#I’m probably reading too far into a kids movie

[eggs-can-draw]

Do you ever think about Mavis from Hotel Trans and that fuckass Ed Sheeran guy she ends up with and get really sad.

Like. She’s 118, and he’s 21. She will likely go on to outlive him by hundreds of years, their son too, but they hold onto each other like they’ll never know a time without the other.

This is her first relationship, but it may not be her last. This likely isn’t his first relationship, but he wants it to be his last. It likely will.

They hold onto each other like they will be together forever.

There’s something kind of magical to that

[ashipiko]

—NIKO CIMARRON

All information on Niko Cimarron ATM! Will most likely be updated ☆

—MORE UNDER CUT

BASIC INFORMATION:

Class: 2-A

Birthday: October 24

Height: 176cm

Dominant Hand: Right

From: Land of Pyroxene / Shaftlands

Club: Film Studies (visits on occasion, inactive member)

Favorite Subject: Magic Analysis

Best Subject: Animal Languages

Likes: Making a profit

Dislikes: Getting outsmarted

Favorite Food: Berries / Berry flavored things

Least Favorite Food: Anything too hot

Specialty: Balancing on the line of lie and truth

GALLERY:

VOICE CLAIM:

YUU’S INTERVIEW:

— Scarabia Dorms - Niko’s Room —

for easier reading, all yuu dialogue will be in italics and all niko dialogue will be in a normal black font instead of green.

There you are. Surprised you came to visit me, Carrots.

> You know what I’m here for, Niko.

> Why are you surprised?

No need to act like that. Interview, right? Or should I say an interrogation? If you wanted to hang out with me, you didn’t need to hide around the bush, you know…

It’s cute seeing you all dodgy, but still. ♡

> I think it matches your vibe.

> You’re one to talk.

Yeah, yeah. How many questions do we have planned for today? Don’t take too long, now. I’ve gotta start pumping out those treats for my profit.

…Oh. No need to worry about a pen and paper, I’ve got one for you.

> I didn’t expect for you to be so prepared.

> (…They’re cuter than expected.)

Something something about matching the vibes… They’re modeled after an old movie about cops and so, interrogating. Figured you’d like them. A carrot for Carrots. It’s cute.

It’s about time to start though, huh?

> Yeah.

> No more wasting time.

INTERVIEW: START!

1. Can we get some basic info about you from… you?

A second year Scarabia student who’s a fox beastman. I guess I’m what you’d call a charmer, thief of the heart, man of your dreams… I’ve heard it all. But the real name’s Niko. Niko Cimarron. My surname means “Wild”, so you could call me Mr. Wild if you like that too. Heh, actually, it’s a business thing, so I guess you’d only call me that if you bought my products… Say, Carrots, you feeling like you need a snack? I have some lefties if you’d like.

> No thanks.

> Why not?

They’re tasty, I prommie~.

2. Speaking of which, what are your “pawpsicles” made from? How do you make them?

Those little things? Why, I’ll let you know I put my blood, sweat, and tears in those treats. Makes me happy to see other people happy, like the faces on a thaumark. To make ‘em, it’s just some tasty berries from the school grounds that get mushed up to get juice, where they go into a mold and freeze up. It’s hard work! I’ve gotta walk so many steps around the school and all across campus… You’re lucky you never saw me in my first year. Took me a while to get used to the schedule… Though, I’m a well-organized man now, I’ll have you know. It’s good for the public image.

3. You’re from the Shaftlands, aren’t you? Do you have any connections to Vil, Cater, or Jack?

Connections? I have them with everyone, really… though I don’t think those three are really aware I came from the same place as them. To be fair, the Shaftlands is a pretty big area. People even go as far to call it a utopia.

If anything, I’ve talked to Diamond more at NRC than anywhere in the Shaftlands. Is that because I never even saw him once? Maybe. So I can’t say about back then, but I can enjoy a good conversation with him now. He’s a good customer and a good influencer. Back then, he got me a good chunk of costumers off of a Magicam post, so I’ve got to give it to him. Who knew people could just follow trendy things at the drop of a hat? Crazy, right?

Vil is a major celebrity, and Jack, I didn’t even know existed ‘till this year. I’ve got nothing to say about Mr. Hardhead, but I’ve had my fair share of talks with Vil. When we were kids, I got a wave from him once… It was great bragging rights. Heh, he kinda freaks me out now though. The reason why I don’t actually participate in club activities. He’s probably too high of a standard for a lowlife like me, so it’s not something that bothers me anyway.

4. You don’t seem to have a Unique Magic. Any reason why?

Ah. Magic? A little bit of a sour topic for me, Carrots, ow… I’m just a late bloomer, is all. I’ve got magic in me, but I never played around with it when I was younger, so I’m way more rusty than all of the other guys here. It doesn’t mean I don’t know the brain stuff, though. Just inexperienced.

If I’m being dead honest, it’s kind of a miracle how I got into NRC. I guess they wanted the fox vote, huh? Heh.

5. Not sure if I’ve seen you around a lot with one particular person. Is there a secret someone?

Secret someone? Getting jealous, are you? Haha, I would’ve never taken you to be the type!

> Not the focus of the question.

> That’s not…!

It’s your fault for wording it like that. You’ve got to watch your words, Carrots. Well, the business life is a cold one, isn’t it? Being around a bunch of highschool guys isn’t really the “ideal” grounds for making business partners either, so it is what it is. At least this way, I get all the profits, so I don’t mind. If you want, I can save a spot for you by my side. ♡

> Again, no thanks.

> Maybe after I get a break from all the things this school brings.

Keep me in mind~.

6. Our last question. You say a lot of random stuff. People get annoyed with it pretty often. How do you feel about that?

…? Oh, you picked up on it, huh? Heh, I mean… I guess I could come clean. I think it’s interesting you haven’t walked away from me yet, y’know. Usually people aren’t into this stuff.

> You are annoying, but…

> (Would it be mean to say something?)

I appreciate you, Carrots. A little too much than I’d like.

Usually people don’t really like the stereotypical foxiness I bring to the table. They run away because I’m either something they don’t wanna get mixed up with, or just something they don’t like. I think you’re a weirdo who’s looking for entertainment when you come into my room and talk to me like this.

…But I guess that just means that you like the way I talk to you, right? You can’t get enough? Is that what’s happening here? ♡

> For a second, I thought you were going to need some comfort, but I guess not.

> Really, it’s fine, Niko…

Don’t pretend like your cheeks aren’t a little red. I like the reactions I get out of you. ♡

Is that all you wanted? Yeah? Alright, we’re done here, then. Hand me the pen, would ya?

> It was nice being able to talk to you like this.

> (That was a quick turnaround.)

…Yeah. Hurry on up, shouldn’t you be studying up on actual things worth studying? Live up to that Smarty McSmart Pants title. Bye-bye now~.

INTERVIEW: END!

> (I feel like Niko’s more than meets the eye.)

> (I feel like Niko’s… hiding something.)

.

.

.

TRIVIA:

Niko is twisted off of Nick Wilde from Zootopia!

Niko is actually magicless. Not entirely, as he does have some running in his blood, so he didn’t lie, but it’s not enough where he can successfully conjure spells. Because of this, at NRC, he often has to get by with con-artist type excuses and acts. It works most of the time, as he has Crowley’s support. For now, he’s getting by with the excuse of being a late bloomer, but I’m sure suspicions are beginning to rise… Perhaps, if it were to be found out that he’s unable to conjure spells, he would be kicked out of NRC.

He made it to NRC after being dared to attempt to con his way in by his magicless best friend. His name is not noted, but he’s a very angry and violent French fennec fox. Niko is often bullied by him.

He can be considered a fan of Vil.

Niko enjoys the pop genre a lot, but is embarrassed to admit it.

Despite being a playboy, Niko is easily flustered at the thought of someone seriously making moves on him.

Niko can also count as a bit of a heartbreaker. For the romantics around the school, everyone knows Niko as that kid who’ll charm you for a week and leave you heartbroken when he inevitability rejects you. It’s not anything against anybody, really, but more so the fact that Niko can’t ever imagine dating someone before he tells them his secret. It feels unfair to him. But people take offense to it nonetheless, the heartbroken people usually cutting Niko off as soon as they figure out that there won’t be anything working between them.

Because of the way some people leave him as soon as they sense no romance, Niko finds the concept of love to be sort of flaky. It takes a while for him to develop a crush, despite his flighty, flirty attitude.

Due to being a class 2-A student, Niko often ends up selling his treats most often there. Kalim and Silver are his number one customers, as Kalim buys bundles of them to give to Scarabia members, and Silver buys them for Lilia to enjoy.

Niko attends the Playful Land event and ends up staying in contact with Fellow Honest afterwards. This relationship ends up contributing a lot to Niko’s development.

Even though he doesn’t want to, he feels obligated to play into the deceitful foxiness of himself, because that’s what people naturally expect of him. It stops them from getting curious about him, as it seems like they’ve already got him figured out.

He says things that are considered shallow, like flirting or bargaining because he wants to get a reaction out of people. Niko does small things like this for small reactions — enough of these small reactions will fulfill the same satisfaction of seeing someone he loves flustered or happy, he thinks. In truth, he knows it won’t amount to much. Niko tries to satisfy himself enough so that he won’t need the real thing.

Niko feels very guilty for deceiving everyone at NRC, especially the prefect. Even still, he doesn’t have the heart to tell them that he truly doesn’t belong here, taking up a spot possibly for somebody who deserves it much more.

Niko’s way of thinking suggests that if he acts distasteful enough, it will cause people to stray far away from him. He believes that he really is just a lowlife fox, but the truth of his actions is something he think people would hate him for most; living in a lie. Because of this, he acts like a playboy and an annoyance in attempts to get people to stay away, preventing them from finding out the even uglier truth of him.

Additionally, he’s afraid to have the truth leak out because he doesn’t want to leave NRC. Though he doesn’t have much, he doesn’t want to lose the little bit he does have, and the little bits he keeps on gaining.

Even still, Niko craves for someone who will take time to understand him. Which is why he’s so attached to the prefect.

More to be added!

^ the pawpsicle icons in this relationship chart represent whether if the character is an avid pawpsicle enjoyer (has the icon), has experienced it once but never had it again (once!), and if they have never had it.

[multifandomfanficss]

Never Listen To Venkman

Egon Spengler x Reader

(With platonic!Peter Venkman)

Prompt: When you and Peter are left alone to experiment with a suspicious, blue, viscous slime, things go south and Egon comes home to you having a paranormal induced panic attack.

Warnings: panic attacks, autistic meltdowns, sensory issues, detailed descriptions of sensory issues, feeling uncomfortable in one’s own skin.

A/N: Back in my Ghostbusters era. It is contractually obligated that I must re-obsess every time a new movie comes out. I’ve loved Egon since I was a little kid. I can’t believe I’ve never written for him. The italics are flashbacks. This is crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

The reader is intended to be autistic, but can be read any way you’d like. Anyone is allowed to relate and see themselves in the reader wether they’re autistic or not!

You were sitting at your desk with in your small shared lab with Egon in the firehouse when you heard footsteps. You thought you had been home alone until Peter walked in.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going on a double date with Winston while Ray and Egon were at the movie.” You questioned him, putting down your pen. You had been taking notes on a new kind of slime the boys had found. It was different from the other slime they’d found last month when Vigo was trying to take over. While Vigo’s slime was pink in color, this slime was blue and had a more viscous consistency.

“Oscar had a fever, so Dana and I decided to cancel. She thinks he’s getting his first tooth.” Peter smiles. Despite the jokes he’s made and the amount of times he’s said he was nowhere near ready to be a father, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t happy being back with Dana again and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love Oscar just as much as he loved her.

“Did Winston still go?” You ask.

“Oh, yeah. He’s probably back in her apartment with the bed rocking as we speak. No way he’s coming home tonight.” Peter laughed at his own joke as you cringe.

“You’re disgusting.” You roll your eyes.

“What are you up to tonight? Got a hot date with a slime? Not too different from your usual dating life.” He chuckles.

“You’re such a dick, Venkman. I figured while everybody was out tonight I’d try to find out SOMETHING about this new slime. Egon and I have been studying it for two days and we have literally nothing.” You gesture to the blue goo on your desk.

“Do you need help?” He asks.

“Are you offering to help me on your night off?” You ask, shocked.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” Peter shrugs.

“Are you gonna take it seriously?” You hesitate.

“I’m always serious!” Peter bluffs. Peter was never serious. Egon was always serious. His bluntness and black and white thinking had always been a comfort to you. He wasn’t some puzzle you had to figure out. He just was. Being with him wasn’t a guessing game the same way it was with Peter.

“Somehow that’s hard to believe, but I could really use your expertise in parapsychology, so I’ll say yes.” You sigh. You know this probably isn’t the best idea, but Peter knows more about this topic than you do. You’d be stupid to reject his help.

“If you’ll be the subject, I’ll run the experiment.” He says, taking out the helmet with wires.

“Okay.” You agree. Once the helmet is on you should be connected to a series of machines able to read the energy of your emotions, as well as the slime itself, giving you a more direct connection without touching. Peter starts asking you a series of questions, trying to draw different emotional responses.

“Think of a time when you were happy, really happy.” He prompts. Your mind, wandered around the room, trying to think of something, when your eyes landed on Egon’s book sitting on his desk.

It made you think of the first time you realized you had deep feelings for him. While you’d always thought he was attractive, you realized your feelings were deeper than you thought, far beyond a harmless little crush, one day when he let you borrow his book. As you read his notes in the margins you were able to analyze things like him, see the world through his eyes. You saw how his brain connected and processed things. You always liked the person he’d shown you, but writing in the margins is different. When you take notes in a book, you’re not putting on a mask for people to see. Notes in the margins are just for you. There’re your unfiltered thoughts. Seeing who Egon was when nobody was watching was different. He was funny, smart, deep, curious, not as confident as he pretended to be; he didn’t censor himself in his books. He wasn’t quiet in his books. Reading his margins felt intimate.

“You’re thinking about Spengler, aren’t you?” Venkman teases.

“Why would you say that?” You look at him, embarrassed.

“Because you’re in loooooove!” Peter mocks.

“Can we change the subject?” You practically beg.

“Think of a moment where you were uncomfortable.” Peter prompts.

“This conversation.” You fiddle with your fingers.

“No, really. I wanna see how it reacts to discomfort.”

“Fine.” You sigh. You think back to one of your many lab accidents. Working in a lab with sensory issues is never easy and that was something you and Egon both struggled with.

You think back to the day when you superglued your fingers shut by accident. You got them apart, but you couldn’t get the the residue off. You started to hyperventilate, on the verge of tears. You wanted to hit your hands on things, but you knew that wouldn’t help. You couldn’t peel off the glue without peeling off your skin.

“What’s wrong?” Egon looked at you puzzled, and a bit worried.

“Superglue! I- I- I can’t get it off!” You shake your hands, violently, your whole body is tensed up.

Egon quickly takes a bottle out from his desk drawer and runs over to you. He grabs your hands.

“Look at me, (Y/N). It’s okay. I’ll take off all the residue.” He promises, giving you a soft smile. Despite not liking seeing you in such discomfort, he forces the smile to help calm you down. He begins to massage the liquid from the bottle onto your fingers with a rag.

“See, it’s okay. It’s coming off.” He continues to speak softly, calming you.

“What is that stuff?” You ask.

“I wish I could say it’s some sort of fancy, scientific, protective disinfectant, but as it so happens it’s only nail polish remover.” You both chuckle quietly. “Janine gave it to me the last time I got superglue on something and couldn’t get it off.” He smiles down at your hands, still focused on getting the last little bit off.

“This slime is so different from the mood slime. I thought I saw it let go of a bubble, but it’s mostly doing nothing. I think it might be dead. I think it might be time to bury it in the backyard.” Peter begins to fake sob.

“Knock it off.” You laugh. “What backyard? This is Manhattan!”

“You should try touching it.” Peter suggests.

“Egon, said I should under no circumstances touch it directly, especially while he’s not here.” You inform him.

“Well Egon, is being overprotective. Nothing bad happened when everyone else touched the pink slime and I accidentally ate green slime once.” Venkman says.

“What do you mean accidentally?” You ask.

“It was our first mission. Slimer ran through me. It was a whole thing. I think you should touch it… You might be able to figure out what it is before Spengler gets back…” He tries to change your mind.

“You’re sure there were no serious side effects from touching the other slimes?” You ask, hesitantly. Egon would be annoyed if he found out you went against his pleas to keep your hands away from the plasma, but you wanted to impress him.

“Nothing serious. I grew an extra pinky, but they cut it off.” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny, Venkman.” You roll your eyes.

“Fine.” You sigh, taking a deep breath before plunging your hand into the blue viscous goo. “Oh…This is literally fine.” You feel no effect, but when your heart rate picks up you realize you spoke too soon. You fall onto the floor, knocking over the slime. You feel like your heart is racing, like it could beat out of your chest and you can’t suck enough air into your lungs. You’re terrified.

“(Y/N)!” Peter yells, rushing to the floor to help you. He tries to touch the the hand not covered in blue slime, but you push him away, sobbing. You don’t want him anywhere near you. You’re slipping away from reality into a deep state of panic and paranoia.

“Please! No!” You sob. It’s the only thing you can manage to get out. You barley recognize Peter anymore. He doesn’t feel like a friend. He feels like a threat.

“Honestly, the movie was quite terrible. Ray stopped for a 99 cent pizza on the corner. What did you- (Y/N)?!” Egon speaks as he enters the room, cutting himself off when he notices you’re in distress.

“Pete, what happened?!” Egon questions once he sees Venkman.

“We were doing an experiment and they touched the goo and they just started freaking out. They won’t let me near them.” Peter tells him, obviously shaken. You hear the two men, but you don’t process them. It’s like you’re underwater.

“This is different from their usual sensory issues. I think they’re having a panic attack.” Egon kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), you’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in the firehouse. I’m here.” He tells you slowly.

“I- I can’t breathe!” You gasp for air.

“Your lungs are expanding and contracting at a rate too fast for your body to intake oxygen. I need you to try to breathe slow and deep with me. In…and out. Nice and slow.” He prompts. “Peter, I need latex gloves and towels.” Venkman could have made multiple jokes about Egon’s command, but looking at you this way made him uneasy. It wasn’t the right time. After being handed the gloves, Egon slipped them on and got to work cleaning off your slime covered arm. You begin to sob, overwhelmed by the feeling of the slime, the latex gloves, and the towel. It was difficult to handle on top of your panic attack. “Peter, we need to get them into the decontamination shower.”

“No!” You gasp between sobs.

“Come, on. I’ll go with you. We can get all the plasma off of you.” Egon speaks softly, but with a gentle urgency, as he tries to coax you to the shower. You shake your head no. “Are you against touch right now?” He asks.

“They did not like when I touched them.” Venkman warns.

“Only you-“ You break out in a sob. It doesn’t even cross your mind that you may be offending Peter by only wanting Egon. Luckily he’s not offended. Egon begins to take off his glove to provide skin to skin contact on the arm not drenched in slime in an effort to comfort you.

“Aren’t you worried about getting that stuff on you?” Venkman questions, worried Egon will shutdown like you.

“I’m getting in the decontamination shower anyway.” Egon shrugs, turning to you. He takes your hand in his, softly rubbing the top with his thumb.

“But- but your clothes will get all wet!” You sob. You knew Egon had his own sensory issues. You’d often have to help him when his long sleeves would get wet during experiments. It would drive him crazy. He avoided puddles like the plague and always had an umbrella nearby.

“Try not to worry about me right now. I just want you to focus on your breathing. I can always change my clothes.” He smiles. While it hurts him to see you so distressed, he was happy to know you cared about his comfort. “Let’s go shower. You can’t leave all that slime on you. I believe it’s worsening your mental state.” You nod, still crying.

“I’ll get them under the shower, I’ll need you to turn it on. Make sure not to touch the slime. I got a minuscule amount on my finger and it’s making me rather anxious. I can only imagine what this amount is doing to them.” Egon tells Peter. He helps you to stand, walking your trembling form over to the shower. “There we go. Just a few more steps. You’re doing wonderfully, (Y/N).” Egon softly attempts to comfort you.

Once you’re under the shower head, Venkman turns it on. Both you and Egon jolt at the sudden water pressure. He tightens both his jaw and his grip on you, holding his eyes shut tight. He can’t stand the feeling of his wet clothes against his body, but he’s brave for you. Once adjusted to the water, Egon begins to wash the slime off your body with care. Peter leaves to go upstairs and get you some towels. You feel the panic and paranoia start to leave your body. Despite still being incredibly anxious, you were starting to phase out of your slime induced panic attack. You lean against Egon, struggling to hold your own body weight. Maybe you’ll be more embarrassed tomorrow, but right now you just needed to be held. You were craving pressure on your body. You felt as if you would float off the ground if you weren’t held down. Egon wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer. He places a kiss on your forehead before placing his chin on top of your head. You snuggled into his chest, finding his pulse. You didn’t have the time or the bandwidth in your brain to think about what the kiss meant. You just wanted to be close to him.

“You’re okay, (Y/N). You’re safe.” Egon tells you. You’re not sure if it’s for your benefit or his. It’s for both, really.

You’re quiet for most of the night, unable to bring yourself to speak. Egon doesn’t mind. He thinks a verbal shutdown is more than understandable after the night you’ve had. After the shower, you follow Egon around the fire station. You don’t want to be alone right now. He doesn’t mind. He puts out some of his clothes for you to wear; pajama pants and one of his soft sweaters. He goes to leave the room for you to change, but you stop him.

“Can- can we just like? Turn around?” You ask. “I’m sorry. If you’re uncomfortable, that’s okay. I just really don’t wanna be alone right now.” You voice is hoarse from crying.

“Of course.” He smiles, turning around.

“I’m decent.” He informs you after a minute of rustling.

“Me too.” You tell him and you both turn around.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him, near tears again. You feel awful for how tonight went. This was supposed to be the boys’ day off. Egon gives you a sad look.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You were just trying to help. Venkman told me he put you up to it anyway.” Egon sighs.

“I probably shouldn’t have listened to him.” You let out a sad chuckle, one tear slipping past you, down your cheek. You wipe it quickly.

“Never listen to Venkman.” Egon gives a sad laugh.

“At least we figured out what the slime does… Egon, can I ask you a question?” You hesitate.

“Well, you just did, but yes.” He smiles, joking to lighten the mood. You smile at him.

“Why did you do all that? You took off your gloves, putting yourself at risk and then you put yourself through sensory hell just to get me cleaned up.” You question him.

“Isn’t it obvious? (Y/N), I care about you.” You look at him, thinking about the tone in his words. You can’t quite decipher it, but there’s something else there. Is it possible he could feel the same way about you that you feel about him? “You should get some sleep.” He interrupts your thoughts. “If you’d rather not be alone, you may sleep in my room tonight. I would find it beneficial to monitor you overnight to watch for long lasting effects, anyway.” He adds.

“Only if that’s okay with you.” You hesitate.

“Of course it’s okay with me. I just suggested it.” He smiles.

Once you’re settled into bed, Egon turns off the lights and climbs in next to you.

“Egon, I’m still anxious.” You blurt out into the dark.

“Do you need pressure?” He asks.

“Yes.” You say, hoping he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t seem to mind, as he scoops you into his arms. You cuddle into his chest, surrounded by him, surrounded by safety. You know this should be weird, but it doesn’t feel weird. As Egon kisses the top of your forehead again, bidding you goodnight, you wonder what this all means. You wonder what you are to each other. You feel you’ve crossed the line as friends, but you’re too tired and too awkward and too anxious to talk about labels. You and Egon never quite fit into boxes as people anyway. Your relationship didn’t need to either. Whatever this was between you was comforting. It was safe and it was going to help you sleep tonight.

[starshideurfics]

Buzzed, Buzzing - part 2

part 1

Buzzed, Buzzing

JQ, you can’t go dropping TWO horny photoshoots on us in less than a week!

steddie, omegaverse, Buzzed part 2, mdni 🔞

Finally being with Eddie is a dream. At least for the week he’s in town, fully foregoing Steve’s guest room and its comfy mattress.

Instead, it’s a week of Eddie wrapped around Steve each night, skin touching skin, bodies sated in a bone-deep way Steve’s never felt before.

A week of waking up to Eddie’s lips on his neck, to whispers of, “Morning, Puppy,” and sleepy yawns, arms tugging him closer and closer.

A week of Robin saying, “I’m happy for you, truly, but could you try going five minutes without swapping spit?!” only for Eddie to look her dead in the eye and lick whatever part of Steve is closest to his mouth.

A week of Steve floating on a cloud of affection and hormones.

Then Eddie has to leave, head to Chicago and buckle down for long days filming.

Steve mopes their whole last morning, sneaking shirts out of Eddie’s suitcase until the alpha relents and dumps out his dirty laundry. “Put ‘em all in your nest, I can get new shirts.”

Steve purrs, gathers the shirts, and herds Eddie back to his room for a last quickie before Eddie’s Uber arrives.

Being apart sucks. They videochat daily, text constantly, but Steve still misses Eddie every second he’s gone. So, he’s back where he started, mooning over pics on his phone, scenting at Eddie’s boxers as he works three fingers into his aching pussy.

He’s holding out, but Steve is counting down the days until shooting wraps, when Eddie would fly straight to Indy.

Steve’s on his lunch break, typing out a response to Eddie’s latest text as he shove pretzel thins and hummus in his mouth, when his phone starts buzzing.

Robin is calling, from the other end of the building. “Hey, Robbie, need me to get you a coke zero?” he asks instead of saying hello.

“Don’t tell me you got rid of your Munson-stalking web alert, because that’s the only reason I can think of for why you aren’t freaking out!”

He did, not really needing it when he has Eddie checking in with him at least hourly. “What? Robin, I’m texting with Eddie right now, what do you think I missed?”

“Just, look him up; your ADHD gremlin boyfriend probably forgot to mention it!”

Steve opens google, starts typing Eddie’s name and only gets as far as “ED” before autofill finishes it for him.

A new photoshoot and accompanying interview. Steve gets caught by a photo of Eddie eating a peach. It’s such a thirst trap, but it makes Steve smile.

Besides, there are other notes, but Steve’s scent has always been peach-forward. It might be a coincidence. Steve doesn’t think it is.

He reads the interview; about his current project, lots on the movie coming out next month that filmed a year ago, and his costars including a chill cat.

But right under the peach picture is a question about his personal life, how he stays grounded and connected when he’s constantly moving around for work. 

Eddie starts, as he always does, with Wayne, his friends, his charity work, the arts scholarship he funds.

“The truth is that it’s all for my partner. Like, I want to put good into the world, help kids like me who didn’t have the best start in life, but my focus is on being good enough for him, being the kind of person he can be proud of.” 

The journalist asks him to elaborate.

She writes about Eddie’s smile, the small one where he averts his gaze, emotions too big to share. “I dunno, just that he’s got me beat by a mile—he’s a teacher, middle school, you know, the worst time in a kid’s life. And he loves it!”

More words on Eddie’s laugh and kind eyes.

“So, yeah, the people I love, the people who love me, that’s how I keep my head on straight. That’s what it’s all about, right? Family, friends. Pack.”

Steve’s vision goes blurry on the last little paragraph. He wipes the tears from his eyes and pulls out his phone.

Just read the article! I’ve always been proud of you ❤️

Three little dots appear immediately to show Eddie’s typing, but they disappear and instead Steve’s phone buzzes with a call.

“I forgot that was coming out today! I should have warned you!”

Steve grins. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not, but thank you. And it wasn’t too much? I’m trying to keep my private life private, but if I can’t talk to you, I wanna talk about you. All the time. Because I fucking miss you, Puppy.”

“It’s okay,” Steve reiterates. “I miss you, too. So much. Wish you were here.”

The whine he lets out makes Eddie chuckle, low and dark. “Wish I had you here, could show you how much I miss you. At least you’ve got some new visual aides, but maybe tonight, when I call you could show me… Get your fingers wet for me.”

Steve lets out another breathy whine. “Yeah, want that.” He presses his legs together, tries to tamp down the feelings of desire before he gets too wet at work. “Miss your fingers, though.”

“Good,” Eddie husks. Steve can hear him lick his lips, so he knows Eddie’s nervous. “And it was supposed to be a surprise. But I’ve got the weekend off. My flight gets in at 9 on Friday night.”

Now expanded into a full fic! Read here

[eat-limes-bitches]

Take A Chance

PAIRING: Female Reader x  Bucky Barnes

SUMMARY:  Who knew one look could calm the raging storm of his mind.

SONG Be Brave by Owl City

WARNINGS: Angst, (Bucky's self-loathing, anxiety, mention of nightmares, hinting to PTSD) Fluff!!!

Word Count: 1212

A/N: Hi! Here is the 2nd part! Sorry, it took so long! If you haven't read the first part yet you can click HERE to read it first, but you don't have to, you can read this as a stand-alone. I've already started part 3 so be on the lookout for that!

Enjoy! <3

Divider by Rookthorne

Bucky stood outside Joe’s coffee shop a little before nine, fiddling with the bouquet in his hands, tracing his eyes over the colored petals. He had asked the little old lady at the flower shop what would be best. She had looked him over thoughtfully before producing the bouquet with a smile, shooing him off insiting he not pay, as he was a regular there and had never bought flowers for a special someone before. He stuck the cash he intended to pay her in the tip jar and shuffled out the door and over to Joe’s where he was now standing. 

Was this too old-fashioned? Do girls even like flowers anymore? What if she doesn’t even show up? I’ll look like an idiot.

He began to question himself, starting to become nervous. He rubbed a gloved hand over his thigh as he began to spiral, but a sweet voice pulled him out of it before he descended too far into madness. 

“Hi, Bucky!”

Bucky froze and turned around to look at the speaker. Sure enough, there was the woman from the movie theater the night before. She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes bright and warm, chasing off the chill of the January air. Bucky shook his head and cleared his throat,

“Oh! Um- Hi, Y/n.” He offered her an awkward smile as he handed her the bouquet, “These are for you.”

She gingerly took the flowers from him, eyes wide as she looked at them before shifting her gaze up to his. The longer she stayed silent, the more dread he felt building up in his stomach. 

“I-I’m sorry, it was probably stupid and old-fashioned but my ma woulda killed me if she knew I went to meet a pretty girl without flowers a-and I didn’t know what to get so the lady at the store told me-”

His rambling was cut off when Y/n waved her hand. 

“No! I love them! It’s just, no one has ever bought me flowers before.” She said shyly, looking down at her boots. Now it was Bucky’s turn to be surprised, how had no one ever bought her flowers, he would never understand. He made a silent vow to himself to buy her as many flowers as he could. 

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like them.” He said softly, the corner of his lips turning up in a small but genuine smile as he motioned to the coffee shop. “Shall we?” Y/n smiled and nodded and the pair made their way into the shop. As soon as Bucky opened the door, a sense of comfort washed over him along with the smell of fresh coffee and pastries. The pair shuffled inside and up to the counter.  The kid who worked behind the counter on Saturdays came over and took their orders, saying that he would be bringing it over to their table shortly. Bucky motioned for Y/n to pick a seat and she picked the booth in the back of the shop. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” She said as Bucky began to sit down, “I like to be able to see everything, makes me feel a little more at ease.”

Bucky smiled, he didn’t mind at all, in fact, he felt much more comfortable at the back of the shop. He was no longer the Winter Soldier but some of those habits are hard to break, like making note of every exit and entrance of a place, keeping a head count on everyone that entered and left, double locking doors, and many other little tics. 

“No, this is fine,” he said with a smile, “This is my usual booth.”

She smiled brightly at him and seemed to relax a bit before asking, “So do you come here often?” 

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about his response, trying to decide how to say it without giving away who he was all at once. 

“Uh yeah, a friend of mine brought me here when I was trying to find myself after coming back from a hard time in life.” He internally cringed at his explanation gauging Y/n’s reaction as she thought about his words. She gave him a soft smile and nodded before she spoke;

“Yeah, Steve was a great guy like that, I’m sure it’s been hard on you since he left.” Bucky felt his blood run cold Shit, she does know who I am, she thinks I’m a monster. How does she know Steve? Is she from HYDRA? I knew this was too good to be true, no one would ever want someone like me. His thoughts began to spiral out of control until Y/n tapped on the table to get him to look at her. She gave him a sheepish smile;

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have dropped that on you like that. It wasn’t fair of me. I’m sure you think I’m a spy or something but I promise you I’m not. I was neighbors with Steve for a time. He spoke very fondly of you, even after all of the fighting and horrible things that happened to you and I’m sorry about that. No one deserves what you went through.”

Her words were soft and gentle as if she were talking to a frightened animal. Bucky blinked in surprise, staying quiet for a few moments before speaking again,

“You don’t think I’m a monster?” Her rasped out.

She gave him a sad smile as she placed her hand on top of his, “You’re not a monster. You’re a mirror, a thing that shows the reflection of the real monsters, with the cracks to prove that you lived through it. There is good in you, there always has been. It was the one thing in this century Steve was 100 percent certain of. I trust him and his judgment. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

These words triggered some sort of visceral response in Bucky. His racing heart slowed down, breathing coming back to normal levels, and his thoughts, for the first time in a while, stilled. The incessant hurricane of toxic thoughts and poisonous memories dissolved, leaving clear skies instead, something so beautiful it almost brought tears to his eyes. He looked down at the table and took her hand in his, looking back up with a soft smile. 

Y/n gave His hand a gentle squeeze. She knew what he was trying to say, and she didn’t need to hear the words to know what it was. Their orders were brought out and so they shared small talk, which seemed to come so easily but he was taking little notes of each of her responses, not wanting to forget a single detail.

Favorite color? Bue, but not bright blue. Soft, like worn denim.

Dogs or cats? Both are great, but she currently has a dog.

Favorite time of day? Early evening. The world starts to darken and you can just see the stars poking through the colors of the sky.

The longer they talked, the more the storm was tamed in Bucky’s mind and he realized that he could get used to this kind of peace that he hadn’t known in a long time, only if she was there with him.

[wildemaven]

first anniversary | dieter x poppy

A Sweet Creature

Ava Greene sits down with actor and friend, Dieter Bravo. Hollywood’s new leading man gets candid about life in front of and behind the camera. He talks about his latest movie, his commitment to his sobriety and his newest role— husband?!

Ava Greene: You're approaching three years sober now, how are you feeling?

Dieter Bravo: Probably the best I’ve felt in a long time. Sobriety is a day to day progression that I take very seriously, and I try to not lose sight of that even when I’m having bad days. Though, I’m grateful bad days have been few and far between at this point in my sobriety. I can attribute that to the support system I have built for myself through friends, family, my sponsor that I still work with and most importantly my wife who keeps me grounded daily. They all continue to keep me in check and remind me how awesome my life is, especially right now. Staying clean is a full time commitment, and it’s really a beautiful thing.

AG: You followed in your famous parents footsteps by going into acting and your career and struggles with sobriety have been well documented but your parents have rarely commented publicly, are they supportive of your work and your journey?

DB: For me, I don’t need them to make a show of it by commenting or sharing their thoughts publicly to know they support me. There was a point in time where they did all they could do for me, but ultimately it had to be my choice to make the decision to get clean. Thankfully, we’ve been rebuilding our relationship over the last few years. And being in the public eye for most of our lives, the last thing we want is for outsiders thinking they have a say in our lives. In short, yes I have very supportive parents in all aspects of my life and I’m so happy for that.

AG: This is your second project since rehab, are you viewing this as a comeback or a fresh start?

DB: Comeback? I didn’t know I left… Kidding! Sure, some might say it’s a comeback. A fresh start. Whatever analogy best fits the narrative is fine by me— and I don’t mean that negatively in any sense. I mean, you’ve known me long enough to know I just try not to focus on any of that stuff, messes with my fucking brain waves. I just see it as me doing what I love with a new perspective and a different approach to choosing what projects I’m going to give my time to than I have in the past.

AG: What can you tell us about this project and the character you're playing?

DB: I had the best f*ckin’ time while shooting this film— sorry, but the emphasis was needed. I was really drawn to the vibrancy that this script evoked, even with the serious nature of the storyline and characters. I couldn’t stop thinking or talking about for weeks afterwards. I’d sit with my wife at breakfast and we’d discuss the script and my character for what felt like hours. I knew after I heard her feedback that I needed to be apart of this film— she might have said I’d be stupid to say no to it, in her own loving way.

The film is really about the process of rediscovering yourself. Navigating the challenges that come along with being at your lowest point and leaning on the ones who have been there for you. It’s about finding love in its purest form when you never thought you were deserving of it.

I found bits of myself in this character as we were filming, it was very much a cathartic experience for me. I guess you could say it was art imitating life in a weird way.

AG: There's already been some buzz about this year's award season, do you think this is finally your year?

DB: Ooooh! Is it too presumptuous for me to say yes?! I’ve started dusting the spot where I plan for it to go. I sound like some sort of pompous idiot! Now no one is going to go see it!*

I take it back!

In all seriousness, ‘cause I’m sure Poppy and my agent will be rolling their eyes when they read this. If all I get is a couple nominations, that alone feels like winning. A shiny statue would be nice though— just saying.

AG: You've talked often about your love of art and you recently purchased a gallery. Are you planning to publicly pursue other creative endeavors?

DB: I won’t be joining American Idol anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. Oh, you weren’t referring to my ability to hold a note during our many karaoke nights— noted!

How did you put it? Other creative endeavors? I’ve got a few art pieces in the works right now that I’m itching to dive back into when I get home. I’ve got a major gallery in LA lined up later in the year for an artist spotlight exhibit, they’ll be housing some of my work through the next year. Shoutout to my wife for getting that all lined up while I was away shooting this film.

AG: What's next for Dieter Bravo? Any other projects lined up you can tell us about?

DB: I’m looking forward to some downtime I have coming up. Poppy has the summer off, so we’ll get to finally live that newlywed life. Settle into the role of doting husband while she does her thing at the gallery.

AG: Off the record, if you got married and didn't tell anyone I will kick yours and Poppy’s ass!

DB: We’re celebrating our one year this month actually. We eloped quietly last year right after we got engaged— wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while. Which reminds me, you and Bryony should hop on a call with Poppy after this. Seeing as I let the cat out of the bag and this is our announcement— surprise!

Huge shoutout out to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for allowing me to borrow her Ava from Conversations with a Movie Star for this. Ava was so gracious and even wrote the questions herself. I’m so grateful for Lellen and all her support and advice she had given me throughout the writing process of Sweet Creature!

Sweet Creature Celebration

[vrystalius]

Can I request a sequel to Sanemi and the art teacher? I simply loved this ask, thank you for making me happy with your writing and kindness!

Dinner in his livingroom

Part two of Lunch in the teacher’s lounge <3

Pairing: teacher!Sanemi x teacher!reader

(Not proofread!!)

Sanemi has been eyeing you the whole movie, not even paying attention to it anymore. You made yourself look so pretty with your hair all done, make-up real nice and your outfit perfect. His hands were resting on his lap, grabbing a handful of popcorn every now and then, itching to move a little closer to yours. But that would be weird since you’re his co-worker. Right?

It was already evening when the movie ended, the air around you two cool and the sun already disappeared. “Damn, already this late?” Sanemi took his phone out and checked the time “Didn’t we want to grab a bite as well?” He turned his head to you and stuffed his phone back into his jean pocket, crossing his arms over his chest. You pouted a little. “Yeah, sorry. I guess not. Most of the restaurants should be closed now, I’m sorry. I should’ve planned this out more.” You genuinely seemed upset about not being able to go out with him. Sanemi was eyeing you up and down, silently admiring you. He groaned loudly and shook his thoughts off. “I uhh.. I’ve got food at home. We could cook something up. If ya wanna come over.” He scratched the back of his head while avoiding eye contact. Your eyes sparkled up in delight as you stepped a little closer. “Really? I’d be happy to! I hope you don’t mind.” You clasped your hands together and smiled brightly up at him. Sanemi nodded and gestured over to his car. “Let’s go then. Come.”

Sanemi’s home is actually quite cozy. He has lots of family pictures on the wall and well taken care of plants. Everything is clean and quite organised. While Sanemi grabbed the ingredients to cook, you quietly admired him. You noticed how broad his shoulders are, how muscular his forearms looked and those scars on his face are pulling his whole look together. If you didn’t knew any better, you’d think he was some kind of fighter before becoming a teacher.

“What are you staring at?” While you were admiring him from behind, Sanemi glanced over to you, catching your gaze. He lifted his eyebrow. “Sorry! Sorry. Just tired.” You quickly moved over to his side, washing your hands in the sink.

A small smirk grew on his face while you weren’t looking.

You never knew how good of a cook Sanemi was! He basically did everything for you, leaving you to just watch him cook the best meal you’ve ever seen and probably tasted. You sat across Sanemi as you dug into the beautifully prepared meal he had prepared for you. “Mmhh!” You hummed and smiled brightly. He glanced over at you as you did so. “Is it good?” “Yeah! Thank you so much for cooking for me! I never thought you’d be so nice to me.” Sanemi raised his eyebrow slightly and glanced at you. Sure, he has the reputation to be a little meaner and rude, but were you really this hesitant to talk to him? “You don’t know a lotta things about me, I guess.” You nodded. “I hope to get to know more things about you though, you seem pretty nice.” He nodded again while quietly eating his meal.

Sanemi would love to get to know you. The students and teachers adore you, and you’ve been nothing but nice to him so far, even if he was rougher and hasher with you.

“Let’s do this again sometime. I can cook for you again… only if you’d like.“

💠

I love teacher Sanemi so much… I kind of hc him as a smoker and that Genya and him love together, but my creative juices ran out and I was too lazy to write- perhaps another time if you all want! And thank YOU so much for your kindness!!

I just re-read Sanemi’s description as a teacher in the kny again, and apparently small kids cry when he gets too close.. poor Nemi.

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[twistedinthreads]

Lost In The Labyrinth

Part 1.

You came to Oxford to get away from America; from your mother's fame and the ghosts of your past. You get more than you bargained for when you meet Felix.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: sexual content (not explicit but it's there so 18+ MINORS DNI), I used some descriptors for reader such as scars, birthmarks, imperfections, but I made her as inclusive as possible, reader is American, she's also a nepo baby but isn't using her nepotism in any real way. Bi!reader and Felix. fic title inspired by the taylor swift song, of course (and I am terrible at titles!)

Playlist (a work in progress!)

A/N: I am so insecure about this reading back over it omgggg but I'm posting it anyway! Hi friends. I've been working on this for so long, and I'm recovering from my surgery so I figured there's no time like the present. Here we are. I am obsessed with this movie and this man! I promise this fic is gonna get more interesting, but we've got this for now. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist, and feel free to send me asks if you want to talk about reader and her lore, because she is very special to me and I adore her already!!!

Your eyes droop as you hum along to the nameless blonde that stands in front of you, her sparkly pink cocktail dress catching the light and making her glow. She’s going on and on about how Everlasting Eve is her favorite movie of all time, and how your mother is “the greatest actress of our time!” You want to vomit. It’s not like this doesn’t happen, it’s practically a daily occurrence at this point, but you’d much prefer it if people stopped giving so much of a shit. If they did, you wouldn’t be stood with a bottle blonde from Bristol talking your ear off. You’d just stepped out to get some air, for Christ’s sake. 

“You’re from the States, right?” You nod, sipping at your cocktail and bouncing from one foot to the other to conserve some warmth in your legs. She asks it as if she hasn’t been talking your ear off and didn’t notice your accent, not as thick as it used to be when you’d lived in New York full time, but still foreign here. The music is less obnoxious out here, bass easing on your chest. It’s cooler, too, the fall night air brushing against your neck like a lover. “That’s brilliant! I went with my parents once, when I was a kid. We went to Disney World.” 

You smile and nod, muttering out a “cool” as you sip at your drink, cringing at its strength. 

“Is that far from where you live?” She asks, and you wonder how she got into this fucking school. Probably a legacy, with more money than she knows what to do with.

“Uh,” you suppress a laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, like… incredibly South of New York.” 

“I’ve always wanted to go to New York,” she continues to babble. “My parents go on business trips there, but they’ve never taken me. I want to see where Little Angels was filmed! Uh, Lincoln Square Park?”

“Washington Square Park,” you correct her. 

“Yeah!” She snaps her fingers and points. “That’s it! When your mom’s character is waiting there for Hugh Grant’s character, and then they walk off into the sunset together? Absolutely the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen!”

You stare off into the distance vacantly, the night sky painted with different navy hues and dotted with the brushstrokes of stars. 

Suddenly, you feel a warm arm around your waist, hot breath on your cheek. “There you are!” You’d know that voice anywhere. The figure kisses you on the cheek and it takes everything in you not to start grinning from ear to ear. You turn, meeting his lips, and he plays along like it’s the most normal thing in the world. “I’m gonna head home, wanna come with?”

You nod, thanking him with your eyes. He winks gently at you and grabs your hand. “Nice talking to you…” you’ve already forgotten her name. Her tone has completely shifted, body stiff as her eyes mull over you and the man that holds your hand with a vice grip. 

“Sandra.” It’s cold, but you keep your own voice chipper. 

“Sandra! Nice to meet you,” she’s in your college, so you’ll have to be cordial. “See you around?”

She just nods and lights a cigarette. 

As you walk away, one of Felix’s hands around your waist and the other holding your own, you look up at him. “Thank you so much. Holy shit. I was about to lose it.”

He lets out a low, intoxicated chuckle. “It’s what I’m here for, darling.” Uses his fingers on your chin, tugging lightly to kiss you hard on the mouth. He pulls away and you chase his lips, planting one more kiss on his mouth, this time softer. 

“Your room or mine?” You ask, to be met with a smirk as he grabs your hand and leads you across campus. It’s a path you could walk with your eyes closed, the muscle memory of so many nights embedded into your body by now. 

His room is all red carpet and wood paneling, empty takeout containers and beer cans and ashtrays strewn about. His bed is unmade and his textbooks are all over his floor, but it hardly matters when he’s kissing you like you’re the only person in the fucking universe. 

Within minutes, you settle back into a familiar routine. Clothes shed, completely bare to one another as you grind and writhe on top of him, hands on his toned chest. He’s gorgeous with his mouth open in ecstasy, labored breaths escaping it, eyes closed and clenched, hands rested on your waist as you move above him, a renaissance painting. You’re moaning too, tempering your whines so that the sounds don’t travel. The moon paints the room in subtle, cool light and the pleasure makes sweat bead on your brows.

“Missed you,” he manages between moans, voice heavy and breathy. “Missed this.” 

“It’s been like, two days,” you let out a chuckle, and it fades into a moan as you grind your hips again, trying not to scratch his chest with your manicured nails, though you doubt he'd mind too much.

“And that’s too long,” he replies, and you lean down and kiss him, open mouthed and messy and euphoric. 

When it’s all said and done, you lay naked beside him while he smokes a cigarette, arm laced around your bare shoulder, your head rested on his. It’s bliss, something you’ve begun to ache for all the time. “Really, thank you. That girl was driving me fucking insane.”

“That scene where your mom’s character and Hugh Grant ride off into the sunset together? Immaculate.” He mocks the girl, a surprisingly good impersonation, and you both belly laugh. You wipe away bits of red lipstick from his mouth and grin delicately at him. You know you’re not the only girl he’s seeing, not even the only girl he’s fucking, and it wedges something vile and dangerous in your heart. The words linger on your tongue. You want to ask, want to know, and if you sound desperate? Well, so be it. 

“What is this?” You wrench the words out quickly, looking at your hands. 

“What do you mean?” He takes a long drag of the cigarette, letting the smell perforate the air in the room, turning it cloudy in its wake. 

“Us,” you murmur, and he runs a hand through your hair. “Like… I know you’re fucking other people, Felix. And that’s fine but… I just want to be clear on what this.” 

He looks at you perplexed, smashing the cigarette in the ash tray and turning on his side toward you. You mirror his motions, so the two of you are laying in bed, you practically on top of him due to its size, your hands under your cheek. “I’m fucking other girls? News to me.” 

“I see the way you look at them,” you murmur. “India. Annabel. That guy you study with sometimes… Ryan?”

“I’m not fucking anyone else,” he mutters, seeming almost offended at the notion. He scoffs before his next words. “I practically haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“Fe-“ he cuts you off, a hand brushing over your cheek, holding it delicately. 

“No,” he starts. “I know I have a reputation or whatever,” he waves his free hand around. “But I genuinely haven’t been seeing anyone else since we started… this.” He gestures between the two of you, and you can sense that he's lying, but it hardly matters. 

You’re almost self-conscious as his eyes rake over your body; so self aware of every little imperfection, every feature. The birthmark on your hip. The way one tit is just a bit bigger than the other. Your crooked finger from when you broke it playing volleyball in ninth grade. The gray hairs you’d been noticing popping up recently. 

“You’re the prettiest fucking girl at this college,” he says your name before kissing you sweetly. “Don’t want to look at anyone else.” You know it’s a lie, considering the fact that he does look at other girls, and often. It’s almost like you can’t bother to care, though. Your head is all floaty and tears are burning your eyes. 

He climbs on top of you, kisses down your chest, down your stomach, makes sure to take his time kissing that same birthmark you were so insecure about minutes before, your inner thighs, before finally landing where it matters most. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful, yeah?” He looks up at you with those gorgeous eyes, the earnestness in them making your heart swell up. In this moment, it’s not the same Felix that made you cry last week because he told you you needed to get your own friends (you have plenty), or the Felix that ignored you at the pub to talk to Annabel, causing you to storm out and ignore him for three days until he realized. 

Sometimes, he doesn’t care if you come, and he doesn’t clean up after himself, and sometimes his words bite, and last week he made that insensitive comment about your friend with depression. But you think you might love him, and it feels like enough. 

After, he asks you to stay with him. You laugh languidly, tears brimming at your eyes from how hard. He kisses you, soft and slow, the moonlight seeping into the window and painting the carpet with light; it looks like a lone puddle of blood in a sea of blackness. 

When you wake, it’s nearly noon. The sun beams through the curtains and you shield your eyes, trying to move underneath Felix’s strong grip. He’s got a hand wrapped around your thigh. Your leg wrapped around his waist while your arms are, slightly pained from the uncomfortable angle, folded around his neck. You regret moving your face from its spot in his chest, wanting nothing more than to occupy his space for as long as possible. 

You can’t bear to wake him, his eyelashes fluttering ever-so-slightly against his face. You smile, tuck yourself back into him, and feel his breaths come out relaxed and steady. The tranquility doesn’t last long, though, and you watch as his eyes flicker open. “Good morning,” his voice is raspy, his saccharine accent accentuating every word with posh sweetness. He kisses your cheek and gets up, your eyes meeting his bare ass. “I should go shower, you cool to stay here?” He asks as he gathers his things. 

“I need to go,” you also get up, searching around for your undergarments and your uncomfortable cocktail dress, pulling the blue, beaded garment on without much care. “Sundays are study days with June.”

You slip your uncomfortable heels on, wincing at the blister you’d developed last night but didn’t notice until now, and kiss him on the cheek as you leave his dorm. 

The trek across campus has you nearly limping in pain, as you kick your shoes off the second you make it into your room. You gather your shower gear, thankful for your own bathroom and the warmth of a long, hot shower. It’s almost painful to wash his scent off of you, but you know you’ll be seeing him again soon, and let your floral body wash cleanse you and your sore form. 

Before you get dressed, you grab antibiotic cream and bandaids from a drawer and tend to your blisters, throwing on a pair of slip-ons to avoid even more pain. 

And as you go to study with June, your mind is far from Shakespeare; it rests only on Felix, Felix, Felix. 

[cryptidcorners]

HEY! could we get a cute oneshot abt mike and reader being his gf and being taller than him 😭😭 i think it’d be so silly and cute and funny

Mike Schmidt x F!Reader - Short Problems

Description: Just a sweet one-shot with Mike's girlfriend being taller than him . Requested by anon .

Media: FNaF!Movie

Character: Mike Schmidt

Tags: Girlfriend!Reader + Reader is written to be above 5'5, Fluff, Height Differences, Established Relationship, Slice of Life, One-Shot, Flustered/Shy!Mike bits, Sweet Talk, Cute Stuff.

No Warnings.

Check out my INTRO before reading, thank you.

Mike's hand was extending so far, he swore he could touch the stars if he could. Yet, his fingertips were scraping against the rim of his fridge, exclaiming quietly in frustration. He swore a couple times after he rocked up and down on his toes, struggling more each and every time. He had tossed an old box of cereal far against the roof of his freezer a couple of days ago due to the pure exhaustion of his draining work life. His eyes were too droopy to clean so he had abandoned his traditional skills and fell into a circle of just throwing things out of sight.

"Shit." Mike sucked his teeth, "Come on." he grunted. He was getting nowhere, and it was itching him the more he stirred. Even if he gave up, he'd still think about it. Mike couldn't believe he was trying so hard to get a partially empty box that was probably webbed with dust.

"Hey, Mike. Have you seen the-" you were walking into the living room, eyes fixed on your hands as they stuffed a few bent documents into your already crammed purse. You looked up, stopping in your tracks as you saw your boyfriend lightly hopping to reach something. "-what are you doing?" You felt bad for laughing, but it was almost cartoonish. Mike's head swung around in embarrassment, "I'm trying to get some cereal, but it's fine. I'll get it, it's just . . . really," he grunted. "back there."

Your gaze flew up, "Michael, it's not that far up." you giggled. It wasn't even that far from the edge. Mike released a tempered exhale and strolled away from the fridge door. "Well, why don't you try." He challenged. Though, you could tell he knew you were right judging by his face shying away.

You flashed a smug smurk before reaching your hand up slowly, drinking up Mike's face before snatching the box and shaking it with a light snicker. "Here you go, baby."

He was trying to look unimpressed, "It's your heels,"

You peppered his face with kisses as his face softened and loosened from mock denial, as Michael mumbled some protests, he started giggling once you reached his neck. You always knew he grew soft when you went there, "Okay, okay!" Michael exhaled. "Thank you. Come on--pfft! Thank you!"

You reeled your face back and pressed the box against his chest with a loving expression, "If you ever need me to reach things for you, just ask, okay? You know I love helping you."

"Well, you know I love not bothering you." Mike titled his head. So, you threatened him with another peck to his cheek, making him recoil playfully. "Kidding, kidding."

“I’m just joking,” your eyes veered to the clock. “I really gotta go, I’ll pick Abby up after work, kay?”

“You really don’t need to,” Mike sighed. “I can.” You pushed away his reply gently, “Just focus on work. It’ll be fine.”

Mike nodded and let you slip out of his tight grip and out the door. Just before you left, he grabbed your shoulder. “Look, by the way, it really was the heels.” Mike told you after kissing you again. He really was hooked on you. You smirked, “If you ever need to feel tall, you can borrow.” and you ruffled his hair before getting ready to work with the biggest smile on your face.

[mustainegf]

hi im the same person that requested the restaurant thing i have another idea😭🙏🏻

brothers bestfriend type thing? and sort of age gap but not too much of an age gap. AND ONE MORE THING. size kink😜. i sound stupid af but 👍

FIRST OF ALL I KNOW THIS REQ IS OLLDDDDD I SWEAR I STARTED WRITING IT THE DAY I GOT IT BUT THINGS PILED UP

the size kink part got a tad bit lost I think, lmk 😭

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ¹⁹⁸³

Well, James was always there, ever since my brother came home from school with him when they were kids. He was a year and a half older than me, and as time passed by, I could only develop a crush on him.

He was sweet, shy, the kind of guy who charmed in his own nervous little way. Over the years, I had learned to hide it inside, watching from afar as he and my brother had become like glue.

It was on one of those quiet summer nights, when everything changed. James had been sleeping over our house, just like countless times before.

My brother and him had been watching horror movies late into the night and now there was a complete death like silence as everyone drifted off to sleep.

I had stayed awake reading a book, when finally I finished it. I decided to go downstairs and quench my thirst with a glass of water from the kitchen.

I walked down the dim hall and rammed into what seemed to be a solid, warm mass. I looked up to find James standing there, his hands balancing me with a surprised grin.

"Sorry," I whispered, flushing my cheeks.

"No problem," he answered in a low pitch, the resonance of his voice hoarse in the silence of the night.

We stood for a moment, and the silence was heavy with an unsaid tension. His hand seemed to linger on my arm, and I felt the heat from his skin through the thin material of my pajama top.

"What are you doing up so late?" he asked, leaning casually against the wall.

"Couldn't sleep," I replied. "Just getting some water."

"Same here," he said with a faint smile. "Your brother's snoring is impossible to sleep through."

We both chuckled softly. I could feel a strange nervousness between us.

"Well, I should probably go back to bed," I said and took a step into my room.

"Yeah, me too." But neither he nor I moved an inch.

I looked back over where he was standing outside the door, feeling emboldened, almost flirtatious. "You want to come in for a little while? If neither of us can sleep..."

James hung there for a second before nodding. "Sure."

I walked ahead into my bedroom and closed the door but not completely. James followed me and closed the door behind him, the click seemed loud, as if we were doing something taboo.

We sat on the edge of my bed, and an awkward silence fell between us, pushing us apart and pulling us together all at once. James looked at me, in his eyes, a search for any sign of hesitation. When he found none, he turned to me and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're different," he spoke softly. "More grown up. I can’t believe I’ve known you all these years.” He smiled, thinking back.

I felt my cheeks go warm, and my heart skipped. "Well, I’m almost 19," I chuckled, trying to sound casual.

James chuckled and barely touched his hand to my cheek. "Yeah, yeah, I know."

We just looked into each other's eyes for a long while. I felt the blood rushing to my face, and my mind raced with things I had never dared to think before.

The next thing I knew, I was leaning over, slowly locking my lips with his. It was hesitant at first, like he was scared to go too far, but when I eagerly returned, he deepened it.

My hands finally met his shoulders, and I held on to him like he was my anchor onto the world. His hands moved down my back, leaning us down right onto the bed.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he panted between kisses. "You're my best friend's sister.”

"I don't care," I whispered back, my fingers tangling in his pretty, long hair. "I want you, James. Please."

He groaned as he crumbled, and he kissed me again, his hands on my body suddenly quick in their roaming.

We sort of tumbled onto the bed, frantic, before he paused for a moment, looking at me worriedly.

"Are you 100% sure about this?" he asked again. His voice was still so soft and tender.

"Mhm," I hummed, heart thudding. "But…James, there's something I need to tell you first."

"What is it?" he asked as his eyes scouring mine.

"I, uh… I'm a virgin," I murmured.

His eyes widened, and he let out a shuddering breath as if he was shocked. "I'll be gentle," he promised, and his lips ghosted against my forehead. "But I can't promise I won't tease you. You're just too irresistible."

His words had me giggling. "Okay then, Hetfield," I whispered back.

James kissed me once more, his hands striving slowly up and down my body. He dragged his lips down my neck as his fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt. He pulled it off me, revealing my bare chest, and he let out a deep groan at the raw sight.

"You're so beautiful," he groaned, his lips trailing down into my chest.

I whined as he kissed and nipped at my skin, his hands making quick work of my Bra. He flung it out of the way as his lips moved down to my breasts, his tongue flicking and tasting over my sensitive nipples. I moaned softly, trying to keep quiet so we wouldn't be heard.

I was turning to jelly at the look of him, so much bigger than me, leaving me in his shadow as he devoured me.

His hands slipped further down my body, slipping under the waistband of my shorts. He pulled them down, along with my panties, baring everything for him.

"You're perfect," he said, his eyes raking over my body. “So delicate.” He pulled my legs apart again, tracing with fingers the sensitive skin on the inner thighs.

It was then that my body started shaking as I bit into my lip. "Please, James," I begged, needing him more than I had ever needed anything before.

His fingers danced at my entrance, and he smirked. "So needy," he murmured. The combination of amusement and desire was a heady thing in his voice. "I love it."

I whimpered and mewled, my hips bucking against his hand. "Please," I repeated, the word more than desperate.

Finally, James slid a finger inside of me. I gasped at the sensation, my back arched off the bed. Sure I’d fingered myself before, but having James do it… God, it was unreal.

He moved in slowly, his touch light as he explored each crevice inside of me.

“That’s it," he muttered, his eyes dark and swimming with his long held desires. "Doin’ so good."

He added a second finger, stretching me open while he continued stealing kisses from my lips. I felt myself becoming wetter with tick and motion. "James," I moaned, my hands clawing at his shoulders as my voice bounced off the walls.

"Shh," he whispered back, his lips grazing against my ear. "We have to be quiet, remember?”

I nodded, clamping my teeth together to keep myself from moaning as James worked his fingers inside me further while his thumb Very slowly worked my clit. The feeling was enough to make stars dance in front of my face. "You feel so good," he sighed, full of awe. “I’m still shocked you’re a virgin.” James snickered.

His tongue roamed every inch of my body, kissing and exploring my shivering skin. He stopped when he reached the core. Looking up, he grinned wickedly at me. "Fuck, I can't wait to taste you."

My cheeks burned, my body racked with a tremor of exctement. James's mouth finally landed on my clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves. I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from crying out.

James worked me with skill that left me to wonder how many times he'd down this before, sucking and licking me to the edge a number of times before pulling back and teasing.

"Please," I begged, never once thinking James would have me in this position. Towering over me, reducing me to a puddle of moans. "I need you, James, bad..."

He raised his gaze to mine, something dangerous flickering in his head as out eyes found each other. "You want me to fuck you?" he asked, almost amused.

I nodded wildly, like I was a deprived animal. "P-Please, James."

He moved back up my body, ridding himself of his shorts and boxers. His arousal sprung up agaisnt his lean stomach. Sure, I'd seen a few dicks in porno mags that my friends had, or some idiot in school. But this was different. He was raw, just a inches away from me.

I took in every detail of him, from the small patch of well groomed hair, to his impressive length. James gripped himself with a groan, teasing himself a second as he glanced up at me.

I nodded just as he was positioning himself between my legs. His cock he guided to my entrance, where the tip was sort of teasing me as he hovered above my body. "This might hurt a little," he said, his voice soft and low. "I'll go slow."

I nodded again, bracing myself against the possible pain. I gripped James shoulders as he stayed close, letting me hold onto him for support.

James pushed forward, and the head of his cock slipped inside me. I winced at the unfamilia feeling. He paused a little, giving me a moment to adjust, then pushed further. The pain was aching at first, but it slowly began to morph into something much more.

"You're doin' so good," he mumbled. "Good girl."

I blushed as the praise inflated my heart. James moved very slowly, each thrust quite careful, very calculated as he found his way deeper inside of me. The pain began to turn, replaced by a growing pleasure that had me moaning just softly for him, the boy I'd known for years, making me feel so good.

"That's it," James murmured, staring into my eyes as I squinted. "Take me, baby. You're doing so, so good."

I wrapped my legs around his waist while he began to move a bit more confidently. "James," I whined, the tips of my fingers dug into the divets of his shoulder blades.

"Shh," he whispered as he caught my lips in a hushing kiss. "We gotta be quiet."

It was surreal. I could feel the curve of every vein, every dip as he rocked inside of me, finding my sweet spot within seconds and focusing on it.

I nodded, bit my lip to silence my whines as James began to drive faster into me, the room filling with slick and obscene noises.

"James," I gasped, already needing to cum. I knew he could tell by the way I was clamping around him.

"I know," he groaned into my soft neck. "Let go, baby. I've got you."

I came with a keening cry, toes curling as I smushed my face into his shoulder to muffle the sounds tumbling from my lips. James was quick to pull from me, leaving me loose and missing his stretch. He squeezed and pumped his fist on his cock, locking eyes with me for a split second before the inevitable finally happened. He groaned softly, his head drooping to rest against my shoulder.

With a final whine, his hand slowed and I could feel the warm squirts of cum paint my abdomen, dripping down as he milked his final drops.

We sat frozen for a second, our naked bodies sweaty and glistening in the dark room. James gently smiled, motions tender and careful. He lay down beside me, snatching me into his arms.

"Are you okay?" he queried softly, his voice sounding perfect. How could it get any better than this? bathing in the bliss of our post sex euphoria, his voice in my ear and arms around me.

I nodded against his shoulder. "more than okay..."

James smiled, his eyes so warm. "You were amazing," he said, lazily pecking my forehead.

"I should, uh... clean off..." I giggled as we both glanced down at my cum-smothered stomach. James cheeks went a dark pink as he laugh.

"Get up, I'll help you," James smiled, helping me out of bed to assist in cleaning ourselves.

[captain039]

PART 2 Predator grounds (Cooper Howard)

Alpha!Cooper Howard (pre-war)x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB dynamics, vault tech things, forced heats/ruts, eventual smut, age gap, angst? Experiments, needles, drugs, talks of pregnancy, first times, anxiety attacks, anxiety, forced claiming

Previous part <-

Has it even been a day down here? You remember falling in and out of sleep on the edge of the bed, almost falling off at one point. You know the lights went dim twice so far and the music stopped when it did. You wish you could put those damn speakers up the vaults overseers ass if he was even around. Hell the only person you saw was the man bringing the food everyday. His overly cheery voice making you want to reach through the food slot and choke him. You think you’ve used too much water considering you’ve had five showers now, well you weren’t really washing yourself more like sitting on the floor in despair trying to relieve yourself quietly so the alpha outside didn’t hear. He hasn’t said a word, he’s been quietly brooding in the corner for the last few days. You’re worried about him, he always looks tense, you swear he never sleeps and he’s always twitching at every sound he hears. You feel sorry for him, feel sorry that he isn’t with the one person he married even if they did seperate he deserves that familiarity. He wouldn’t be in this harsh rut too, someone to take the ease off. God you’ve imagined too many times about how he could take you in every single inch of this vault room. He’s moved the couch to the corner, pushed the TV out of the way, he moved it while you were in the shower the second time.

You haven’t drawn the curtains back so you can’t see out into the hall way, hell you don’t want to, that couple across from you probably still going at it. You sit on the floor on pillows and a towel reading a crappy book they supplied on the book shelf. You haven’t explored all the shelves and cupboard, hell you probably wouldn’t mind watching a movie but it’s on his side of the room. You’ve never seen Mr Howard like this, so tense and caught up in his head, he’s usually a care free, kind, charcmismic man. Guess being frozen for 200 years will do that to a man. You glance at him hesitantly and gulp a little.

“Mr Howard?” You finally speak and he hums looking to you. His stare makes you falter and you nervously glance at the wall behind him before focusing back on his eyes.

“Are you- are you doing ok? Do you want a book? I think the Video tapes are on the bottom shelf too” you gesture to the light brown shelf filled with books and tape holders.

“I’m ok, sweetheart” he says his lips twitching slightly and you just nod a little saddened. You say against the wall head leaning on the mattress cursing the ache in your lower stomach.

“Room 236” a woman’s voice calls over and you frown.

“You’re not completing your functions!” She says cheerily and you raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah? Go fuck yourself and do it yourself asshole” Cooper yells and you flinch a bit at the tone but smile to yourself.

“If this continues we will seperate you to more appropriate partners! We want to save the America and you can help!” Coopers statement goes ignored and her words make your whole body tense and into a panic. You can’t go to someone else, you can’t be with someone else you’ve never done this, what the hell? They can’t just move you to get impregnated. You don’t want kids, the thought of a baby terrifies you.

“Sweetie look at me” you can hear Coopers voice briefly but your heart is pounding in your ears. He yells your name and you flinch and look at him.

“You’re alright, they’re not gonna take you from this room ok, I promise” he says so sincerely but he can’t control them, can’t control if they do take you, they’re in control here.

The lights dim signalling night time and you’re curled up hiding under the covers like it’d save you. The speakers words scare you to death, this whole situation seems to be dawning on you. Tears roll down your face silently and you suck in a small breath. You don’t hear the footsteps till you feel the bed dip and your heart rate rockets into panic.

“It’s me” Cooper mutters and you let out the breath in a shudder that you were holding.

“I keep my promises you know this” he speaks softly in the darkness and you nod your head despite him not being able to see.

“I know” you croak cursing yourself silently. He always did, he was that kind of man.

“Get some sleep” he mutters after some silence and walks back to his side of the room.

Morning comes, the lights turning on brightly making you wince. You didn’t sleep well at all last night, tossing and turning, fleeting nightmares. Alarms blare and you’re suddenly wide awake and standing up by the bed on wobbly feet. Your door is opening, Cooper is up quickly as well. You see two men in hazard suits and two people behind them with guns. You tense realising they were here to take you away. You see a scared woman being held behind the four people, she’s cuffed and held by two others in hazard suits.

“You aren’t fulfilling your duties in room 236, we are to remove the omega and replace her” his words sound automated and suddenly you’re wrapped up in strong arms.

“You won’t take her” Coopers voice is low, his breathing is coming out almost in a harsh snarl, he’s got one arm across your upper chest the other over your stomach.

“Sir, let the omega go” the people in the hazard suits are unbothered by the smells and tone he’s using.

“You. Won’t. Take. Her” he breathes harshly between each word and you swear he’s a man possessed.

“I’m so sorry” he whispers softly in your ear and suddenly there’s like an electric shock of pleasure going through your body as blunt teeth clamp on your shoulder. You let out a strangled noise as a mating bond clicks into place, you’re flooded by him and feelings making you stagger but not fall in his embrace.

“You won’t take my mate away” he challenges after he stops biting and you’re in a daze. They halt there advances, a mate bond is strong, he won’t touch another omega now. They step back hands up and the door slides shut. You breathe deeply, having held your breath majority of that time as you finally process everything that happened. You place a hand on your neck feeling where he bit and stutter. You hear him apologising feel him move in front of you but you’re in overload right now. You don’t look at him, you turn, grab a chair and head to the bathroom. You force the chair against the door and collapse to the floor in a heap. What just happened?

Next part ->

NOTES:

To continue Wasteland heat I gotta watch the episodes again I think I got like episode five? While writing and then had this idea xD but I’ll continue Wasteland heat after xD

[theoutsiderscomfort]

I may have posted 4 headcanons yesterday and one this morning but the grind never stops.

Ponyboy Curtis Headcanons

He loves reading but he can’t buy his own books often so he borrows them a lot

Two-Bit for sure has stolen one or two for him, probably as a birthday gift

Darry didn’t approve of it but it made Ponyboy happy so he kept it to himself

He is the one kid in his class who actually reads the books instead of skimming the book to find the answers

He never gets rid of gone with the wind and it moves with him wherever he goes. College, his first apartment, his first house. That copy is probably still laying around to this day

He goes to college for literature, I mean are we even surprised here

He becomes a English teacher at school not too far from Tulsa so he can visit his brothers on the weekend

He writes his own book one day about what happened that night. The book being the outsiders (duh)

He writes a few book but the outsiders will always be his favourite because it was a way that people would always remember Johnny and Dally

I’m going to move on to the neurodivergent headcanon otherwise this will turn into angst headcanons

Ponyboy is autistic like Darry but people picked up on it more easily

Soda is the one who picked up on it first and told his parents. Soda may of been 7 but he picked up on it

Reading and movies are his special interests (it’s me. I’m Ponyboy)

Even Darry says in the movie that all Ponyboy concentrates on is movie and books

He has a lot of sensory issues with food which is one of the main traits he shows

Luckily for Darry, most of his safe foods are cheap stuff anyway

Unluckily for Darry, after the fire is when his issues with food becomes worse because everything taste like baloney

It took over a month for Ponyboy to start eating like he used to and the day it happens his brothers are full of relief

Even Two-Bit and Steve are relieved when they come into Pony eating a massive slice of chocolate cake. Steve wouldn’t even care that he stole the last slice

He hates wearing long sleeves most of the time which is why he hardly wears a jacket despite being cold

One last angsty headcanon to finish this off

He visits Johnny and Dally whenever he can. He just sits there quietly or talks about what has happened since he last visited

“Darry met this nice girl. She fits right in with the gang. You guys would of loved her”

I swear with Ponyboy and Darry the autism headcanons just flow out of me

[moonlightspencie]

… Angels Roll Their Eyes

Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, reader gets a minor injury, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: READER’S POV!! this is where the bridge kicks in teehee. (also savannah is more of a minor character at this point, nobody really knows she and derek are together)

Devils Roll the Dice… (click for part 1)

I walked up to the figure illuminated by vending machine lights. His head was down as he looked through the options, not really intending on buying anything at all. I slowed my steps on the approach, just barely catching his attention before I was right next to him.

“Hey,” he said quietly, giving me a soft smile.

I grinned in full, not bothering to hide my feelings. Nobody was around, anyways.

“Hey. You come here often?”

He laughed. “Only this once. Waiting around for this girl who said she’d meet me here.”

“Sounds like she’s into you.”

He nodded. “I think so.”

I grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him closer. He took the advantage to bring me in instead, my back against the hard plastic of the machine’s display. Rather than kissing me then and there, he leaned in, lips unbearably close to my ear.

“I feel like we’re sneaking around past our parents,” he said quietly.

“You never got that ‘teenage dream’ experience. Maybe this is your second chance.”

He smiled. “Maybe.”

His lips pressed to mine, silencing our whispered words for good.

We were far from teenagers at this point, but he was still a dream. I found myself feeling giddy at every turn, completely ignoring the impending doom that loomed over our relationship.

We both knew we weren’t trying hard enough to hide it. Neither of us knew what would happen when it finally came to light.

Until that happened, we’d pretend it wasn’t in the cards at all. Summer love was still sweet, even being far removed from the romanticism of anything resembling the movie-loves I’d grown accustomed to religiously watching. This was somehow better. Maybe because it was more realistic. Probably because it was always more thrilling to live it out.

I smiled into our kiss, feeling his wandering hands trying to get themselves under my legs to lift me up. Sadly, we never got the chance.

We heard footsteps coming down the hall quickly, breaking apart and trying to look as nonchalant as possible as we mindlessly gazed at the snacks inside the machine.

“I’m thinking M&Ms,” I noted, almost laughing.

Spencer hid a smile. He clicked the right buttons right as our visitor reached us. The little package dropped, our secret still somehow concealed from a slightly-confused Aaron Hotchner as he stood behind us waiting for his turn.

“Night,” I said, giving a slight nod.

“Goodnight.”

Spencer followed behind me, hoping it wouldn’t be obvious that he didn’t have some cheap snack of his own in hand as we walked past. I rationalized that he looked too tired to notice, anyways.

We wound up back in my room, giggling with each other like kids at a sleepover. I made him do a face-mask with me while he made me listen to a lecture on how the hyaluronic acid in the formula provided moisture for our skin. I gladly listened with a smile on my face, and he happily accepted a hundred kisses as I wiped his face clean afterwards.

We laid on my bed, mindlessly talking about whatever came to mind. He took my hand in his, running his thumb across the back of my hand in repeated motions as we talked.

“What do you say we stop hiding us?” I asked at last, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve established myself on the team at this point, I think.”

He was quiet for a moment, still running his thumb over my hand.

“I don’t know. I think it’s better that we keep it quiet.”

I paused, taking in his response. I’d hoped that after a while we wouldn’t be hiding anymore. As much fun as it was to sneak around, it could be utterly exhausting. But, if he still wanted to, I’d agree.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” he questioned, turning his head to look at me.

I looked back at him, giving him a small smile and a nod.

“Yeah. If that’s what you want, it’s fine by me.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. I sprung up a moment after, standing at the foot of the bed. I grabbed my phone, clicking around on the screen as he propped himself up to look at me. I held out a hand to him.

“Dance with me, pretty boy,” I sang out, hitting shuffle on one of my playlists.

He quickly obliged, not wasting a second in worrying about whether or not he could actually dance. He knew I’d be there to guide whatever movements he didn’t know how to do yet.

Whispers of ‘are you sure?’

I smiled at him, admiring the way he payed way too much attention to how he moved. I made it a goal to loosen him up. After a minute, he was letting me guide, leaving his body to its own devices. He was really better off for it.

I can see us lost in the memory

We swayed along to the song, silently praying it wasn’t some kind of sick foreshadowing of how our summer would end. I pretended not to care much about the lyrics. He pretended not to listen to most of them.

August sipped away like a bottle of wine

Cause you were never mine

“Do you think that’ll happen to us?” I asked, still smiling past the gravity of the question.

“Of course not,” he answered with finality.

Wanting was enough

For me it was enough

To live for the hope of it all

I took his hands, the both of us spinning around in circles with smiles on our faces that were real and genuine despite a nagging feeling that something might be wrong.

I knew mine had a lot to do with very real feelings I was scared to talk about. I was too afraid to think about what may have filled his head. It was really none of my business, anyways, so I cleared my head of it all. Wanting was enough. I didn’t have to doubt that. It had been enough for two months so far. That had to count for something.

Weeks later and it was August. That lingering question of “will it last” was ever-present in my head. I just kept pushing it down. Fuck compartmentalization. That question was locked in a dungeon, chained to a wall, and I intended on keeping it there until we were either burning to the ground or eloping in Vegas.

Those seemed like the most viable options, anyway. An extremely-attached, yet no-strings kind of situationship could really only go one of two ways.

I almost wanted him to hate me at that point. It would certainly be a thrilling end if he revealed that he never cared about me and was only doing all of this to screw with my head. Almost like he was a spy, trying to uncover whatever boring substance made up my psyche.

I knew that was… Slightly less realistic, though.

I probably shouldn’t have been thinking about it so thoroughly, especially since it was merely theoretical. It would have caused a lot less mental work. It also might have prevented me from being off my game.

I had a habit of being a bit clumsy when we weren’t in life-threatening situations, but messing up while we were on a case? Unbearably embarrassing.

I looked up as my arm hit the wall to stop me from falling over my own two feet, disgusting to find that an exposed nail head had given me quite the scratch. It looked pretty gnarly, and frankly I was thanking my lucky stars I’d already gotten a tetanus booster after my last injury. However, I probably couldn’t go much further with my arm bleeding. Especially if they didn’t necessarily need me. It was one man they were going after, and we didn’t even know if he was in this house.

I voiced to Hotch what had happened, and he told me to leave if I was safe enough to do so. JJ and three officers occupied the house anyways, so I booked it out of there.

I cleaned myself up as well as I could with the first aid kit in the car, planning on doing a better job when I got back to the precinct. The house we were in turned out to be a bust anyways. Our unsub was still in the wind. He clearly hadn’t even been in the house in weeks. It was wildly frustrating.

Until Miss Penelope Garcia called in to save the day as she always did. She let JJ and I know that the others were currently heading across town to an apartment that she was certain housed the unsub and our most recent victim.

“Finally,” I sighed, leaning my head back in the seat.

JJ was quiet, and I looked away from my driving to see her. She smiled at me when I turned my head.

“What?” I questioned with a laugh.

“Can I ask you something?” she inquired, sitting up a little more straight. “It’s a little personal.”

I quirked a brow. “You can ask, but I reserve my right to remain silent.”

She laughed. “Alright. Fair enough. Uh, I’m just wondering about you and a certain team member.”

I swallowed. Uh oh.

“Okay?”

“I’ve just— I’ve heard rumors, and I wanted to ask you directly about them rather than letting the rumor-mill run.”

I nodded slowly. “What have you heard?”

“Word on the street is that you and Morgan used to be an item.”

Oh.

“Ah,” I replied with a chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we were a thing. But that was a while ago, and I’m pretty certain we’ve moved past it.”

“Right, yeah,” she nodded. “You know, he has a secret girlfriend now.”

I smiled, glancing at her. “Really?”

She nodded again. “Yeah. He’s been trying to hide it, but Garcia loves to talk.”

I laughed, thinking of the bubbly, well-meaning woman. She had a hard time with secrets, though she tried her hardest.

“That’s good. He deserves to be happy, he was always a great guy,” I said.

“Just gotta look past all of the mindless flirting and the jock-persona,” JJ noted jokingly.

I hummed in agreement, turning down the road that would lead us to the precinct at last. It was a good thing, too, since my arm was really starting to irritate me now. My discomfort must have been obvious, as JJ looked at me once again.

“You okay?” she questioned. “That cut on your arm looks pretty painful.”

I looked at it, noticing there was some bleed-through on the bandage. I sighed, not looking forward to cleaning it up.

“I’ll live. It just itches pretty bad right now, and it’s fairly sore.”

“I can help you when we’re back at the station. You shouldn’t have to do that alone.”

“Thanks Jayje,” I said, resting a hand on her arm briefly.

She covered my hand with her own, giving me another smile. It felt like she could see through me on occasion. She had quickly become one of my closest friends on the team, which took me a little by surprise. She seemed a little too unironic-girlboss when I first met her, but the second Penelope helped me see her true colors… We were fast friends.

I almost found myself telling her about Spencer and I on multiple occasions, but always ended up thinking better of the idea. That moment was one of the times I almost said something.

Of course, I thought twice about it, but she gave me that look like she knew what I was thinking.

I found an out when we pulled into the precinct, and took up her offer to help me with properly fixing up my arm. We made light conversation as I tried like hell not to focus on the stinging pain that occurred every time she probed at the cut.

We did whatever we could to help after she was finished. At least until the rest of the team showed up. But, to my delight, we rounded out our night by heading home and going straight to the bar.

I didn’t often let myself get well and truly drunk. Especially not when I was around Spencer. I knew I had been staring at him once I downed my sixth shot, but by the third mixed drink he was pulling me out of the bar. He threw out some kind of excuse that he was tired and I needed a ride home.

“What’s up with you?” he asked after bidding a goodnight to everyone else. “You’ve been acting weird, and now you’re getting wasted.”

I was annoyed by the comment, but there was concern in his voice over everything else. I leaned into him as we walked towards my car.

“I just wanted to have some fun, Spencie.”

He sighed, continuing to help me walk until we reached my vehicle.

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, helping me into the backseat of the car.

I slumped over into the seat as he did, just barely letting him put the seatbelt around me and click it into place. He was fairly quiet as he did so, which really only furthered my concern. Even drunk I knew well enough to see that something was off with him. He shut the door, and I let myself drop against the seat, listening as he opened and closed the driver’s side door.

I glanced up, seeing him adjust the mirror to keep an eye on me in the seat rather than the road. It was dangerous and stupid. And so sweet it made my stomach flip.

I let my mind wander as he turned on the radio, thought he kept it low, and started driving. I thought of him and the summer we’d shared thus far. Three months is nothing in the grand scheme of life, but it felt like everything when I was with him. He felt like everything in that time. I hated keeping him a secret so much.

Maybe I shouldn’t have drank so much.

I let out the tears I was holding back, sniffling as the snot starting trying to weasel its way out of my system. If I was going to cry like a baby, I wasn’t going let myself get all gross and grimy. That’s where I drew the line. I’d make sure at least some of my dignity was preserved.

He looked at me in the rear view mirror, brows furrowing.

“Y/N?”

I sniffled.

“Yeah?” I managed, knowing I sounded absolutely pathetic.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft. “Why are you crying?”

I met his eyes as he continually glanced at me in the mirror. I had to have looked ridiculous, laying on the backseat with tears streaming down my face for seemingly no reason.

“I’m fine.”

He deadpanned. “You’re sobbing in the backseat of your own car.”

“I’m fine,” I said again through tears, voice coming out much more whiny than I’d intended.

He said my name as a warning, seeing through my… untruth. I felt more happy calling it that than anything else. I looked at him, admiring his pretty face through the mirror as he looked on at the road ahead. Maybe it was a good idea for him to practically drag me out of the bar. I could be a messy drunk, and I definitely would’ve outed us by wanting to be messy with him in front of the team if I’d drank any more.

Keeping secrets sucked. It was stupid and annoying. Especially when he was so hot.

I whined out loud at the though, squeezing my eyes shut.

“What?” he whined back, a laugh on his lips.

“I’m sick of this.”

“Sick of what, baby?”

I sighed, wiping away tears that kept on rolling.

“Keeping secrets. I don’t want to have to keep hiding this just to keep you.”

He sighed to match mine. “I know.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Honey, we don’t have much of a choice.”

“But I’m going to explode if I can’t kiss you in public anymore.”

“No, you won’t,” he said, looking at me again.

I pouted. “I will.”

“You’re drunk, baby. We’ll get you into bed and you’ll feel better tomorrow.”

“Will you come to bed with me?”

He smiled softly. “Of course.”

I felt the car starting to slow, and though my vision was a little blurry, I saw the green light ahead turn to yellow. I looked at him again, a small smile coming to my tear-soaked face.

“Spencie?”

He hummed in question, not yet looking at me.

“Can I tell you something really stupid?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

I paused for a moment, letting my inebriated state wipe away any inhibitions I may have had otherwise. The car stopped at the light at last. I smiled softly.

“For what it’s worth, I love you,” I mumbled. “And it’s the worst fucking thing you could hear right now.”

I hoped he’d say it back, though part of me expected him to pretend he hadn’t heard me at all.

I definitely didn’t expect him to look at me through the mirror with a devilish smirk.

“I know you do,” he stated. “And it’s not the worst thing I‘ve heard by a long shot.”

I bit my lip to hold back a smile as he pulled away from the light. We ended up back at my apartment, Spencer still helping me stumble the whole way there. I pushed him back against the door as soon as we were inside, but he held my wrists to stop me from feeling him up. I pouted.

“Ow,” I said, pulling my injured arm from him.

“You okay, princess?”

I nodded, quiet. He simply looked at me, certainly not believing me.

“Why are you doing that?” I questioned.

His eyes widened. “W-why am I stopping you?”

I nodded silently, still pouting.

“Baby— You’re drunk. I’m not doing anything with you while you’re drunk.”

I dropped my hands, whining as I leaned my full body into his. He wrapped his arms around me, walking— more so waddling— with me until we reached my couch.

“I just wanna kiss you,” I grumbled into his chest, letting him drop me onto the cushions.

I stared up at him, trying to look alluring. I probably just looked a little out of my mind.

“I love kissing you, but not while you’re so drunk you can’t even stand up by yourself without almost tipping over,” he said, smiling softly as he crouched between my legs.

He leaned up, softly kissing my forehead. He kept my face in his hands, looking at me. He let one hand drop, running it across my arm. I pulled back again, feeling the discomfort in my arm from my earlier injury.

He furrowed his brow, looking down at my arm as it was covered by my sleeve.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “I’m fine.”

“You pulled away twice when I touched your arm.”

“It’s okay.”

He sighed, grabbing my arm and gently moving my sleeve up over the bandage. He let out a sharp breath.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he asked, trying not to be annoyed with my concealment. “When did you get hurt?”

I deflated. “Today.”

“How?”

“I got cut. Fell into a nail in the wall.”

He ran a hand over his face. “You should’ve told me.”

“Why?”

He glanced up, furrowing his brow. He was clearly annoyed with me, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel terribly about it.

“Because I want to know when you’re hurt.”

I swallowed. Okay, that made me feel a little guilty.

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is. That’s a pretty big bandage.”

I was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s my job to worry about you.”

“No, it isn’t.”

He quirked a brow. “Why not?”

“We aren’t even like… A real couple,” I said, closing my eyes. “All we do is sneak around and you don’t ever want to tell anyone and I just don’t think that we can keep acting like it’s gonna last forever if we can’t even tell friends about—”

“It’s not my fault you dated Derek first,” he said, cutting me off.

I scoffed. “He doesn’t even care. That was forever ago and he has his secret girlfriend now anyways.”

“You wanted to keep this secret in the first place.”

“Well I’m sick of it,” I yelled. “I’m sick of keeping secrets and I’m sick of you not caring that I’m in love with you.”

“Not caring?” he asked, voice raising as he leaned back on his knees.

“You didn’t even say it back when I said it.”

“Because you’re drunk! How am I supposed to know if you even mean it?”

“Because I do!”

I groaned, my head dropping back against the cushions. My buzz was starting to wane, and I wished it would hold on a little longer.

“You were crying in the backseat. We said we’d talk about this tomorrow when you were sobered up. Why don’t we stick to that plan?” he said after a moment.

“Why can’t you just tell me how you actually feel about me?”

“I don’t want to say something and have you not remember it.”

“You’re so annoying,” I grumbled.

He rolled his eyes, standing abruptly. I readied myself for him to leave. I knew I was being childish, but I was tired of keeping everything bottled up. I wouldn’t blame him for dropping me then and there.

But, he reached out a hand.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

I looked up at him curiously, not yet taking his hand.

“You’re staying?”

He nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to leave you like this.”

I reached out, letting him help me up. We walked to my room, quietly undressing. I climbed into bed, watching him as he finally tugged off his pants, leaving him in just his undershirt and boxers. He shut my door, turned off the lights, and got under the covers with me.

He reached out for me under the sheets, tugging me against him. I sighed, resting my hand over his arm.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s okay. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I woke up to a horrible headache, and a nauseous feeling that I was convinced would probably never ever go away. I was 100% certain I would never drink again ever in my life. It was a set rule that I made very quickly.

“How are you feeling?” Spencer asked.

My next rule was that nobody was ever allowed to speak to me again.

I broke it immediately.

“Like crap.”

“Here,” he said, a stupid smile in his voice from the one word.

I opened my eyes to see him offering me a couple of little pills and a glass of water. I took them, grateful, even though I wanted to tell him to leave me alone in the dark for the next few months. Thankfully, he let me lay in his arms until the medication kicked in and took the edge off of my stupid hangover. I was at least thankful we didn’t have work that day.

My head was buried in his chest when I felt his lips against the top of my head. He rubbed my back, coaxing me back to the real world. Unfortunately I’d been a mess in the real world the night prior and did not want to deal with the aftermath.

“Baby,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”

“Mhm,” I hummed, leaning back a little. Just enough to see him. “Medicine helped.”

“Good,” he smiled. “I was a little worried. You drank a lot more than you usually do last night.”

“I know. I was a mess.”

He smirked. “A little bit.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, brushing hair out of his face. “I’m sorry we argued.”

He was quiet for a second, then perked up a little when his phone dinged.

“You hungry?”

“I really don’t want to go out, love.”

He laughed softly. “I know. I ordered in while you were laying down.”

“You’re a dream, Spencer Reid.”

We tumbled out of bed, Spencer insisting on preparing everything after he thanked the delivery person at the door. He made me sit at the table and wait for him, not allowing me to do anything at all until all of the food was laid out. He delighted in it.

“There,” he said, setting down our drink at last as he sat next to me. “And you tried saying I didn’t love you.”

My eyes widened, not expecting him to say anything, but especially not like that. He looked at me.

“What?” he questioned.

“That’s how you’re going to tell me?” I asked with a laugh.

“I thought you knew anyways,” he shrugged. “I do love you, you know?”

I felt heat in my cheeks at that, a smile on my face that I couldn’t control. He smiled right back at me, pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.

“Do you really think we’ll last past summer?” I asked, hoping he was feeling honest.

He sighed, the smallest grin on his face.

“It’d be a cruel end if we didn’t.”

[forestdeath1]

I see many Snape Stans (I dislike Snape but I see why he turned out the way he did) saying James sexually assaulted him, especially on TikTok, when it’s not the truth at all, we don’t know if he ever actually took off his pants because and it wasn’t his fault that Snape wasn’t wearing any trousers. While he did bully him he never sexually assaulted him, and so many people are now saying this and I’m just flabbergasted, why did no one read the books? Why does everyone get their informations off TikTok and Twitter?

I don't really like this topic, to be honest. But here's how I perceive it.

1. In the canon, as far as I remember, it wasn't even implied that wizards wore trousers under their robes. They all just wore their underwear. And Lupin says:

"Oh, that one had a great vogue during my time at Hogwarts," said Lupin reminiscently. "There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle."

"Yes," he said, "but he wasn't the only one. As I say, it was very popular. . . . You know how these spells come and go. . . ."

So Snape not only created this spell himself, but it also became popular at school. So many students were hanging upside down, showing off their underwear.

From this, we can infer that wizards perceived it slightly differently than we do now, and even than Harry. It was "fun" bullying, but nothing more. Even Lupin himself sounds like he's justifying it, although he probably got hung upside down too ("There were a few months in my fifth year when you couldn’t move for being hoisted into the air by your ankle.").

2. We don't know for sure if James ended up taking Snape's pants off. Logically speaking, JKR simply didn't describe it, assuming that he did. Given the time the book was written, she probably didn't intend to invest it with such a horrible meaning. This all happens in the 70s in the WW. For our time, of course, it's SA. And that's awful. But the perception of that time could leave its mark. For example, when I was in school, many things that are now considered "awful" were seen as "not so bad". Those who did those awful things back then didn't even really understand how awful their actions truly were. Society evolves and we increasingly respect people's personal psychological and physical boundaries. What we didn't perceive as SA back then is considered SA today. A simple example you've probably seen in movies, spanking children was considered normal and right. That's how society raised those people. Surely today those same people wouldn't spank their children, because they would understand it's bad.

So it's likely that nobody at school perceived this action as SA. Moreover, James always played to the crowd. And if he really, according to the author's intention, took Snape's pants off, and the whole school saw it as normal, and didn't start looking at James with disgust... it raises big questions for the school students, doesn't it? If my friend did this today, he wouldn't be my friend anymore. Most people would look at such a person with disgust. But James's popularity didn't diminish at all.

This brings us back to the fact that nobody back then saw it as worse than bullying. So the society of that time hadn't yet formed enough understanding of what SA was and how bad it was to expose someone else's genitals. So James didn't fully understand either how awful it was, much more awful than pink bubbles out of your mouth or doubling someone's head in size. So for them it was all on the same level — taking someone's pants off or making them hang upside down or doubling their head in size.

I'm not justifying it, but the wizarding world is pretty harsh. Neville was thrown out of a window, Harry almost killed Draco, Fred and George literally made a kid disappear for a week, and Hermione kept Rita Skeeter captive in a jar for over a month. All of this is awful, but the wizarding world operates by different moral standards.

If judged in terms of our morality, there are almost no morally pure characters in these books.

I especially don't understand Snape stans (I mean I like Snape, but I don’t understand their logic). In terms of our morality, both Snape and James deserve to be punished. Snape would have got a much bigger sentence for joining and helping a terrorist organisation. What are Snape stans trying to prove? That Snape was better? No, he wasn't. They're all arseholes in terms of the muggle world of 2024.

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter seven: just get me through the night | read chapter six

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.8k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

Steph believes you when you tell her you tripped and hurt your wrist.

After all, it’s not exactly a lie. That is what happened. It just… happened to occur while you were being advanced upon by, you know, the Batman.

You don’t tell her that last part. It’ll just worry her, you think, and she was worried enough about you that following day, when you told her about how your shift was cut short and how you hurt yourself. She fretted about you coming back to your shitty apartment in Coventry on your own but you made up a lie about catching a taxi. 

(Technically, in a way, you suppose it could’ve been the truth but you don’t imagine Red would appreciate Redbird being referred to as a taxi service; though, at the same time, he drives like a literal maniac, so, it doesn’t fit.

And yes, he did name his car.

And yes, it is actually named Redbird.

He claims he gets around by motorcycle more these days but that obviously wasn’t conducive with the weather, so he used the car instead. A very high-tech, ultra-expensive car that you had to wonder how the hell he managed to get. He’s your age, after all. But you refrained from asking. It’s impolite, considering everything he did for you.)

After Steph’s shift, you both head to her mom’s house, where Crystal Brown, a nurse at West Mercy, generously takes a look at your wrist, as equally as concerned as her daughter when she hears the story. 

“It’s just a sprain,” she says, frowning. “I can’t be entirely certain without an X-ray but I don’t think anything is broken or fractured. No need for a brace, either, but if it keeps bothering you…”

“I’ll get it checked out,” you agree easily. “Thank you, Ms. Brown.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? Just call me Crystal.” 

“You know how she is, Mom,” Steph sighs, folding her arms over the back of the chair you’re in, dropping her chin to your head. 

“As hard-headed as you? Oh, I know.”

You smile bashfully as Steph snickers. Crystal rises from the table, stepping back to the stove, where she has dinner cooking. At their insistence, you agreed to spend the night. 

Crystal has always been kind to you. Both this summer and the previous one did she tell you you were welcome to live with her and Steph here at their shared home, since neither of you could live in the dorms unless you took classes during the summer. Steph abstained from them to get more experience and you abstained because your financial aid wouldn’t cover it, which left you grappling with a three-month lease at the shitty student apartments near GU. 

“No Tim?” Crystal asks, covering the pan, turning to look at you two.

Steph clicks her tongue, pulling away from you to flop into the chair beside yours; underneath the table, her ankle curls beneath yours, shin pressed to your calf. 

“Busy as usual.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“It’s not that big of a deal—” at the looks you get from both of them, you quickly backtrack “—I mean, I’ll tell him later… That new Mission Impossible movie came out a few weeks ago, so I was gonna see if we could watch it together…”

Crystal frowns. “But you don’t like those movies. Does Tim like those ridiculous movies?”

She probably wouldn’t be displeased if he did. Crystal isn’t overly fond of Tim. Steph says it’s because of their relationship when they were kids but sometimes, it feels far too deep for it to be just that. 

Still, she’s civil to him and he rarely says no when Steph invites him (and you) for dinner. If anything, you think Crystal doesn’t mind the opportunity to make him squirm. Steph probably doesn’t mind it, either. 

Steph stretches her arms above her head. “It would be on par with him but no. These two just like watching them and making fun of them. I’m good, though.” 

“I’ll tell him, then. He’d notice it, anyway, since my mobility is still limited, but yeah…”

“Well, be careful,” she says, mouth pursed. For some reason, it doesn’t feel like she’s talking about your wrist but about something else. 

Steph coughs. Crystal looks back to the stove. 

“Well, hopefully you two will see him soon. From what I’ve heard, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you say heavily. “A while.”

Crystal doesn’t pay more attention as she focuses on the sizzle of the chicken breast but Steph does, giving you a lingering look that makes you look away. 

You… try not to give away too much to her. 

You feel horrible enough to be in love with her ex-boyfriend; pining after him in her presence is just the icing on the World’s Worst Best Friend cake. 

That’s why you avoided him, after realizing the culmination of your feelings in May. 

To see if you could shake the feelings, if you could get rid of them.

Considering how hung up you are on him still, it hasn’t worked. 

But you still want to see him again. It’s selfish, probably, to be okay with avoiding him for your own gain and then when he does it on purpose, you want to put an end to it. 

But you know now it wasn’t okay. 

You want to see Tim, want to hear his bad science puns, you just want him around. 

Your feelings won’t go away for a while but avoiding him was the wrong decision. You just have to handle it on your own like an adult. 

You would if you could see him more.

You hope you can. Even if it kills you to act normally, to be okay with being friends. By this point, you’ve started to realize having him in any capacity is more than enough.

It has to be.

newest mission impossible movie came out… i can’t believe they’ve managed five of them and this one is only part one of the fifth one. they need to put that series down already

anyway :D in that case, was wondering if we could see it together? on sunday? i’ll get the tix and you get the snacks? we can get ice cream after and talk shit about it

i can’t, sorry! family dinner on sunday, then some other stuff before then and on sat too. see it and let me know about it, alright? :)

You cry when the end credits start rolling.

Not because the movie is good or moving or even so bad that it makes you cry, you’re just…

So tired. 

Tired of him never having time for you, for you and Steph. 

One part of you wants to give up. What’s the point, right? 

His continued lack of time means you can’t even apologize to him, can’t even ask if your initial avoidance was what led to his in the first place. 

Mostly because it feels like it doesn’t even matter at this point. 

Maybe this is what you deserve and there should be nothing else to say on the matter. 

But that hurts even more. 

You sit far at the back—shitty seats, he would say—but it gives you the privacy to shed a few tears. 

You leave only when the end credits are almost done rolling and the theater is empty. You don’t care about the looks people give you, coming out red-eyed and sniffling from the Mission Impossible movie. You just want to go back to your apartment and hide away for the rest of the summer. 

You emerge from the cinema; it’s only eight, so the sun is still out, warming you up from the chilly theater. Sighing, you start for the nearest station to take the subway back to Coventry.

You only get a couple blocks before your eyes catch the storefront of an ice cream parlor. Wallowing deep in self-pity by now, you easily take the detour. The patio in front of it is busy with people and through the large glass window, you see the line inside is long, too. But since you have nothing else to do, you head for it, anyway.

You’re halfway across the patio when you see it.

Through the window, in line for ice cream, is Tim. 

Your eyes found him immediately, without intention or purpose. Poetic, almost, were it not for the fact of seeing him here breaks your heart.

Here, not just by himself but with friends. Friends you’ve never met but know of from pictures at his place. 

You try to rationalize it initially, still standing there in the middle of the patio, staring into the parlor. Maybe the dinner was canceled. Maybe they dragged him out. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

But then it makes you feel second best. Second choice. That he didn’t think of you when his schedule freed up. 

That’s presumptuous, though, right? What gives you priority? Nothing, especially after what you pulled before. 

But the ache in your chest hardly allows for that much introspection or self-awareness.

Mostly… Mostly, you’re just hurt. 

Seeing him now, separated from you by thin glass, the yawning monster inside you that longs desperately for him is unleashed, because he is so close but he’s not here with you, for you. And that hurts. A physical thing, your chest tight, throat thick with growing emotion.

But then, he sees you. 

His head turns and you go rigid as your eyes meet his, which widen as he recognizes you.

It’s been long, so terribly long, since you’ve seen him. See the soft blue of his eyes, this lovely shade, like cornflowers. 

It makes this so much worse because you don’t think anything will change, even with this, so it’s like a taunt to see him, knowing this might be the last for a while. A long while. 

Another moment between you two, the surprise on his face morphing into something else and you look away before you can see what it is, turning on your heel.

You have to get out of here. 

The subway is across the street but the light just turned green. Too long.

The hiss of hydraulics snatches your attention. A bus, several feet away. One last person climbing on. You take off for it, scrambling for your wallet, ignoring how the rough motions make your wrist throb in protest.

You think you hear your name. You hope you don’t.

You barely wedge yourself in just as the doors close.

The bus driver eyes you with thinly-veiled suspicion but you pay the fare and take a seat at the far back, away from the windows.

You don’t even know where this bus is going. 

You don’t care.

You just have to get away. 

You bury your face in your hands, your tears flowing again as the bus pulls away from the curb.

The worst part about it, you think, is that he doesn’t reach out to you.

Neither does Steph, but you reason expecting that is irrational. Why would he talk to her? Why would he tell her what happened? 

You can’t do it, either. It’s for the best, maybe, that you don’t say anything about it at all. 

Instead, as soon as you get back into your apartment, you collapse onto your threadbare couch and take a nap. Only dragging yourself off it when you have to get up and get ready for your shift, accompanied with the headache throbbing in the center of your forehead. 

You trade off with the evening shift and things are quiet for the most part. To distract yourself (mostly to stop yourself from bursting into tears if you think too hard about what happened), you take on your night shift tasks with renewed vigor. Cleaning the floors, the machines, adjusting displays, doing inventory. 

Your wrist protests throughout it but you ignore it. 

Steph would scold you for it. 

So would Tim.

You pause in the middle of cleaning the counter near the Slurpee machine. Your wrist throbs at your side.

The sharp gust of wind and the sound of your name surprises you.

Shocks you, really, since you’re still a bit on edge from Batman’s visit last week and you yelp, turning around, throwing the wet cloth on instinct. 

Your visitor dodges it easily. It lands on the floor with a wet splat.

“Flash? What are you—what—?”

He tilts his head, grass-green eyes narrowing slightly, mouth pursing, and you get the unmistakable feeling of being scrutinized very closely.

“What are you doing here, Flash?” you question. 

He keeps making that face. “I wanted to see you.”

That surprises you. You blink. 

“Batman won’t like that.”

“Don’t care. I’m not here to cause trouble. Just here to see you. He can’t say anything.”

You don’t think that’ll stop him but you don’t say anything. Flash probably knows. He just doesn’t care. He’ll complain about it sometimes, go to lengths to avoid it, but other times, he just—doesn’t care. 

Flash continues to look at you. Scrutinizing you. 

You don’t bother trying to stop him from doing it. You’re too tired and the way your eyes are still red and swollen is telling, as well as the circles under your eyes. 

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Flash.”

His frown deepens and one of his hands comes to your shoulders. 

“Seriously… are you okay, kid?”

For some reason, that does it.

The smallest of splinters to your resolve first, your breath hitching, then it breaks entirely, emotion swelling inside you with tidal wave force, your vision blurring with tears.

Flash reels back in surprise at first, then softens, muttering, “Aw, kid,” and pulling you into a hug. 

It doesn’t feel perfunctory. Like he is doing this out of obligation at seeing you cry, like this is just another one of his duties as a superhero. It feels genuine, the way he holds you tightly against his chest, like you’re a child being comforted. 

That just makes you cry harder.

It takes a while for you to calm down. Then you get embarrassed, sniffling out an apology. 

He hands you a napkin, then pokes you affectionately on the forehead. 

“Geez, what do you take me for? I don’t mind. Besides, worse bodily fluids have ended up on me. Way worse. This is nothing.”

You laugh wetly. 

He squeezes your shoulder. “Seriously, though. Seems like you’ve got some stuff to talk about. What’s going on?”

You squeeze your eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears briefly takes hold of you. You take a deep breath, working through it, blowing your nose. 

Flash grabs two Slurpees, one cherry and one blue raspberry, and hops up on the counter, patting the spot beside him. You manage to wriggle up using just your right hand, your left still throbbing.

With plenty of breaks in between to cry a little bit more, you tell him everything that has gone on for the past month. Including the stuff with Red and the others, then your impromptu visit from Batman last week. 

“That how you hurt your wrist?” he asks, thoroughly displeased as he reaches for it with gentle fingers. It’s more swollen than before, irritated from you ignoring your body’s warnings, warm to the touch. 

“It wasn’t him,” you mumble. “Just me. I tripped and fell.”

He purses his lips but nods for you to continue, which you do, telling him about everything that happened today. 

“It just sucks,” you whisper. “I mean, what I’m doing to Steph, first of all, by feeling like that and then with the stuff going on with Tim. I know I shouldn’t have avoided him earlier because of my own feelings and maybe this is what I deserve for it but…”

He shakes his head, seemingly bothered by all of this. Really bothered. You expected some, along with the concern, but all of that seems tripled for a reason you do not know.

He says your name, solemn. “You don’t deserve any of that. Sure, it was stupid but… you still don’t deserve that.”

“I can’t change it,” you sigh, setting your cup down. Your fingers are numb from the cold of it. “I just… I dunno. Had to get it out, I guess, so thanks. Why did you really come here, though?”

He sips his Slurpee. “I really came here for you. I just had this feeling… I don’t know. But it paid off, didn’t it?”

“True,” you admit.

“You want me to talk some sense into this kid?”

“Absolutely not.”

“I don’t know,” he muses, his thoughtful tone bellying the tension that seems to permanently reside in his body now; he’s really annoyed by it. You’re touched, if not a bit confused at the depth of his feelings. “I think I should. Might be good.”

“It’s not totally Tim’s fault—”

“His reaction is his own entirely. You shouldn’t have done what you did but anyone with any amount of common sense would talk to you about it instead of turning around and avoiding you, too. It’s dumb. Don’t let him off the hook.”

“Don’t let me off the hook.”

“I’m not. But from where I’m standing, his offenses greatly outweigh yours, especially with what seemed to happen today and… everything else.”

“Flash…”

“I’m just saying. I am, admittedly, a bit biased but… still. I’m not wrong, am I?”

You sigh. “I guess not.”

“Exactly. And for that stuff with your other friend… she hasn’t said anything about it, has she? I mean, I told you what it’s like for me and Pipes. We don’t feel like that for each other anymore. If I had some friend who turned out to like him, I wouldn’t care. So, what makes you think Stephanie does?”

You throw up your hands. “Most people would! Flash, not everyone takes that approach to their exes.”

“True,” he concedes. “But they’re clearly still friends and just friends.”

“But that doesn’t mean she’s okay with that. That doesn’t mean it’s okay. I shouldn’t… it never should have happened.”

Flash sighs, watching you for a minute. “This is a mess, isn’t it?”

You laugh humorlessly. “You’re just now getting that?”

“I knew before but this is… a mess of epic proportions. Seriously…” he mutters the last part, shaking his head slightly. 

Before you can respond, the door opens. You can’t see it, the aisle hiding it, but Flash can; since he remains calm, you assume it isn’t anyone bad.

Then you hear your name, from a very familiar voice and—

“Steph?”

She appears around the aisle, her jean shorts and lilac purple t-shirt wrinkled and in a state of disarray, her hair equally as messy, frizzed from the humidity outside; a light sheen of sweat shines on her face. It’s like she rushed all the way over here. 

You hop down from the counter, concerned. “Steph, what are you doing here? Is everything okay? What happened?”

She lifts a hand, cobalt blue eyes on Flash, saying, distractedly, “No, it’s… it’s alright, nothing’s wrong, I just… had to talk to you… Am I interrupting something?”

“Nope,” Flash says breezily, hoping from the counter. “You can talk to her. I was just visiting.”

“Wait—” you don’t want him to leave quite yet but you don’t know how to say that.

“I’ll hang around,” he assures you, tossing your empty Slurpee cups in your next blink; the only indication he did anything is the way they disappear and the breeze that hits you and Steph.

“Batman—”

“Don’t care. If anything, I might like to talk to him.”

“Flash,” you say, nervous, not willing to reveal what happened to Steph but also trying to tell him to very much not do that.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he says, lifting a shoulder. “But I’ll be around. I’ll come back in a few.”

He lifts a hand, then he is gone, the breeze following him much stronger this time.

“I guess you two really are friends,” Steph says when it calms, sending you a small smile, making you relax.

“Yeah…” Though friends didn’t quite cut it for you. Silly, probably, considering you don’t even know who he is under the cowl, but you can’t deny it to yourself. It’s hard to quantify exactly what he means to you—a friend, a big brother, some kind of weird uncle. If anything, it feels like an odd amalgamation of all those things. You wonder if that’s how he feels, too. You won’t ask. You can only handle so much disappointment in one night.

“I’m sorry to come by so suddenly,” she says next, her words oddly formal in a way that puts you on edge. “But I just had to talk to you.”

“About…?”

“About Tim.”

You go stiff. You try your best to school your expression, to not give anything away. After all, concerning him, it could be anything. What happened today, maybe. What’s been happening. 

Or your feelings.

You really hope it’s not that. 

You’ve only just started to realize you might be losing Tim. You can’t lose her. 

You can’t.

“What about him?”

She says your name. Everything inside you tightens. 

“I know. I know how you feel about him—”

Your throat aches when you swallow. Everything seems to come bursting out of you in the next second. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Steph, I didn’t mean—I didn’t want—I wouldn’t do anything—” you take a step back, your heart squeezing painfully in your chest.

Her eyes widen and she steps forward, quickly closing the space between you, her hands coming to cradle your face.

“No, no, no, it’s okay, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not, I never should’ve—god, I’m so sorry, Steph—” your vision blurs with tears. 

She says your name again, keeping you in her grasp. 

“I’ve known for a long time,” she quickly says. “Okay? I knew, but it’s okay. I was never mad at you, never, it’s okay, I promise.”

“But—but—”

She shushes you gently. “It’s okay. Deep breaths, alright?”

A couple tears trace down your cheeks. She wipes them away, a small smile forming on her lips—for you, entirely for you, the warmth there reflected in her eyes. 

“Do you want to know a secret?” she asks, rubbing her thumb over your cheek. “It’s really easy to fall in love with Tim Drake. And this isn’t my roundabout way of telling you I have feelings for him. Those are long gone. I love him and he’ll always be my first love but that time has passed—for the both of us. But for you guys?”

“Stephie…”

“I don’t care that you have feelings for him. I really truly don’t. I just want you to be happy. I want you both to be happy. I think you two can do that for each other.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. I think… you’re good for him. He’s good for you. That’s all there is to it, okay? If you really want my blessing, you have it, but… it doesn’t matter to me that you like him. And I’ve known for a while but I just… I assumed you knew I was okay with it. Like it was the thing that was there but we never talked about. Stupid, I know. But… I just need you to know that. Alright?”

She hugs you. You bury your face in her shoulder, hugging her back just as tightly, unable to stop your tears from flowing. 

“I’m not just saying this to try and be the bigger person, either,” she murmurs. “Go for it. It’s been long enough.”

“I don’t know…”

“Why?”

“I mean, he doesn’t… and today…”

Steph pulls away, frowning now. “He likes you, too.”

“No—”

“He does. I know.”

“Then why has he…” You can’t keep going, biting your lip.

“‘Cause he’s an idiot,” she mutters. “In more ways than one. But… I’m going to fix it, okay?”

“No, no, don’t—”

“It’s okay. There’s… there’s other stuff going on right now and we need to take care of that first, then you can talk about your feelings. But I’m going to fix it, okay? I’m going to try.”

“You don’t have to, this is our mess, my mess, I was the one who started avoiding him in May after finally realizing my feelings and then he…” you trail off, sniffling. 

“There’s something else,” she says cryptically. “That’s… just take my word for it. But I’m going to fix it. He’s been an idiot long enough and I’m not going to keep tolerating it, not if he’s going to keep hurting you.”

You shake your head, confused. Is she talking about today? Did he tell her? You have no idea…

“He only did it because I did.”

“No, no, it’s… it’s complicated, okay?”

You snort despite yourself. “You think?”

She smiles finally. “I know. It’s… a lot. But don’t worry. I’m going to get him to see the light. Not literally, though I wouldn’t mind roughing him up a bit just for how idiotically he’s been acting but… another time.”

You’re still confused. Terribly, terribly confused. But Steph is so impassioned, so sure, you let it go.

“Let me help,” you say. “I should be the one doing this but—but let me help. I need to. It’s my mess, too.” 

“It’s all of us,” she sighs. “And right now, I’m in a unique position. So… let me, okay? Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell you more later, but hopefully, I can get something together soon. Just sit tight, alright?”

“You do too much for me,” you whisper.

“I’m doing what I should be doing,” she says, looking… guilty almost before the look is gone. “This has gone on long enough.”

She leans forward to kiss your forehead. “But it’s gonna be okay. We’ll make it better.”

You just nod, going along with it for now. 

You scrape yourself together after a few minutes, wiping your tears away and blowing your nose. Steph hangs around long enough for Flash to return, at which point she bids you a regretful goodbye, telling you she’ll talk to you tomorrow. You worry about her getting home but she brought her car, or so she tells you, and Flash generously sees her out.

After a couple minutes, he returns. 

“So?” he asks expectantly.

“You were right,” you mutter. “She’s fine with it. I’m not entirely sure why she had to rush out to tell me or what she’s planning to fix but… I don’t think I can stop her.”

“No, I don’t think so, either,” he agrees lightly. “I don’t think you should, either. It’s probably important.”

“I guess,” you sigh. “I still don’t think she should be doing it but…”

“There might be more pieces in play than you think.”

You send him a look. “I got enough cryptic talk from her. I don’t want any more from you.”

He holds up his hands, smiling. “No more cryptic talk. Got it. I do, however, come bearing gifts.”

“Where on earth—?”

“Well, I already had them when I came here. I wanted to check on you and give you this stuff, but we got interrupted,” he says. “Give me a second.”

You give him a second. 

He leaves and comes back in that time. You raise an eyebrow. 

“Check it out,” he says, holding out a box.

You take it from him. It’s a small thing, easily held in your hand. You pull off the top. 

And promptly blink as the shiny display of a phone greets you.

“Flash, what—”

He can’t wait for you to finish asking your question, apparently too eager to tell you.

“It’s a phone, for you. But it’s programmed with my contact info, that way you can talk to me, and you can move all the stuff on your old phone over, too. It really is just a regular phone. Well, it does have League-level encryptions on it, but you know.”

“Flash… this is too much.”

“Not really,” he says. “I couldn’t give you that info without making sure your phone was secure and it would’ve been a lot more work to get yours secured, too. Besides, let’s be real, your phone has seen much better days. I think it deserves to finally be able to rest.”

“Jerk,” you laugh.

He shrugs. “Not wrong, though. Anyway, it’s not just for emergencies. You can talk to me. Text me. You know.”

“Flash,” you say, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, pressing a hand to your face. 

He looks like he wants to say something else but stops himself last minute and just gives you a small smile. 

“Come on. Let’s set it up.”

You agree, not wanting to continue to refuse since it would be rude and… you do want to have a way to talk to him. Not just for emergencies but other stuff, too. This stuff.

So much is still up in the air. 

But you can focus on the here and now, with Flash here to ease your burdens.

reblogs are appreciated!

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[yowyowyaoi]

Itachi’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Konan

Nobody eats until you come out and eat with us 😤

Thank you! You’re the only one who even noticed 💙

You need to do a better job of hiding that kitten lol  it pushed open your door and walked down the hallway again

Of course! You know where I keep it you don’t even have to ask 😊

I know I’ve spoken to Nagato about them he’ll handle it

You have GOT to come try this new massage chair I got it’s heaven 😌

From Deidara

Come on I was just kidding!!

Please call him off if he bites off my hand again Sasori said he won’t replace it 😔

Sharingan is not art it’s dirty cheating 

The counter is covered with plates of eggs, did you do that weird sleepwalking thing again?!

Me and Hidan and maybe Tobi. Come on take the stick out of your ass and just come with us!

I’ll paint them if you braid my hair first.

Why do you always blame me?? Hidan probably took it!

Omfg I SWEAR I meant that for Sasori!! 😳 Please please don’t show Kisame he’ll kill me 😫

From Zetsu

He’s just so emotional is that an Uchiha trait?

I can literally smell your exhaustion you need to go and rest

Yeah very cute. Be a shame if someone ate it ���

He was doing fine. Got a lot taller. Looks a lot like you in the face.

No I’m glad you made him leave that dude freaked even ME out 😵‍💫

From “Tobi” aka Obito

Can I borrow your face cream? This mask makes my skin itch like crazy!

God stop it man are you TRYING to speed up going blind?!

Would he take your last name or would you take his? 🤔

No. Never. They think I’m a dumbass, remember?

Little more time in the sun would probably help 🤷🏻‍♂️

“Crushes” are for little kids. And anyway he hates me 😔

I thought about that yeah. Reminded me of your mom’s. She always made the best ones.

I’m not sure of anything kid. But we’re in it too far to back out.

Idk you just looked super pale

Ask Sasori to make you more, they’re helping a little 

Idc what Zetsu says. I can do a lotta shit but cannibalism isn’t one of them 🤢

You think I didn’t see you sneak in that pie? Either share or I’m telling Kisame.

From Nagato

Come and join Konan and I for tea. We’ve got a new blend we think you’ll like.

Permission granted. Just be back within three days, I’ll be sending you two on a mission then.

Thank you for the tips. My eyes feel much better now.

Take your time reading it. When you finish I’d love to discuss some of the themes with you.

I know you dislike meat but perhaps a bit more protein might help improve your stamina.

I don’t mind but do not let Kakuzu see it.

From Hidan

Movies with me and blondie?

Yeah but he’s half-animal right? Still counts, pervert.

PLEASE make the splinters in the ass joke PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU😭😭😭

If I didn’t take a piece you would have ate the whole fucking thing yourself and your stomach would burst. You’re welcome 😊

No that was definitely Deidara’s gay ass

Mask boy’s looking for you

Oh right like Kisame wouldn’t beat my ass for that 🙄 Nice try asshole

God damn it’s 3am when the FUCK do you sleep?!

We’re not “plotting” anything just come with ffs 🤦‍♂️

It was an accident and I didn’t even look that long don’t tell her she’ll slice me up with that sharp-ass paper 😖

From Kakuzu

You always being on time with your rent is most appreciated.

To be honest I don’t really know. But at this point I’m too far into my feelings for him so this is my life now. 

Getting enough sleep is important. Nagato agrees that a new mattress would be in your best interests. No arguments.

I’ve ripped off his leg and made it clear it won’t be returned until he returns your property to you.

I’ll consult with Sasori and get back to you.

Konan is insisting everyone text you to come down to eat. It’s my turn. Be advised that continued delay will result in one or more of us coming and retrieving you by force.

From Sasori

Please inform me right away if you notice any adverse side effects. I may need to change the medication or adjust the dosage.

Oh, thank you for reminding me. I wouldn’t want a repeat of last year. What sort of gift do you think I should give him?

You’re more than welcome to anytime. You know I don’t sleep.

Finding the correct body is the most difficult part. All that follows is merely routine.

He can be very sensitive. I’m still learning to decipher and appropriately react to his emotions.

May I borrow that book when you’ve finished it?

Heh. That’s actually very funny.

Try not to overdo it. Your chakra levels still haven’t recovered from the last time.

You may want to hurry back. Zetsu has been circling outside your door like an animal and trying to sniff under it. That lock may not hold.

From Kisame

You remembered your meds today right?

Did you eat?

Yeah? I bet I could work out that tension 😏

Cake is not acceptable for every meal, Itachi.

I got a new blanket, very soft. Come test it out with me 💙

I’ll talk to him about it don’t worry.

For God’s sake just TAKE A NAP!

Have fun but watch your back, I don’t trust those two.

Pretty warm out tonight. Midnight swim later? 😏

You left your necklace on my dresser

Leave it there. You’ve already got one illicit pet you don’t need a second.

I’m cooking, you’re eating. No objections.

My hands are craving being in your hair 😔

I did not eat him. Zetsu is a liar.

You got any more pics like that? Please? 👀

I 💙 you too