#I’m slowly realizing I don’t know as many nicknames as I think I do lmao

[twocorvids]

screw ur zodiac sign— what adorable nickname do u think Rick will call morty next?

[idy-ll-ique]

Things I Like About You.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, fluff, fluff

Warnings: mentions of nightmares

Requested: nope

Summary: Bucky makes a list of 18 things that he likes about Y/N, starting with her voice.

Author's Note: Hiya peeps! idk how this idea came to me but I decided to proceed with it anyway lmao. enjoy!

---

The first thing he liked about her was her voice. Just smooth, soft, a little raspy but it made his heart flutter as he walked to the communal area with Steve, his best friend. As they neared the room her voice became louder, turned more melodic. Singing, she was singing a song. A wave of pleasure washed over him when he heard her but he concealed it easily.

The second thing he liked about her was her face. When he and Steve walked into the communal area her back was to them, and she was still singing. For a minute they just listened as Y/N hit all the notes correctly; only then did Steve cut her off by clearing his throat. She whirled around and his breath caught in his lungs.

She had the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen on anyone. They were simply perfect and when they narrowed as she smiled widely, he was done for. Her nose was perfect, her pretty lips were perfect, her teeth were perfect, her hair was perfect and literally everything else about her was just perfect. "Hi Steve, Mr Barnes!" She greeted them enthusiastically.

That was the third thing he liked about her, her personality. She was not too loud, not too quiet, not too brazen, not too prude… simply marvellous. "Hey, Y/N! You can call him Bucky, you know." She glanced at him and his eyes went wide on their own accord as he nodded, agreeing with Steve. Then she gave him another smile.

Oh boy, I'm in trouble. "Fine, Bucky. It's very nice to meet you." She held her hand out and that was the fourth thing he liked about her; the feel of her skin. Just like her voice, her skin was smooth and buttery, so soft that for a moment, he almost didn't want to blemish her beautiful skin by touching her. But he still gingerly took her hand, shaking it.

He did not trust his voice; he knew that if he tried to speak, he'd just squeak out some nonsense. Where is my 40s charm?! Just when you need it… He gave her a polite nod as they shook hands and Steve sighed on his right. "Sorry, it takes him a while to, you know, speak in front of the others…" Y/N waved him off easily.

"I understand, Steve. Let him take his time, no rush." She gave him another smile and this time, he found himself smiling back. "Your smile is wonderful," she told him, which caused his smile to widen involuntarily. "So is yours," he rasped and there it was: the fifth thing he liked about her. Her blush. She went red and rubbed the back of her neck.

"Thank you, Bucky." He had never liked his name more. "Well, now that you two have been introduced, I guess I can go. Think you can take it from here, Buck?" He nodded but the truth was that no, no he couldn't take it. Alone with her? What if he did something embarrassing and drove her off? "Shall we sit?"

She gestured to the couches and he nodded, both of them sitting next to each other. The sixth thing he liked about her, her posture. Back straight, ankles crossed, hands folded neatly on her lap, she looked like a Royal. There were no words spoken in the first five minutes but Y/N didn't get up, she knew it always took him some time. She'd be there for him.

"You sing wonderfully," he blurted out and she turned to look at him with the smile he was quickly getting obsessed with. I'm gonna have to make her smile more often. "Oh, thank you so much!" He gave her a smile of his own and looked down at his lap. "How are you doing today?" He looked back up. "I'm doing well, you?" She nodded and giggled.

"Sorry, didn't know what else to ask." The seventh thing he liked about her, her giggle. Her laugh, in general. "It's okay, darling," he grinned lazily and watched as she blushed again at the nickname. Maybe he won't embarrass himself after all. "So, are you new on the team?" he asked her and she shook her head.

"I'm not on the team, actually. I'm just good friends with the Avengers, I don't fight. I own a bakery down the street," she told him and he hummed. "A bakery? Sounds just as sweet as you," he flirted easily and watched how she went red again. "You're too flattering," she mumbled and he shook his head. "You deserve it."

"I was actually wondering when I'd get to meet you, but Steve told me I'd have to wait before you were ready," she blurted out, suddenly nervous. He cleared his throat and looked away. "Sorry." She placed a hand on his shoulder and his head snapped towards her, making her drop her hand. But he gently took it and returned it to his shoulder, giving her a shy smile.

"Hey, no, don't apologize. I have a PhD in Psychology, you know, I know you needed time. I was willing to wait longer," she told him and he felt his heart flutter. Mama, I found my wife. "You have a PhD and yet you opened a bakery?" She flushed deeper. "I just like baking. I have had my bakery before I even started my first year at the university."

"That's wonderful. So, uh, the Avengers, they visit often?"

"Yes, oh my God! After every damn mission. Steve and Sam were there the last time, yesterday, when they came back. Finished two dozen of my muffins, had to bake more in the middle of the night to restock." The eighth thing he liked about her, the way she complained, how her nose scrunched and she pulled a face.

He couldn't help but laugh. "They do have a sweet tooth," he pointed out and there it was; the ninth thing he liked about her— her pout. "Still! I lost a lot of sleep," she huffed. "I'd like to visit your bakery too, doll. Have an address?" She immediately reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling out a slightly crumpled business card.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry!" she hissed, noticing the state her card was in but he didn't care in the least. I'm going to keep this paper with me till the end of my life. "It's not a problem at all, doll." Then he examined the card, smirking at the name of the bakery. "The Sweet Spot, huh? Wonder where yours is," he spoke effortlessly, eyes still on the card.

He heard a choking noise and turned to see Y/N laughing behind her hands, barely able to contain herself. "Aren't you just smooth, Barnes," she replied evenly and all he wanted to do at the moment was haul her over his shoulder, take her to his bedroom and never leave. "I was known to be quite charming in the 40s," he winked and she giggled more.

"I would've loved to see that." Soon, she checked her watch and clicked her tongue, standing up. "My bakery opens in 15 minutes, I have to go. It was nice to meet you, Bucky." She simply stood there, fidgeting and that worried him. "Doll?" Her eyes met his. "Sorry, um, I was thinking… should I hug him or shake his hand? Probably should've—"

Without another word he pulled her in his arms and the tenth thing he liked about her? Her hugs. She easily slid her arms around his torso, pressed her face into his chest— being shorter than him— and squeezed. His vibranium hand cradled her head and the flesh one went around her shoulder, returning the squeeze.

The hug was longer than necessary, not that either of them complained. When she pulled away, both of them exchanged huge smiles. He felt lighter and happier than he had in years, even though he was attending therapy now. "Bye, Bucky! See you later!" Oh see you later alright, he visited the bakery just an hour later.

---

A sharp knock on the door to her apartment startled her. She checked the time; it was 2 am. Dread filled her entire body as she slowly made her way to the living room, peeking out of the peephole. The dread washed away entirely as she opened the door and swiftly pulled the man inside, shutting the door behind him.

"Bucky?"

"I needed you," he spoke hoarsely. Y/N noticed the dark circles under his eyes, his bloodshot eyes, his tousled hair and his dirty clothes. He had been gone on a mission for the past 5 months; they met 7 months ago. 5 months? Who has a mission that long? The Avengers, that's who. Bucky and Y/N had bonded quite well in the small amount of time.

There were many more things he realized he liked about her; her dancing, her cooking, her apartment, the smell of her laundry detergent, her caring nature, her jokes, her— "Bucky? Bubba, did you hear me?" He blinked a few times and offered her a sheepish smile, shaking his head. "I said, take a bath. I'll leave you some clothes outside."

He agreed instantly and went to her bathroom, hopping in for a quick wash. He cleaned himself with her body wash; it smelled like lavender that calmed him. He had missed her a lot. On the way back home all he could think about was her. He wanted— no, he needed to hold her as he slept to ensure he didn't wake up screaming.

After the shower as he put on the clothes she left for him, he realized something. Walking into the only bedroom in the apartment he saw her looking up from her phone. "Yes, Buck?" He hadn't permitted Sam to call him that, even though he had known the man longer than he had Y/N. "Are these Steve's clothes?"

She went pink and stammered. Bucky's brows furrowed. "Are you dating Steve?" he blurted out and her eyes went wide. "No, I've never dated Steve. It's just that… one time he was on a mission and he needed some place to hide and live for a few days. He lived with me. He left his bag behind and I kept the clothes, for situations like these."

He could tell she was telling the truth. The seventeenth thing he liked about her was her honesty. "Oh, okay." Suddenly a smirk came over her face, which made him nervous. "Were you jealous, Barnes?" It was his turn to blush and he went 10 shades darker than she had. "I— I mean, I— I wasn't, I— I was—" he stammered and she laughed.

"I was kidding! Get in the bed, we're going to sleep." He felt nervous again. "I, um, actually had a… favour, if it's not much, uh, if you don't agree I'll take the couch I promise, but I—" She shushed him. "Spit it out." He exhaled. "Can I… maybe… snuggle with you? While we sleep? Please?" He sounded so soft that all Y/N wanted to do was tell him how much she liked him and cuddle him to death.

"Of course! If it makes you feel better, sure, we can do that. Get in." He took off his t-shirt, hurriedly explaining that he couldn't sleep in them but she brushed him off. He got into the bed next to her and tentatively held his hand out, grinning to himself when she snuggled into his side with a soft sigh.

"You're so warm. It's perfect," she breathed out. Bucky never wanted to let go. "Goodnight, doll," he whispered and pressed a soft kiss to her head as both of them drifted off to dreamland. Bucky dreamt of her. The seventeen things he liked about her as of yet, with many more to come. Like maybe the way she tasted.

The way she would feel under him, around him… He gulped and rid himself of the thoughts; he didn't want a boner right now. You've known this woman for 7 months! Calm down, horny. That night, he slept like a baby, his firm hold on Y/N never wavering. Somewhere during the night her face had pushed itself in the crook of his neck, not that he cared.

One of his hands had landed on her butt while the other cradled her head again. Not that she cared. The next morning, Y/N was the first one up. She tried to get up from the bed but Bucky whined, actually whined underneath her. "Don't go." She giggled and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "I need to use the bathroom."

Blinking a bit at the unexpected kiss (not that it wasn't welcome), it took him a few minutes to process her words. He let her go then, falling back asleep. He was tired; if he could, he wouldn't wake up for another 2 weeks. Y/N smiled softly when she came out of the bathroom, he looked so peaceful. Let him stay a while longer. She went to make herself some breakfast.

15 minutes into the process Bucky showed up, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

He buried his face in the side of her neck, leaving tiny kisses. "I thought you'd like to sleep longer," Y/N offered, one hand squeezing his arm. "It wasn't the same without you." She giggled as he pulled away, giving him another kiss on the cheek. "You sure know how to flatter women," she snorted and he grinned.

"Not just any woman, you in particular," he winked, sitting down at the dining table as Y/N brought over 2 plates of pancakes. "Consider me impressed, James," she teased back. "When does the bakery close?" he questioned as they both ate. "5 pm, why?" "I'm taking you out on a date," he said confidently.

"What time?"

"6:30?"

"Cool."

After they finished eating, they cleaned up for the day and left her apartment. Bucky offered to drop her to her bakery and she readily agreed, both of them walking down the street hand-in-hand. "I've been wanting to ask you out ever since we met," he confessed and she turned to him. "So have I," she chuckled and he looked at her, another grin forming on his face.

Soon, they reached the bakery and stood outside, simply staring at each other. "So, uh, I guess I'll—" The rest of the sentence caught in her throat as Bucky leaned forward and kissed her deeply. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. Y/N kissed back, smiling when he pulled away. "Can't wait for 6:30," she whispered.

"Neither can I."

And as he walked back towards the Compound, he thought about her, the eighteenth thing he liked about her (her kisses) and the many more things he was sure he was going to like about her in the upcoming months.

---

A/N: Leave a like if you enjoyed, thanks for reading!

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Four / Irish Coffee

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!Reader

W/C: 3k

Warnings: alcohol, language, sexual harassment, physical fighting, Javi is a legend for this chapter/next lmao, reader wears makeup and heels but clothing is otherwise not described

A/N: HI I’m gonna forgo summaries for this series from now on, if anyone has an issue with that pls lmk and we can go back to it, I’m just sick of using like the same summary lmao! Hope you guys like it, idk when chapter 5 will come but somewhat soon!

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Irish coffee: a cocktail consisting of hot coffee, Irish whiskey, and sugar, stirred, and topped with cream. The coffee is drunk through the cream.

Four nights after you first kissed Javier, and now many kisses later, Javier insists he take you to the one place he knows in D.C.: a nice bar in the downtown area. You’d spent the days visiting museums and monuments, giving him a tour of the Georgetown campus too. He’d hum along to the radio in your shitty car while you drove place to place. He surprised you with how much modern music he knew.

If the past four days have been getting to know Javier, privately becoming acquainted with each other’s minds and lips, tonight is some kind of grand exposition. Your brief whirlwind of a romance has been contained to your coffee shop and small restaurants off the beaten path. Javier is a well-connected man; he’s sure to know people downtown. From what he’s explained to you, he’s somewhat of a powerhouse in the DEA. Everyone downtown knows a version of the man, who goes by Agent Peña, but all you know is your Javi, your Javi who kisses you goodnight after buying you cupcakes, who drinks your peppermint mochas like it’s the nectar of the gods.

So, it’s safe to say you’re nervous. If he’s bringing you somewhere where he will know people, which he offhandedly told you, you’re going to be the living legend’s date for the night. As you stare into the mirror, your brow furrows in concentration, drawing a line across your eyelid with a pencil of kohl, your phone rings on the vanity in front of you. It makes you jump and the eye pencil drag upwards across your eyelid- most definitely not where you intended it to go. “Fuck!” you shout in annoyance and toss the pencil down. When you pick up, your voice shows your frustration. “Hello?” You ask sharply.

“Hey, abejita,” a smooth voice answers: who else but Javier. 

“Hi, Javi,” you sigh as you press the button, moving the call to the speakerphone. “You made me fuck up my eyeliner.”

“Sorry. Just calling to talk.”

His words make you smile and your ears feel warm as they rush with blood. You aren’t picking him up for another hour. “What, you couldn’t wait that long to talk?” You ask him, biting down on your painted lips with a smile. 

“No. I’m bored and I miss you.” It’s true, he thinks to himself. He hasn’t seen you all day. After spending the last three days in nearly 24-hour contact, he misses the sound of your laughter and the way your soft lips feel pressed against his stubbled cheek. 

“Well, I suppose it’s been…” you trail off as you calculate, “about 20 hours since I’ve seen you. I”m practically going through withdrawals,” you laugh, and it makes Javier’s chest warm to hear that beautiful sound, even through the tinny receiver of the hotel’s phone. “You know, if you have a cute nickname for me, I need to have something equally cute for you.”

“There’s a difference, abejita,” Javier teases, opening the hotel window to smoke out of. “You’re cute. I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“I am many things, little bee, but I am not cute,” Javier chuckles as he sticks the cigarette between his lips and lights it up.

“Well, I think you are,” you refute in a stubborn tone. “You bought me cupcakes on our first date. That’s cute. You come to my work and bring me treats and kiss me in front of my coworkers. That’s cute too.”

Javier shakes his head. Sure, the things could be classified as cute, he supposes, but they’re not the normal Javier. Sexy, rude, intelligent, any of those words could describe him. He’s a playboy, a heartbreaker, and all in all is, by principle, a lone wolf. Well, he was. He’s been chasing Escobar for years and years… and now he’s dead. Maybe he can allow himself to start anew, and this new beginning has to have you in it.

He takes a slow drag from the cigarette, getting lost in his own thoughts and forgetting to answer. The silence makes you suspicious. “Javi? Did I lose you?”

The words snap him back to reality. “No, I’m here. I’m sorry, I… zoned out there.”

“Good,” you smile as you wipe off the messy eyeliner and apply a new, perfectly winged layer of the dark makeup. “I suppose I’ll just have to see what comes. Nicknames have to be earned, not given. Did you ever have any nicknames when you were little?” You ask as you brush a sparkling powder over your eyes.

Javier thinks for a second, almost to the point where you have to ask again if he’s there. That seems to be Javier’s biggest flaw so far. “No, not really. Sometimes the other kids would call me Peñita. Didn’t like that one,” he chuckles, and you can hear air rush past the microphone as he exhales the smoke into the ever-darkening D.C. sky. “My mom had all kinds of names for me, but they were the things you’d call a little kid.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you and you need to speak. “That’s cute. Tell me about your parents,” you ask him as you continue to brush various makeup products across your face.

Javier shakes his head. “That’s more of an over-drinks topic, I think.”

“When have you ever held back information from me?” You scoff lightly, as if you’ve known him a thousand years. It hits you as you say it, the whirlwind this entire thing has been. You’ve known Javier for five days, and he’s already everything to you. And he’s going back to Colombia in 3 weeks. It makes your heart sink in your chest, and anxiety creeps in, the realization that he might not be falling as quickly as you are. Maybe it’s time to pull back a little, you tell yourself. He won’t be here long.

“Ha,” he says dryly and takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, I’m ready when you are, if you want to come get me a little earlier.”

His emotionless tone makes you panic. You wonder if you just went somewhere you shouldn’t have by asking about his parents, if you’ve just crossed some line you didn’t know existed. You desperately want to ask him, to reassure yourself and get rid of the worry slowly collecting in your gut, but you don’t. You can’t. You shouldn’t. “I’m still getting ready,” you tell him, and it’s truthful. “I’ll be there at 7, like we said. Is that alright?” you ask. 

Javier blows a breath of smoke into the night, the cloud of smoke mingling with the heat puff of his breath. “Sounds good to me. I’ll leave you alone to get ready,” he tells you with a small smile.

“Alright. I’ll see you then. You’re wearing something nice, right?” You clarify one last time. 

“Whatever you wear will be beautiful on you. Don’t worry about it.” Javier, ever the king of flattery, looks down and appraises his own outfit. “But yes, I’m wearing something nice.”

You smile at the reassurance, looking down at the swirling colors of your makeup palette. “Well, thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” -

You have to say you’re surprised at the level of refinement of the hotel. You’d expected the DEA would’ve put Javier at some shitty little hotel, but it’s surprisingly nice. You remember a few days ago, the sheer terror masked behind a stoic face, but you chuckle as you consider that this famed agent had very few context clue skills. This hotel is nice, a couple of stars at least. Why would they put him here if they were firing him?

Javier stubs out his cigarette in an ashtray when he sees your car approaching, straightening his sport coat. You hold back a grin as he walks over, but the fighting ends when you see him smile as he opens the door and slides in. 

“Hi,” you beam at him, and he leans across the center console, stealing a kiss.

“Hey.” He sneaks one more kiss, one that lasts a little longer and dares to use a bit of tongue. He only breaks away when you do with a laugh. 

“My foot is on the brake right now; be careful but kiss me one more time,” you ask of him with a grin, and he happily complies, cupping your face and kissing you. When he breaks away, your eyes open slowly and you can’t hold in your happiness. “Alright, now we’re going. You’ll have to guide me,” you tell him, and he nods. 

“Sure. You’re just going to go out of here and onto that street to the right,” he says and points the way for you.

Your car follows the path, nodding along to Javier’s instructions. “Jesus, that’s a fancy place. How much does that hotel cost a night?” You marvel as you stare at the gorgeous building in your rearview mirror.  

Javier shrugs. “I’m about to find out. They’re only paying for a few nights for me, then I’m on my own. I’m guessing it isn’t cheap,” he chuckles as he looks over his shoulder. “Or I might switch hotels. Don’t know yet.”

Frowning, you take a turn he’d earlier instructed you to follow. The hotel fades from sight, the dark blue of the December night filling your rearview instead. “Well, I know of a place you could stay for way cheaper.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, adjusting in his seat to face toward you more. “What is that, pretty thing?” He asks, a hand resting on your thigh. 

“Stop,” you giggle and rest one hand atop of his. His fingers are much larger than yours, a fact that makes you shudder as his fingertips find bare skin there. “Pretty thing? That’s weak,” you tease, and Javier just rolls his eyes. “I was going to say you could stay with me, but now I’m not sure,” you say teasingly, eyes locked on the road and most certainly off of Javier. 

His brow furrows. “Well, I can pay you then.”

You shake your head. “Javi. We’re dating… aren’t we?” You ask, the hesitancy creeping into your voice. Now that you say it aloud, you’re not entirely sure that you are. “I mean, I don’t know, I just kind of thought,” you stumble over your speech, word-vomiting out whatever you can to backtrack. 

The man next to you tilts his head, but he nods. “I… I haven’t dated anyone in a long time,” he admits, his fingers starting to slowly grip your thigh rather than rest atop it. “Is this what dating is like to you?”

You nod too, knowing he’s watching you, staring down at the steering wheel. “I… yeah?”

A small smile cracks on his face, making the mustache there twitch softly. “Then I guess I’d say we’re dating. But that doesn’t matter, I don’t want to live in your place rent-free for three weeks.”

“It’s an extended vacation,” you chuckle and bring your hand back to the steering wheel to have two hands for a turn. “Don’t worry about it. I’d like having you around. We’ve already been together nonstop for a couple of days. What’s a little more?” You ask as you look over at him, seeing his eyes soften and his forehead relax from its tightened state. “And besides, any hotel is going to be painfully expensive right now. D.C. during the holidays makes the hotel rates skyrocket.”

He nods as you speak, processing the idea. “Well, do you have a guest room? I don’t want to invade your space, I can sleep on the couch if you don’t, or I can stay in a hotel.”

“Javier,” you chuckle, putting your own hand on his thigh to reassure him. “We’re not moving in together permanently. You’ll stay with me until you need to go back to Colombia, and that’s that.” Your mind has been made up. He can’t argue it, and he knows it from the firmness in your grip on his leg, in the way your body goes rigid as if the words are some formal deal that requires a handshake.

“How do you know I’m not some serial killer who does exactly this to lure you to your death?” Javier asks dryly as he looks over at you, lifting a hand to trace the side of your face slowly.

“Because you’re Javier Peña. Your name was in the newspaper next to Steve’s. You work for the DEA.”

“Some of the guys I work with could definitely be serial killers, that doesn’t discount anything,” Javier grumbles, which makes you laugh and makes him even grumpier. 

“The fact that you said that to me in the first place is my proof, Javi,” you chuckle and pat his thigh softly. “I’m an excellent judge of character. I just graduated from 7 straight years of studying psychology. Remember that?” Javier’s quiet and you know you’ve won. “Then tonight we’ll get your stuff after dinner and get you settled in my place. How does that sound?”

He’s quiet again, studying your face and the way your cheeks move with your lips, the way your brows rise and fall when he’s being ridiculous. He’s just as trained as you are, with 10+ years on you to prove his competence. You like him. You might even love him already, he thinks to himself. Your pretty lips purse at his silence and he finally cracks. “That sounds great, abejita.” Javier leans across the console to kiss your cheek, which makes you shiver softly, like any touch from the man does. “Thank you.”

“Thank me by buying me some drinks, huh?” You tease, turning back to focus on the road. 

-

The bar was nice. Really nice, you learned as you walked in. It projected the essence of Javier to you; naturally, you loved it from the moment you looked around. The room had a low ceiling and wood paneling around the walls, a floor that your short heels clacked upon as you walked to the only open stools- well, only one stool, you realized as you walked. Javier walked behind you, a hand on the small of your back, admiring your legs in the outfit you wore. 

When you finally found the available spot, where you’re now sipping a drink, you’d found that there was only one stool. 

“Do you want to go sit in the restaurant?” You asked Javier as you nodded with your head to the side of the establishment with tables and booths.

He shook his head and pulled out the stool. “You sit. I’ll stand.”

“Javi-”

“Just sit, abejita. I’ve been sitting all day. I can handle a little standing,” he chuckles and kisses your head, gesturing to the stool. When you sit, he smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you loosely from behind. You lean back against his strong chest.

Over the past few days, you and Javier have made infrequent contact, a hug in greeting or in goodbye and plenty of shared kisses. This, however, speaks directly to your touch-starved soul, the way his body practically encompasses you. He orders himself a whiskey and the drink you’d ordered on the first night you met him for you, then continues to stand there.

You crane your head around to look at him, smiling. “I love this place already,” you say, admiring the way you can hear over the hum of the other patrons and the quiet music playing. You’re much more accustomed to places your friends would drag you, where it was more for the cheap drinks than the atmosphere. 

The crow’s feet by his eyes are more pronounced as he smiles at you, but he looks even younger as his lips curve up softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shit, is that Peña?” A loud voice calls from somewhere else in the building, and Javier turns, his face falling flat then smiling as he sees the voice behind it. 

“Be right back,” he murmurs and presses a kiss into the top of your head. 

It’s someone he recognizes, that’s for sure, as the man and Javier wrap their arms around each other and firmly pat the other’s back. “No shit! When did you get back to D.C., man?” The other guy asks. “Escobar just died and they’re already sending you back?”

The bartender delivers your drink, and you turn your back to Javier, thanking them and sipping at your liquor. Over your shoulder, you can hear the man and Javier talk shop, about Colombia and their days as DEA trainees, about Escobar’s recent death and Javi’s recent promotion. You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling as he easily talks with the group. You’ve not had the privilege of seeing Javier with his friends- or what seem to be his friends- yet, and he seems fairly social but humble. You appreciate that.

The talking goes on for a while, and you sip at your drink and look around the bar, appreciating the wood that makes a nice noise as your fingernails tap against it rhythmically. 

When your drink is about half-drained, the bartender sets another in front of you. It’s different from what you were drinking, a fluorescent neon color surely made by a mix of ridiculously fruity liqueurs. You look at the bartender with confusion and they nod to a man at the end of the bar. He’s not looking at you, which makes it all the easier to stare at the drink in confusion and disgust rather than drink it. His tie is absolutely egregious, boldly patterned in bright colors. There’s not an ounce of taste about this man.

The drink goes untouched, sitting in front of you as you study it. There seems to be layers, maybe, or maybe the mixed alcohols just congealed awkwardly. You sip your drink and then Javier’s whiskey, refusing to drink whatever fucking concotion sits in front of you.

Five or ten more minutes pass of Javier talking with his friends. You don’t mind- you know the feeling of catching up with people you haven’t seen in a long time. In that time, the drink remains untouched, and you ask the bartender for a refill of your go-to drink.

Not long after the second one arrives, you feel a hand on the curve of your back. You turn, hoping it’s Javier, and instead find it to be the man at the end of the bar who ordered you the drink: Tie Guy. Panic sets in immediately and you arch your back to dodge the hand, which only follows your spine. “Hey. Thought you’d like this drink. You tried it yet?” The man asks, voice clearly showing that he knows you haven’t. 

“No,” you say with a swallow, turning away from him. “Not exactly my style.”

“I thought it was such a pretty drink for such a pretty thing.”

Pretty thing. When Javier called you that earlier, even though the name wasn’t one you liked, it was at least endearing. To hear it again, dripping with sleaze and ill intentions, you shiver and push it further away. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s not my type of drink. My boyfriend will be right back, and-” you try, hating the defense you try to pull.

“He drinks whiskey,” Tie Guy says and gestures to Javier’s ¾ full glass. “No fun. Boring. Too manly, pretentious. Real men can drink something fun like these and not need to worry about someone thinking they don’t have a set of balls,” he says and his fingers trace the rim of the martini glass the concoction sits in. Now you’re definitely not drinking it, now that he’s touched it. 

“Please, I’m not interested,” you try, turning around to face the man that towers over your seated body. “I’d appreciate it if-”

“Hey,” a familiar voice- thank fuck, it’s Javier- calls from behind you. “Excuse me,” he says and pushes Tie Guy out of the way, his arm wrapping around you. It’s a relief, a grip meant entirely for comfort and not for the coercion the man across from you had tried. You melt into it instantly. “She said to back the fuck off, or could you not fucking tell?” He hisses at the man. Javier pulls away from you, stepping towards the man who instinctively steps back.

“Whiskey drinker,” the man snorts and rolls his eyes. “So manly, so over the top. Gotta let everyone know that you’re the alpha, the dominant male, huh?” He asks, getting in Javier’s face. He’s taller than your Javier, but lankier. The fact that Javier could take him crosses your mind, though you hope desperately that it doesn’t come to that.

“What I drink doesn’t fucking matter,” Javier says and shoves his chest. “What matters is that you’re fucking harassing my girlfriend. Back the fuck off,” he says and turns from the man, back to you, his hand on your upper arm. “You okay?” he asks quietly, and you respond with a nod and a forced, close-lipped smile.

“Yep, go ahead, go back to your little prude,” the man laughs drunkenly, his voice full of vitriol. “Oh, no, I bet she loves to act all shy, but then she’s a kinky little thing in bed, isn’t she?” He asks, taunting Javier. “Ties your ass up and whips you, with that sass. I wonder if she-”

The sentence isn’t finished. Javier’s fist flies through the air and connects with the man’s face, followed by a loud, ringing thud as the taller body hits the floor.

-

caffeine rush taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles

[zodiyack]

Detective Smarts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abuse

Words: 1,317

Summary: The crew is having a hard time and Spencer offers to call in some back up. Who’d’ve known she was what the B.A.U. needed- or that she was dating the brainy doctor?

Note: I’m sorry if this sucks big time, I couldn’t think of a good case. Let’s just say that I’m never using anything original for a case the team solves ever again lmao

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace​, @fandom-puff​, @darling-i-read-it​

Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

They walked around, inspecting the scene. “It could’ve been anything. Homicide, self-defense, ectara ectara. We don’t have nearly enough to go by. No- actually, we have practically nothing to go by!”

“Either way," Garcia snorted into the headset, “it was a crime.”

“Should I call in Miss L/n?” Spencer quirked a brow, raising his phone to gesture at what he’d asked. Morgan looked up from his ‘station’ with a teasing grin, poking fun at the thought, well- fact, of Spencer having a girl’s number.

“L/n? As in Y/n L/n?”

“Yep.”

“Well shit.” Derek chuckled to himself and continued working.

Emily looked between the two with confusion scattered across her face. “Y/n? Who’s tha-” She frowned as the realization hit her. “That Y/n?”

“Well that depends on who you’re referring to when you say ‘that Y/n’.”

Her glare was strong; Spencer could’ve sworn he felt a drop of sweat drip from his forehead from the intensity of her harsh gaze. Nevertheless, he allowed a teasing smirk of his own to grace his lips. “You know exactly who I’m referring to, Reid.”

“That I do, but I-...ya know...just saying.” His sentence died down as he averted his eyes from Prentiss’. She simply nodded and went back to work, the complaints returning just as she did. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

It wasn’t Emily’s fault that she didn’t like Y/n...well...okay, so it kind of was. She only disliked the mention of the woman because Spencer was boasting about her like she was some kind of god; he’d been overly excited about how she cracked one of their past cases much faster than they did- to which Emily rolled her eyes and added, “Yeah, she probably looked it up.” and other stories involving Spencer’s fascination with the woman.

“Prentiss, are you one-hundred percent s-”

“Fine.” She rubbed her temples for a moment before returning to searching for more to work with. “Call her. I wanna see what makes this Y/n so great.”

“Is someone jealous or just having a bad day?”

Taking note of her attitude, Derek answered for Emily. “Not the time, mamma, not the time.”

Spencer had excused himself from the room to make his call, returning back to the, ever so unfortunately, tension filled room. His attitude had changed as well, leaving the room kind of bored to reentering with a large amount of excitement.

“So?”

“She’s on her way.”

The wait for when the mystery woman would arrive was...interesting. Derek couldn’t help but notice, and allow himself to also get distracted with his observation, how unusually distracted the determined doctor was, and how he smiled and blushed after a soft snicker would escape his mouth every now and then.

Emily seemed to dread it, but he couldn’t tell. Not with how agitated she’d acted the whole day; at this point, he couldn’t tell whether she was feeling anything aside from anger.

They worked in silence, small talk was there but not permanently, until a knock came from the door of the apartment they were working in. Spencer was the first to hop up, tripping over his own feet as he sped to the door and answered it.

It swung open to reveal a very beautiful woman, who Prentiss and Morgan guessed to be Y/n.

However, it wasn’t her looks that shocked them.

It was what they saw next that did the trick.

The woman, possibly Y/n, lifted her hand to Dr. Reid’s cheek and pulled him in for a loving kiss. He raised his hand to meet hers and made a small noise of appreciation as he smiled into their kiss, not that the other two could see it.

After they pulled away from each other, she wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly to her, Spencer mirroring her actions and holding her flush against his chest as it heaved with a hearty chuckle. It took them both a moment to remember their very public location.

“Um, hi. I’m-”

“Y/n?” Derek’s brows were still escaping to the top of his forehead, the shock and image from what had just happened never seeming to process in his mind. The woman in front of him nodded, pulling out a pair of latex gloves and putting them on.

“I hear you guys need help?”

“Nope. Just wanted to see if you were as good a help as Reid says you are. So uh...have at it.” Emily stood up and pulled her own gloves off before walking over and leaning against the wall by the door.

“Are you sure it’s oka-”

“By all means, fire-cracker, take a look.” Derek followed Emily’s actions of rising from the ground but stayed planted where he was.

“’Fire-cracker?’”

Garcia laughed loudly, the noise from Derek’s phone startling Y/n slightly, “Just a nickname from, of course, moi.” Her giggle faded quickly as she interrupted it with more to comment, “From what our lovely Dr. Reid says about you, I’m come up with fire-cracker. Let’s just hope we’re both right.”

Y/n nodded slowly and began inspecting, weaving in and out of rooms. The three stayed out of her way, next to or against the wall, as they watched her. Although not much time had gone past, Prentiss smiled a little, feeling as if she would be right about this time, as if she knew Y/n couldn’t do what Spencer claimed she could do.

If only she hadn’t “jinxed” her luck with the thoughts of success; Y/n had cracked it. She had only been in the room for around ten to twenty minutes.

“Alright so, you see these?” She gestured to a couple of splatters of blood on the floor next to the kitchen counter. “And this,” she then walked to the bathroom, which was the first room in the hallway that led out of the kitchen, “and that puddle right there.” Finally, she pointed to the main spot where the blood had been.

She walked to the room next to the bathroom, which was a bedroom. “This room was not the owners, as their room is the next one over-”

“And how do you know?” Prentiss inquired.

“Oh, because all their belongings and photos of them with friends are in the other one, but this one is pretty much empty if you don’t count the bed and bed sheets. The person was likely the unsub’s partner or parent.”

“And how do you know that too?”

“Well, they killed the person due to abuse related terms, which, before you ask me again, I know that because of the belt in the other person’s drawer covered in a tiny splatters of blood. And,” she lifted the comforter, ”there’s smear marks along the bed-sheet. Can you guess what it is?”

“Blood?”

“Bingo, point to Morgan. Yes, it’s blood. So the person was stabbed somewhere around the bathroom, we’ve figured that much, but what about the blood in the kitchen? Great, yes, glad you asked- remember the blood on the belt I mentioned not less than a minute ago? Well the person was hit with the belt so hard they bled, went to sleep and got it on their sheets, and went through that so many times that after being hit again, they just...” she popped her lips, “snapped.”

“Mhm. So wha-”

“Actually, fire-cracker’s right on this one.” Garcia sounded just as shocked as Morgan and Prentiss looked. “Did some research on the owner of the apartment and multiple accusations of abuse have been made against them.”

Y/n held the silence after Garcia’s comment for a bit longer before turning to Spencer with a nervous smile. “So uh- how’d I do?”

“Honestly-” he smiled with pride and adoration, “I think it would’ve taken us quite a while had you not been here.”

“Yeah, you can say that again.” Derek nodded with a chuckle.

And though she hesitated, Prentiss gave in, “You’ve got some good skill, kid. Thanks for the help.”

[doctorgerth]

Hello, how ya been? Could you do “Wanna, like- I mean if you’re not busy... We could get lunch? Or even just coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?” 'n Confession for Killer, X Drake or Bartolomeo with a female reader, fluffy, mild nsft n all that, where they like are talking to her the morning after the naughties and they're trynna ask her on a date (I hope that isn't too much expansion lmao-)

Thanks in advance uwu

❥ “Enchanted” - Valentine’s Day Event Scenario [ 2 / 14 ]

❥ prompt: “Wanna, like- I mean if you’re not busy we could get lunch? Or even just a coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

❥ theme: Confession

❥ pairing: Drake x F!Reader

❥ warnings: light ns.fw, one night stands, implied drunk sex, brief mention of reptilian/dino sex

❥ word count: 1k

❥ a/n: apologetic, blushy Drake is my weakness. 🤧 it was nice to explore a more casual side of him! I hope he’s not too ooc in this. thanks so much for this request, my love!!

Feather-like touches tickled against your skin, jolting you awake with a sharp inhale that startled both you and the stranger in your bed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

A distant, hardly recognizable voice called out from behind you. You rubbed at your eyes, adjusting to the warm lighting of the bedroom that was most definitely not yours. As you took in the scenery, your eyes fixated on the tall wardrobe, then the mahogany desk that was adorned with a dingy vanity mirror and what appeared to be your undergarments. You were in a hotel room and the memories of last night at last became clearer; alluring memories of an incredibly handsome and adorably blushy redhead filling in the gaps.

Turning to face him, you silently prayed that your memories weren’t distorted and he had retained the handsome imagery your mind was currently painting in your headspace. As you locked eyes with him, you audibly sighed, not hiding your beaming smile as he was just as sexy as you remembered; even more so with sleep heavy in his eyes and the aftermath of last night’s events laced through his disheveled hair and printed along the pale skin of his neck like a work of art.

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t sleep too much longer anyway.” You stretched your body to life, yawning as you did so. His brows furrowed in concern as you lightly hissed when your muscles quickly reminded you how sore they actually were.

“I got you some water.” His head notioned over to the nightstand where a tall glass of water never looked so good.

“How chivalrous of you.” You sat up and covered your body with the sheets, or rather, what was left of them, and unabashedly chugged the water.

He chuckled, “Well, you did call me Mr. Chivalry last night.”

It was your turn to blush at the memories of your overbearingly flirtatious slurs of that silly nickname. You didn’t want to admit you had forgotten his real name already, but you figured you wouldn’t be able to hide your fuzzy memory for long.

“I’m sorry about that. Could you remind me…?”

“Don’t worry about it - it’s Drake. Truthfully, I don’t remember yours either and I was hoping you’d be the first one to bring up the names.”

You playfully smacked his arm, “You sneaky bastard! I’m going to have to deduct some chivalry points for that one.” He laughed this time, loudly, and it made your heart beat wildly in your chest. You were sure he could hear it too. “You’ll be paying for all of this too, as recompense.”

He groaned as you held up a tattered pillow, feathers spilling out of the seams, “I’m sorry, it seems I might have lost a little bit of control last night...”

“The biting and scales were a bit adventurous,” You discarded the pillow with a sly smirk, “but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a good time.”

Drake face-palmed with hints of red peeking between long, slender fingers, “Agh, please forgive me. I’m not usually like this. I mean, I don’t usually partake in things like this.”

“What? One night stands? Or reptilian sex?”

He stiffened, a mad blush now blooming across his entire pale face as he covered his head with the only intact pillow left, “Don’t be so blunt! But, yes, to the former. I’m going to ignore that second question.”

“So you’ve never had one before?” You inquired.

“Very few. I’m usually quick to leave before they wake.”

You gasped dramatically as you placed your hand over your chest, “Well that’s not very chivalrous of you, Drake.”

He snorted, “No, it’s not. I have many regrets.”

“Well, now you have me curious.” You joined him under the sheets again. Flipping onto your side to face him, you placed your head in the palm of your hand and offered him a wicked smile. “Why are you still here then?”

Drake inhaled deeply before slowly removing the pillow. His head rolled towards your direction, and his lips curved upwards as he inched closer to you, holding your gaze as he reached out to touch your hair, “That’s precisely what I’m trying to figure out…”

You bit your lip as you pondered for a moment, “This doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to. We got what we wanted, and now we can go our separate ways. We don’t have to stay.”

His bottom lip dropped into a slight pout, “But what if I want you to stay?”

“What?”

“Forgive me if this is too forward, but, I’m enchanted by you and I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye just yet.”

Your entire body tingled at his confession and you had to pick your jaw up off the floor. Thankfully, he was too flustered himself to realize your own embarrassment.

He continued on, a nervous quake in his voice as he began rambling, “Wanna, like- I mean if you’re not busy…we could get lunch? Or even just a coffee if you don’t have a lot of time?”

After some time, which felt like years to poor Drake, you responded with a playful tone, “Is this for chivalry points?”

“Well, I would very much enjoy a chance for you to see me as my true self and not just a drunken, horny mess.”

“You say that as if that side of you is so bad.”

“Please don’t tease me.”

“You make it too easy.” You giggled as you nearly leapt out of bed with pure excitement. As pathetic as it may have sounded, which is exactly why you didn’t voice this thought out loud, you were quite relieved to not have to spend Valentine’s Day alone. “Lunch sounds great! I’ll go get dressed and we can-”

He gently grabbed at your wrist, preventing you from leaving the bed just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe we could give last night another go, especially since we’re sober and you know my name now…if you’d be interested?” A mischievous twinkle gleamed in his blue irises. Sneaky, cheeky bastard you thought to yourself, such a tease and he doesn’t even know it! You rolled on top of him, still clutching at the sheets to cover yourself, a playful gleam of your own shining right back as you straddled his lap comfortably.

“Sure, as long as you don’t get another nose bleed when you see me naked.”

“Oh, of course you remember that!” He pulled you down to him with another hearty laugh hidden behind a warm blush, claiming your lips and tangling with you in the sheets once more. The two of you knew those lunch plans would in fact be changing to dinner plans.

If you enjoyed this, please be sure to leave a like, comment, and/or reblog! 💕

[ultraorse]

Kirishima Sits On Your Chest/Size Kink Kiri

I literally don’t use this tumblr ever but I wrote a Reader x Kirishima smut so like.... I’ll post it here. Hopefully it’s okay lmao. This isn’t even proof read by the way I just got the idea and wrote it out. To all of you who see this, hopefully this can help with your Kiri thirst haha. Also, if you wanna, let me know what you think about it cause this is pretty much the only smut I’ve ever written lmao

It’s... not exactly a real smut? I don’t know how to explain it. You’ll see.

Warnings: Uh.... he sits on you but he’s careful, size kink, daddy kink, ...power kink? ( he just likes making you feel small ), YY nicknames, teasing, not actually fucking ( he just teases you )

You didn’t know you had a size kink before you met Kiri. A couple months into your relationship he told you that he had a size kink and you thought “Alright. Well if Kiri finds it sexy I’m sure I will too.” 

Kiri loves you. He loves how small you are compared to him. He loves how you giggle and blush when he puffs out his chest. He loves being bigger than you. He wants to take care of you, wants to be your daddy shark.

On occasion Kiri will sit just above your chest in bed. He lets himself sit there and rests his weight on you. Sometimes you like more and sometimes you like less. Never all of it, he doesn’t want to suffocate you. But he’ll sit there and be comfortable with his knees resting a little ways from your head and his crotch near your face. Not too close. That’s the point. He sits here to tease you. He’s bigger than you, on top of you. He loves how you never realize until too late that he’s placed his calves on your arms. You can’t move to touch him and he knows that drives you wild. You love touching him, pleasing him. Like a little helper, a lovely sexy thing, devoted to giving him the most pleasure you can. He loves you but he wants to tease you. So he pins you to the bed with his hips and ass and he teases you with his cock.

He loves to look down at you while he palms it ever so slowly through his pants. To watch as you watch it grow and throb. He gets so hard all the time with you. He remembers the days where he’ll be sitting at work and one thought of you will make his body go rigid.

He sits and he rubs his cock and he watches you. He feels so powerful here, in control of you. He watches your mouth fall open as you salivate over his dick and he feels so good knowing you want to please him. 

You bring your hands up to try and touch him. Of course they don’t go very far. You whine at him, realizing he’s pinned you down again and he chuckles at you. He’ll stay like this for a while. Trying his best to keep his composure while you stare at his hand on his cock. Listening to your breathing go ragged and feeling your heartbeat speed up under him. He’ll unzip his pants a little. Just a bit, to feel your chest heave as your breath speeds up in anticipation. You’ll pout when he doesn’t even go halfway down. He loves your pout, it’s adorable. He’ll put his hand in your hair and tell you to look up at him. 

Your eyes trail over his body. His v-line, his abs, his chest, and then to his face. You hesitate a moment to look into his eyes but his patience rewards him when you do. Your eyes are so beautiful. God, he loves you.

“Hey baby. How you doin’ down there hm?”

He speaks slowly, softly. Almost a whisper if not for the tenor in his voice. He knows when you get like this anything too much or too loud will bring you out of your lovely trance. He wants you to be little for him.

“Are you okay?”

You nod your head. He smooths your hair back with his hand and gets his fingers lost in your strands. His rubs at your scalp. You sigh nicely for him.

“Look at my cock baby.”

Your eyes travel the expanse of his body to find his manhood. Untucked from his pants and freed from his boxers. It curves up towards his belly button, thick and long and red at the head. Redder than normal. You shiver. It makes a slick noise as he pumps it. It’s close to your face but not close enough. You want to wrap your lips around it and make him feel good. But you can’t because he’s got your arms pinned down and that hand in your hair making your eyes want to roll back in your head. He smells so good.

“You like that baby? I’m so hard. All for you…”

He tells you how much he loves you. How much he loves your body, your reactions, how much you ache for him when he’s done barely anything. He tells you so he can watch your face heat up even more, so he can feel you squirm. He praises you endlessly as he strokes his cock.

The first time he put his hand back he put it on your hip. He wanted to touch you. He puts his hand back so he can make a show of himself, pump his cock into his hand as his back arches and he moans your name. But one time he put his hand on the bed next to you instead. And to his amazement he found that as he began to spoil you with his pleasure, your hips began to rock at the same pace he was pumping himself. He sped up.

“Oh… oh baby shark yeah. Yeah…. Oh- oh fuck yeah baby. Come on, come on, keep doing that, yeah yeah, oh my god you’re so sexy…”

The words poured from him, he couldn’t stop. He never imagined you could be so lewd. Getting off to him fucking his hand right in front of you. You were panting and groaning for him, saying his name. All his. No one else’s. You’re all his.

“Yeah baby, baby shark oh- oh god baby....”

He could feel himself nearing the edge. His hand slowed down in preparation to stop. Of course this wasn’t the end. He still had to make you cum as many times as you’d let him. He knew you’d be soaked, he knew you were clenching around nothing and throbbing for him too. He wanted to touch you so bad.

“Kiri…. Daddy…..”

Oh god your moans sounded so sweet. He was so lucky to have a sweet little thing like you. You were trembling... and all from his little show.

“Kiri.... Ki- ah… ah… AH-”

You…… fuck.

He exploded. His cum shot from him just as your hips jumped and your fists clenched. You came so of course he couldn’t stop himself. His hand worked furiously at his cock and you writhed under him as his cum painted your face and your insides throbbed around nothing.

After a minute or two he calmed and saw the mess he had made of you.

“Oh sweetheart, I’m so sorry-”

“Daddy…”

You were holding your arms out for him. He wanted to give you all the pleasure you could dream of but arms out meant you wanted to cuddle. He grabbed some tissues and wiped your face clean only to blush when you pouted at him. When he laid down with you, you rolled and immediately buried your face in his chest.

“Was that alright baby? Did I go too far? Are you okay?”

He was worried, of course he was. He usually didn’t cum during that part, it was meant to be foreplay. Of course he wanted to cum whenever he was near you, let alone on top of you. But he couldn’t restrain himself when he saw that pretty face you make when you orgasm.

“Yes daddy. Love you.”

You sounded so tired…. Maybe a rest wouldn’t hurt. When you wake up he’ll make sure you know how much you drive him crazy. He’ll make sure you know he loves you the most in the world.

“I love you too baby. Sleep well sweetheart.”

[nemuitoka]

What are your favorte jshk fanfics? also where do you like reading them the most?

Hi Anon!!! today is the day I can finally answer this question😈 ahaha you know how much I enjoy making fic recs so 👀 Let’s go!!!

To answer your second question first, I like reading them on AO3 the most! Mostly because I get almost unlimited number of characters to rant in the comment section........... 😆but also the tagging system is very helpful.

Okay, now to the fun part of this ask😏

You said JSHK, but I mostly read Hananene ones so all of my favs include that pairing... as  I already did a fic rec here of my favs, this list will continue that one, so please check that one first hehe ((I apologize in advance..., I would love for people to recommend me some mitsukou ones tbh... I’m really lost when it comes to other pairings orz)) 

If I’m completely honest with you anon-san, my favorite JSHK fic right now is the one Roxanne ( @istoleyourboat )  wrote based of my art and her snippet:

Star-Crossed and Falling- Where Stars Go to Die by lilaflo

Hanako is Princess Nene’s personal knight 👀. A tale of forbidden love. They slowly fall in love as they exchange a series of gifts, one that includes a pair of matching earrings that remind them of their love when they’re apart. Also, jelly Hanako of Nene’s suitors😏... Oh, but nothing lasts forever and those sweet moments will come to an end when they have to face their cruel reality, in this world, they don’t get to choose neither their battles or the ones they love.

Now more of Roxanne, because I seriously enjoy her work so much (I’m sure everyone knows by now lmao sdkj) 

Night of the Phantom King by lilaflo 

This one is a spooky one. Nene’s regret for never realizing who she truly loves takes her to mourn her deceased friend Amane and cry on his grave in a Halloween night, then suddenly the Phantom King comes to take her away👀 & he looks suspiciously familiar... Beautiful world building btw, also the ending is just, excellent. 

12 Year Romance by lilaflo

Amane meets Nene at the Tanabata festival, she’s older than him, but he falls for her instantly, fast forward, Amane is now in middle school, he’s a troublemaker, & gets constantly into fights, but he swears the new school nurse looks familiar... he then realizes it’s her and thinks it must be fate!!!... This one hits close to home bc I’ve been in this situation irl, so I can confirm all of Nene’s struggles are real (and ofc how a love with an age gap should be handled the correct way, this fic really teaches you many life lessons hahaha) 

took a sip then another sip, then you turned and said to me by chivalrousamour 

This autor has a bunch of good JSHK fics!! I recommend you check their AO3 out, bec you may find something you like for sure! But, this is my absolute fav from them. Nene is a mangaka, celebrating the finishing of her long serialized manga, while Amane is a delivery boy who happens to find her in a very questionable state in her house👀 (it’s all family friendly ofc, anon, I’m not a slimy pervert like some ghost boy)

Maid for Each Other by corologs ( @corologs )

Courtney has this amazing College AU collection series that I encourage you to check out!!! But Maid for each other is my fav!!! So it’s the Yugi twins birthday, and it’s Tsukasa’s turn to choose where they go to celebrate it... you can already tell where this is going... (let the chaos begin) & as the title said, it involves maids!!! (it has Kaicho wa maid sama vibes if you liked that anime~~)

If I Could Tell Her by corologs

What if the picture perfect arc plan was successful??? Well, this fic explores this idea, and it’s very interesting to read. I like how Amane and Hanako are two separate people here.

the horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes by sincerelyand ( @sunlightinourheadlights ) 

(Oh my sweet Karen, she writes such good fics, so go check her AO3 out as well!!) Amane and Yashiro are friends that share an apartment (& they were roommates-- OMG they were roommates), even if Amane has its complains, because Nene can be a handful sometimes (and in denial of her true feelings as always, are we even surprised at this point?) he loves her dearly anyways😭.

for real, this time by sourlemoncandy  ( @sour-lemon-candy )

Did somebody say fake dating AU?????? Because hell yeah I did asajj I loved reading this so much!! Nene and Amane are childhood friends, and Nene overhears some girls talking about Amane and how one of them plans to ask him out... but she senses these girls are up to no good so she... well, you gotta read it to find out more~~ it’s no fun If I tell ya everything hehe... so go go go!!

lemon cream by sourlemoncandy

Amane and Nene, just two good friends having a road trip and sharing donuts... what could go wrong??  😏 seriously, I loved this fic so much!! Instant fav! Also makes me wanna try some good sweet donuts...

Trip Down Memory Lane by insipidenvy ( @insipidenvy )

This fic is so sweet. I have such a huge attachment to it, because I read it when I really needed some fluff in my life hahaha. It’s sort of a collection of memories between Amane and Yashiro’s relationship over the years. So heartwarming... if you need the fluffs you’ll enjoy this very much!!

The Radish Princess and the Toilet Prince by insipidenvy

This is my favorite fic from insipidenvy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know how I am a slut for Royalty AUs so that’s why!!!!! Also Toilet Prince!! hahahaha such a good nickname lmao. I love how they bond over their insecurities, it’s very relatable tbh. 

Between Wind and Water by WingSongHalo  ( @wingsonghalo )

My beautiful Wing always delivering the good Hananene content, as she should!! This fic is so fun to read!! I laughed so hard at Nene and Hanako being awkward with each other!!! So you know how Hanako is super clingy with Nene, he’s always touching & hugging her, but this time something weird happens and he’s so distant~~ Nene doesn’t want to admit it at first, but she misses his clingy ghost boy~~ you’ll have a good time reading this for sure!  

The Monster's Bride by Hammsters ( @uglierdaikon )

Have you heard about the myth of Cupid and Psyche? Well this fic rewrites it in a very Hananene way <3 hehe I loved it so much (as I’m a huge fan of mythology~) To sum it up, Nene is fated to marry a monster that lives in the mountains so she’s devastated... to her surprise, her husband is far from what she expected... she only had one rule to obey and well... we all know how reckless Nene is so... you go find out what happens next now!! hehehe

Morning Reflections by FalalalaLa  ( @miss-sternennacht )

So you’ve heard of Hanako watching Nene sleep, but what about Nene watching Amane sleep???!! this fic offers you this and so much more fluff <3 Also Nene remembering how they met and how their relationship evolved during the years, aww <3 

Cursed Coin by DaikonSenpai  ( @daikonsenpai )

There’s a school dance, Yashiro’s supposed to be dancing with Kou (since she can’t go with Hanako, which causes him to be jelly~~ and bitter), but she loses a coin Aoi gave her for good luck so she goes out and searches for it on the last place she saw it, the school fountain. Suddenly Hanako spots her, what’s she doing outside??? is she drunk or something?? what happens next you may find out when you read it~~~

Between Love and Hope by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin) ( @baronesscmd )

Oh to be Nene and get to sleep between the Yugi twins... God really has favorites uh... ISTG, this collection of fics is so cute. I love how Nene loves the twins so much in this AU, they have their little cute family. She ofc is in love with Amane, but their relationship with Tsukasa is so tender... it’s mostly this trio having fluffy moments together to heal your soul... if you need some, you’ll get it here for sure hahaha. 

Ghost of You (And All the Futures We've Forgotten) by Indigo_Floof  milkteamoon  ( @indigosienna , @spades-queen )

So anon you may have been wondering, well this bitch likes fluff only???? how about some angst for a change, uh? DAMN, OKAY THEN, here you have some angst to rip your soul out and wish you never sent me this ask in the 1st place, bec of the emotional damage this fic will leave you sdajjsa, also if you liked “Erased”, you’ll love this fic too! 

Hanako of the Opera by zxrstan

Finally, but not less important, me being annoying about Hanako of the Opera & POTO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! This fic is based of the AU Aidairo created mostly, it’s really fun to read if you didn’t get much of what was happening during the Hanako of the Opera event, it has a nice ending also! very satisfying I must say. 

AAAAND THIS IS THE END OF MY ALL TIME FAV LIST OMG;;;; Kudos for me for searching through all my damn AO3 and Google Chrome history (from both my PC and phone, since I am a FOOL and forgot my AO3 password so I read a lot of these in the past as a guest before recovering my password LMAO, please be patient with me omg, and also if you see me bookmarking them now, you know why 😭) 

Kudos to all of my writer homies as well, I love and appreciate all of you so much!! you have no idea! 💖

I hope you find this list useful, anon!! Thank you for sending me this ask and have a wonderful day! 

Ps. Please everyone feel free to add more fics to this list if you want! this is all my personal picks, but I’m aware there are a lot more fics that I haven’t read and deserve as much recognition as the ones I listed!

[ceoofuwu]

𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 ;; 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟔𝐤

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you may be Bakugo’s sister but, no one in U.A. had ever known about your existence, until you decided to pay a visit... little did you know that Bakugo wasn’t the only familiar person there...

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: cursing (there’s Bakugo here, you shouldn’t expect any less lmao)

«What?! Bakugo has a sister?!» Mina exclaimed as she entered the living room, hardly having heard the rest of the discussion.

She sat herself cheerfully next to Kirishima, who had actually made space for her, quite eager to keep up with the gossip.

Not that she didn’t have every reason to. Bakugo was mysterious, kept things simple and to himself, always maintaining a distant and goal-oriented attitude, which didn’t allow for much personal investment. Therefore, wasn’t it reasonable for any given “friend” of his to be bound by curiosity?

«Oh shut up! As if you should care, raccoon eyes» he retorted coldly, with a casual murderous glare following shortly.

However, with her happy-go-lucky mindset and the habit of ignorantly listening to the merciless insults of the young hero, the pinkette didn’t mind him at all.

«I should, because when I become a pro hero, she might use some rescuing from me!» she announced, pointing to her gleeful self.

«Thanks, but I believe I can manage on my own».

A smooth, velvet voice cut through the room as the tapping of graceful steps reverberated.  A pair of delicate legs strolling confidently, accompanying a perfectly-shaped body giving off waves of tremendous fortitude.

During the time Mina had spent in the Academy, she had never witnessed, not once Bakugo, the Bakugo, expressing his fear. Now, in the face of his sister, he was wearing a mask of exactly that feeling; terror.

«Is that… are you…» she attempted, feeling solely gaps of air leaving her mouth in stupefaction.

You ceased your pacing, offering everyone a friendly smile, escorted with a gentle wave of your hand.

«Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Y/n».

«…you can also call her dumbass» Bakugo mumbled between clenched teeth, intending to make an impression of dominance but also wishing to hide from the tyrant of a woman opposite of him.

«Shut your hole boom-boom idiot!»

An array of giggles filled the air, lighting up the ambiance and therefore breaking the ice, before you noticed a black-haired boy observing you in what seemed to be… dread?

«So she’s also taken after your terribly unhealthy anger issues, huh?» his eyes shifted to your smirking brother while he spoke in a modest and careful voice, as if he had selected his words with extreme cautiousness, one by one.

Another polite smile tugged at your lips, despite feeling quite displeased by your first impression. «I’m nothing like this walking temper tantrum», your gaze travelled around the room, inspecting it and gradually getting used to the surroundings, «…so you are his class… mates…»  your voice slowly faded away as you met with one specific, too familiar person in the room.

It couldn’t be… he couldn’t be here… or, could he? As far as you’re concerned you’re completely sane, which only means that you weren’t hallucinating. A lump had suddenly emerged in your throat and you’d swear your heart had skipped several beats upon realizing what was happening.

«Why the hell are you staring at dunce face?!» Bakugo yelled, fury steeping his features as the urge to protect you took over.

«Dunce… what?»

Denki slightly rolled his eyes, although he seemed to have gotten accustomed to his nickname, and sighed as he struggled to appear collected and unbothered.  «Me».

You scoffed and immediately covered your mouth with your hand, to prevent an inappropriate laughter from coming out. You didn’t really enjoy making fun of others, especially people like him who stood so close to you, but… this just sounded too fitting.

Denki blushed and immediately looked away, in his miserable attempt to be “discreet”.

«Do you guys know each other?» a familiar-looking redhead boy enquired, pointing between you and Denki. Your acquaintance had his mouth half-hanging open, as if he was about to say something, until he met with the frightful message in your look.

No.

You were quick to turn and face the redhead, with calmness written in your features and say: «Not at all, I mean… I hardly know any of you… um… Kirishima, isn’t it?»

The boy’s crimson eyes widened in surprise by the mention of his name.

Seems like I got it right.

«My brother tends to mention you a lot at home…» yet another wave of surprise washing over him, «…mostly how shitty your hair is…» you paused and pondered a little on your words, «…although I beg to differ» you beamed.

Kirishima’s face resembled a mixture of contentedness and dejection. You supposed and hoped that the former was on you.

Even so, for some odd reason, Bakugo was still keeping an eye on Denki. Not that the latter was acting with any prudence whatsoever, what with his nervously avoiding everyone’s eyes in the room.

«So… um… is there a bathroom… somewhere around here..?» you asked timidly, feeling the need to freshen yourself up and relieve some of the tension of this fairly messed up situation.

Soon after, thanks to your brother’s interference, you arrested yourself in that longed-for bathroom, taking a breather in silence and clearing your mind.

Before arriving at U.A. you weren’t really sure how to feel. On the one hand, you genuinely anticipated finally meeting all those amazing, gifted teens that had got themselves involved into so many scandalous episodes. On the other hand, you were doubting your social capabilities of interaction and trembled at the mere thought of stumbling over your words, or making a mess of something as simple a task as that, in general. In fact, an array of worst case scenarios was bombarding your head, even until the second you stepped your foot in that room.

However, discovering that Denki, your Denki, was actually one of the renowned class 1-A students?

That seemed nearly inconceivable to you.

Indeed, you had been dating with the guy for several months now, yet, without neither of you realizing, the hero studies topic had never been brought up; at least not in terms of specification.

So… Denki was a basically a hero… someone capable of coming to your rescue at any given moment… a hero…

«I hope you’re lost in your thoughts about me» an all too familiar voice was heard from the door.

Speak of the devil and the devil will come.

«Denki, what the hell?! How-- why did you come here?!» you called frantically, all the while taking alarming looks around to make sure your privacy was guaranteed.

«Don’t panic. We’re alone. Besides, my dorm is nearby~» he chimed, taking small steps closer to you simultaneously.

«So you used your dorm as an excuse to…?»

«Don’t play dumb, Y/n… you know better than anyone why I’m here…» your boyfriend whispered while slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his slim body.

You felt the temperature rising in your cheeks and your mind suddenly going blank, as though a fuzzy mist had been blurring everything. You had decided to come here merely to relax before proceeding to make new acquaintances. You couldn’t figure out whether this was happening due to Denki being one hell of a horny pervert or his being a complete and utter idiot. Come to think of it, both statements were suitable at the moment.

In the meantime, Denki was ranting about his plans, his dorm and many other stuff that you didn’t care too much to pay attention to.

«You are a dunce face» you giggled, trying not to focus too much on his golden gaze, which almost pierced holes through your own eyes.

«What did you say?» his face was beginning to distort into a suggestive expression, his lips gradually stretching into a devilish smile.

«You… are… a dunce face» you repeated teasingly and more confidently this time, despite feeling the embarrassment crawling up on you on the inside.

«A dunce face…» he hummed after you, before pushing you gently against a wall, with you hardly realizing, «I wonder where you picked that up from…» he teased, his fingertips sliding underneath your shirt grazing your back, sending minor waves of electricity down your spine with every brush whilst eliciting slight gasps.

Your lust-blown eyes remained locked the entire time, forming some kind of connection, as your breaths were little by little merging into one and the space between you was getting smaller by every second passing. You couldn’t hold your urgencies back anymore; your arms glided on his shoulders, eventually getting wrapped around his neck, as your head titled to the side allowing to the blonde to lean in and touch his lips on yours.  

The subtle electroshocks being produced on your back combined with the feeling of soft lips dancing with even softer ones, wasn’t aiding you at all to restrain that low, throaty moan that escaped from your vocals.

The kiss was slow and yet, steeped with passion, dripping with all these raw emotions that were generated every time you’d encounter one another. Denki had you melting, desperately hanging on to him, as if he was your life line. As he nibbled on your bottom lip, you broke apart, both panting, your lungs burning for air, prior to your foreheads touching intimately, trying to calm your rapidly beating hearts.

«You should lock that doo—«

«GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF HER, DUNCE FACE!»

Before you even had the time to process what had just happened, Denki had done a runner, sprinting as fast as he could as he was being chased down by an infuriated Bakugo. It’s a pity you were marooned like this but, oh well, he was the one who had left the door unclosed….

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

[anothertimdrakestan]

Burn (Tim Drake x Reader) angst????

Words: 1.6k

Req: Hello!! May I request Tim x reader angst?? The song “Burn” from Hamilton is stuck in my head so why not put it into context with Tim cheating on reader?? Thanks and bring on the pain..

omg i love this song and im shit at angst but you only get better from trying right??? so lmk how i did i tried lmao hope you enjoy!

You dove into Bart’s chest as the tears began falling. “Just say it’s not true, say I’m wrong. Just say it” you clutched the fabric of his shirt while he stayed silent, his arms rubbing your back. “I- we- we all thought you guys were over I didn’t realize I would’ve said something but he was so secretive” Bart murmured while you let the sobs wrack your body. 

“All the nights he didn’t come home from the tower he was with her?” You began, pushing Bart away while you felt like tearing your hair out. “Every time he left me on read he probably wasn’t even the person I was texting” you continued spitting out the words in such a way that Bart was flinching at your delivery. “And now, when he needs a fucking reason to be out of Gotham he’s on a trip with her? Just leaving me here like it’s nothing? Like everything we had was just a fun little power trip for him?” you were yelling by now. 

“No- I mean yeah, Tim’s an idiot. But maybe it’s not true, maybe you just need to talk to him or something” Bart piped up, your head whipped around. “Yeah? Who am I gonna talk to? Mr. Taking My New Girlfriend On A Getaway Trip? You know he didn’t take me anywhere. Months. I begged for a day together and he was just too busy. He’s not too busy for her though, clearly she’s everything I’m not.” your anger was seeping from you slowly, the realization that every time he told you he was yours he was probably sharing rooms at the tower with her. “god FUCK how long has this been going on? It’s been like a month since he moved in to the tower- dammit! My friends told me this long distance bullshit doesn’t work but ‘oh y/n we’re perfect it’ll be fine! I’ll fly home all the time! We can call every night’ that turned out great didn’t it.” you felt the hot angry tears get replaced with the slow rolling tears that reminded you once again you weren’t good enough to be kept around.

“Do you- maybe- wanna talk to him?” Bart was clearly terrified of you but you appreciated his help. “B, what good is that gonna do? You know Tim as well as- better than me. He’ll give me a shitty excuse that it was ‘for the greater good’ or that I’m ‘just looking at it wrong’ you know he’s better with words than either of us he could run- dammit he has run circles around me like a fucking toy” you had begun scrolling through your phone wondering how many texts got copied and pasted to another text thread with someone he probably cared about more than you.

“So, what are you gonna do then?” Bart had sat next to you on the floor, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while you scrolled through text after text noticing every red flag or lazy text. “Y/n that’s not good to be looking at, you’ve gotta block him or something” Bart whispered, staring at your screen probably reading every message in slow motion. 

“It’s not just the messages I’ll be blocking” you whispered, letting the seething anger slide back in. In what Bart would describe as almost super human speed you began the descent to freedom, blocking, unfollowing, and deleting almost everything that was reminiscent of you and Tim. Then you got to your main instagram account. “Fuck it” you whispered, unfollowing him knowing that tabloids would be starting the smear campaign now. 

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders at an immeasurable price- the price of heartbreak which you’ll be indebted to for a long time. 

~a week later~

“I have really got to buy myself some damn pajamas” you groaned to yourself, pushing down the little lovesick demon in your head that was telling you it was okay to keep sleeping in Tim’s hoodies and sweats because maybe he’ll apologize and you can take him back and be in love again and- not gonna happen. The celebrity magazines had been lurking near your apartment for days now, waiting to hear the newest gossip and find out what truly happened as you’d been radio silent- only adding to the interest of the paparazzi. As you realized you had to go outside today you prepared yourself for the onslaught of questions. 

“Y/N L/N WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU AND MR. DRAKE-WAYNE?” “MISS Y/N WHY THE UNFOLLOW?” “HAVE YOU BEEN SEEING HIS RECENT POSTS? WHO IS THE MYSTERY GIRL?” you cringed at the last question, reminding yourself that his actions didn’t matter as he hadn’t truly been a part of your life for months. 

Before you could get into the black SUV waiting for you, you were stopped and trapped until you spoke into the microphone in front of you. “Anything you can give us on Tim Drake-Wayne and you?” you took a small breath, willing yourself to stay calm. “I’m sorry I simply just don’t know who that is” you smiled between your words, using the confused moment on the questioner’s face to slip into the car and drive off, finally letting you exhale the breath you’d been holding in. 

~two weeks later~

You almost threw up at the sound of a once familiar knock on your door. 

“Y/n, y/n I know you’re here let me in we’ve gotta talk” his voice pleaded from your hallway. After three deep breaths and promises to yourself to stay strong you opened the door. Tim looked normal, it was horrible. You had been fighting to look that normal and were barely holding together but here he was, wearing the shirt he wore the night he told you he loved you with the ever present stern look like nothing had ever gone wrong. He moved to come inside but you blocked his path. “We can talk out here. I don’t have much to say” you hissed, watching him sheepishly back off. “Y/n I just wanted a chance to explain and give my side and-” you cut him off. “Apologize. You’re here to apologize and if you aren’t you’d better leave now” you were screaming and sobbing and melting down internally but you held your composure. 

“Well, yeah, that too. But also we need to issue a public statement because yaknow it’s kinda been going so fast and I think if we could just sit down and work everything out we could stay on better terms because I am so sorry love” you flinched against your own will at the familiar nickname. You took a second to remind yourself that he was again just using his words to get the better of you, you were not going to fall for the same trick twice. “There’s no statement Tim, I’m not clearing your name or coming to your side- hell, I’m going to go work with fucking lexcorp so you won’t even have to worry about seeing me at the office. You and I are separate entities, you broke that relationship when you began the lies and the goddamn cheating, there’s no public statement I’d make that would put you in a better light you’re lucky as hell that this is all I’m saying got it?” you watched him flinch at your words and against all your control you could feel your body begging you to hug him and kiss away the pain like you’d done for months on months. 

“Y/n I want to apologize, I should’ve never- it- it was a lapse in judgement but I want to make it right” Tim pleaded, you watched his facade falter, like he truly felt sorry. “That’s great Tim, I’ll try to remember that when I remember all the nights you said you were stuck at the tower with work when you were with her okay? Sound good? You have a good one okay?” you feigned a smile, shutting the door and crumpling to the ground. 

You let yourself cry silently, burying your head in your hands. Your heart was heavy, it had been learning to beat on it’s own now, not to the beat of Tim’s and it hurt. But it was done? Not really. Not when you’re in the public eye, running a business that would eventually have to work with Wayne Ent. it wouldn’t ever truly be over. Your body was practically turning in on itself, your throat burning as you held in sobs, refusing to let anyone know how deeply this wound would scar. A scar so jagged and deep you feared if would keep your heart permanently broken. 

So how does it end? Because this was supposed to be the closure everyone said you needed. Where you give him a slap in the face for hurting you, telling him to ‘fuck off’ and instantly the pain subsides. But the pain was so intense and raw nothing felt soothing anymore. In a span of weeks you’d lost friends, hell- you’d lost family, and you’d lost love. Because no matter how hard you try to pry the words he said from your brain they creep back in. Nights when he’d call you from the Tower and explain how much he missed you and how perfect you were, days when you got texts about how he missed kissing every inch of your face, memories of the beautiful moments you’d had together that you figured you’d be telling your kids about. Those don’t just die with the relationship. They fester and they boil into your skin, they run through your veins, they flash in your head, reminding you that even when you gave every ounce of love you could muster you still weren’t enough. That’s what will forever stick. So it doesn’t every truly end does it?

Because you can’t burn away scares without leaving a deeper wound. And your wounds were deeper than you could fathom. Your wounds had just simply broken you. 

Tim Drake had broken you. 

So how the fuck do you get fixed?

[darling-i-read-it]

And the Woman Clothed in Sun

3x10

Hannibal Lecter x reader x Will Graham 

Hannibal Re-Write Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.3k 

Warnings: spoilers for hannibal, murder, pregnancy 

Author’s Note: I am half asleep. I really hope this makes sense. This is short too which super sucks but there was a lot fo Francis in this episode that I cut out because thats boring because the reader isn’t in it lmao 

I used some direct quotes from the script so some things may seem familiar 

Official Episode Summary: Carving retrieved from crime scenes help Will and the FBI learn about Francis Dolarhyde's psychology; Dolarhyde finds a way to communicate with Hannibal.

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director 

Tag List (is always open!) : @llperfectsymmetryll​ @ericacactus​ @vlightning95​ @sweetgoodangel​

(not my gif) 

You stared down at the bathroom counter. You looked back up at yourself in the mirror and took a long, deep breath. This wasn’t ideal. This was not ideal. You didn’t want this right now, you didn’t need it right now. 

Will had gone out to get you breakfast and you wanted to test the suspicion you had picked up the night before. Will had been talking about children and it got your mind reeling. You got up early to get a pregnancy test, just to try it, just in case. 

The face staring back at you in the mirror was scared. She wasn’t easily scared. She just wasn’t ready to be a mother. You turned on the faucet and splashed some water in your face. 

At the sound of the door opening you quickly grabbed the two pregnancy tests you had taken and shoved them in your purse that was sitting on the counter. You forced your nerves away. You weren’t ready for Will to know this quite yet, especially not after last night and his nightmares. 

“Coffee,” he called, holding up a bag of food and tray of coffee cups.

“You’re a godsend Will Graham.”

“I do what I can.” 

-

Francis Dolarhyde sat at Hannibal’s desk. The desk must have held many memories when it came to the killer. Francis was amazed that he was there, Hannibal on the phone with him. He had never really actually thought they would talk to each other. And yet, here he was. 

“I have admired you for years and have a complete collection of your press notices. Actually, I think of them as unfair reviews,” Francis said. He looked in front of him at the office. He imagined himself sitting there, across from Hannibal, like a patient. 

“As unfair as yours?” Hannibal thought about how to angle this. “They like to sling demeaning nicknames, don’t they?” 

“The Tooth Fairy,” Francis sneered. 

“What could be more inappropriate?” Hannibal questioned.

“It would shame me for you to see that, if I didn’t know you suffered the same distortions in the press.”

“It happens to the best of us,” Hannibal promised. Francis thought about this. The clippings he had read and re-read of Hannibal always mentioned the Grahams. The Bloody Valentines. 

“Yes, I suppose it has to.” 

-

“I don’t think I’ve been here since you last taught,” you whispered. You stood outside one of the FBI’s lecture rooms with Will. You could hear the echo of Bedelias voice inside. 

“You had to bring that up,” Will muttered with a fond remembrance of a smile. “Hey, I used to love your lectures. They were interesting.”

“You liked to tease me as much as you could,” he argued. You shrugged.

“I thought it added to the entertainment. Come on.” 

The two of you walked into the room together. It was packed but Bedelia was about to be finished. You had planned to come and see her when she would be alone but catching the tail end of her Hannibal lecture was alright too. 

“Days and evenings again, the smell of fresh flowers and the vague awareness of a needle bleeding into me. Hannibal always stood at a distance, very still. There were days of talk. He never called me my name.” She recognized you and Will as you stepped into the room. She moved slowly around her podium. “It was strange at first, and then it wasn’t strange. And then my name was Lydia Fell. Deeply-felt truths of who I am as bedelia Du Maurier were smoke and mirrors of the highest order.” 

You and Will stepped into the crowd and sat down. Bedelia walked over to you and the audience followed her, ears engulfing what she was saying. 

“What we take for granted about our sense of self, everything we see, everything we remember, is nothing more than a construct of the mind.” Will eyed her with an uneasy mix of skepticism and sympathy. “Dante was the first to conceive of hell as a planned place. An urban environment. Before Dante, we spoke not of the ‘Gates of Hell’, but the ‘Mouth of Hell’. My journey of damnation began when I was swallowed by the beast.” 

-

The class wrapped up quickly and the rest of the room emptied. You and Will stood up and waited for them to leave. Eventually, when they were gone, Will spoke. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his glasses laid perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

“Poor Dr. Du Maurier, swallowed whole. Suffering inside Hannibal Lecter’s bowels for what must have felt like an eternity.” You smiled smugly at his words. “You didn’t lose yourself, Bedelia, you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn’t be bothered.” 

“Hello Grahams.” 

“You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster,” you said with that same smile. 

“You’re the Bride of Frankenstein,” Will said. Bedelia looked at you, eyeing you carefully.

“We’ve all been his bride,” she said and ignored the thoughts creeping up to her. 

“How did you manage to walk away unscarred? We’re covered with scars,” Will said. Bedelia still dodged the question completely because she knew how and you knew how. It was becoming increasingly clear that you had not told Will about how Hannibal actually saw Bedelia in Florence. 

“I wasn’t myself. You were. Even when you weren’t, you were Will.”

“I wasn’t wearing adequate armor.” 

“No. You were naked,” she said. “Have you been to see him?” You and Will shared a look.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Haven't’ learned anything, have you? Or did you just miss him that much?” 

-

Bedelia’s home office was strangely homey. You hadn’t expected that kind of thing from her, considering how stoic you read her to be on occasions. You weren’t sure how you felt about it. But Will had insisted that you come along. The last time he talked to a therapist by himself it ended up in more murders than he had planned. 

“If he does end up eating you, Bedelia, you’d have it coming,” Will said. 

“I can’t blame him for doing what evolution has equipped him to do,” she argued. 

“If we just do whatever evolution equipped us to do, then murder and cannibalism are morally acceptable,” you said . 

“They are acceptable. To murderers and cannibals. And you two,” she mused.

“And you,” Will shot back. “You lied, Bedelia. You do that a lot. Why do you do that a lot?” he asked. She and you shared a look. 

“I obfuscate. Hannibal was never not my patient. Covert treatment suffers secrecy and disapproval,” she said. You shook your head lightly.

“You lied in your lecture. To others. You lied to the police,” you said. She and you stared at each other and that was the first moment that Will understood there was something he didn’t actually know. He looked between the two of you. 

“My relationship with Hannibal isn’t as passionate as yours,” she said. “Did you ever discuss why I’m alive?” she asked at you. You and Hannibal had only talked about it once, in front of the painting back in Florence. Will had been so wrapped up in his head then that he didn’t even register it as something he should have noted. 

“You tell those people that you believed you were Lydia Fell which is a lie in and of itself. But then you let Will believe that you just were out of dodge because Hannibal liked you. But that’s not true is it?” you asked. She pursed her lips. You stared so intently at each other that Will felt as though he wasn’t even there. 

“You know how I lived because I wasn’t the first woman that Hannibal imagined as you,” she said. You raised your chin and gave her an amusing look. 

“Bedelia Du Maurier, Alana Bloom…,” you whispered. Will was picking up the hints now. He understood now. “He needed companionship.”

“No, he needed you,” she argued. “But he could never have you because you were Will’s and he cared far too much for Will to take you. Do you realize the extent of your reach?” You surpressed your pride.

“Why don’t you tell me?” you challenged. 

“I used to wash his hair when he came home, drenched in blood. He whispered your name when he forgot who I was. Can you imagine, having so much hold over a person who is usually so contained? I was amazed. From a professional standpoint, I was amazed.” She glanced at Will who was hearing all of this for the first time. “He used to bring people over for dinner and when he killed a man he asked if I wanted to participate, knowing I wouldn’t but knowing you would.” 

Bedelia smiled gently. 

“It’s a good thing that you married each other. Hannibal’s place things, linked for life.” She looked over at Will. “You couldn’t save him. Do you think you can save this new one?” 

-

You and Will sat in the car together in the parking lot of the hospital Hannibal was being held at. You had been quiet the whole way there.

“You knew about all of that? All of what Bedelia was saying?” he asked. He looked over at you but you looked only forward. 

“I figured most of it. I knew he dated Alana to spite me, he told me once when you were in jail that Alana was easier to sleep with.” You scoffed. “But I only ever thought about it in correlation to Bedelia. I knew she was lying all around,” you whispered. Finally, you looked over at him.

“Should you stay in the car?” he asked. You shook your head.

“That was ages ago,” you promised. “Don’t even think about it.” 

“I have to think about it because I can’t knowingly take my wife to go talk to the man who fantasized about being with her for practically two years,” he said calmly. 

“What’s he gonna do in the cage Will?” 

He thought about this for a moment. He went to open the door but you grabbed his hand. He looked over at you quickly and noticed you seemed to be holding something back. That irked him.

“What else have you not told me?” You looked over at him and wondered if you should tell him. You had to tell him. You wanted him to know. You needed him to know so that he could help you. You grabbed your purse and fished out the pregnancy test before handing it to him. 

It took him a moment. He looked down at it and his brain, usually so quick, did not realize what that small pink symbol meant. Then it all came at him. Slowly, he looked up at you.

“Are you messing with me?”

“No,” you said nervously. He was quiet. “Well?” He looked up at you and read your worry. He had made you nervous and it made him feel bad. He wasn’t nervous about being a parent with you he was nervous about the baby.

“Oh my gosh,” he said and a smile creeped onto his face. 

“You don’t hate it?” 

“No! Not at all? I mean...” he trailed off and there were the nerves again but you grabbed his hand and held it. 

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” He took your hand and kissed your palm gently, shaking a bit. He was going to be a father. Him. He was amazed. 

“Well now I’m defiantly not letting you come with me.” 

“I’m not going to tell Hannibal. Not yet anyway. It would look suspicious. Come on.” 

-

Will stood in front of the cage, just inches from Hannibal. You stood right beside them, leaning against the glass.

“Are you familiar with William Blake’s The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun? Blake’s Dragon stands over a pleading woman caught in the coil of its tail. Few images in Western art radiate such a unique and nightmarish charge of demonic sexuality,” Hannibal said, holding the crime scene photos. 

“The man who killed the Jacobis and the Leedses saw something in them that drew him and drove him to do it. He chose them because something in them spoke to him,” Will said.

“The Jacobis were the first to help him, the first to lift him into the Glory of his Becoming. The Jacbois were better than anything he knew,” Hannibal explained.

“Until the Leedses,” you muttered.

“As the Dragon grows in strength and Glory, there are families to come.”  

“I have to believe there is a common factor and we’ll find it soon,” Will said steadily. 

“Otherwise you have to enter more houses and see what the Dragon has left for you. Eleven days to the next full moon. Tick-tock.” Hannibal looked over at you. “I like this Dragon. I don’t think he’s crazy at all. I think he may be quite sane.” 

“I think that your opinion on his sanity is subjective,” you said. 

-

You and Will walked into the museum together, up to where they kept the important painting. 

“This way, Mr. and Mrs. Graham. You know, you’re the second group who’s asked to see the Blake today,” the tour guide said steadily. You stiffened and Will gave you a look. He took his glasses off slowly and you took them from him, putting them in the case you were holding in your jacket. 

As you reached the level where the painting was you grew unsettled. 

Will grabbed your arm. He had seen something that you hadn’t and now that you were two, he had extra reasons to be paying attention to it all.  You turned around and the tour guide left the room to go find his colleague. The elevator was still open and Will pushed you gently out of the way. 

Before you could protest, Will caught the closing elevator door. There was a moment of silence as the man in the elevator stared at Will and then he attacked him, shoving him to the ground. 

You rushed to Will first who was pointing eagerly at the elevator but before you were able to stop it it closed. 

“Are you okay?” you asked quickly.

“Yes, downstairs,” he said even quicker. You and him got up and rushed downstairs but by the time you reached the final flour, he was gone.

3x11

[charcubed]

.

fine fuck it I’m making this a post rather than a tag rant because it was too long for tags and I hit publish and tumblr cut it off halfway sjdknfsjdf

(since this is an Actual Post now people can perceive: this is about Jensen’s IG caption today)

----

I need to say this somewhere publicly because I am slowly going insane:

Talking about / being excited about what celebrities choose to share with us about their private lives is very different in group chats or on Tumblr vs on a super public place like Twitter. Like FIRSTLY I do not know how to explain to people that the concept of “fangirling” over celebrities' lives at all is inherently a pushing of boundaries... and something none of us should be doing at all, quite frankly. THAT BEING SAID, yes I fully get it and I too am by far not immune to being excited when faves interact or are friends or collab or are in love or WHATEVER. People are fans of celebrities, this happens, etc. But objectively speaking it is weird that we get excited about any of that?? Like it shouldn't... matter. And I mention that in this context because imagine you were a celebrity and saw your relationships with people (platonic or otherwise) being ~celebrated~ by random strangers on the Internet. I personally would feel weird?? 

But ANYWAY, this is not to say that the idea of being happy about celebrity interactions / statements is inherently bad! Not really! But the APPROACH PEOPLE TAKE WITH THAT DOES IN FACT MATTER, AS WELL AS WHERE THAT APPROACH IS TAKEN. For example: Twitter is often not the place for it. Or more specifically: yes I'm sorry saying something like “reply ____ to trend it” about celebrities' LIVES is fucking weird. Whether or not you say it's harmless and “oh it won't actually trend”? Things have trended accidentally for less. 

And yes let me just show my hand: this is about 'Mish. Dee.' on Jensen’s post. (Which–not that I need to explain myself or anything but–I absolutely adore but am adoring it IN PRIVATE CHATS not ON THE GODDAMN TIMELINE. Someone was like “just because you don’t get excited–” and I’m like... lmao. Anyway.) A fan on Twitter was like “reply Mish. Dee. to this tweet to trend it” and I was like ??? or we could NOT do that? And then apparently me saying that that was... a bad idea... seemed to be a hot take for some people.

And so: I cannot explain to people that yes it is weird to ~celebrate celebrity friendship~ (?) to the extent of ~trending~ harmless nicknames, jokingly or otherwise. But why is it weird? Aside from the fact that it’s weird on principle because it’s not our business, and because seriously what are you even trying to accomplish by “trending” that (?), this is why: Because you cannot control how other people may or may not behave surrounding the topic of these people's personal lives. (Such as people who talk about cockles on main like fucking maniacs.) Because posting about it on main IN THAT WAY (repeated keywords) inherently runs the risk of other parties seeing it, being like “what’s all this then?” and then picking it up and running with it further. (Such as bibros, journalists, etc.)

People who may be like “these nicknames aren’t news and it’s just for fun and we love them” are missing alllllll of the above as very real points to consider, because Twitter posts are not as harmless/anonymous/unseen as people think. (Please see: Bill Clinton thing.) AND ALSO–here is the part that I cannot say on main and especially on Twitter partially because I am aware that it makes me sound fucking insane–with these celebrities specifically, yeah, I think there’s a higher risk involved because they seem to be IN A QUEER POLY RELATIONSHIP AND ARE CLOSETED ABOUT THAT. 

Like... ohhhh my God... I literally live in fear of the day when some random journalist starts poking around and connects the dots that are out there and are VERY EASY TO CONNECT, and then somehow CORNERS ONE OF THEM IN AN INTERVIEW about it. ESPECIALLY JENSEN. Like, this is what happened to Lee Pace! This is how many people are forced to come out! Do y’all not realize that we are at all times a stone’s throw away from this becoming a problem, especially since Jensen is about to get even more famous through The Boys!

Putting any celebrities’ personal lives under a microscope, whether unintentionally or otherwise, is never a good idea. Those posts do not exist in a vacuum or echo chamber the way people seem to think. Shit can get out of hand on Twitter dot com very easily. And so I am just like... for the love of God... be mindful about what you say and where you say and HOW you say it. In the same way that sometimes talking about J and M without using their actual names to avoid keywords is a better course of action (because they trend at the drop of a hat out of nowhere! Seriously, people!)... avoiding deliberate repetition like having 200 PEOPLE REPLYING TO ONE TWEET WITH ‘Mish. Dee.’ is also a good thing to keep in mind.

This all applies to any celebrities! This is a blanket good and important thing to be mindful about! But my God it is extra good to keep in mind for the sake of what these specific people seemingly have got going on over there in their lives. If you love their love (whether platonic or otherwise) and Jensen’s extremely cute nickname use... then don’t make a big fuckin deal about it where other people can see, for the sake of their comfort levels and the privacy they are allowed to have as human beings and just !!!!! for the sake of not being openly weird about the lives and the relationships of strangers you don’t know personally on a public platform!!!!!!!! Screams

really hope no one is reading this whole post LMAO

at least it’s out of my system now I guess

[theodora3022]

Goddess(Yandere Mirio)

Posting again because weird internet connection last night ate it...

Pairing: (yandere?) Pro hero! Mirio x Villain? F!reader

Summary: You were once a powerful young hero with a wind quirk. After refusing Endeavor’s proposal, you were blacklisted from the hero community. Having no choice, you begun to work as an assassin. Slitting throats without hesitation as long as it is lucrative. That is when you run into Mirio, your former classmate again. You two were not close friends, although mirio is always friendly. He was ordered to take you down, so you expected a fierce fight. What you did not anticipate is how he invited you to come with him.

Notes: Yeah this is a Mirio take on the “Fairy” concept. I recently recieved a request for this, and I just want to say I am so happy you guys love this stupid little concept. Mirio still have his quirk in this fic, and Sir Night Eye is still alive. Reblogs are comments are greatly appreciated!!

You can also see this contains an pathetic attempt to write Endeavor, but I’m not cut out for that LMAO

Warnings: slight nsfw for hcs, abuse of power(not Mirio), stalking, non-con touching, suicide attempt, drugging

They say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons, and my darling

You were so beautiful

Before they dragged you into hell.

“You’re going to regret this decision.” That was what Endeavor said when you hand him the resignation with a straight face. However, You do not feel any regret whatsoever. You stayed silent as you began to walk out of that damned office, that courrpted agency. Paying no mind the flame man’s burning gaze on your back.

When you first started at Endeavor’s agency, you were excited. As a fresh UA Graduate, it is unusual for a top hero like Endeavor himself to offer you a position as a sidekick. It almost feels too good to be true. Well, turns out it is.

Used to loose clothing, you were shocked when your boss requested you to change your hero costume to a tight bodysuit. Being the good employee you were, you obeyed without questions. Then there are those little things, how Endeavor seems to favor you over his other subordinates, how he finds excuses to keep you near him at all times, most alarmingly, how he looks at your breasts and hips when he thought you did not notice.

You had doubts, but your boss is the No.1 hero! How can he possibly have sexual desires for a little girl like you? So you choose to ignore those red flags and carried on. Until he cornered you against the office door one day, when you came to report a minor robber you took care of earlier.

That is when you realize how you naïve you were. “Fire and winds, they go well together don’t they? I’m sure a child with those two quirks would be a powerful hero.” “Don’t touch me!” You said, almost screaming. He was pressed to a corner of his office by sudden strong currents, banging on the bookshelf that occupies it. Several books fell off, but he did not seem to bother. Even with his strength Endeavor cannot move forward a step. That pissed off look scares you, but you did allow yourself to flinch despite your trembling hands.

“You have no idea how many woman would die for an oppertunity like this.” 

“Then go find them, Sir. Sorry but I will never accept this offer.”

And that is how you ended up as a sellsword, instead of a hero. You work to get paid.

Your friends use to muse about how your impeccable speed would be perfect for an assassin, and that is what you are now. Slithering in the shadows, taking life for gold. Heroes and villains alike commissioned you due to your stealthy quirk and your incredible speed.You would not exactly count yourself as a villain, although the LoV had made offers to you in the past. You walk in that grey area of society, neither good nor bad. After Endeavor blacklisted you, no agency dared to hire you. None of them are willing to evoke his wrath. This is all his plan to make you submit, to accept the position of his compliant trophy wife, his personal baby factory. But you did not give in, even that means rejections and pity from those other heroes.  At last when your saving run out, you took up the LoV’s commission offer. The pay is generous, and you were in need. It is a win-win deal. Ever since you have been taking up jobs from both sides as long as the pay is good.

Your fifteen-year-old UA freshman self would never imagine becoming an assassin, but here you are, shaking hands with Kurogiri as you take the rest of the payment. They wanted you to join them, but you politely declined. You liked Toga and Spinner well enough, but some heroic part of you still cannot stand the idea of becoming a villain.

Regardless of being a mercenary, you still have your principles and morals. Aside from those contracts, you never took a life. You would still give up your seat to pregnant and elderly on the train, still picking up trash in parks. After finishing a job, you would hum little melodies as you pull the hood of your sweater over your blood-stained hair, fly home, maybe getting groceries on the way. You are merciful at what you do, always strike one lethal blow so the target would have minimal pain. Life is not easy, but you are certain this is so much better then being trapped in a manor as a housewife. Occasionally, some sketchy bounty hunter would manage to get to you, although you can always outrun them.

Mirio has a problem. It was...about a mission, concerning you.

What lies on his desk, is a detailed file of you. You in the picture were still a hero back then, smiling at the camera. How can Mirio ever forget that sweet smile?

“If I’m not mistaken, (y/n) is your old schoolmate, correct?” “Yes, Sir.” “She has been lending strength to the League of Villains as a mercenary. That makes her a criminal, even though she takes up jobs from the commission as well. We need to get her back to our side, as her winds are strong, we cannot let the villains have that. Endeavor seem to be particularly enthusiastic about this idea, oddly. I think you should be the one to do it. You can pass through anything, even her winds. Find her, bring her back, use force if possible.”

Mirio always wondered what made you leave hero life, now he got the perfect opportunity to ask you! He has not seen you in forever, this could be a little cute reunion! To be perfectly honest to himself, Mirio had a minor crush on you back w in UA. But as students you both just focused on your studies, and he never confessed.

It took him a while to track down your whearabouts, but for Mirio it was not a hard task, as the Commission has your address of the bar you frequented to take up offers.

It was a cold night, you just finished a job in the rural area of Mustafu, cleansing your daggers in a little stream in the woods when he appeared before you. Damn, how did he approach you without the winds noticing?

To Mirio, how you crouch down by the stream, how your black clothes hugs every curve of your body and especially how you focused on washing the bloodstains off your knives were absolutely stunning. You were like the huntress goddess Artemis from the Greek legends, with how the moonlight gently pooling over your frame. It might sound weird, getting turned on by a girl washing her daggers, but Mirio somehow accepts the fact that his juvenile crush has not gone away. On the contrary, it has become stronger, strong enough to be classified as love or obsession.

Now he knows why Endeavor has been so enthusiastic about the idea of capturing you. Mirio can hardly take his eyes off you himself! You were even more breathtaking in your pitch-black assassin attire compare to your hero costume. As he always loves a good mythology story, seeing you like this awaken something in him. A beautiful goddess, through and through.

You are his goddess! How can you taint your hands with blood while you can be worshipped in the temples? Being a mercenary does not suit you. 

“Togata, what a surprise.” Seeing your old classmate again, you are more concerned then happy. This is a remote location, far away from any population, and he just sneaked up on you without notice. He laughs as he sees how you work up a defensive wind barrier, knowing it has no effect on permeation. Back in your schooldays he has always been a pain to defeat, since Mirio can even pass through air, your usual push away methods fail on him alone. Thankfully, he cannot fly. “Long time no see. Well, what brings you to this part of town?” Putting away your daggers back into your leather pouch, you managed to put up a polite smile even you dreaded his answer. If he is one of those bounty hunters-

“I came to see you, of course! You are so beautiful in these clothes.” Without warning, Mirio stepped close, the wind barrier does nothing to him. If this has been a normal reunion party, his words might just make you flush a bit. But this is a secluded forest.

Before you can think of a counter strategy, two big strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close towards the grinning blonde. You let out a scream as you try to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was futile. As a ranged combatant with high speed, strength was never your forte, neither is close up combat.

Why are you screaming? Don’t you see how he just want you to be treated well? This life is not for you! You deserve a loving family life, and Mirio is determined to provide that.

“Love, please do not scream. I don’t want to use a gag on you.” When you were distracted by his loving nickname, Mirio quickly slid a pair of quirk cancelling handcuffs on you.

“Let me go! Togata why are you doing this?” You are sure he has taken up the role of a bounty hunter. To your surprise, he released you from his clutches. But you were horrified to find your quirk has been restricted by those damned cuffs.

“Did Endeavor send you? I always know he is a piece of garbage, but you? Who can make my quirk useless?” Slowly backing away, trembling, you knew there is no change you can outrun Lemillion without your winds. Guess that is the end of free life. You rather be dead then be in Endeavor’s home. A quick slit can get the job done.

However, Mirio would never allow you to die. Before you can reach for your blades, he snatched the pouch out of your hands. “Endeavor? No, no. I’m not taking you to him. Don’t hurt yourself, angel.”

A wave of relief wash over you, then you hear Mirio’s words: “I’m taking you home, the commission has ordered me to make sure you don’t make any more deals with villains, and I agree. You deserve a peaceful life.”

Those are the last words you hear before blacking out from a strange, sweet scent. “Sorry to do this, my sweet, but you need to calm down and come home with me.”

As he held your unconscious body in his arms, Mirio promised himself that he will treasure you and give you the treatment you deserve. He finally found his goddess, he is not going to let go, never.

Bonus head canons:

You would wake up in Mirio’s fancy apartment, quirk cancelling collar around your neck, with mirio hugging you from behind in bed. His breath tickles your neck in the most terrifying way.

“Love, you’re finally awake! I was worrying about you overdosing.” That big smile, used to be a sign or reassurance during school days, now is a sight worthy for nightmares.

You would start kicking and screaming, wanting to get away from him.

“Togata let me go!” Your squirms are less then useless without your winds, but you have to try.

“It’s Mirio, lovely. Now how about we get you changed? I got you some pretty lingerie~”

You would shake your head and bite him, which...would result in him getting mad.

“I know it’s not right to use drugs, but you got to understand I did this all for you! That life is too dirty for someone like you, you deserved to be cherished. Lucky for you I am here to tend to all your needs.”

“But I- “ “No buts, sweetness. Now how about you get into one of those pretty outfits and show me how grateful you are? I did spare you that awful mercenary life, after all.”

You were not given a choice. Well, at least he cannot be worse then Endeavor, right? You can only gulp and comply, terrified of the alternative.

“My precious goddess...” He pulls you close, buring his nose in your hair. “I’m going to worship you so well that you forget about everything else.”

[99adelheid99]

cool so since I’m procrastinating anyways on my school work im just going to write a character study on beast! dazai

because I re read it and im sad and asagiri just loves to make everyone suffer

so spoilers for the beast au

((BTW IM SO SORRY TUMBLR MOBILE ISN’T LETTING ME CUT THE POST TO A READ MORE SO IM GOING TO TRY TO DO IT ON MY PC AND HOPE IT WORKS IF IT DOESNT IM SO SORRY;;;; ))

asagiri has already decided to make dazai a tragic character and break our hearts once, but he decided to also rip them out and spit on it.

in the canon world, we see dazai struggle through depression. ever since he was young he found there was no value in living as he says to mori in the fifteen arc. he tries throughout his life desperately to understand just why humans strive to live, why they fight so hard for their lives and work hard to live life to the fullest.

it’s no different in the many other worlds The Book had created, and that lonely hole in his chest is probably much bigger.

as explained by dazai in the light novel, the power of The Book does not effect him because of his ability, since The Book itself is an ability, dazai naturally cancels it out. because of this, dazai can practically “read his own memories” from the canon world. so he knows everything that happens in the original universe, that goes for every single dazai in every single au. every single one.

this in itself is probably one of the saddest things. if people not understanding dazai didn’t hurt enough in the canon world, imagine how horrible it is that the beast! dazai had suffer with this knowledge alone, because as mentioned, it’s not wise for a lot of people to know about The Book since the world they reside in will become unstable, and have a chance of disappearing.

at the end of the light novel we also learn of dazai’s plan. why he captured gin, and why he wanted to bring akutagawa and atsushi together.

it was for odasaku.

because dazai has the memories from his “original” self, he remember odasaku. he remembers how he died, he remembers that they were best friends, he remembers how odasaku was the only person who understood dazai to his core, he remember how much odasaku means to him.

but odasaku of this world doesn’t remember it at all. because to him it never happened. there is only the beast world and the beast world alone.

this is where the angst hits (harder lol)

dazai figures out (at some time idk when) that this is the only universe that odasaku survives (im not sure how exactly, im assuming he can read the memories of the other dazais? Idk)

he remembers odasakus passionate of becoming a writer, he remembers odasakus determination not to kill just so he could write his own novel.

and because I really do believe dazai has a heart shrouded in all that darkness, dazai wants the best for odasaku, dazai wants to make it so odasaku can continue to survive and write his novel.

so dazai being dazai makes this extremely elaborate extra ass plan to make sure it happens.

dazai knows that this world has a chance of disappearing since every time something is written down in The Book in any other au (I think? I believe it can be any one of them not just the canon one) The Book doesn’t create it out of nothing exactly, but borrows from other worlds to create what is written in the book to reality.

dazai’s afraid that this world might cease to exist, and if it does odasaku won’t get to write his novel in this only universe he survives in, odasaku won’t he happy and dazai doesnt want that.

now extra ass osamu here uses a lot of cruel tactics to get to his end goal, and it isn’t right at all, but I still have to sympathize because its just so painful lmao

during akutagawa and atsushi’s final battle, dazai goes to the lupin bar where he meets odasaku for the first time in this world. I feel like dazai fought with himself a lot not to visit odasaku during this time, probably wanting to do nothing else but to run to his old friend that he missed so damn much. and I think he couldnt resist in the end, I think he desperately wanted to see him one last time because from the very beginning he knew his own fate.

one of the many (lol) things that hurts me during this meeting is how dazai immediately jumps happily into conversation with odasaku when he sees him, how he invites him quickly to sit down with him (in which odasaku does but doesn’t sit right next to him, which seemingly hurts dazai, ouch my heart) and how he picks up conversation that dazai would normally have with odasaku in the real world, asking him if anything interesting happened to him that day or telling him about new suicide methods he tried, which leaves odasaku heavily confused as he kind of awkwardly replies to each question.

now because the pov during this scene is in oda’s, we don’t get know exactly what dazai is thinking, but oda describes his posture and reactions well for us to take a guess of how hard it is for dazai to not have probably the most important person in his life not know or care about him.

dazai tightening his grip around his glass, or dazai looking like a happy child in one second to trying to compose his emotion with a small smile in the next, these reactions happen when odasaku keeps bringing up how he doesn’t know dazai and how confused he is. and dazai trying to hold onto something, someone, who made him so happy. trying to ignore the pain he feels and grasp on to the good memories he has but odasaku doesn’t.

and then there’s the part in the bar that asagiri decided to write because he’s a writer and like all authors, lowkey likes to see his audience suffer.

when dazai calls oda by his nickname odasaku once again trying to get him to understand him, the man replies:

“Don’t call me Odasaku. There is no reason of an enemy to call me that.”

yeah I cried

I cried a lot

dazai’s reaction didn’t help either.

The young man suddenly seemed to have trouble breathing…He fought against something invisible.

in this world, dazai probably mastered concealing his emotions (he does in like every world, but he’s much more grim in this one so) he put up this wall and put on a mask for everyone but odasaku, he let his wall down and odasaku didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t bring him some sort of comfort like he did in the canon universe. not intentionally of course, not because odasaku was cruel, but odasaku didn’t know dazai as anything else but his enemy. for all he knows, dazai could be trying to manipulate him.

theyre enemies. they could never be friends in this world. but dazai seems to still try, even a little.

in the end, they part ways. dazai putting on that mask once again, and acting like this whole meeting didn’t just destroy him. because it would be worth it in the end, odasaku would live, be happy, write his novel.

dazai would suffer, but that’s okay. odasaku hates dazai, but that’s okay.

because odasaku is alive. odasaku is happy. and to dazai that’s enough.

we get to the ending that no one wants to read because we’re already in pain and we know asagiri is waiting there with a shotgun to deliver the final blow.

dazai arrives after akutagawa and atsushi’s fight to reveal his reasoning behind his plan. how atsushi and aku have to work together protect The Book to make sure this world doesn’t disappear just for oda, and he mentions how no more then two people can know about the existence of The Book also for the protection and stability of their world.

atsushi decides to so some quick maths then, and realizes in horror that dazai has slowly made his way to the edge of the building.

he pleads with dazai to not do it, but theres obviously no stopping him.

and in that moment I believe for the first time in a long time dazai is truly content.

the hatred towards him is heavy, but it doesn’t matter to dazai because odasaku is safe. he completed his mission.

dazai planned all of this from the very beginning up to his death. now, arguably, despite dazai’s heartwarming end goal he was still an awful person. he was abusive and manipulate. he hurt and killed others to get what he wanted. he was not a good person

but he suffered so much for the sake of one person, he knew his ending wasn’t going to happy, but the end goal was enough. the end goal made it worth it.

osamu could never tell anyone about his pain, not even his best friend. he had to instead put on the mask of the cruel boss of the port mafia. people either had to hate him or fear him. no one could ever love him, no one could ever care for him. and osamu knew that. from the very beginning. asagiri truly wrote a tragic but beautiful character.

now if you’ll excuse me im going to go cry :)))

[radbutsafe]

ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....

[sillyguyhotline]

the joe character ask

i’ve been responding to the prompts so slowly bc school but here’s the one for joe that i didn’t put in the previous ask 

Joe

Why I Like Him-

Honestly, this shouldn’t even be a question at this point, he’s hands down my favorite character. I adore the dynamic that he has with Sara, I adore his cheerful and peppy personality, and I adore the fact that he still undergoes realistic questioning of his morals despite being such a kind and generally “good person.” And, as I’ve stated many times before, I think that his death came at the perfect time to impact Sara’s development while also letting him go through a character arc and become a significant enough character for his death to hurt. I,,, I love him so much dhfbhdfbd

Why I Don’t-

There isn’t really a lot here; like I’ve said, he’s just generally a really good character! If I had to pick something, though, I’d say that there are a lot of unresolved suspicions surrounding him from the get-go and I don’t like that they haven’t been resolved yet. Considering how cheerful and trusting he is otherwise, he’s oddly suspicious of Keiji and the others right from the beginning, and is the first to suggest the possibility of a traitor- rather uncharacteristic for what we know of him. Was it just part of his character arc to make him dying due to the Sacrifice card even more sympathetic, or is there more to him? I, personally, really want the “Mr. Policeman is Joe’s dad” theory to be true, so I’m hoping that if we get that reveal, his initial suspicions will tie into that. I’ll be sort of disappointed if they continue to go unresolved.

Favorite Scene-

Honestly, I’ve always adored the scene where Joe and Sara walk home together. In only around 5 minutes, Nankidai is able to characterize them both perfectly (especially Joe), to portray them as close friends who enjoy teasing each other, and to establish that they’re still good friends even though Joe is dating Ryoko. Especially when you go back and play through the game without the initial worry of whether Joe is going to betray you, it’s easy to realize how genuinely sweet and well-written that scene is. I love it a lot :))

Favorite Line-

Because I’m very shitty at remembering lines, I’ll go with the classic one: “I love ya, Sara! You’re my best friend!” I also thought his AI’s line of “I’ll always follow you- just like a dog!” is a pretty funny one. 

Favorite Outfit-

I probably won’t include this with everyone else’s but I just want to take a minute to appreciate Joe’s gaudy-ass outfit. He has style. Period. Those earrings? That hairclip? Absolutely iconic, there’s a reason Sara cries every time she sees them after 1-2. 

OTP-

LMAO are you kidding me?? Joesara all the way. I also like the concept of Ryojoesara, but I just love their dynamic in-game and how close they are to each other, romantic or platonic. And… I just honestly adore the idea of the two of them together! I love the friends to lovers trope, and their personalities complement each other so well! They’re very sweet.

Brotp-

For this, I’d have to choose between either Gin or Shin. Joe leaning into the “big bro Joe” assignment is so precious, and I’ve always been a sucker for their little exchange where Gin promises to kick his ass in Mario Kart or something. I think he’d make a great big brother to Gin; they could bond over their love of dogs :) I’ve also seen a lot of Nankidai’s sketches of Joe and Shin together, and honestly I think they’d make for great friends- Joe could help pull Shin out of his “loner” persona and they could be buddies! If only </3

Headcanon-

Like I’ve said, I’m really bad at coming up with specific headcanons, but… I hc Joe as bi, he just gives off those vibes. He also probably has Tiktok and tried to get Sara and Ryoko to do Tiktok dances with him for awhile before giving up. Also!! He probably still sleeps with at least one stuffed animal (a stuffed dog would be very on-brand for him) but is self-conscious as hell about it and has only told Sara.

Unpopular Opinion-

This seems to be a pretty unpopular opinion because of how much people love to talk about it, but I really dislike the Mastermind Joe theory. I’ve talked about this before, but I think it’s very implausible; Nankidai’s writing is centric around character development, not the shock value of plot twists. Sacrificing all of Sara’s development throughout Chapter 2 (which consisted of her reacting realistically to her grief and was handled very well imo) would be so counterproductive and it would make the game feel so much cheaper. Perhaps Joe’s AI might be weaponized against her again or it might make future appearances, but I doubt the living Joe will turn out to be evil, much less a conspirator or even mastermind with ASUNARO. It just wouldn’t make sense, and it would honestly ruin his character.

A Wish-

I’ve already mentioned that I want the “Mr. Policeman is Joe’s Dad” theory to be true, so I’m gonna say that I really want my theory about the AI to come true as well. I really want Sara to end up going home with Joe’s AI if she survives, and I want the emotional distress of seeing the fake version of her dead best friend to be evident. Give me that angst, PLEASE </3

An Oh-God-Please-Don’t-Ever-Happen:

Mastermind Joe Theory!! Please don’t ruin his character.

5 Words To Describe Him-

Gaudy Dog Boy Deserved Better

 My Nickname for Him-

I don’t really have a lot, but I think I misspelled his name as “hoe” in a conversation once and ever since I think of him as “Hoe Tazuna.”

[matsumi101]

Who is this Kid?

Crossdressing Fem!Reader Hamilton Insert

Secret

Description:

General Washington has been relentlessly receiving letters one after another that has been requesting two same things over and over again. It’s high time he confronts the writer directly about it, and maybe clear something that he’s been hearing around while he’s at it.

———————————

Warnings: swearing, drinking

———————————

Notes:

> Masterlist

> Read from the beginning.

> “F/N” means fake name and “Y/N” means your real first name

> I don’t think I warned y’all before but I wasn’t really planning on writing chronologically. I’m not sorry lmao

> Surprise Wednesday update! I’ve been reading the rb tags and the replies you guys keep leaving in my story and honestly it makes my heart go 💞 aaa ily guys sm and im glad you’re enjoying the story 🥺🥺🥺

———————————

Taglist (if u wanna be added do tell!)

@thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth  @cutie1365 @girlmadeofivory @i-honestly-dont-know-anymore  @takemyhand-bitch @hamiltrashqueer​

———————————

“Hey, Juggernaut.”

You adjusted your coat before pulling your tent open. “Yo,” you greeted quietly to the soldier waiting in front of your tent. “General Washington calls for you,” he informed you. You nodded and ducked out of your tent, not wanting to wait another second to know what your superior wanted to talk about. You walked at a brisk pace, never stopping until you were now in front of the tent that was noticeably larger than the rest.

You swallowed thickly, millions of possibilities running in your head to as why you were called. A big part of you hoped that it was with regards to your plans, though there was a smaller bit of you that feared that it might be of something else. Not wanting to keep yourself on edge any further, you pushed the tent open and let yourself in.

"Your excellency, sir. You asked to see me?"

You readily saluted at the presence of not only George Washington but the aide-de-camps and officers that were with him as well. They circled a table, where a map and a few mock pieces were laid out for them to view and move around. While John and Lafayette's eyes twinkled with recognition, the others simply stared at your arrival. "Private F/N L/N?" George assumed. He motioned you to be at ease, which you silently obeyed.

"Yes, sir," you confirmed with a steady voice.

George quickly dismissed the rest of the people out of the tent, the only ones remaining were you, him, and Alexander who was busy writing something at his desk at the corner. “I’ve been reading your letters,” George began, moving to get something from his main desk. You immediately tensed as he pulled out a small stack of envelopes underneath. You kept your lips sealed, waiting for the General’s input on your requests.

“You’ve been asking to have the same thing approved for years now,” he began, “and recently, you’re asking for a rather unique position in your unit, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

From the corner of your eyes you could see Alexander perk up slightly at the conversation. He subtly glanced up from his work, his eyes falling on George as the general picked up an open letter that had been lying on his desk. “Let’s talk about the first one,” George announced. “I’ve noticed there was a slight change with your offer.” You licked the bottom of your lips out of nervousness, fiddling with your hands behind you.

“Unfortunately, even I can’t agree to it.”

“If I may sir, why not?”

George looked up from the letter to you. “Women cannot be paid to study, son,” he explained plainly. You tilted your head the slightest, confusion from his statement evident. “Sir, I do not seek for women to be paid to be taught basic medicinal procedures,” you murmured, and that was enough for George to mirror your expression.

“That doesn’t seem to be the message I’m getting from your letter, L/N.”

You opened your mouth to counter, but when a vague memory hit you like a punch in the gut, you couldn’t help but to smack your forehead in realization. “Shit, I am so sorry,” you apologized, the annoyance woven in your voice directed to yourself more than anything. George furrowed his brows at your sudden drop of formality, noticing how you were cursing under your breath as you returned to position.

“I must’ve sent you my draft letter instead of the actual one. The pay that I mentioned in the letter refers to the pay of the nurses, not the education that I wish to be provided to them.”

Your face turned to more of an embarrassed one. “I... might’ve written this late at night so my thoughts merged while I was writing,” you confessed, looking down at the ground. “I apologize for causing a misunderstanding. Writing... has never really been my best suit.” You could feel the back of your neck heat up with embarrassment, and the blood was slowly creeping its way to your cheeks the more you dwelled on your mistake. George huffed, and you could’ve sworn there was laughter that came along with it.

“We have our own weaknesses, son,” he said. “Rewrite your statement, then I’ll have it sent to the Congress for approval. Hamilton.”

“Yes, sir?”

The called man straightened from his seat almost instantaneously. “If you’re not too busy, you can help Private L/N draft his proposal to the Congress tonight?” he requested. You looked at Alexander almost the same time he looked at you. “I take it you approve of his plans, sir?” he asked George, though it came off more of a statement than a question.

“Yes. If our nurses are given the same pay as our male doctors, or at the very least raise it, then there wouldn’t be any need for our officers to resort to... violent methods of recruiting them.”

Your jaw visibly clenched at the last few words, and George wasn’t dense to not notice it. “If we treat our camp followers properly, as we should’ve been since square one, then they wouldn’t be working out of spite or fear,” you pointed out through gritted teeth, “and by teaching them the required medical procedures to treating our wounded, then there would be more hands on our medical team without really hiring more hands.” Alexander nearly beamed at your words and hurriedly wrote something down on a spare piece of paper.

“That’s an excellent point F/N, I’ll make sure to include that in your proposal,” he announced eagerly.

You stared at Alexander with surprise while George chuckled in amusement. “Now, since we’ve cleared all misunderstandings for your first request, I take it we’re good to move on to the next one?” his voice wasn’t as light as when he brought up your first request. “Ready as I’ll ever be, sir,” you replied. George nodded, pulling a different letter.

“Private L/N, I’m sure you already know the contents of your own letters, so I will say right now that I just can’t approve you to a... what is this term you used?”

“Field medic, sir.”

“Right.”

“Field medic?”

Alexander wasn’t really supposed to be a part of the next conversation, but he couldn’t help but inquire about the strange new term he just heard. “Basically a doctor soldier tasked specifically to treat wounded men while on field and pull them out of there,” George explained, and you nodded. Alexander’s face contorted, and you sighed internally as it was the response you already expected to get from someone hearing your concept for the first time.

“I... I don’t get it,” Alexander murmured. “We can bring our men to the backlines just fine during combat, I don’t see the point of having a person to specialize in that.”

You were just about ready to explain, but then George put up his hand to stop you. “I can hand you Private L/N’s letters of proposal for later, son,” George reasoned. Alexander’s face fell, and the man buried his face back to his work. “With all due respect sir, I feel like I am fully capable of putting this concept into action. My endurance is beyond average to run around the field and carry our wounded, all I need left is some proper first-aid training.”

“And we need your endurance in the frontlines!” George retorted. “Juggernaut, you’re our best foot soldier, I cannot afford to send you to the medics.”

You nearly physically recoiled at the use of your nickname. You wore the title “Juggernaut” with pride ever since, and George knew. Your tendency to almost never use your gunpowder and instead resort to close combat was what earned you the nickname, and your commanders made sure to utilize you best for that. Simply put, your fearlessness to be up close with the redcoats was something praised by your fellow soldiers and feared by the enemy.

“Sir,” your voice dropped low. “Many men die bleeding out in the field when they could’ve lived if only someone had been there to pull them out, but the second they’re crippled they are not our standing soldiers’ priority. Moreover, many more die in the tents simply for having infected wounds that could’ve been survivable had someone treated it long before. These men have hopes of coming home to see the end of this war and what follows as much as any of us, even while they lay in their own pool of blood as the rest of the fight ensues around them. Sir, they have lives they want to go back to, too, just like us.”

When you were done talking, the air within the tent was heavy. Was it out of realization or just the sheer weight of your words, no one was quite sure, but the tension was so thick no blade could cut through it. “I can see you are as adamant in saving lives as you are taking them,” George mused, finally breaking the suffocating silence that wrapped around the three of you. He glanced down at your letter, hesitancy clear as day. Between the two of you, it was the sixth one you sent for your proposed role. For every letter of declination he gave you, you rebutted with a new letter no more than two to three days later countering his reasonings. For someone who isn’t the best at writing, you do write a lot, he thought.

“Let my hands be stained saving the blood of my allies than spilling the blood of my enemies,” you responded, quoting your own letter.

George huffed, setting down the letter. “I will... think this through for the meantime,” he announced. You resisted your mouth that nearly quirked upwards at his words; consideration was a good enough sign for you. “Thank you sir,” you breathed. George eyed you carefully, thinking if there was anything else needed to be said to you. “I suppose that will be all for now,” he decided tentatively. He dismissed you, and just after you thanked him for his time and turned around was then he remembered.

“Hold on, Private. I feel like there’s one more thing needed to be discussed.”

You looked over your shoulder, almost fearfully, as you moved away from the tent’s exit. George leaned back, crossing his arms as he looked at you with a nearly blank stare. “I feel like we should address the secret circulating around you,” he pointed out. Your jaw dropped to the floor, a chill striking you from the feet up. A hand flew over your arm as goosebumps riddled your limbs, and you feared the worst.

“What secret, sir?” you asked, your voice nearly returning to normal with panic.

“Juggernaut, I don’t think we need to beat around the bush over this. Other soldiers have seen it, too, and you need to come clean with it.”

Other soldiers? The thought was everything but comforting. You always thought you had been discreet with your identity, but apparently you weren’t based on the General’s accusations. However, you kept your mind straight enough to keep droning on. Maybe it was just a mistake, maybe it was just a false rumor that was meant to drag you in the dirt. Yeah, maybe that’s it. You desperately wished that was it.

“It must be a mistake, sir. Whatever this secret may be must be just a measly rumor to throw me off,” you tried to reason out.

“Would it be considered a rumor if we have a witness?”

Your stomach dropped. So there are people who saw? That was definitely not right. You were always sure to have your corset on, only taking it off inside the tent, and whenever you bathe you made sure you were either alone or the last one out and never surfacing from the water. George glanced over to Alexander expectantly, and for the first time the secretary seemed to not want to partake in the conversation.

“Hamilton here has your verbatim.”

You could feel your palms turn sweatier as the seconds passed. You steadied your breathing, trying to calm yourself and stay reasonable. Alexander stared at George incredulously, as if he was the one who’d been ratted out by their superior. He looked over to you, and despite your seemingly calm stature there was nervousness in your eyes that spoke otherwise. Not wanting to lie, Alexander nodded almost apologetically to confirm. You felt your shoulders sag. Had you been too lax when you discussed about pretending with other disguised women? Or had you been too loud when you were rambling to yourself in your own tent? You feared what was next to follow, but if there was someone who bore evidence of your secret, then it was better for you to speak the truth.

“I apologize for deceiving you, sir,” you conceded, dropping your head. “I am more than willing to accept the punishment for my actions.”

“Funny, I figured you’d know enough the consequences of having more liquor than the daily rations you’re given.”

“Wh... what...?”

You tried to wrap your head around the new information. Liquor... daily rations... was that what General George Washington accusing you of this whole time? “Or is the excess whiskey your secret to your fearlessness after all?” George mused teasingly, and you shot up straight when it finally registered to you. “No sir, that would be my low sense of self-preservation,” you answered hurriedly, jokingly. Thankfully for you, George chuckled at your banter.

“Well, don’t think of dying too early, young man,” George advised lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

The tight feeling that was mentally suffocating you the whole time released your entire being. “Though, if it’s any assurance, my stash of vodka hasn’t really been consumed,” you informed. “If anything, I think the only time I made use of it was when I disinfected someone’s wound.” George sat up straight, a curious look flashing in his eyes.

“Is that so?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Who’d you heal?”

You paused, wondering if you should really say. “It was Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens.” You glanced up, noticing the inquisitive look both George and Alexander held. “If it’s any compensation for my troubles, I can offer some of my personal beverage. Surely, you’d like a shot,” you then offered, swiftly dodging the questions that might’ve followed your prior statement.

“And how will I know this is not a ploy to try on my good side, son?”

“Was I on your bad side this whole time, sir?”

“With the direction your letters were going, you might be at the tipping point of being so with the Congress.”

You laughed uneasily. “Rest assured sir, my offer is all in good faith.” George uncovered the mug that rested on the edge of his table, and you took that as the sign to approach. You pulled out your flask, which had been refilled from the much larger bottle that you were hiding in your tent (you wondered if someone that visited your tent before saw the bottle which led to the accusations), and poured a hefty amount into the mug, much to George’s pleasure. You waved to Alexander with the flask. “Do you want some too, Hamilton?” you asked him. Alexander stared at your flask, then to George, and then to his papers.

“Come on, son. It’s not everyday we have a little extra liquor,” George insisted, a welcoming smile on his face.

Alexander didn’t hesitate to come over to the table the second he got George’s approval. He brought his own cup, and you readily poured him almost the same amount as George. “Thanks, I needed this,” he sighed gratefully, the strong scent already wafting through his nose. The three of you shared a toast, and you took a nice, long swig from your flask. A satisfied growl emitted from each of you, the burning sensation running down your throat.

“Well sir, I should head out now,” you said quietly.

George nodded, and finally dismissed you. “Call the others back on your way out,” he ordered, and you gave a verbal confirmation before pushing one of the tent flaps open. You peered outside and saw that Lafayette and John were talking nearby. You headed to them, waving a hand to catch their attention.

“F/N! The General didn’t chew you out too much, I hope?” John teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, I got out alive,” you joked. “The General requests you guys and the other officials to return, by the way.” John chuckled, patting your shoulder as he passed by. Lafayette ruffled your hair before he and John headed out to look for the other officials that dispersed in the camp. You sighed and walked back to your tent, the clashing sensation of relief and anxiousness washing over you.

Your secret was safe... for now.