squad was bordering on boisterous after the several drinks they’d downed and were more focused on an intense game of nine-ball. y/n rubbed her temple and thought about how to best tell him and avoid him freaking out. She loved him to the ends of the earth, but he was a worrier.

“I’m fine! It’s nothing, really…” she trailed off. Her frustration and emotions got the best of her, so it all spilled out at once. “Actually, my car broke down so I called for a tow truck and I’m gonna be late meeting up with you guys at the Hard Deck so I’ll probably just head home after this because I’m so tired and-” Rooster’s eyes widened at the jumble of words y/n rushed out.

“Where are you?” Bradley cut her off before she could work herself up anymore. y/n could hear movement in the background and she instantly felt guilty. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt him while he was having a well-deserved night out with his friends.

“It doesn’t matter. I just wanted to let you know that I probably won’t make it to the bar tonight. This might take a while,” y/n huffed. Her nerves were shot and above all, she just wanted to go home. Sure, a night out with her fiancé and their friends would be nice, but a warm bath and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s would be much nicer.

“y/n. Where. are. you?” Bradley asked slowly, punctuating each word. His voice was low and left no room for argument. y/n had only heard him speak that way a handful of times since she’d known him–all of which were times he thought she might be in trouble.

So she told him her location. She had pulled off on the edge of some backroad she was taking in hopes of it being a shortcut. Instead, she was now thanking her lucky stars that she had barely enough cell reception to call the tow service and Bradley.

Rooster cursed–y/n was alone in the middle of nowhere and it would be dark soon. A dozen scenarios went through his mind at once and none of them were good.

In a few long strides, the aviator crossed the room towards the bar without so much as a goodbye to his friends. He fished enough cash out of his wallet to cover his tab and then some as he flagged down Penny. The worried expression and his rushed movements, while his phone was pinched between his shoulder and ear, had Penny moving cautiously to tend to him, foregoing some of the other customers before him. She’d hardly accepted the cash from his hand before he offered her a tight smile and jogged out of the bar.

“I’m coming to pick you up,” he said with finality. y/n’s brow furrowed and she started pacing alongside her car.

“What? No, Bradley. Stay out with your friends. Have a good time, you deserve to let loose. I’ll see you at home, okay?” If he weren’t so focused on getting to y/n, he might’ve noticed the warmth that spread through his chest anytime his fiancée mentioned their shared home.

Rooster was typically far more gentle with the Bronco than he was right then, but that was hardly a thought in his mind when he pulled his keys out and shoved them into the door lock. y/n inwardly groaned as she heard the tell-tale sign of his old car’s door slamming and the engine turning over.

“Nope. No. I’m not going to be able to relax or think about anything else until I know you’re okay. I’ll be there in 15 minutes, tops.” He peeled out of the parking lot, pulling onto the main road before he’d even finished his sentence.

y/n blew out a heavy breath and dragged her palm down her face before stopping short. She pulled her phone away from her ear and checked the GPS route she recently had open.

Your location to The Hard Deck Bar – 24 minutes via State Road…

“I am okay. And it’s over a 20 minute drive to where you are,” y/n sighed. She had no doubt that Bradley would be able to beat the estimated time of 24 minutes, but shaving almost 10 minutes off seemed a little outlandish, even for the fighter pilot.

Rather than reminding his fiancée that he routinely flew planes at over 1,000 mph, he simply grunted out “I said what I said” and pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal.

Bradley stayed on the phone with y/n while he drove. Based on the unmistakable sound of the Bronco’s engine revving and cars honking because Rooster had cut them off, it was easy to assume he was breaking a handful of traffic laws.

Otherwise, the call was relatively quiet. Bradley broke the silence every few minutes to ask if y/n was okay–she hummed yes, Roos each time. He asked her if there was anyone lingering around or coming up to her–No, there’s literally no one out here. Her fiancé couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

y/n huffed in frustration when she tried to unsuccessfully start her car for the umpteenth time. Just as she rested her head on the steering wheel with crestfallen resignation, she caught a set of all too familiar headlights in her rearview mirror. The nurse felt a bittersweet smile creep onto her face. She was happy to see Bradley, she always was, but she couldn’t help the sinking guilty feeling that he cut his night out short because of her. y/n slowly climbed out of the car and really felt the exhaustion hit her this time around. Now that Bradley was here, she didn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder and was able to let her guard down a bit. 

By the time she closed the door behind her, he’d already crossed the distance from the Bronco to her car. Bradley wore a sympathetic smile when eyes met y/n’s. Something about the loving look in his eyes had y/n holding back tears. The aviator wordlessly pulled y/n into his chest and she gladly went along with it, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist.

“I’m sorry, Brad. I didn’t mean to ruin your night,” y/n’s words were muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. Bradley tutted and brought a hand up to massage her shoulders where he knew she got tense often.

“You don’t need to be sorry, baby. I’m glad you called me,” he pressed a kiss against y/n’s hair before resting his chin atop her head. They stood wrapped in each other's arms for a moment, silently swaying side to side. y/n was still nuzzled against Bradley’s chest when he patted her back before pulling away and moved toward the hood of her car.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw knows his plane inside and out. This extended to cars as well. He’s been under the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco more times than he cares to count, so he’s familiar with working on cars, to say the least. Maybe if this whole flying thing didn’t work out, he could be a mechanic.

Rooster waved the remaining smoke away from his face when he popped the hood of the car. He’d hardly been glancing around the various parts before a particular problem caught his eye. He stood back and rested his hands on either hip. There wasn’t much that puzzled him, but it was certainly an interesting sight, he thought as he tilted his head to the side.

“This drive belt is damn near shredded. When was the last time you got your car serviced?” Rooster asked innocently. When y/n blushed and wouldn’t meet his eyes, his face dropped. The aviator rubbed his temple. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like her answer.

He produced a rag out of seemingly thin air and pulled the engine’s dipstick and wiped it off before checking the oil. He held the dipstick up to catch the remainder of the setting sun’s light and frowned–the oil was definitely below where it should be.

y/n was scratching the back of her neck now, looking increasingly sheepish.

“y/n?” Bradley asked expectantly. He wasn’t being condescending, but y/n felt like she was in trouble.

“Umm… I took her to get serviced not long after Lover came out. I sat in the waiting area and listened to the album like 3 times in a row.” Rooster did some math before his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

“When Lover came ou- baby, that was over two years ago?!” Bradley said incredulously, mouth agape. Before dating y/n, Rooster didn’t know much of anything about Taylor Swift. Eventually, his then-girlfriend started purchasing her own vinyl records and Taylor Swift’s music became regular in the rotation. Whether Bradley liked it or not, he learned some Swiftie lore. And, being the history nerd that he was, he remembered almost all of it. The album release dates had eventually wormed their way into his mind as well.

“I know! I know, but I literally only ever drive to work because we take the Bronco everywhere else so it didn’t matter that much…” y/n raised her hands defensively. Her voice trailed off towards the end; even she knew it was a bad excuse. Rooster slid a hand down his face in exasperation and smoothed out his mustache above his tight-lipped frown.

“Honey, what if you broke down or worse while I was deployed? I-” Rooster sighed. He stopped himself before he went on a tangent that might upset y/n. Nothing was worth arguing over right then so he let the topic rest. Bradley made a mental note to schedule a servicing for her car the following day.

The tow truck y/n called for pulled up just in time to avoid what was heading toward a tense conversation. When the driver approached the pair, he hardly spared Rooster a second glance initially; he was too focused on dragging his eyes across y/n’s body in a way that made her skin crawl. Bradley puffed out his chest and took a step forward, redirecting the man’s attention. The aviator’s movement allowed the remainder of the sun’s dwindling light to sparkle against y/n’s sizable engagement ring. She doubted that was Rooster’s intention, but she smirked nonetheless.

The tow truck driver posed his questions to Bradley. The much taller and tanned man was about to respond when y/n cleared her throat and stepped forward. It was her car, after all.

The driver was surprised. The hint of a grimy grin spread across his face.

“Alright, little lady,” he snickered. Strike one.

y/n took the man’s questions in stride. She knew the answers to most of them; she wasn’t dumb. Just because she procrastinated on her car’s maintenance didn’t mean she was clueless about her vehicle. Rooster was confident that she could handle herself in the conversation, so he hung back with his hand resting on her lower back protectively.

Some of the more unnecessarily specific questions were aimed to trip y/n up–Rooster knew it, and y/n pieced it together pretty quickly. Strike two. Good for y/n, and disappointingly for the sexist tow truck operator, y/n was very good at bullshitting her way to the right answer every time and had an unrivaled poker face.

Rooster smirked, impressed. His little spitfire was doing what she did best–putting men in their place.

The driver eventually huffed in annoyance. He clearly lost their verbal sparring match, so he set out to do his actual job and leave with his tail tucked between his legs. He tuned out the couple as he worked on hooking up the car and lifting it onto the truck bed.

y/n linked her arms behind her fiancé’s neck and grinned up at him. Rooster matched her smile. She was trouble, a force to be reckoned with–and he loved her for it.

“Thank you for saving me,” y/n murmured while her lips ghosted over Bradley’s. She pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, but before he could deepen it, she pulled away and examined him at arm’s length.

"My knight in shining… tacky tourist shirt,” y/n grinned deviously, amused by her own joke. Rooster rolled his eyes, pressing his tongue to his cheek before he retaliated by tickling her side–the exact same spot he’s been targeting since their very first beach date. y/n laughed before pulling him back toward her by his flowered collar for the deep kiss Bradley longed for.

At some point, the tow truck driver had finished up and y/n’s car was secured on the bed. He cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably as the couple shamelessly pulled away from their PDA stunt. y/n signed the necessary paperwork before thanking the man–she might be petty and a smart-ass, but she wasn’t an asshole.

Bradley and y/n walked hand-in-hand back towards the Bronco, where he opened the passenger door for her and offered his hand to support her as she stepped up into the lifted vehicle. Once Bradley was sitting in the driver’s seat, he wordlessly handed y/n his phone so she could play music. Somehow, the nurse had talked him into setting up bluetooth of all things in his vintage Bronco. He was well aware that she had him whipped, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

With one hand on the steering wheel and one hand resting on y/n’s thigh, Bradley pulled back onto the road and drove toward their shared house, the Hard Deck long forgotten. The windows were rolled down and soft tunes filled the night air.

“Hey Roos?” y/n spoke, intertwining her fingers with his.

“Yeah, baby?” Rooster hummed, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look at his fiancée.

“What’s a drive belt?”

a/n: fun fact: i learned how to check a car’s oil level when my friends and i were in bum fuck nowhere on a camping trip. pretty sure my dad was v stressed out when i called him and asked me to walk me through it but it definitely fed my ego.

[moonlight--cafe]

teaser: ladybird (m) 

~the one where a wish on a ladybug and a dream changes the life of a boy with an affinity for band-aids and strawberry lollipops~

pairings~ badboy!yeonjun x childhood friend! reader

genre~ (f) (s) (au) (a) 

featuring~ soft dom! yeonjun, jun is far too whipped for y/n, wet dreams, lollipops and band-aids, like one flashback to when they were kids, unprotected sex, our resident badboy is a diva, birthday sex, jun may cry a little during sex but that only happens once, 3 smut scenes (sorry), creampie, handholding, oral (giving & receiving), marking, and some other things i’ll probably add as i continue writing it. also this is very angsty and emotional since it is literally based on txt’s discography.

(This teaser is only slightly suggestive at best since I wanna save the good stuff for when this fic is done!)

playlist~ xx

Sure, his own breakup had affected him, for the first time in his life he actually thought it would work out.... but it didn’t. Normally he would be out looking for a one-night stand within a day, that didn’t happen. He was inconsolable for weeks. While Beomgyu and the other boys refused to go near him, you were sneaking out of your window and spending the night at his house. That was when things had changed for him.

You had both passed out on his bed after some intense mutual venting, he was certain that he had only ever viewed you in a platonic light. However, his dream said otherwise. “Jun, wake up, you’re having a nightmare”. Your warm voice coaxed his eyes to flutter open, he squinted in confusion, immediately realising what had happened. Shame engulfed him when he noticed the damp patch in his boxer briefs, time seemed to freeze “Sorry”. To this day he still didn’t know whether he was apologising for startling you or on behalf of his lewd dream, all he could do was swallow the lump that formed in his throat. He prayed to God that this was a once off, it wasn’t.

It was always the same dream, the one where he would wrap an arm around you while he gently guides you to lie down on your plush pink bedsheets. Hovering above you he would lean in and kiss you like his life depended on it. His fingers would trace your leg while he broke the connection. The moan you let out was music to his ears and your fingertips felt like silk when you reached for his arm. His needy baby was always so good to him, so he thought he would return the favour. “Ssh, I’ll make you feel good” you respond with three words, “I trust you”.

“I trust you.” Yeonjun’s eyes widen “H-huh?” His startled expression was met with your light smile “I was just saying, I trust you to not get us arrested. I know you’ll protect me; you’d be the worst friend ever if you didn’t.” “Of course I will baby, when have I ever let you down?” the sly wink he gave you was pure ecstasy.

Hi sweetpeas so here it is! The first teaser for my upcoming Yeonjun fic! I should be posting the other fic teaser soonish, I gotta get more stuff together with the playlist and do a tad more writing but I hope you liked this so far! This truly is my baby. Also this is so short coz I want this to really surprise y’all and there’s a lot I wanna keep secret also I am so damn nervous to post this ahhh

[moriihana]

we can't fix each other but we sure as hell can enable each other instead || four: talking it out

pairing: dabi x disabled!gn!reader

overview: you meet dabi pre-canon because your cat, nugget, literally won’t leave the guy alone. friendship, fluff and (eventual) angst ensue.

chapter summary: you and dabi are emotionally constipated but you both manage to shit out your emotions enough to talk about your feelings. yay! then he carries you back home.

content: fluff :)

word count: 1018 words

a/n: honestly the second half of this was kinda bullshitted bc i didnt know how to finish it up LMAO

*previously known as “we can’t fix each other (but we can heal our wounds together)”; i changed the title bc these assholes aint healin shit they’re just being overall menaces

AO3 link

← previous ; next →

You stepped outside, wincing as your knee buckled a little bit. You focused your weight on your cane as you made your way to Dabi, leaning against the wall next to him and propping your cane next to them.

“Hey, pretty boy. You alright?” You closed your eyes, frowning. “You left in a bit of a hurry there.”

“Yeah, sorry.” You raised an eyebrow at his apology, opening your eyes. Dabi rarely apologised.

“Don’t worry about it.” You smiled at him in an attempt to settle his nerves. You didn’t like his pinched eyebrows and downturned mouth—though you never liked when Dabi was upset in the first place. “You wanna… talk about it?” You offered awkwardly. Touchy-feely stuff wasn’t either of your fortes.

Dabi laughed coldly. “You know that’s not how I work, doll.” He then shook his head with a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. “Shit. That’s not what I meant to say.”

You snorted. “Take your time, pretty boy. Neither of us are very good at the whole feelings thing.”

“I’ll fuckin’ say,” Dabi said, slightly amused. He sighed, knocking his head back against the wall. You could tell he was reluctant to talk, so you took the initiative.

“Is it about what the kid said?” You prompted. Based on the way Dabi stiffened, you assumed you were right. “Listen, you know I hate beating around the bush, so I’m gonna just say it.” You turned your gaze away from him, choosing to watch the sunset instead. “I do like you. A lot, actually—hell, maybe Toga was right and it is love.” You laughed, a little bitter, a little sad. “I’m okay with just being fri—” “If you finish that sentence, I’ll hit you with your cane,” Dabi snapped, though his voice lacked any real heat. “Y’know, as smart as you are, you are painfully oblivious.” He shifted and flicked your forehead. “I like you too, dumbass.”

“Nevermind, I take it all back. I hate you. I hope a bird shits on your head,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Asshole.”

“Sorry, doll. Doesn’t work like that.” Dabi grinned wickedly. “You should know by now that you’re stuck with me. I’m very possessive with the things I like, and I really like you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you freak. Luckily for you, I don’t mind that you’re stupidly possessive. Fuckin’ weirdo,” you said teasingly. “So… what now? We’re a couple or whatever?”

“Guess so. I’m not super well-versed in the whole relationship thing.” He shrugged. 

“Neither am I,” you laughed quietly. “...we should probably go back inside and make sure Nugget is still on the chair. And that the kid hasn’t mauled Boo,” you thought about that for a moment, then added, “or vice-versa.”

“Good idea, doll.” Dabi straightened, then made a face. “I saw your knee was bugging you. D’you want help getting inside?”

“Gross, why are you being sweet. Disgusting. Get that shit outta here.” You stuck your tongue out. “Nah though, I’ll be fine.” 

He rolled his eyes at your antics, pushing the door open and heading inside. You followed behind, closing the door behind you. Boo had her head in Toga’s lap, allowing the girl to continue petting her. Nugget had surprisingly remained in the chair Dabi previously occupied, his tail flicking unhappily. 

Toga looked up and smiled that same, slightly unnerving smile. “I told you I was right! Do you think I’ll fall in love like you someday?” Her voice took on a dreamy tone. 

“Quiet, you little psycho,” Dabi said sharply, glaring at her. You smacked him on the shoulder.

“Play nice, pretty boy,” you hissed. “She’s just a kid.”

“A crazy one,” he shot back. “When d’you think Giran will be back? I’ve got shit I wanna ask for before we go.”

“Patience is a virtue, Dabi.” 

“Rich coming from you, mouse. You’re one of the most impatient people I know,” Dabi drawled, grinning. Not even five minutes later, Giran walked through the door with a notepad in hand.

“Alright! Request away.” He waved the notepad around.

Dabi muttered out a finally and rattled off a list of things he wanted, which was mostly clothing and his villain outfit. You requested the same stuff, as well as stuff for Boo and Nugget—a litterbox and litter, chew toys, food and the like. 

Toga’s list was knives and syringes. Nobody was surprised.

After Giran jotted down their stuff, you and Dabi decided to head back to the apartment complex to grab whatever you both had left behind. Toga surprised you with a tight hug before you left, saying she was super excited to see both of you again.

You limped alongside Dabi, putting most of your weight onto your cane. You squinted in the darkness. “I hate walking in the dark. Everything looks different. ‘s hard to tell where we’re even going.”

“Get a better sense of direction,” Dabi teased with a grin. You opened your mouth to respond, but you were cut off by Boo tugging hard on the leash upon seeing a raccoon. You yelped and stumbled forward—Dabi had to grab you by the arm to keep you from falling over. “Careful, doll.”

“Okay, that was not my fault. Blame Boo for that,” you grumbled. “Ah, my fuckin’ knee hurts worse now.” The last part was mumbled under your breath, not wanting Dabi to hear you say it. Unfortunately, he stopped walking.

“Alright, give me the leash and hop on my back. I’m carrying you back.” His tone left no room for argument, though you gave it a shot anyways.

“I can walk back fi—”

“Nope. Either you get on my back or I carry you. We both know what the better option is.” 

You mumbled childishly under your breath, handing off Boo’s leash to Dabi and climbing onto his back. He tucked your cane under his arm and adjusted his hold on Nugget so he could keep you stable while keeping Nugget in place. “Not a word, pretty boy. Not a damn word.”

“My lips are sealed.” 

You both knew that he’d bring it up again eventually. Asshole.

[outivv]

— Streamer au! —

Synopsis: characters as streamers!

Warnings: cursing, and not proofread

Game/ fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: kaeya, zhongli, and shenhe

Pronouns for reader: gender neutral/ not mentioned

A/n: hello! I really liked writing the first part of this, so I thought… why not do a part two! I hope you enjoy, and have a lovely rest of your day/ evening!

— kaeya —

Kaeyas streams are all over the place. You have the chat going fucking wild, kaeya’s losing his shit as he’s most likely playing a horror game (and losing) and then you have his roommate in the room next to him losing their shit because kaeya keeps screaming

His chat is all over the place by the way. It’s full of people simping over him, and also people who are just there to chill… in a chaotic way.

Definitely plays a wide variety of games, but I wouldn’t put it against him to play first person shooter games.

Mostly has just chatting streams, or streams that are meant to be a video on YouTube (he definitely posts his stream highlights, and sometimes vods on his YouTube channel). Like a try to not laugh challenge, or something like that.

His name is either Pavo Ocellus or just ocellus. (Based off his constellation :D)

His setup is very blue and purple based. He definitely has led lights too, and probably a nice ass computer (the guy spared no expense.) also has a ton of… stuff in his room. Like just a ton of merch from his favorite games, and shows, as well. (Also probably has those vines that people put on their wall. Ngl he’d do that)

I think if he had a partner they would be a regular part of the stream JEVSJS. Like the chat would see them every stream and go nuts, Luke “OMG [NAME]” and just spamming emotes

Definitely has drunk streams. Like all the time.

Has a higher average viewer count, but it honestly probably shifts a lot.

— zhongli —

Absolutely… <3

His streams are the best, like absolutely just… so sweet. He’s so sweet to his chat, even the people who go overboard with the things they say (unless it’s discriminatory because zhongli would not tolerate that. Throw a rock at his camera.) like he’s just so kind <3

His chat is pretty cool, but the moment zhongli leans towards his mic to say thank you to a dono (as a joke you know like “pscabhahs thank you dono I appreciate it oHMYGOD”) they just go wild

Probably has sub goals, and they’re mostly decided by chat. For example, zhongli hastes horror games, specifically five nights at Freddy’s (“I hate that stupid bear.” - zhongli probably) and so a sub goal that chat decided was that he’d play security breach. He actually enjoyed it but the moment Monty showed up he was panicking. “WHYS THE GATOR CHASING ME??”

I pray gor whoever his partner is cause he will not shut up about them during his streams. Like the chat may not have been introduced to you exactly, but they know you, just from how much zhongli talks about you.

His setup is so bland. Like he has a nice pc, and spent a fair amount of money on it, as well as a mic, and camera… but his room is literally, a window, bed, and a bookcase full of books, and his chat makes fun of him sometimes. “Ok fine chat I’ll get like a poster or something.”

His username is morax,

— shenhe —

Either streams calming games with heavy metal playing, or intense games with the sound low and with lofi playing. No in between

Her chat is so interesting, cause it’s mostly full of like chill people, but they can get really toxic if someone insults shenhe.

She’s fairly quiet with her streams, like she talks but in a quieter tone. Definitely nice to fall asleep to, if it wasn’t for the heavy metal playing as she’s just chilling im stardew valley.

Stream setup is probably very minimalist, very clean too. Its actually pretty peaceful, she doesn’t have much im the background, so the focus is only on her and the game.

If she had a partner she wouldn’t necessarily introduce them to the chat, they’d just show up in her room one stream to bring her maybe a snack, or tell shenhe something, and the chat would be like “WHO IS THAT??” “IS THAT YOUR PARTNER???”

Probably called something very simple, like four letters kinda simple, but hard to pronounce. I GENUINELY DONT KNOW WHAT THOUGH SHES KINDA TRICKY :’)

only streams at the crack of dawn. Good lord, she streams at like 5 am her time its like… damn. GIRL SLEEP IN ONCE AND A WHILE?!

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hi, I absolutely adore your writing and it’s quite inspiring and making my imagination go WEEWOO!

Could I request something for YJ With Dick? So like a headcanon or one shot (which ever you prefer queen) where the reader is quite reserved, snarky and can get angry real fast. They have feelings for Rob and they are especially snarky to him to hide their feelings, but they eventually start to open up more and during the events of episode 24 (you know, the one at haly’s circus), they open up to him and they confess? And he does the same?

Flower Language

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Blood and injuries and plant death.

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/N: This is kind of my take on the Hanahaki disease, kind of. This was so much fun to write honestly, I didn't realize I like all this floral stuff so much. It also reminded me of another 'True Love's Kiss' trope I wrote for Dick Grayson as well. Also I changed the episode this was based on because I’ve already done something based on the episode with Haly’s circus @hanbedumbaf I really really really hope you enjoy it! Sorry it was so late, I finished it a month back but it was in my queue.

Adrenaline was a common feeling to you. A little too familiar. The life of a superhero puts you in peril more times than you would like but it was the only life you had known. You knew the familiar feeling of sweat forming on your skin and your heart pounding so loudly that you could hear it in every step you took.

However, when you heard the pounding, it was because there was a supervillain, usually hairy, chasing after you and determined to get your head on a stake.

Although, feeling your heart jump to your throat was becoming more familiar whenever you were around a certain someone. Robin annoyed you to no end, whenever he was around you couldn't help your face from growing warm and your lips from tingling to form a permanent smile on your face.

Having a crush was irritating, you couldn't think or even function without thinking of him. It was frankly humiliating, you were always so gung-ho about being bold and to the point and yet whenever you were around Boy Wonder, you couldn't help but bend your personality to something you felt like would appeal to him more.

Sometimes, you couldn't even stand yourself.

And so, as a pathetic act of rebellion, and maybe as a clear-cut sign that you had no idea how to handle emotions or anything similar to it, every time your heart got just a little soft, your tongue got a whole lot sharper. Probably not the best way to win a boy’s heart. But you weren't here for a romance story.

It was also a true sign that you had no idea how to flirt, thinking that borderline insulting witty banter was the way to go. Or perhaps it was a way of controlling your emotions, since being bitter and snarky was the thing that came easiest to you.

You seriously needed better tactics.

It was also your oblivious mistake thinking that Robin only saw what you wanted him to see. He was raised to be a detective, of course he was more observant than that. Papa (or let's be real, Alfred) didn't raise no fool.

You made the mistake of thinking Robin saw you as strong and independent and bold, just as the rest of them did. But he saw much more than that.

Robin was distressed by the number of crying faces around him, the kids were inconsolable which was understandable because of just how many things went wrong in the past couple of hours. To be quite frank, Robin was a couple seconds away from having a fit himself.

"Shh, little one," He heard distantly and his neck practically snapped. You were crouching in front of the few who were crying, with a small nurturing smile. It was the first time he had seen you out of uniform, usually referring to you as Antheia, named after the goddess of flowers, but this wasn't she.

"I know you're scared, my flowers, but I promise, we will find your parents." You soothed, gently wiping away their tears. They still looked up at you apprehensively and with uncertainty.

"I'll show you a magic trick." You began, grinning as the kids began to smile back at you. You pulled a seed out of your pocket and held it between closed hands, using a bit of your powers and felt it grow in your palms. When you revealed what you were holding, they collectively gasped.

A bud of a flower now rested in your hand. You smiled at their innocent eyes and held it to them, "Now I'm going to need your help for the next part. Everyone has to blow on the flower."

They nodded eagerly, crawling around you and on the count of three, everyone followed your instructions. And low and behold, the bud bloomed into a beautiful blossom right between your fingers.

One of the girls clamoured into your lap to hold the flower herself and you chuckled, wrapping your arms tightly around her, "You know what this flower means?"

They shook their heads, "It means faith, and hope. If you have faith and hope in us, then you'll get something beautiful in return."

For once, they look contemplatively and you chuckled, feeling pride at the fact that you managed to sow some wisdom in their minds. The girl that had been sitting in your lap turned in your grasp, with the flower in her hand and then reached up to tuck it behind your ear.

"For me?" She nodded happily and you smiled widely, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, petal."

Satisfied that you were able to calm them down, you gently placed the girl back on the floor before moving away from the group. Just as you were about to join the others, you ran into Robin. You didn't know he had just seen the whole thing.

Pulling the flower from behind your ear, you handed it to him, "You know in some cultures, this flower means to pick up the slack and stop looking like a confused chicken." You snapped.

Business as usual.

Robin looked back to the flower you had slipped into his hands, you had said it meant faith and hope, and you had given it to him. He looked back up to see you shuffling away from him quickly, a blush on your face. He smiled.

You were more nurturing and kinder than you let on, it was like it was programmed into your personality and yet you never showed it when you knew they were watching. That wasn't the only part of yourself that you were hesitant to show them.

And the more Robin observed you, the more he realized that you used flower language to depict a lot of your emotions. It was a silent way of letting them out, without having to tell other people what's really in your heart.

You thought you were sly about it, but nothing went under Robin's radar.

Everyone was watching a movie on the flat screen in the rec room. You hadn't realized you were so tired, the movie was boring, something that M'Gann had picked and you hadn't slept the night before, busy patrolling your city.

Your eyelids began to droop before you could even understand what was going on, your head lolling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Robin hadn't realized that he was napping through the movie until he felt a weight on his shoulder. He nearly jumped awake and glanced to his side to see you sound asleep, breathing gently. He nearly chuckled, was this what you looked like when you weren't scowling at everybody?

His heart skipped a beat, god, were you beautiful. The smell of flowers vaguely hit his nose and he noticed the red gardenia plant growing steadily in the corner of the room.

'Red Gardenias means a secret love,' Robin recalled from a book he had read, 'It's a secret way for someone to say I love you.'

He glanced back at you still sleeping peacefully, face completely relaxed and briefly wondered if your powers were taking the lead on your emotions and making gardenias grow around the cave. Or were you dreaming about something?

Something in his heart grew, here you were sleeping against his shoulder, making symbols of a secret love grow around the room. This had to be a sign of something, right?

Before he could contemplate it any further, you squirmed and then began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before they landed on the boy beside you and widened in size, skin darkening with a blush.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?" You snapped and turned on your heel to stomp out of the room without even waiting for a response from him. The others who noticed the way he was just staring at the place you were in surprise. You always do such a 180 when you're around him and conscious.

"Wow, sunshine's crabby in the morning." Wally commented from beside him. When he didn't get any response, he looked over to see Robin with a silly smile on his face.

Dick couldn't stop himself from grinning. The gardenias were still blooming.

***

"Antheia, do you think you will be able to stop the plants from growing any further?" Batman turned to face you, only to find you staring at him with a hazy, blank expression.

"Antheia?" Robin called but you didn't even flinch, your eyes were locked onto the holo-computer, seeing the thick vines that were twisting and turning. Their call was overwhelming, you could feel them grow even beneath your feet. It was like a siren was blearing through your head.

You couldn't tell what they were trying to say, it was like they were muffled. It was confused and lost, following Ivy and it was happy listening to her. And yet, it was feeling pain, the Justice League was busy pruning her as we speak. It was scared, crying out for someone to help them and you felt obligated to help. Your mind was getting heavy, throbbing with an oncoming migraine.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes snapped open and focused onto the boy in front of you. Everyone was staring at you in concern and you blinked, suddenly not able to remember what the hell was going on. You were just trying to focus on something other than the screams and cries of the plant.

"......What?" You asked a little dumbly, noticing the concern on Robin's face. The plants were still crying. You couldn't get the painful sound of their screams out of your mind. You felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

"Batman asked if you would be able to stop the plants?"

"Oh, um, no." You answered in a distracted way that made his face pinch with worry. His hands were still grasping your shoulders tightly, keeping his face in close proximity to yours. You didn't even realize, too out of it to even notice.

Robin on the other hand felt his cheeks get uncomfortably hot the more you stared at him with those innocent, beautiful eyes of yours. If Batman hadn't been breathing down his neck, he was sure he would've kissed you in the moment.

Unfortunately for him, his dad always knew how to ruin the moment. And he would continue to for the rest of his life. Until death do them part. Even after the two of you grow up and live together, the Batman would find some way to interrupt your fun.

"Robin?"

"Huh?"

"The mission."

Oh. Right.

***

"Robin!" You screamed when one of Ivy's plants wrapped around his neck and slammed him against the trees. They didn't let up curling tighter around his throat. Fear struck you as he began choking from breath and you knew you had to do something.

Suddenly murderous intent took over you and you glared at Ivy who returned it with a smug smirk of her own. Oh, how you'd rip that smirk off her face.

"Okay Ivy, you wanna play? Let's play." You ground out, slamming your hands against the vine around Robin's neck and it began disintegrating beneath your fingers. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath and you tuned out the sound of the plant crying as it died beside him.

Ivy heard it just as loudly as you had, she screamed and more plants lunged towards the both of you.

"Go help the others! I'm about to snap this twig." You spat at Robin, using your powers to kill the roots as it reached you. It was working slowly, your powers weak to the pain of the plants around you. Even as every cell of your body told you not to, you clenched your fingers into fists and watched as the creeper feel to the marsh, dead.

You engaged in battle with Ivy. Plants were screaming for mercy all around you but you couldn't stop for even a second. Life around you was trembling but you had to keep fighting the villain in front of you because if you hesitated for even a second, many more would die.

Thorns scratched your skin, drawing blood and curled around Ivy, sinking barbs into her skin.

"Face it girlie! You're never going to overpower me!"

"Oh, I'm not trying to overpower you, just distract you long enough for Robin to get rid of the control system." You replied, just as smug as she had been at the start of the fight. Now you got to see her face melt into one of panic just as Robin jumped over her head and to your side with a grin identical to yours.

"Cover your ears!" He sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ducking, covering your body with his own. You were grateful for it; you weren't sure you could even keep your body upright at the moment.

Then you heard the explosion and your heart stopped. Every single fibre of your body burned red hot fire as you heard screams and cries around you. Bile was crawling up your throat and your breathing got thin. They were sobbing a heart-broken wail and your eyes misted at the mere sound.

Without realizing it, you were gripping onto Robin's hand, brows furrowed together. The sound of the explosion cleared, the Injustice League was captured and he pulled you up to stand with the others.

It was silent for a moment. You had won.

And then the consequences of your actions hit you.

Everyone's necks snapped towards you when you let out a heart-wrenching sob. Robin, who was standing right next to you caught you just in time before your body hit the ground. Pain exploded in your chest as you began wailing against him.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" He panicked but you didn't respond, crying into his chest as you gripped his cape in an iron fist. Everything hurt and all you could feel was sorrow and guilt.

The other heroes crowded around you but your eyes were screwed shut, tears making your eyes sting. Robin held onto you tightly, pulling your body against his as you continued to cry.

"What's happening?" Artemis murmured, looking around to see the environment change before her eyes. Everyone else followed her lead to see how leaves began rotting, then the trees. The smell was pungent. Thorns and weeds were crawling up the dying trees, pulling them into the swamp.

"(Y/N) please, what's wrong?" Robin whispered in your ear but you couldn't hear him. The sounds of plants screaming and wailing was echoing through your mind. How they begged you to save them. How they begged you to stop.

And then it got hard to breathe, your chest constricted and you were wheezing. Robin had to watch in horror when petals and blood poured from your mouth. You were choking, throwing up and sobbing in his arms, and he was unable to do anything to help you.

"Flash get her to the Batcave." Batman said gruffly, he was shocked and worried for you but didn't say anything, not wanting to scare his son more, "Sending you the coordinates now."

"Alfred prepare the med-bay."

Dick watched with a sinking heart as he handed you into Flash's arms. It took him a few seconds for his mind to stop whirring, he was still kneeling in the swampy marsh when the team huddled around him.

"It's gonna be okay." Wally murmured, wrapping an arm around his shaking body.

"We just have to hope for the best."

***

When the others had gotten back to the Cave, you had just been moved there, after being looked over by Alfred. He joined you in the med-bay, wanting to keep an eye on you. But as of yet, you still had to wake up.

Dick wasn't supposed to be listening to the adult’s conversation, but he couldn't help himself, he had to know if you were going to be okay.

"The situation is undeterminable, sir. But as of now, the flowers that are clogging her respiratory system keep growing. If we don't find a cure for this, it's inevitable that she will suffocate and pass."

His heart stopped. Die? You couldn't die, not when he still had so many things to tell you. For so long, he hadn't told you of his feelings, wanting to keep the relationship between the two of you professional. But now more than anything, he wished he had said something.

There were so many things he didn't get to do with you yet. You had yet to give him a bouquet on your first date. He wanted to lay in bed with you, smelling fresh flowers as you told him what different plants symbolized. He had yet to see moments where you can't control your powers and make plants grow around the cave.

He hadn't even given you a flower yet.

"Rob listen, I did some research on this 'disease'." Wally said, falling into step with him, "It's called the Hanahaki disease."

"That's fiction Wal—"

"But that's the best we've got right now." Came his curt reply and Dick's heart clenched.

"Hanahaki disease is a fictional sickness that only occurs when someone is suffering from unrequited love. The victim will cough up flower petals that symbolize their love. This disease is only cured when the victim's feelings are romantically returned." Wally read off his phone before turning to Dick with a smile.

He raised a brow, "What?"

"You have to kiss (Y/N)!"

"What!?"

"Yep! You have to return her unrequired love!"

"Wally that's ridiculous, kissing someone doesn't cute anything."

"Well, it's the only thing we have. And for (Y/N), we need to try anything." He said, pushing him towards the med-bay. His voice was tight and tense, like he was holding onto his as his last hope and Dick prayed that it would work when the door of your room came into his sight.

You were asleep and if he hadn't known any better, he would've thought you were healthy. Wally closed the door behind him, leaving Dick alone with you. The only sound in was the beeping from your heart monitor and your light wheezing. It was getting harder to breathe.

Dick inched his way closer to you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered gently in your sleep. Leaning over the bed you were lying in; he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving his head in line with yours.

"God, please let this work." He whispered and your bottom lip was caught between his. It was feather-light but yet, electricity was buzzing through his veins and fireworks went off in his mind.

For a minute, nothing happened and his heart clenched in his chest before he kissed you a little harder. This had to work because they didn't have any other lead. Dick felt you exhale feebly against him and he almost gave up hope.

But then you took a deep breath, stealing the breath from his lungs and he pulled away quickly to see your eyelids fluttering open. The colour was returning to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling up at him. You smiled gently and he blinked away tears of relief. Thank goodness.

'His eyes are blue' You thought, staring deeply into them. They were beautiful, alluring. You didn't know why but just looking into his eyes was addicting. Was this what it felt like to be so deep in love? That even his eyes were enough to captivate you?

"I'm so glad you're awake." He muttered, cupping your cheeks firmly and planting another kiss on your lips. You giggled lightly, heart overjoyed to find the boy you had been in love with for so long had returned your feelings and you responded to the kiss eagerly, placing your palms over his hands and leaning into him.

With your regaining strength, you felt a flower materialize in your hands. The stem between your fingers brought you comfort just as the scent of the flower brought you back life.

When Dick pulled away, you delicately slipped it into his hands and he turned his attention to it, blue eyes softening when he recognized this particular flower in his hands.

"It's an Aster." You whispered quietly, lips brushing against his and he chuckled. It was the only flower you thought of when he came to your mind, "Get it?"

Dick turned his eyes away from the blossom and looked at you again. Your heart jumped, noticing just how much love he held in them. Eyes you could swim in, overflowing with love for you. Suddenly you were overwhelmed, feeling adoration and attraction. You needed to be closer to him, even though he was pressed against you.

Your fingers curled into his collar and pulled him closer to you, slanting your lips over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Dick gasped against your lips, startled for no longer than a second before sinking against you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved gently against his, the blushing flower trapped between both your bodies. The smell of fresh flowers clouded Dick's mind with everything that was you. Your hair, your smile, your lips. If you kept kissing him like that, he was certain he'd forget his own name.

And then you pulled away and Dick noted that you were as beautiful as a fresh flower. Your skin was glowing with life and your tired eyes were twinkling. You smiled sleepily at him, eyes closing shut and he lowered you back to the bed. Immediately, you slipped back into slumber, exhausted from the day's events.

He watched for a couple seconds, making sure you were able to breathe without any problems before realizing he should tell the others that you were okay.

He slipped out of the room quietly, stealing a final glance of you sleeping peacefully in the bed and a huge smile grew on his face, "She's awake."

It was only then he noticed just how colourful the room had gotten in the few minutes he was with you.

The walls were covered with vines and roses of different colours, camelias and carnations of different shades. It littered the room, not leaving a single inch of the wall untouched and scattered petals all over the floor like confetti.

Different creepers hung from the ceiling, dusting all the superheroes with sparkling pollen and colourful petals. Not to mention there were stems crawling up the Justice League members, flowers hugging their ankles lovingly.

Batman looked a lot less intimidating with petals in his cape and a rose stuck behind his ear. Robin blushed at the sight of everyone giving him knowing smiles.

"We noticed."

Aster: This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san