#THANKS SO MUCH PERSON WHO TOLD ME ABOUT THIS DAY!!

[minteababe]

In 2018 my husband and I (both trans masc) were arrested in a very small town in Texas for possession of cannabis. My husband passes as masc much better than I do, and so when we were initially being loaded up in the squad car, the cop was on his radio talking to dispatch telling them he had "one male and one female."

Now, my husband has never had his gender marker changed. So when dispatch came back, they were very, very confused, saying, "Uh, we're seeing two females?"

The cop then flipped on the dome light in the back seat and took a good long look at my husband in his rear-view mirror, and said, "Well, damn. Whatever you're doing is working. Good job."

That was it.

When we got to the precinct, in the midst of talking to the cop doing our intake, I said something (I don't remember anymore, but I think it had to do with being surprised at how chill they were with us being trans) and she replied with a big belly laugh, "Oh sweetie, y'all aren't the first trans folks we've had in here and you won't be the last."

They kept my partner in holding for his safety instead of putting him with the men.

Now, because I had long hair at the time and hadn't been on T long, I didn't pass at all. Naturally, they put me in general population with a group of 11 women.

Within the first 24 hours, I had explained to one of the women that I really shouldn't be in with them and it wasn't fair to them, because I was trans. Her face lit up like a kid on Christmas when I asked her to co-sign a letter asking the warden to have me separated. Not because she was malicious, but because in her words, "I knew there was something different about you when I saw you come in."

She asked my permission to talk to the other women and have them sign my letter, too.

Later that day, I found myself seated on a bunk surrounded by women who just had questions. And I had answers! And I was happy to give them those answers, because meeting me was their chance to learn. They asked me everything they could think of about being trans, medical and social transition, etc. Most of them were just in awe, because they had no idea that people like me existed. A few clearly didn't "agree" with it, but still held the sentiment of, "As long as you're not hurting anyone else, do what you want."

Afterwards, one of the women came to me in tears. She thanked me profusely for sitting with them and teaching them about my world. She then told me that her very young kid would often tell her, "Mommy, I want to be a girl when I grow up," and she just...never knew what to make of that before. She didn't know that was an option, and she was so happy and excited to be able to get out and go support her kid with more knowledge and understanding than she had before.

Think about that the next time someone asks you a genuine question. No, you don't "owe" anyone an education - but don't allow your knowledge and experience to become a barrier for others. Let me be clear: personal questions can be deeply uncomfortable, you don't have to answer them. Practice saying, "That question is difficult for me to answer because its a very vulnerable topic for me," instead of reacting in fear, anger, or defense. Being rude or aggressive in your refusal could mean that person never tries to learn about trans folks ever again.

People don't know what they don't know. And they never will know, if you refuse to teach them.

"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."

"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

[kingdomvel]

New season boring af pt2

Steddie | modern au | famous actor Steve Harrington | 4.9k | ao3

part one

“Are you talking with that guy again?” The sound of Robin’s voice startles Steve, who can only lock his phone and slip it into his pocket to hide it from her. He wasn’t even talking with Eddie, that’s the embarrassing part. He was looking at the pictures that he had shared with him over the months they have been talking.

“No,” Steve says, but he must not sound very convincing.

“Steve! I’ve told you he could be a weirdo, or a stalker!”

“And I’ve told you he is not a stalker, he was not that interested in me before we started texting. And he works in a record store all the way in Chicago. I’ve seen it.”

“Do you understand the concept of catfishes? He could still be a stalker.”

“Well that stalker has seen my dick, so” Steve shrugs.

“WHAT? You whore!” Robin shouts, Steve is very thankful that they are alone in the makeup trailer now. “When did this happen?”

Steve crosses his arms and grumbles, knowing what is coming. “A month ago?”

“A MONTH?”

“Yeah.” And what a fucking month it has been. Steve can still remember that first time in perfect detail. Steve had not expected Eddie’s picture. At all. He had been hoping for a reaction, that’s why he had chosen that movie, but Eddie had given him something much better. The sight of his tented pyjamas was only surpassed by the sight of his actual dick on the video call later.

Steve will admit – only to himself – that it was reckless and dangerous, but it was also the culmination of weeks of studying Eddie’s picture, of watching time and time again the little videos he posted in his close friends stories (the day Steve had been added to the list was another peak for him, as embarrassing as that is) playing guitar and dicking around with his friends (maybe he was the stalker of the two). It was Steve seeing how he affected the guy he had the hots for after months of being sexually frustrated with barely enough time to jack off between filming. Because of course Eddie wasn’t only funny and nice to talk to, he also had to be the hot friend of his group.

He had not been planning for that reaction, but he was not going to pass up that opportunity. Seeing the hand he had seen wrapped around guitar necks for so long wrapped around Eddie’s cock… Steve was never going to forget that sight.

“This is crazy, like, do you even know his name?” Robin interrupts his thoughts.

“Of course I do, he’s Eddie.” He’s always known his name, it’s in his profile.

“Surname?”

Steve pauses. “You don’t know the surname of all your friends.”

“I think in this case you should have asked, Steve.”

“Why can’t you trust me with this?”

“I just worry about you, and maybe I’m a bit sad that you didn’t tell me sooner.”

“I knew you would just nag me about it.”

“Hah! So you know what you did was wrong!”

“If you didn’t want this to happen then you shouldn’t have made me watch Notting Hill.”

“That’s different!”

“How.”

“Well, for one it’s a movie,” she says, putting up a finger. Steve rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips. That’s pretty obvious. “Two!” Robin puts up another finger. “They met in real life, not the internet.”

“It was the 90s, of course they met in person. Are you saying that it would be fine if I went to Chicago and met him casually in his record store?”

“No, maybe, don’t try to distract me.”

“Keep your points coming, come on.”

“Three!” Another finger comes up. “Hugh Grant is... hot?”

Steve snorts. “Eddie is hot too.” They wouldn’t be having this conversation if he wasn’t. “And anyways, you are a lesbian, you have no opinion on this.” He waves it off with a hand.

“I still have eyes, and that’s what everyone says.”

“Not valid. Your arguments are not accepted, I know you don’t think Hugh Grant is hot.”

“But that’s not the point! Ugh, okay.” Robin pauses for a few seconds, but Steve knows she’s not finished talking. “So, he saw your dick, did you see his? Wait, no, don’t tell me details. A month ago? I still can’t believe it. Have you done that again?”

And there she is. Steve laughs. “Yes, we’ve done it again.”

****

Steve.hrrgtn: hey, just a quick question

Steve.hrrgtn: what’s your surname?

Batking: why? trying to steal it for yourself?

Steve’s heart should not skip like that from that line.

Steve.hrrgtn: just so I know who I should address the restraining order to when you finally try to murder me

Batking: fuck youve been talking with robin again?

Batking: its munson

Batking: edward munson

Batking: you need anything else? my social security number or something? Ill send you a picture of my drivers license

Steve.hrrgtn: I think I only need that for now, thank you for your cooperation

Batking: you better not be lying about the reason

Batking: if I catch you writing one mr and mr munson in your diary you will need the restraining order for real

Steve’s heart should NOT skip like that from that line.

****

Steve takes a picture on the mirror of the dressing room, stylists still all around him. Nobody pays attention to him, they are all too busy for that, packing up and chatting. Steve should be taking the graduation gown off so it can be packed up with everything else, just so they can go home earlier, but he had to take the picture first. He had taken pictures with the rest of the cast, sure, but this is different.

He is smiling, cap held in his hand.

Steve.hrrgtn: *picture attached*

Steve.hrrgtn: just graduated

He sends the message and moves to take the costume off and his own clothes back on. When he takes his phone back, there is a message already waiting for him. A smile makes its way to his face in a second.

Batking: at the grown age of 25, took you even longer than me and I did my senior year three times

Batking: congratu fucking lations

Steve.hrrgtn: you are an asshole

Steve.hrrgtn: but do you know what this means??

Steve moves around the room, thanking everyone. It takes him a while, so he is confused when an answer is not waiting for him when he looks back at his phone.

Steve.hrrgtn: Eddie?

Batking: *Screenshot of the I’M FREEEE!!!!!! WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY FUCKING LIFE meme*

Batking: this?

Batking: sorry sweetheart I was looking for the meme

Steve.hrrgtn: EXACTLY THAT

Steve.hrrgtn: not like the WORST because I met Robin here and all but FUCK YEAH it’s over

Batking: these four months of waiting for the torture to finish must have felt so long

Steve smiles, typing as he walks outside. They are having a wrap party later, so he needs to find Robin so they can get ready together.

Steve.hrrgtn: hmm not really

Steve.hrrgtn: I had someone sending me memes to entertain me that made the time fly

Batking: must be one hell of a lucky guy

Steve.hrrgtn: assuming genders now?

Batking: oh sorry, are you cheating on me with another meme provider? Am I not enough for you now? You looked for someone else to keep you company?

Steve knows this is just teasing, that Eddie doesn’t believe that. Still.

Steve.hrrgtn: nah

Steve.hrrgtn: just you

****

Batking: okay were you going to tell me your mother is a fucking coppola

Steve.hrrgtn: she is a very respected lady

Steve.hrrgtn: also barely a coppola

Batking: still a coppola

Batking: you are a nepo baby

Steve.hrrgtn: every day it amazes me how little you know about me

Batking: I like keeping you humble

Batking: my brain doesn’t understand that the steve from my phone is really the Steve Harrington on tv sometimes

Batking: so I try not to see stuff about you on the internet

Batking: feels weird

Batking: MY ROOMMATE ON THE OTHER HAND

Batking: he was reading your wikipedia page and your mothers name was in blue so he started following the lead

Eddie had told him once that he hadn’t told his friends about what they had going on, that they just wouldn’t believe him. That must have changed. It makes Steve feel giddy.

Steve.hrrgtn: aw you finally told your friends about me?

Batking: they said they are happy to feed my delusions

Steve.hrrgtn: lmao

Batking: anyway that’s not the point here

Steve.hrrgtn: whats the point?

Steve.hrrgtn: you already knew I was rich and famous

Batking: yeah but this feels different

Batking: you are a nepo baby its like I should hate you

Batking: but you are such a good guy

Batking: from a rich family, hot, nice, funny…

Batking: you cant have everything its unfair

The rich family part doesn’t really do anything for Steve. It’s just a fact. But Eddie complimenting his personality and appearance? That always works on Steve.

Steve.hrrgtn: is this a way to get me to call you?

Steve.hrrgtn: because in the words of a metalhead I know

Steve.hrrgtn: flattery works on me

Batking: it wasnt at first

Batking: but I wont say no to a call with the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen

Steve lets out a huff. Eddie and him both know what he did there.

He taps the call icon.

****

Steve stands frozen in the middle of his living room, the smile that had been on his face now completely wiped off. For the first time since he started talking to Eddie, his heart has dropped to his gut at one of his messages.

He keeps his gaze on his phone, the screen staring back at him.

There is a screenshot of a picture of him and Nancy coming out of a restaurant at night. He has his arm wrapped around her shoulders. That was just last night, Nancy had been upset and he had been trying to shield her from the flashes. The picture is accompanied by the headline ‘Caught in the act! Steve Harrington back with ex?’. Eddie’s message is under it.

Batking: glad you are having fun now that filming has finished

It’s- not right. Steve knows Eddie’s snarky comments, knows the feel his teasing. This is not it.

Steve.hrrgtn: I thought you didn’t look for stuff about my private life on the internet?

It comes out as defensive, and Steve instantly regrets it, but it had been one of the things he liked about Eddie, how he learned about Steve from him and not from rumours and the internet.

Batking: turns out that talking to you makes it unavoidable

Of fucking course it does. Who was Steve kidding? He knew this was bound to happen, that the media was going to be a problem at some point. He tries not to blame it on Eddie.

Steve.hrrgtn: it’s not like that

Steve.hrrgtn: she’s just a friend

Steve.hrrgtn: she had a fight with her boyfriend and needed a bit of a pick me up

Batking: you don’t need to explain yourself to me

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? At the end of the day, they have not even met each other in person. That doesn’t make this feel right.

Steve tries to imagine how he would feel if he saw Eddie having dinner with an ex. He doesn’t like the feeling at all.

Steve.hrrgtn: I still want you to know

He needs him to know.

Batking: really steve it’s okay

Batking: I shouldnt have sent that

Batking: Im not sure why I did

Steve has an idea why he did, but he is not going to say it, too afraid of fucking everything up if he does.

Steve.hrrgtn: its okay

Steve.hrrgtn: you are giving me an excuse to bitch about the lack of privacy and how much I hate paps

Steve is sure Eddie is going to recognize it as what this is. A weak attempt at diffusing the tension. Steve hopes it works.

Batking: you know im always open to listen to you bitching about your lavish life

It’s still a bitchy comment, but Steve lets out a sigh of relief. He recognizes that heat.

****

Batking: holy shit steve

That’s the only message on Steve’s phone, it’s the only message from Eddie for a couple of hours. Steve very patiently (or not) waits for him to elaborate, growing more and more nervous when he doesn’t.

Steve.hrrgtn: Eddie? Did you get murdered?

Batking: sorry I texted you as soon as I got the call and then the guys came over and I got swept way

Steve.hrrgtn: that’s okay

Steve.hrrgtn: but what happened? Something good?

Steve really hopes it’s something good.

Batking: we got a gig

Batking: like an actual gig

Steve.hrrgtn: holy shit eddie!

Steve.hrrgtn: that’s amazing

Batking: can I call you?

He doesn’t need to ask, he knows that. They are way past the point of internet acquaintances or friends who sometimes jerk off together on the phone.

Steve hits the video call button, and Eddie answers almost immediately. He is walking away from the cacophony of his friends, a blush high on his cheeks and his hair a mess even as he tries to brush it down. He looks stupidly good.

“Jesus, you look great,” are the first words out of Eddie’s mouth.

Steve snorts, he had been lying on the couch thirty seconds ago. His hair is a mess, he hasn’t shaved in two days. He never lets anyone see him like this. Eddie is different.

“Shut up. You got a gig!”

“We got a gig!”

“How did it happen?”

“You know my friend Chrissy?” Eddie asks. He closes a door behind himself and the noise is now gone, they are alone. Steve nods. “She got a job at a venue that doubles as concert hall and club and they are doing a metal week or something like that. They are bringing some very cool groups from all around the country- I’m so excited to see some of them- but that’s not the point. They wanted to give an opportunity to a local band and that’s where we come in!”

“They gave it to you?”

“They said they really like our vibe.”

“Of course they do,” Steve says with a snort. If Steve didn’t know better, he would say that Eddie just came out of a movie set set in the 80s. Perfect vibe for a metal week.

“Don’t laugh!”

“I’m not laughing! You do have the vibe. Tell me more about it, when’s this happening?”

“It’s very short notice but-“

Steve listens as Eddie tells him all about it, with his excited gestures and the wide smile that splits his face. They talk until Eddie’s friends come to get him to go for celebratory drinks.

As soon as the call ends, Steve calls Robin.

“How do you feel about going to Chicago in two weeks?”

****

The venue is loud. It’s already full when Steve and Robin arrive, just a few minutes before the concert starts. It’s not big, Eddie had told Steve so, but it still has a proper stage, and actual, stablished groups have concerts here. It’s a big step from the bar where Eddie and his friends usually play to an audience more interested on their drinks and conversations than in listening to them. People had to pay for this, even if it was a ticket that included a drink or if it was included into the week pass.

Batking: we are about to come out and I’m nervous as fuck

Steve.hrrgtn: I thought everyone already knew you were gay?

Batking: shut up

Steve.hrrgtn: don’t be nervous

Steve.hrrgtn: I know you are going to be amazing

Batking: I wish you were here

Batking: its going to be the gig of the century

Okay so Steve has not told Eddie that he was coming to see him, so what? He really wanted to see him in his natural environment, just him, not influenced by the knowledge that Steve would be in the audience.

Steve.hrrgtn: I’m always with you

Batking: you know what I mean

Steve.hrrgtn: don’t worry about that

Steve.hrrgtn: you go give the best performance all these people have ever seen

They stay out of the dancefloor slash pit, up in the balcony next to the cloakroom. They have a great view of the stage and the only reason Steve can think for them being the only ones here is that it may not be allowed, but an employee starts walking towards them and just turns around when he takes a good look at them.

Batking: okay we are coming out now

Batking: ttyl <3

Steve.hrrgtn: <3

“It’s starting,” Steve tells Robin. Just a couple of seconds later the lights dim and four figures take up their positions at the stage.

When the music starts, it is loud.

Steve feels so fucking proud. He had seen videos of Eddie’s band performing at bars or jamming in the studio they rent, but they are not like this, they are nothing like this. It’s like they had been living in a cage and were now released in the wild. Steve was  fully prepared to lie to Eddie about what he thought of the concert. He has seen a lot of groups more experienced than Eddie’s that were not as good, that didn’t know how to hype up the audience like them, that weren’t so natural with it. Now, seeing Eddie on stage, he knows that he won’t have to lie about them being incredible.

Steve’s eyes can’t stray from Eddie. It’s like a magnet. Better than any video, better than any call. He can see the whole him, the way he moves, the way he smiles and his hair flows. The way his fingers move on the guitar. He can’t wait to be closer to him.

“Try not to ruin your underwear before you even meet him,” Robin yells into his ear. Steve pushes her away from him, but they are both laughing.

Steve has been wondering for days about how will Eddie react when he sees him for the first time. If it will be after the concert, when Steve inevitably makes his way to the green room, or if Eddie will be able to spot him in the audience. If maybe Steve will miss the moment Eddie’s eyes land on him.

The moment ends up being impossible to miss.

“Holy shit,” Eddie says into the microphone.

His eyes are focused on Steve, his mouth gaping. Steve laughs and waves to him and Eddie gives him a small wave in answer from the stage before his eyes jump back down to the audience.

“Holy shit you guys are great,” he tries to brush it off. “Keep the energy up for the next song!”

The concert continues, but now Steve catches Eddie’s eyes every few minutes, a smile coming to both their faces every time.

It’s not long before Eddie is speaking again.

“It is with great sadness that I must inform you that the next song is our last. Yes, yes, I know, very sad,” he says in response to the oohs from the audience. “I just wanted to take a minute to thank the organization for putting their trust on us and giving us this opportunity. Also to all of you good humans that decided to use your money to come see us, I expect your follows by tomorrow.” He starts playing, the others matching the rhythm. A repeating single note. “To all the metalheads and non-metalheads here,” he adds, louder, his gaze fixing on Steve. “I’m taking groupie applications. The requisites are: One! Be a male, sorry ladies. Two! Be 25 years old. Three! Have great hair. And four, have at least one teen choice award for best shirtless scene.” There are confused sounds from the audience, but Eddie is grinning and Steve is laughing. “Very easy to meet, the backstage door is impossible to miss.” He flicks his gaze to the side, and Steve follows it to see a door at the side of the balcony. He sends him a thumbs up. “Okay, lets rock this shit!”

The concert ends with a bang, and Steve and Robin scurry off to the backstage door before people start coming up to go out for a smoke, because not many people seem to be going home yet, the venue staying open as a bar. They don’t run into any problem because again, an employee takes one good look at their face and opens the staff only door for them. Steve has to admit that sometimes being  so famous has its perks.

The sound of the music gets muted the moment the door closes behind them. The corridor is long, but they only have to follow the shouts of exited boys.

Eddie is the first person Steve sees when they get to the green room. He is jumping up and down while hugging his friends and they all scream. Steve crosses his arms and leans on the doorframe with a grin, Robin next to him. Eddie must catch the movement with his side eye because he stops and turns to them with a grin.

“I told you you were going to do great,” Steve says as a greeting.

The other boys finally stop too, and Steve sees the confusion and disbelief down on their faces when they take them in.

“Eddie, tell me I’m not seeing your imaginary boyfriend,” one of them says.

“You are Gareth, aren’t you? The roommate,” Steve says, pointing at him while he walks over. “Eddie has told me about you.”

Gareth takes his hand with his mouth wide open and barely a coherent thought behind his eyes. Steve sees Eddie’s eyes land with a laser focus on their clasped hands.

“Can’t believe I owe Chrissy twenty,” another boy says with a groan. Jeff, Steve is pretty sure.

“You bet I was making it up?” Eddie asks, offended.

“I bet you were too deep into a parasocial relationship.”

“And I bet you were getting scammed by a catfish,” the other boy says.

Robin lets out a cackle.

“I told Steve the same thing!”

They start talking around them, but Steve doesn’t care. He is two steps away from Eddie, he can see the sweat from the concert glistening on his skin, the deep brown of his eyes staring into him. He needs to close that distance. Before he can take a step forward, Eddie speaks.

“Do you want to come out for some fresh air? There’s a fenced back area for deliveries, should be empty.”

Does Steve want to go with Eddie to a spot with just the two of them? Fuck yeah.

“Yes! The air is so stuffy here, I might die if I don’t come out for a few minutes,” Robin says.

Eddie moves his eyes from Steve to her, his smile turning awkward.

“Right, yeah. Guys, we are stepping out for a couple minutes, okay?” Eddie calls out, taking a leather jacket from the back of a chair. “Follow me.”

Steve’s gaze drops to Eddie’s ass when he walks past them and back into the corridor. Fuck. He needs to close that distance.

Eddie holds the door to the outside for them, gesturing for them to come out with his other hand. His fingers are twitching, his whole body is, for that matter. He’s nervous, Steve can tell.

The door closes with bang after them, and they stand in the dimly lit outside. Robin is talking, and Steve feels just a bit bad about how Eddie and him are very obviously not listening to her.

Eddie is fiddling with the zippers of his jacket, his eyes roaming Steve’s body and flicking to Robin for a second from time to time.

They stay like that for a couple of minutes before Eddie takes a pack of cigarettes from a pocket of his jacket.

“You smoke?” he asks Steve.

“I’m an actor,” Steve says as answer.

Eddie smiles and, before Steve can reach out to grab a cigarette, Eddie has grabbed two and put both in his mouth. He moves to put the pack back in his pocket before he seems to remember that they are not alone and offers it to Robin, but she declines and starts talking about how tobacco is bad for your lungs and teeth, actually.

Steve can only look as Eddie lights both of the cigarettes at the same time and offers one to him. He takes it, their fingers brushing and sending electricity all through Steve’s body, their eyes fixed on each other.

“Okay, this is too much, I’m going inside.” Robin says, both boys turn to her. There is a beat of silence, and Steve realises she was waiting for one of them to say something, but they are both too late. “Your friend Chrissy was at the bar, right? I’ll tell her to get me a drink, you boys just… do whatever, no rush. Just- be careful or whatever.”

They stare at the door until it closes, the bang the one thing that makes Steve snap back towards Eddie. The boy is taking a drag of his cigarette and Steve mirrors him.

“Sorry, I just-“ Eddie starts. He is flicking the barely there ash. Steve can guess he needed something to do with his hands more than a real smoke. “Part of my brain is still trying to keep up with the fact that you are actually here and real and not a creation of my imagination.”

“Why? You fantasize about me that much?”

“Oh, you have no idea sweetheart,” Eddie answers with a sly smile.

Fuck. Hearing that directly from Eddie, looking at his face while he says it with no phone screen separating them is making the metre between them feel unbearable.

“You know what they say, sometimes you need to touch to believe.”

Eddie chuckles. “I’m not sure that’s right.”

But he still takes a step forward and the next thing Steve knows is that Eddie has a hand cupping his face and their lips are squeezed together in a messy kiss. Steve barely has time to answer to the kiss, drop the cigarette and grab Eddie back before the guy is pushing away and putting a hand up between them.

“Sorry, I should have- very real by the way.” Eddie says, punctuating the last part with a wave of his hand. “Great advice there, I-“

He can’t say more, because now it’s Steve pulling him closer into a kiss. There is no interruption now so the kiss goes on, and on, and Steve makes Eddie open his mouth to kiss him deeper, pulls him closer to him. This is everything he had hoped for and more. Eddie matches him beat to beat.

They get lost into it, until some voices come from their side, and Eddie pushes him away against Steve’s protests. He doesn’t allow him to go too far, one of his hands holding Eddie’s face and the other his hip close to his.

“You want to wake up to some scandalous headlines?” Eddie asks with a smile.

“Maybe they will get the memo if they find me on my knees for a guy.”

“Getting ahead of ourselves here, Steve,” Eddie says, but Steve sees how his eyes darken.

“Sorry, did you have better plans for tonight?”

Eddie shakes his head, “nothing that could beat corrupting the golden boy.”

“You think our friends will forgive us if we just leave?”

“Jesus, I really hope they do, I’m not stepping back inside and getting distracted.”

Steve laughs and kisses Eddie again, just a short press of lips. “Lead the way then.”

****

Steve.hrrgtn

New instagram story

Image id: a group playing on a stage, the lights surround them, a sea of hands holding drinks and heads below. There is a caption on it

“The gig of the century”

@/corrodedcoffin

ClubHarrington: Steve Harrington just shared an Instagram story from a metal concert in Chicago.

        MrsHarrington: since when does steve like metal??

        Stevenation: omg!!! He’s in my city Whats he doing here!!!

        Stebitch: guys a friend of mine went to the concert and told me that the guitarist said he was taking groupie applications and started describing Steve when he listed the requirements

               + What???? That’s just creepy, I hope Steve gets away from that fast

               + omg!! Did anyone record it?? I need the video! I need to see Steve’s reaction to that!!

Stebitch: they are a very small band so no one was recording but I swear he did

               + do you guys think they are…. You know….

                       - Your mind

****

Steve walks back into the room with two glasses of water and kicks the door closed behind him. Eddie is still naked on the bed -Steve hasn’t put any clothes back on himself- and he is lying on his side, snickering while he looks at his phone. Steve stops, takes a second to admire Eddie’s naked back.

Steve’s phone pings on the nightstand. There’s only one person he has his sound on for.

“Did you seriously just send a meme to me?”

Eddie turns his face to look at him, “sorry, force of habit.”

Steve lets out a sigh and puts the glasses down on the nightstand. He gets on the bed and hugs Eddie from behind, hooking his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Come on, show me what’s so funny you had to send me now.”

Eddie scrolls back up.

tag list (sorry if I missed someone): @steddiefication @tailsfromthecrypt @orionchildofhades @coralineinwonderland @theohohmoment @what-if-a-dragon @juiceicicles @margaglitterdeath @sofadofax @estrellami-1 @dreamercec @bisexual-chaos-demon99 @queenie-ofthe-void @scoops-aboy86 @me-ig7 @efratfangirl @what-if-a-dragon @juiceicicles @margaglitterdeath @sofadofax  @estrellami-1 @dreamercec @bisexual-chaos-demon99  @queenie-ofthe-void @scoops-aboy86 @me-ig7 @efratfangirl @live-laugh-love-dietrich @yesdangerpls @nerdyglassescheeseychick @agree2disagre-kicks @fuzzyduxk @saramelaniemoon @disrespectedgoatman @aol19 @yikes-a-bee @adealwithher @coralineinwonderland @sanctumdemunson @comedictragedy @marklee-blackmore @karakro @yusukesmomjeans @lumoschildextra @pondypip @xtraordinarally @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale @child-of-cthulhu @shrimply-a-menace @ravenfrog

[little-jana]

"The Wrong Idea"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: Pregnancy misunderstanding (humorous), workplace teasing

Summary: The team thinks you're pregnant... why not have a little fun with them...

a/n: I think it's kinda obvious: I'm officially in my dad!hotch era and have sooo many ideas with this theme! Do you love it as much as I do? Do you want mooooore? 🪻

Being a member of the BAU often meant everyone on the team knew too much about each other. Spending countless hours together on cases and long flights left little room for privacy. Still, you hadn’t anticipated the whirlwind of chaos that erupted the moment they thought you were pregnant.

It started innocently enough, but as the speculation snowballed, it took on a life of its own—and the last person you expected to weigh in was Aaron Hotchner.

It began one morning at work, after a particularly rough case had kept alle of you up most of the night. You were leaning against the counter in the kitchenette, pouring yourself a cup of herbal tea instead of your usual coffee.

JJ appeared beside you, eyebrows raised. “Tea? Since when do you drink tea?”

You shrugged. “Just felt like it today.”

She tilted her head, studying you. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, a little confused by her sudden concern.

“Hmm,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

You didn’t think much of it until later that afternoon, when Garcia cornered you at your desk.

“You know, you’ve been looking absolutely radiant lately,” she said, her tone suspiciously sweet.

You glanced up at her. “Uh… thanks?”

“I’m serious,” she said, her eyes sparkling with something that looked a lot like mischief. “There’s just this… glow about you.”

“I think you’re imagining things,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, winking at you before flouncing off.

---

By the end of the day, the comments were piling up.

Emily handed you her snack halfway through the afternoon. “Here, you should eat this. You need to keep your strength up.”

“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

She just smiled knowingly and walked away.

Even Rossi got in on the act, offering you unsolicited advice about “balancing work and family life” while Derek kept smirking at you like he knew something you didn’t.

It wasn’t until you overheard JJ and Emily whispering in the break room that you finally pieced it together.

“Do you think she’s told Hotch yet?” JJ asked.

Emily shook her head. “No way. But he has to know, right? I mean, they’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

You froze, you teacup halfway to your lips.

They thought you were pregnant.

At first, you were too stunned to say anything. But the more you thought about it, the funnier it became.

You weren’t pregnant, obviously. But the team had convinced themselves otherwise, and their attempts at subtlety were laughable at best.

You decided not to deny it outright. If they wanted to jump to conclusions, who were you to stop them? Besides, watching them tiptoe around the subject was too entertaining to pass up.

Of course, your plan backfired almost immediately...

The teasing began the next morning, when Derek caught you yawning during the morning briefing.

“Rough night?” he asked, a sly grin spreading across his face.

You shot him a look. “Not any rougher than yours, Morgan.”

“Sure, sure,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just saying, you should take it easy. You know, for the... baby.”

The room went silent.

You felt your face heat up as everyone turned to look at you, their expressions ranging from curious to downright amused.

“The what?” Hotch asked, his tone sharp.

Derek froze, clearly realizing he’d overstepped. “Uh… no baby. I was just joking.”

Hotch’s gaze flickered to you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “Is there something I should know?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Garcia beat you to it.

“Oh, no, sir,” she said, grinning nervously. “Everything’s fine. Totally fine.”

Hotch looked unconvinced, but he didn’t press the issue. "We'll talk later about it."

The rest of the day was a blur of teasing comments and stolen glances. By lunchtime, you were ready to tear your hair out.

Garcia kept hovering around your desk, offering me snacks and bottles of water. JJ asked if you needed help with your workload. And Emily… well, Emily just smirked at you every time you passed her in the hallway.

You did y best to ignore them, but it wasn’t easy. Especially when Hotch kept looking at you like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle.

It all came to a head that evening, after we wrapped up a meeting in Hotch’s office.

You were gathering your things when he closed the door behind you, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” he asked, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your heart skipping a beat. “What do you mean?”

“The team seems to think you’re… expecting,” he said, his brow furrowing slightly.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “They’ve got some pretty wild imaginations, don’t they?”

He didn’t smile. “So, it’s not true?”

“Of course not,” you said, shaking your head. “Why would you even think that?”

“Because they won’t stop talking about it,” he said, his tone tinged with exasperation. “And you haven’t denied it.”

You hesitated, suddenly feeling a little guilty. “I didn’t mean for it to get out of hand. I just… didn’t correct them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Because it was funny,” you admitted, shrugging.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him. “But you love me anyway.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening. “I do,” he said quietly.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“And for the record,” he added, his voice even lower, “I wouldn’t mind if it were true.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You wouldn’t?”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Not at all.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, a rush of emotions swelling in your chest. “Well,” you said softly, “maybe someday.”

“Someday,” he agreed, pulling you into his arms.

---

The next morning, when Derek made another joke about baby names, you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re all ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“Ridiculously accurate,” Emily said, smirking.

You glanced at Hotch, who was standing nearby with his arms crossed. He caught your eye and gave you a small, knowing smile.

“Not this time,” you said, grinning. “But you���ll be the first to know when it is.”

The team stared at you, their mouths falling open.

And for the first time all week, you felt like you had the upper hand.

[jackabbotsfakeleg]

As Above, So Below I Chapter 4- Souvenir

Synopsis: You start the nightshift with Jack Abbot, and make good on that arrangement of yours, but not before learning just how much comfort you both find in darkness Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Fem!Reader and Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader   Word count: 4k Warnings: Discussion of mental illness, suicide attempt, self-harm, mania, trauma, the existential dread of being alive, our favorite sad boys, dark humor, and some trauma. Some explicit references. 18+, MDNI  A/N: This is the sad boy Jack Abbot intro and next chapter will be the explicit Jack Abbot smutfest. Work has been mentally exhausting this week, but if you want to get sad deep in your bones, read this while listening to “Souvenir” by Boygenius, and “Go Home” by Julien Baker. Thank you for reading, I appreciate every single one of you.  Chapter 3 I Chapter 5

Chapter 4: Souvenir

Pulling thorns out of my palm Work a midnight surgery When you cut a hole into my skull Do you hate what you see like I do?

"You should stay."  Robby extends the offer, words attached to an arm around your waist  lips to your collarbone, and the promise to make you breakfast.  Pancakes and coffee

“Next time.” You called an Uber, Pressed a kiss quickly to the corner of his mouth as he lingered in the doorway, and promised to text him that you got home safe. The decision to leave was fully rooted in fear. Not the fear that you’d want more, or that he’d change his mind. But the fear that if he looked at you long enough You’d tell him everything that makes it hard for you to be back here.

Didn’t get murdered by my uber driver. 

Good. Wish you would have stayed.

Gotta ice my back.

Don’t even start.

Don’t miss me too much.

Too late. 

The transition to the nightshift a few days later confirmed what you had known all along: This must be the place. A dark sense of humor; a group of misfits who prefer the moon over the sun; and a fast-paced, nothing-is-off-limits vibe.

You could have guessed, judging by the fact that John Shen was particularly fond of it. And you had been close friends for years. He had been shaped by 3am study sessions that ended in white castle burgers for breakfast, never met an emo night at Brillobox he didn't get dressed up for, and constantly argued about Kid A being a better Radiohead record than OK Computer. He was the poster-child for millennial purgatory - forced to exist in between Gen X and Gen Z, shoulder all the blame, and somehow look nonplussed while doing it. He had been in medical school at the same time you were doing your graduate program, lived in an apartment blocks from you, and had made it a point to be the guinea pig for any psychological assessment you needed to practice. He would volunteer in hopes that he could finally convince his conservative parents that he wasn't mentally ill for listening to My Chemical Romance, and he hoped that the assessments could "provide him papers" to explain his completely unbothered millennial personality. Neither of those two things happened, but he did make for a good wingman who could stitch up the gash in your knee after drunkenly parkouring over a fire hydrant in the Strip District. You kept in touch over the years, through trauma dumping and memes. He truly was one of the perks of returning--an actual no-bullshit platonic friend. 

On the day you started nights, he waited for you outside of the hospital with another mystery Dunkin’, he of all people appreciating the establishment for what it was – an absolute dumpster fire.

"My wife!" He calls out to you, in a perfect Borat voice, arms outstretched, "You ready for nights?" "I'm so glad to see you, even if I still cannot imagine you as an attending." you graciously take the Dunkin from his hand, your finger flipping the badge on his chest, "most of my mismatched scars are from your shitty stitch-jobs"  "First of all, how dare you" He laughs, swatting your hand away "you told me I did a great job. And second, I was drunk, and a medical student." “I really have missed you.” You smile, “And I really am looking forward to the change in scenery.” “The day shift is all suits and stiffs, and we’re absolutely unhinged.” "My kind of crowd. Anything hot goss I should know?" You poke an elbow into his side, "Parker Ellis is our ride or die, and I’m still trying to assert dominance with Abbot, so if you see me giving him the cold shoulder, it's because I just want him to love and respect me."

Ellis was already at the nurses’ station when you both arrive, waiting on the day shift hand-off. You set your things down in your office before making your way back to the desk. “A welcome speech for our newest member?” Shen tips his drink towards Ellis. "Always remember the third rule of fight club," Ellis smiles, "just try your best and have fun." "I thought the third rule was that if it was your turn to bring snacks, bring enough for everyone" You correct her, “just happy to be here.” "I wouldn't jinx yourself" she adds, shaking her head, "the behavioral health beds are the star of the show on nights." "Honestly, I never met a five point bed restraint I didn't love" You shrug, "makes me nostalgic for prison." "Where's Abbot?" Shen asks "Haven’t seen him, but you know him, he'll probably just apparate out of a cauldron of bats." Ellis shrugs, rolling her eyes, "Still waiting on the hand off from Robby, but he's been swamped all day."

"Hey, one of you psych?" the charge nurse turns towards the three of you, phone to her ear, "Sounds like there's a patient on the roof.”

"Seriously?" your eyes wide, "how the fuck did a patient get on the roof?" You make your way towards the elevator. “Night shift starting off strong” Shen calls out after you ,”My money’s on Myrna” “Don’t worry she won’t jump” Ellis adds, like it’s comforting, “she just likes the wind in her hair.”

The elevator only goes so far before you’re forced to take the stairs. Three flights; 6 steps a piece. By the time you get to the door to the roof, you’re out of breath, a bolt of lightning shooting down your leg with each step.

You had seen someone jump one time.  The descent of a body from a bridge. You hadn’t gotten there in time,  hadn’t said the right thing,  hadn’t reached out quick enough to stop them. You'll never forget it.  and you still haven't found a way to squash the swell of emotions when you're reminded of it, Even now, tears burn your eyes as you shoulder the door to the roof open.

You expect to see something reminiscent of that traumatic memory a chance to make it right;  A do over;  a success story. And instead, you’re met with silence, the cool air against your cheeks, and Jack Abbot, standing too close to the edge.

“Oh, for fucks’ sake, this your idea of a joke?” You’re out of breath and annoyed. “Took you long enough” He doesn’t bother turning around to look at you, “although your bedside manner could use some work.”  “This isn’t funny,” he hears it in your voice, and you quickly wipe your eyes on the back of your hand. 

When he turns to face you, his expression has changed from amusement of landing a solid joke on your first night, to concern.

“Fuck, are you crying?” 

“You jumping or what?" you ask moving closer to him, so that you’re shoulder to shoulder, "no time like the present."

"Well, it's not funny anymore if you're going to cry."

"I'm not crying" 

"riiiigghhhtt" it's drawn out in disbelief

"I just have 'losing a patient to jumping off a roof' in my eye." you hit him in the shoulder, "thought maybe I’d get a do-over."

"ahh" he nods, "well fuck, I really fumbled that one. thought maybe I could get a laugh out of you, maybe a sarcastic plea not to do it, you know, some theatrics."

"Sorry I ruined your fun." 

"Sorry I made you cry."

"You didn't make me cry," You correct him, "and if you tell anyone that you did, I will absolutely make you cry in front of everyone downstairs."

"Promise?" he smirks, "I could use some public humiliation to keep me humble."

"Of course you could, Doctor Abbot," you shake your head, rolling your eyes, "With your prolonged eye contact and minimal startle response, I bet you haven’t been humbled in a while."

"And? That a problem?” "I find it endearing" you nod, turning on your heel to walk back towards the door, "I will see you downstairs after you're done brooding up here"

"Hey Wheeler?" He calls back to you, “You still good on our arrangement? It is nights after all"

"Come to my office and find out?" 

"We said not at work" he turns around to face you, eyes dark, voice low.

"You said not to let anyone at work find out," you correct him, smile on your face, opening the door, “I can be quiet.”

“With that mouth? Yeah, right.” he shakes his head

You close the door behind you and head back downstairs towards the elevator.

“I was just looking for you,” The elevator opens and Robby’s standing inside, “Jack up there?”

“Yes, just convinced him not to jump” You attempt to make a joke, wincing when you step inside.

“You okay?” He holds the door open.

“Yeah,” you lean your head back against the wall of the elevator, “rushed up here because a nurse said a patient was up here. I just need a minute.”

“You want me to take a look at it?” He steps back inside the elevator when you shake your head ‘no,’ the door closing behind him, and reaches out to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, “at least let me take a look at you.”

“You know the rules” You remind him, his face inches from yours.

“Fine,” he huffs, taking a step back from you, “I’ll be good.”

The elevator doors open again to reveal Abbot, standing with his arms folded across his chest.

“Really, Robinavitch?” He steps inside the elevator, in between the two of you, “not cool man.”

“I just happened to be in the elevator” Robby replies, hands up in front of him like he’s innocent, “she’s all yours.”

“I just love being objectified at 7pm in the evening, “you speak up, smirking

“I bet you fucking do” Abbot shakes his head, turning to Robby, “Was she this mouthy on day shift?”

“Worse” Robby adds, shrugging, “offered to blow me in her office”

“’Atta girl” Abbot looks to you and you roll your eyes, “I’ll be by for mine around 2am.” 

The elevator doors open before you’re able to get a word in, the two of them exiting to find the rest of the night shift for hand off.  You contemplate going after them, but instead, you watch the shift change play out, taking in the inside jokes between attendings and residents, trying to get a read on what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Ellis wasn’t lying when she said the behavioral health beds were the star of the show on nights.

The first consult came in less than an hour after your shift started

A 17-year-old boy, with a 7-inch laceration from wrist to elbow, reopened from over a week ago, deep enough to need stitches but not deep enough to accomplish his goal. He never stopped crying, not after the pain medications kicked in, not after his parents told him they loved him, not after his medications were adjusted, and not after you sat with him for over an hour reminding him that progress was not linear, and that engagement in self-harm is not a badge of weakness or failure.

The second consult came in fifteen minutes after that – a man initially thought to be unhoused, running naked through Schenley Park.

“Surprisingly not methamphetamines,” Abbot had noted, as you waited in the doorway, watching security staff strap him down into five-point restraints. He fought the entire way, the brute strength of mania alive and well, and you only got spit on once. Once he was down and treated to a cocktail of Haldol and Ativan, he informed you that he was Jesus Christ reincarnated and earned himself a ticket upstairs to the inpatient hospitalization, albeit not as far upstairs as he was hoping.

By the time the third, fourth, and fifth consults rolled around, you were on a first name basis with the security staff and night nurses. It was fast-paced but not unmanageable, nostalgic of the crisis contacts you were used to in prison, but with more reasonable and less manipulative patients. Here, the patients weren’t calling you nine kinds of bitch as you watch them insert a pen into their urethra just to get a trip to the hospital and some opiates. For the first time, since you left, it felt like you were actually addressing mental health concerns rather than attempting to manage behavior for secondary gain.

“You’re clearing psych beds faster than I can fill them,” Abbot barely looks up from the note he’s charting

“Just trying to up that patient satisfaction score,” You reply, “Not sure if any of them are lucid enough to fill out the survey but it’s the thought that counts.”

“Might just save my ass from another impromptu lecture from Gloria.” Abbot replies, a smile spreading across his face

“Is that a thank you?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, “wouldn’t hurt to hear you say it.”

“Thank you Doctor Wheeler” it’s drawn out and a little bit patronizing, but you’ll take the compliment.

You spend the next several hours rounding on the patients on the behavioral health unit, introducing yourself to the nursing staff and psychiatry resident covering nights—the medications to your therapy, and taking stock of the mental health resources on the unit. Everything is outdated, testing instruments, books—you name it, it’s likely from the 1980’s. And all of it was yours to manage, including the grant applications for research projects and the applications for additional budgeting for the fiscal year that had been piling up on your desk. 

It’s nearly 5am when you’re interrupted by Jack entering your office without knocking. He sets down a sandwich on your desk before taking a seat on your couch. You look up from the note you’re working on and watch him. He looks tired, more disheveled than he did on the roof, but still manages to crack a smile the longer you look at him.

“Now who’s got the prolonged eye contact” He chuckles, nodding to the sandwich on your desk, “Have you eaten?”

“I was able to eat one solitary granola bar, while the guy in four was getting strapped down.” You nod, “what did you bring me?”

“A grilled cheese” He replies, a smug look on his face, clearly pleased with himself, “Had to fight a nurse for that, by the way. Figured we could share it.”

“I’m honored,” you split the sandwich, handing him the other half, “Rough night out there?”

“Fuck yeah” he nods, looking down at his hands, “feels like we were drowning there for a minute. And now I’m taking a 20-minute break while the dust settles.”

“A well-deserved twenty minutes” You agree, standing up to shut the blinds of your office, trying to block some of the fluorescent light out of your office, switching on your desk lamp, “better?”

“Perfect” He nods, a smirk appearing, “Now, about that conversation in the elevator.”

“Sorry, all the blow job appointments are 30 minutes” You shrug, leaning against the door, “just missed the window.”

“Bummer” he shakes his head, standing up, “Although, you were the one who said come to your office and find out”

“I did say that” you acknowledge, watching him close the space between you, eyes locked on yours the whole way, “Although you questioned my ability to be quiet”

“You don’t strike me as the quiet type.” his face inches from yours, his hands on either side of your head on the door.

Got him right where you want him, eyes on you, waiting for your next move.

Time to humble the man in front of you.

“Ohhh Jack” you moan, just loud enough that anyone walking by can probably hear you, “Just like that” He clamps his hand over your mouth, pushing your head against the door, a soft thud, his eyes wide.

“Jesus Christ” he whispers through gritted teeth, “are you fucking insane?”

You shake your head against his hand, raising an eyebrow when he doesn’t immediately uncover your mouth.

“You gonna be good if I let go?” He asks, only uncovering your mouth after you nod. 

“That’s what you get” You poke your finger against his chest, “For making me run to the roof.”

The alarm on his watch beeps and he sighs in frustration –his 20 minutes are up 

“Don’t ruin this” He shakes his head, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, “You want to get breakfast after work and then you can come to my place and be as loud as you want?”

“Perfect.” You duck under his arm, and open the door, “Pamela’s?”

“Fine, but the original location, not the shitty Oakland location.” He nods, exiting your office and back into the arms of the night shift. 

You make it through the last two hours and it feels like you’ve been hit by a truck. The change in sleep-wake cycles has not been kind and while you’re not necessarily physically tired, your brain feels like oatmeal. The handoff of information to the psychology and psychiatry residents is the last thing on your to-do list, and after you rattle off the last of the orders and updates, you make your way outside, away from the noise. Shen and Ellis are the first to head out, both offering a high-five to you for surviving your first night shift. Jack is the last out, keys in his hand as he spots you.

“You ready?” He asks, “I’ll drive.”

You accept his offer and follow him to his car.

Pamela’s Diner is a Pittsburgh tradition—an absolute legend. Sure, they’ve got the same shit as every other restaurant, but if you’re trying to do it right, there is only one right order: Stuffed strawberry hotcakes and lyonnaise potatoes. It’s cash only, the grill looks like it probably has never been cleaned, and it slaps every. fucking. Time.

Abbot is more than happy to oblige your millennial personality trait of ordering ahead, and your food is ready by the time you two leave work and cross the 16th Street Bridge into the Strip District. You wouldn’t have pegged him --the attending with an affinity for isolation and darkness, as someone who would live here, one of the busiest neighborhoods in the city.

His apartment is similar to Robby’s--an open concept with natural light. There's one huge window in the living room overlooking the river, revealing a perfect view and the ability to maintain privacy. The decorations are minimal, aside from a few well-placed, and somewhat hidden military photos. 

Something you had learned while working with veterans at the VA during practicum was that the celebratory photos and keepsakes rarely, if ever, existed without reminders of the trauma and destruction they had witnessed, and at times, had been a part of. 

Sometimes it felt like they kept them as proof that it wasn’t all for nothing—the beacon of light in the swell of darkness. 

His apartment felt relatively empty, enough furniture to give off the appearance someone lived here, but not enough to feel warm. This was a place to sleep, not a place to live.

You set the food down on the island in the kitchen, already tugging at the plastic knot at the top of the bag. 

“I haven’t had this since I’ve been back” You’re the first to speak since entering the apartment.

“Yeah?” He asks, watching you open the containers, “You one of those people who think Pamela’s Is the be-all end-all of breakfast?”

"We cannot go any further if you are a Deluca’s stan." You narrow your eyes at him, handing him the Styrofoam container, which he accepts graciously "don't malign the lyonnaise potatoes in my presence."

“Wasn't expecting you to be this defensive about breakfast,” He laughs, retreating to the couch, “It’s incredibly arousing.”

"Mostly the hunger talking, but this sleep-wake cycle reset is no joke" You add, joining him “Wasn’t expecting to crash so hard.”

He lets you eat in silence. It's not uncomfortable or awkward, especially after talking to patients all night, but here you are, alone with Jack Abbot in his living room, full of pancakes, and fading quickly.

“Come on,” He stands up and nods towards the hallway, “You need a nap, in an actual bed.”

“I’m fine” You shake your head, “I promise. I did not come here to nap”

“you’re exhausted, and I could also use a nap.” He insists, disappearing down the hallway towards his bedroom

"This where the nightmares happen?" By the time you reach the doorway, he's already laying down, hands behind his head, eyes closed.  He pats the spot next to him and you oblige. 

"You think I'm dark and broody" He comments, a smile on his face, "what other assumptions have you made about me?"

"Not an assumption" you correct him, "that was an observation."

"Oh, come on, humor me. I did just buy you breakfast" he replies, "and even though I’m the one with the prolonged eye contact, you've been trying to get a read on me this entire time”

"Fair," you agree, "I just think you and I are very similar."

"Go on." He states, waiting for you to continue

"Not if you want to keep this thing all surface level bullshit and fun."  you give him the opportunity for an out. 

"Come on, kid." 

"Trauma recognizes trauma" You add, “Why’d you get into emergency medicine?”

“Thought I’d be ready for a change after the years of trauma in the military,” he chuckles, “and instead I found comfort in running right back into the flames. It's a good distraction. It keeps my mind on the medicine and off some of the other stuff."

"Sure, surface level it seems like a commonsense decision to take your combat medic skills and apply them to a hospital," You agree, "but why the ER?"

"I like the fast pace, the comradery, and the distraction" He replies

"You're skirting around the big, bad, terrible thing" you counter, "It's deeper than that."

"I don't know." He’s quiet.

"You do know," you shake your head, "I'm guessing the thing that haunts you is the same thing that haunts me."

"You tell me then, if you've figured it out." 

"You need to take all of that pain and suffering and make it useful." You hear him exhale when you say it, like he's been holding his breath the entire time, "I'm sure over time you habituate to a lot of it, to death, to losing patients. But that pain sticks around, and the deep fucking sadness? that sticks around too. So, you turn it around into something useful"

"A second chance at saving everyone I couldn't" He rubs a hand over his face, "what do you know about pain?" 

"It didn't start when I was stabbed, it started long before that. And I still feel it. The pain, the sadness that's deep in my bones, the fear that nothing will ever change and the blind faith that it fucking has to. It's the pain and suffering of humanity. Of seeing the world for what it is and not being able to turn a blind eye to it. And it's the best fucking thing about me. And it's probably the best fucking thing about you too.”

“Like moths to a flame” he states, “you and I.”

Neither of you say anything else. Instead, he reaches for you,  Pulls you into his side, Your head on his chest. 

Sometimes you just need a person to be quiet with and sad next to

Tag list is open!  @loud-mouph @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @thebumbqueen @emilia-the-artist @boldlyherdream @felicisimor@eugene-emt-roe @i-mushi @andabuttonnose @moonlightmvrvel @miss-me-jack @dantemorenatalie @qardasngan@agreeewrites @aloudplace @painment @artsymaddie @d1n3e @damnitsthings @thicficbich1@readinwnoon @imagines-r-s @meowmeowyoongles @ikindier @katastrophic04 @lexibearsworld @luna-loves08 @herlovelykiss @all-by-myself98 @livingavilaloca @trustme3-13 @yourdaydreamerfan

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Last line is credited to Meg Fee, which has haunted me since the day that I read it on her blog

[bidisasterevankinard]

Ravi the matchmaker

based on this and for @thecarrott who loved it

Ravi fixes his shirt, loving that Buck and Tommy decided to semi-formal style for their wedding and he didn’t need to sweat in a hot uncomfortable suit, staying near Buck and watching Tommy cry, when Buck said ‘I do’.

And now time for his best man’s speech.

“Ladies and gentlemens, for those little who don’t know me, I'm Ravi. Once I was a probie who was trained by Buck and now we’re partners on heavy rescue. But the reason I was chosen by Buck is not just it. You see Chim, as he said, was the reason this couple whose love we celebrate today,” Ravi raises his glass to shit grinning Buck and Tommy whose two pairs of  bright and happy eyes, but red from a lot of happy tears, “met almost three years ago. And I,” Ravi proudly smiles. “was the reason they,” Ravi looks at kids, “hang out one night and leave each other wanting more and pining with the idea that it’s not done yet,” everyone laughs.

Then Ravi blushes, sending hate look at the Buck, “but I also the reason they got back together. And even though without me they’d be pining for god knows how long, they still with another best man bullied me into telling you the whole story. So prepare to laugh. And remember I had a lot of tequila in me thanks to one Evan Buckley… Sorry Buckley-Kinard. ”

-

Two years ago

“And that is h-h’w Hen and Karen’ found the way to each other again…” Chim hiccups, “and here we are,” he makes fake bows when Eddie starts applauding.

Ravi smiles at the happy couple, hoping to one day be as happy as them. It’s sweet to know you’re so loved.

But Ravi sees how the smile on one face doesn’t reach the eyes of one person who tries hard to hide it. Buck. The person who got really quiet during the whole story, looking lost, and taking two more shots, as if trying to get away from something.

Ravi knows from what. He saw Buck look at Tommy’s number during the night several times. All the time closing the contact information, before opening it up again.

That won’t do it. Ravi saw them together, listening to Buck talking about Tommy and saw the way Tommy smiled when he saw Buck that night in the bar weeks ago.

If those old schoolers won’t grow up and talk, it seems Rvai had to make them.

“Hey, Buck, my phone’s dead. Is that ok if I’ll call my sister to come and get me?”

Man just nods, opening up his phone, and Ravi smiles at him, patting his shoulder.

“Thanks, man you’re the best.”

Ravi doesn’t sway when he’s walking. But just barely. Two or three last shots were too much. But Buck paid, so it’s fine.

Quickly making sure Ravi’s alone outside, he opens the phone, finding the number he needs.

Please, don’t be on shift

“‘Van?” a sleepy voice answers, “what’s wrong?”

“Tommy, it’s Ravi,” Ravi makes his best sad voice, but then thinks that it’s unfair to say ‘it’ to Tommy even for a second. He can’t say that Buck’s dead. Not even for a moment to get them back together. What if it’ll break Tommy’s heart? 

But he needs a plan. And quickly. He remembered Buck’s home screen. Buck holding baby Han, smiling like it was him in labor and now has his baby in his arms.

The lamp bulb brightens up.

“Tommy, Buck’s in labor. It’s yours baby. There were complications. The baby and Buck need you.”

Silence.

Ravi checks that the call is still there.

“Chim told you how he got Hen and Karen back together,” Tommy asks without any sounds of him moving to get here and Ravi feels sad. Doesn’t he love Buck even a little bit?

“Yes.”

“And how much tequila did you have?”

“Much.”

“Yeah, I figured. But you had this bright idea on your drunk head. I was mentally building the crib for a second on a sober one.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with my plan,” Ravi pouts. It was a good plan if only he remembered that Tommy was around when Chim did it to Hen and Karen.

“Ravi,” Tommy seems to try and control his laugh, “Evan is cis man. He can’t get pregnant even if I’d give my best shot,” Ravi’s pretty sure he hears the whisper ‘and god did I give it my best shot’.

Blinking, Ravi feels like wires that tequila unplugged in his head are plugged back. He can’t stop himself from laughing too loud.

“Oh fuck. Please can you not tell anyone?”

“Nuh, Ravi, sorry, when Evan tomorrow will ask me what made me come and talk with him, I’ll tell him the truth. But I promise to keep it from Chim till the wedding.”

Ravi can live with it.

“Wait, you will talk to Buck?”

He hears a deep exhale that sounds too hopeful.

“You wouldn’t try and matchmake us if there was nothing for me to hope about, so yes. I’ll talk to him. Now go and give Evan his phone back. And delete this phone call.”

“Yes! Good luck, Tommy.”

Ravi does as he’s told, deleting the call history and then calling his sister, faking to everyone that she was not answering the number for a while.

Buck🦌

Next evening he has the new texts sitting in his notifications.

Thanks, Rav❤️

You can’t imagine what it means to me

Even if I can’t believe you said Tommy that I was in labor 🤣

-

Everyone in the room laughs too loud and Ravi can’t feel bad because that evening might have actually never happened or happened not soon enough if he didn't.

And he definitely is ok with some other people's jokes because it’s him who is going to be the godfather of baby girl Buckley-Kinard that is expected to be born next month.

He’s sure he and Skylar Robbie are going to be huge friends.

[cacoetheswriting]

Please more Congressman Bucky and his assistant - I beg of you. I love your writing so much, been a silent follower for a long time!

stop it omg! i'm glad you're here and i hope you enjoy this <3

pairing: congressman!bucky barnes x assistant!fem!reader word count: 1.5k

content warnings: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, workplace romance in the making (aka slow burn), power dynamic imbalance (boss/employee), age gap (although not necessarily specified, reader would be mid 20s and bucky is obviously over 100 lol), mutual pining, use of pet names, fluff, jealousy and slightly possessive bucky - unedited - if i missed anything, pls let me know!

a/n: technically part 2 of this fic, but can be totally read as a standalone.

A document remains hidden in the bottom drawer of Bucky’s desk, under some random paperwork that no one will ever need.

You’re his assistant. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s how it should be — despite said document itching at the back of his mind. The blank Consensual Relationship Agreement (just in case, or whatever bullshit he’s telling himself).

Days pass as normally as they can. Following a rather flirty lunch, you’re careful around him, not wanting to say anything untoward. Bucky notices this shift immediately and ultimately decides, despite the overwhelming urge to ask what’s on your mind, if you’re as confused as he is, equally lost in the possibilities, not to point it out. 

News of a job opportunity in London spreads through the office like wildfire. Working for the Prime Minister, now that’s experience Bucky can’t guarantee and he makes himself forget about the document along with the attached attraction and one conversation that led to almost… nothing. It led to nothing.

You don’t say anything to anyone, until the day of his big speech.

Karen, Head of Personnel and human resources police, informs the future congressman you took a couple of personal days. She doesn’t give any details, but Bucky suspects it has something to do with London. A pain in his chest, a crack.

Luckily, the event goes without a hitch. Bucky is a hit. His speech was impressive, jaw muscles relaxed — a vast improvement from the last couple of times, and there's only one person to thank.

Afterwards, he’s redirected to a different room where a portion of the attending voters, who are also big campaign sponsors, gather to meet with him personally for a further discussion. He’s circling the crowd, shaking hands and waving.

There, amongst the few, Bucky’s gaze immediately latches itself to you. Like a magnet. Surprise graces his otherwise brooding features and he chews the inside of his cheek, fighting back a smile.

You wave. Fingers dangling one by one.

“Excuse me,” he says to one of the sponsors currently accosting him, “I’ll be right back.”

All eyes are on him as he crosses the room, but he doesn’t care. You’re with him, not in London, like he suspected you might be.

“What are you doing here?” His tone is pleasant, welcoming. “It’s your day off.”

“I’ve been told to remind you about a charity dinner for Survivors of The Blip.”

“You could have called,” he says simply, “I’m a pretty relaxed boss. You don’t need to uproot your day to do your job, especially during your time off.”

“I know you don’t really check your phone when you’re attending these things,” you say, tilting your head sideways. “So I figured it’ll be easier to come here and remind you personally.”

You smile sweetly. And because silence stretches, as he holds your eye contact a little too long, you add:

“Plus I have a date in the area.”

Bucky’s jaw locks at the word ‘date’. The sting of jealousy is worse than thinking he may never see you again.

“I watched your speech on my way here,” you tell the brooding man, not letting him stew. “You did good. Definitely an improvement from last time.”

He drops his shoulders, relaxing, and lets out a low, breathy chuckle.

“I took your advice.”

You arch a brow. “Had S-E-X?”

“No, no.” Bucky shakes his head, smirking. “To test that theory, I’m waiting for a uh…”

“Worthy mate?”

He snorts. “Something like that.”

There’s another beat of silence. Charged with something far beyond platonic. He’s fighting the sense to reach for you, here in front of all these people.

“You should get back to mingling,” you say. “There will be a car waiting for you out front in an hour taking you to the hotel. You have a room, number 313. Here’s the key and you’ll find your tux hanging on the wardrobe door.”

“And you?” Bucky asks unintentionally. The key in his Vibranium palm, your fingers still gently pressing against the plastic.

“Me?”

“You know where I’ll be. Shouldn’t I know where you are?” He’s testing the waters. You can tell him to fuck off, he’ll understand. He’ll hate every second of it, but he’ll understand.

Instead, you roll your eyes. “I’ll send you a location pin, boss.”

And with that, you saunter out of the room. 

He watches you go off on your date with a sinking feeling in his chest. Rationally, Bucky knows it’s ridiculous. He’s got no claim on you. Aside from occasional light flirting, there’s nothing else going on between the two of you. He may want there to be — especially late at night, when he’s in bed all alone — but from what he hears, London is on the table and he won’t hold you back from chasing a dream.

The charity dinner is just more politics.

Bucky is bored out of his mind. He wishes for a friendly face. Sometimes Wilson attends these things, but tonight doesn’t seem to be on Captain America’s agenda. So he sits alone at the large banquet table and nurses a whiskey.

Someone will approach the odd time. Thank him for his good work or wish him luck in the upcoming election. He politely shakes their hand, makes small talk, and lets them walk away to the next table.

He thinks to thank you tomorrow. For the work you do. All these people, telling him how great he is for the personalised emails with detailed information on campaign progress. The meeting reminders, and the efficient follow-ups with transcribed minutes. The overall care. You do that.

Uncharted feelings aside, losing you to London would be a blow to his campaign.

And just as Bucky is thinking of possible ways to influence you to stay, his phone buzzes. He retrieves it from the inside pocket of his tux. Your name graces his screen and the brunette man can’t help the smile that circles his lips.

The text is simple. A location pin, as promised, to a restaurant a block away.

He types: Received with thanks.

Three dots appear, then disappear. One minute passes and nothing. Bucky thinks you must be enjoying your date and is about to lock his phone, put it away, when it vibrates in his grasp once more.

You: In case charity becomes too boring.

Bucky blinks at the words. He re-reads the text a couple of times to really make sure you’ve sent it, and even after he’s done so, he’s not sure what to make of it.

He sends: Am I faking a work emergency?

You: ???

Bucky: What about your date?

You: I wouldn’t be texting my boss if I was enjoying myself.

Then, a few seconds later.

You: No show.

The brunette man’s grip tightens around the glass in his hand. Anger rises, bubbles up inside his chest, waiting to burst. He does his best to suppress the feeling, but the thought of you sitting alone at a restaurant, stood up by some dickhead, makes it difficult.

He’s up on his feet, making his way through the crowd before he can talk himself out of the idea.

Outside, the air is chilling. Bucky hopes it’s not a sign of what’s to come. He walks down the dimly lit streets of the city, phone in one hand because even though he’s got your current location memorised, the blue dot is enticing. He can’t let it disappear.

He can’t let you disappear.

There it is again, the thought of losing you to London. Creeping up on him, then falling like a ton of bricks. Bucky quickly shakes his head. Trying to suppress what he’s feeling about this particular scenario. Now is not the time.

Nearing the restaurant, Bucky’s movement falters. He sees you standing outside. One arm hugging the long coat closer to your body, the other down your side, flicking ash off a cigarette. You lift your head in his direction, almost as if you can feel his gaze on you, and a smile flashes across your features.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show,” you say as he approaches. Honey-like tone, although a splinter of sadness.

“There’s only so much mingling I can handle.” Bucky’s careful with his words.

You raise a brow. “I suppose I’m flattered. Not every boss would choose his PA over a fancy dinner.”

He swallows. I’d choose you over everything, seems like too loaded of an answer. But the words are there, at the tip of his tongue. He just can’t push himself to say them. Yet.

“Should we go in?” Bucky asks, hand at the back of his head, uneasy, not wanting to let silence win because when it’s quiet, you might decide this — whatever this is — is a mistake. He’ll unintentionally push you towards London.

“I uh, I actually gave the table up,” you answer, putting the cigarette out, and he tries to hide his disappointment.

He swallows a breath, arm falling back down to his side. Then, Bucky looks around. Some passers-by point, whisper. His lips purse into a tight, fake smile. He waves and mouths hello, as always polite because that’s how he was raised, but truthfully, he wants you alone.

He’d even settle for alone-ish.

“But I’m assuming you didn’t eat?” The brooding brunette wonders, catching your eyes once again.

You shake your head in response.

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” Charming tone and that damn moniker making your cheeks bloom with blood.

Bucky proceeds to turn on his heel and starts to walk, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you’re following — which, to his delight, you are.

With a bright smile on your face.

as always, thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[saythatuwill]

android!vessel ♡ hcs/thoughts . . .

now playing: always, everytime // the wrecks

hello my friends! thanks for bearing with me for the past few days, WE ARE SO FUCKING BACK!!!! isn't it like a little crazy that i began posting about android!vessel literally ONE WEEK before the line "i was your robot companion"? thank u to everyone who msged me like SHERRY!!!!! SHERRYYYYY!!!!!! LOOOOOK /silly

oh and THANK U to @astronoids for helping me come up with one of these!! ^w^ and for their general support of this au, i just felt like they needed the love for it.

if there is anything you're curious about when it comes to android!vess, my asks are always open! these are sorta misc hcs so i'm down to elaborate or share even more.

tags: @concretejunglefm, @fadingangelwisp, @chey-h, @xmads-omensx (if you're on this list SPECIFICALLY for noah content, i'm sorry! i need to sort everything out again!!!)

♡ vessel is a HUGE daydreamer, maybe to the extent of maladaptive daydreaming? 

♡ i like to think that because sleep was constantly messing with androids, changing their parts, adding new features they shouldn't have etc, vessel ended up getting a projection system. android!noah has this too, but while his works correctly, vessel's doesn't.

♡ it was added to be able to project images and videos directly before vessel's eyes and of course, in his "mind". it was used as psychological torture when it came to the cult, but now that vessel is free, it's not used the same way. (unless it glitches, sometimes it flashes unwanted things at him.)

♡ he is a very natural storyteller because of this, he can vividly see ideas and images in his mind, and sometimes he'll pace around the house or in the backyard for hours.

♡ sometimes he can trigger it himself, other times it sorta just happens, like if he hears music or other sounds, or maybe he sees something that just sorta awakens him.

♡ he struggles with snapping out of it on his own at times, but whenever he does he usually tries to write it down, or he starts drawing or painting whatever it is he saw.

♡ speaking of that, vessel is quite the artist and writer! he enjoys visual art, poetry, and writing stories (fiction, usually fantasy-based).

♡ when he first moved into your house he sorta stood around like a statue or followed you around like a lost puppy. you're a busy person! gotta keep him occupied somehow. you don't really need a 6'4 masked android staring you down while you work on your cases. 

♡ one day you came back from work with a bag full of miscellaneous stuff. both from shopping and from some of your friends at work. full of books, sketchpads, paint, notebooks, yarn, couple of sports-related things. threw it into his arms like "you my friend need some fuckin' hobbies."

♡ he didn't do much with it for a while. he has his own bedroom in your house with basic furniture so it was all just kinda on the floor or on his desk.

♡ his bedroom is very much not decorated btw, at least not in the start. you told him he can decorate it, or if he has a vision you'd be down to help him make some of it happen. he looked at you like you were speaking a different language.

♡ he started with trying the sports stuff, generic basketball yknow. he was in the parking lot for like an hour sorta just. bouncing it. throwing it a couple times. holding it awkwardly. was not his thing.

♡ tried the yarn, because y'know, maybe knitting could be his calling. 15 minutes later you check in on him he is somehow tangled in the yarn. 

♡ "how the hell did you manage to do this?"

♡ "... i cannot say for certain."

♡ you had to untangle him, every time he tried to do it himself (because he INSISTED he could get himself out of the predicament) he made it worse

♡ books next, maybe he's into reading! this kickstarted writing for him. he seemed to be very invested in the books you'd gotten, you hardly saw him for DAYS.

♡ by like day 3 you were getting sorta worried about him (you totally did not miss him. no. never.) so you decided to check in. you set up a corkboard for him on his wall in case he wanted to put stuff on it, it is COVERED in papers with ideas and sketches and he is going AT IT. 

♡ whenever he actually finishes something he's working on, he presents it to you like how a kid shares a drawing w their parent. (you think he is so fucking talented)

♡ also, he talks very formally. and he's not very good at understanding expressions. like. shit like "elephant in the room"

♡ "there are no elephants present in this room, (name). an elephant would not be able to fit in this space."

♡ he's gentle giant coded. but if it came down to it... he would absolutely fucking kill for you. he will protect you no questions asked and not just because he is a bodyguard model. you mean a lot to him! scary dog privilege!

♡ vessel, ii, iii, and iv all ended up in different homes after being saved from sleep but they do still hang out! vessel went out of his way to repair all of those friendships from the damage they took during the cult. (vessel blames himself for everything. it is not his fault.)

♡ they like to hang out in your backyard usually, usually they sit in this little circle in the grass and chat. they could talk for hours. or iii, being the bad influence, convinces the rest of them to do some bullshit that leads to you having to sit them down and scold them like children.

♡ he doesn't laugh a whole lot, but when he does it is absolutely infectious. loud, warm, the kind of laugh that could make everyone else in the room laugh with him.

♡ gets nervous when others touch him, especially without permission. PLEASE ASK HIM FIRST or he gets very worked up. he has definitely hit someone on impulse because they touched him unexpectedly.

♡ comes across as a listener, but secretly a yapper. especially if it's about the things he's passionate about.

♡ (will be seen in a later fic) you had to teach him to dance, and ever since, he seems to really like it. you know that cryptid dancing vessel does on stage? yeah, android!vessel does it too. ngl he's pretty fun at parties

♡ come get your freak of an android he's doing things (you set him loose on purpose. he needs enrichment)

♡ oh and before any of you ask. yes, he does pursue music later on! but not initially. this is not directly vessel related but ii was actually the one to pitch the band idea. and for what it's worth, you actually help teach vessel guitar.

[wooahaes]

the tender kind of caring

pairing: non-idol!jun x gn!reader, ft roommate!joshua

genre: fluff, romance. mutual pining, friends -> lovers. slightly hurt/comfort.

warnings: vague mentions of food/going out for birthday dinner. mentions of reading having a bad relationship with their mother/parents. jun in love <3

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: sliiiightly personal fic bc of the beginning lol but its sweet and this cheered me up a bit to write

The last thing you expected to see on your birthday was a text from Jun that was… oddly firm in his request. Please wear something nice? I’m on my way.

All of this started when you called him about a week ago, lamenting about lost plans and the admittedly not-very-healthy relationship you’d always had with your mother. He’d listened, even met up with you that day to take your mind off of all of it, and been left with this pit in his stomach when he went back home. His roommate had taken one look at him and knew that it was about you: Jun had never hid his feelings about you with his friends… and from you, to be fair, although that fact was a much more recent reality. While neither of you had made the first move, Jun knew you felt the same way about him due to a casual comment you had made a few weeks ago. One of you just had to step out and say something, and maybe, just maybe, it should be him. 

“You could cook for them,” Joshua said from the couch that night, one arm draped over the back of it. He’d been watching a movie until Jun started pacing around the kitchen, looking things up on his phone. “You know they love your food.”

He did, but… Would it be overstepping to call the restaurant and ask for the same reservation that you had cancelled? 

“Dude.” Joshua had leveled his gaze at him, his smile falling. “Even I know they love that place. Call and see if you can get it. They don’t need their parents to go.” 

But would it be selfish for you to go out and celebrate…? Jun knew the way your mind worked. He knew that even though you wouldn’t be there for such a minor situation, that you would feel guilty about spending your birthday doing something nice for yourself. He looked down at his phone, the restaurant’s website open on his phone.

Joshua was the one who acted. He stood up, snatching his phone as he hit the number and walked away. Within seconds, he was already speaking, voice growing distant as he traveled down the hall and into his bedroom, “Hi, I’d like to make a reservation for…”

Jun thanked him afterward. Jun knew how your brain worked, and he knew how his own did, too: his worries for upsetting you would have always stopped him from doing what he wanted to do. And if you turned him away, he’d either call and cancel or he’d take a friend with him. But he hoped you would come with him: if it’s selfish for you to go out on your birthday, then he would simply be selfish for you and treat you the way he felt you deserved to be treated. Kindly, and with so, so much love. 

He bought you flowers. It’d been a little more of a hassle to pick the perfect ones for you, but the man at the shop had been sweet enough to give his input as Jun described what you liked. He’d watched as the man tied a pale blue ribbon around a bouquet of forget-me-nots, and felt his heart flutter a bit. This was happening. He liked you. He’d maybe even say he was in love with you, despite the fact that the word felt more loaded.

Quietly, Jun made his way up to your apartment, knocking rather than letting himself in. He knew that you wouldn’t mind if he did: there was a reason you gave him everything he needed to get into your apartment, and it wasn’t just because he was the kind of person who would drop everything to come take care of you. You had several people in your life that you trusted, especially if something were to happen to you and you needed help: Jun had just joined that list over time, and you’d told him outright how much you trusted him.

A few minutes later, you finally opened the door. To his surprise, you had dressed up nice. Had he let something slip…? Did Joshua give you a heads up? 

“Hi.” You’d rested your hands by your side, only to move them seconds later to toy with the sleeve of your sweater. A second later, your gaze fell to the flowers in his hands. “Are those…?”

He held them out. “Happy birthday,” he said quietly. “I think I’m in love with you.” 

Immediately, he shut his mouth. Shit. That… That wasn’t what he planned to say. He was going to wish you a happy birthday and ask if you wanted to get dinner with him. Confessing was supposed to be something he said later, after he went on a short walk with you. After he complimented you and told you how nice you looked, and talked about anything other than the reason your plans had been canceled (unless you wanted to vent, in which Jun knew he would listen). 

You, on the other hand, had barely accepted the flowers when he confessed. They fell from your grip slightly, the feeling of them slipping enough to make you snap back to attention and nearly crush them when you grabbed them. He’s in love with you. It’s not a question, not to you: not when you’d oh-so-subtly dropped the hint a few weeks ago to see if he knew. And when he blushed and changed the topic, it’d merely confirmed what you knew. Things had been far more mutual between the two of you than you thought. Of course, you would have made the first move sooner or later if life hadn’t bulldozed the path for bullshit to take over. Last week's news was just one drop in a bucket already threatening to overflow. 

But at the end of the day, there was Jun. There was always Jun, who smiled at you like you were the cool breeze on a warm day. Who looked at you like you were every pretty thing the world had to offer. Jun, who’s standing in front of you, blushing at his own slip-up. 

“I think,” you said after a moment, voice all too soft now, “I’m in love with you, too.” 

He smiled. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You held onto the flowers. “Really.” And then a second later, you tacked on, “Is that why you asked me to look nice? So you wouldn’t confess to me in my pajamas?”

Jun laughed, and it put the color back into the world. “Do you want to go out?” He offered a hand. “I made reservations at that place you canceled… I mean, Joshua did for me, but…”

You accepted his hand, squeezing it. “Let me put these in some water first, okay?”

Jun watched you shut the door behind you, leaving it cracked barely open, and he leaned against the railing with a smile. He’d been in love before, dated before, but… There was something so sweet about the bashful look on your face as you returned the silly confession. How long had he been your friend? Years? Only one day, he stopped looking at you as a friend and started seeing someone he wanted to keep in his life differently. More intimately. The tiny bits of jealousy he felt when you dated other people… At one point, he assumed it was because he’d been single and yearning for a relationship. When he looked back, he knew: he longed to be close to you in that way. The fact that the two of you seemed to be coming together like magnets only felt right.

The door opened again a few minutes later. You had patted down your pockets, just to be sure that you had everything you needed. Jun offered his hand to you again, and you slipped yours into it, already interlocking fingers with him. You shut your door behind you, and turned to him.

“Jun?” You leaned against him for a second, pressing a tiny kiss against his clothed shoulder. “Thank you.” 

He just smiled, squeezing your hand. “It’s your birthday,” he said. “Of course I’m here.”

And, hopefully, he always would be.

[elllisaaa]

seventeen as love songs - vu vers.

-> pairing : seventeen hhu x fem!reader

-> words count : 2.7k words

-> genre : fluff, hurt/comfort

-> warnings : none

-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | svt masterlist | 1k event masterlist

hhu vers. | vu vers. | pu vers.

YOON JEONGHAN

-> Always Forever by Cults

"you and me, always forever, we could stay, alone together."

→ You had always been an evidence for Jeonghan. When you became friends, it was natural. When you started to get closer, it felt natural too. And when you confessed to each other, nothing changed either. You had always been his focal point, the person he wanted to come back to, his everything. Everything was simple when you were here, everything felt less suffocating and more supportable. You made everything better, and Jeonghan couldn’t imagine his life without you being a part of it. 

“- You want to talk about it ?

- No. I just want to watch a movie with you and not think about it anymore.

- Of course baby.”

So you didn’t try to inquire with him further, and you let him choose the movie while you brought his favourite snacks and drinks from the kitchen. And you settled on the couch with Jeonghan resting his head on your chest. He always felt so safe in your arms, like he was wrapped in a protective bubble and that nothing could hurt him anymore. You were his shield, his shelter. 

“- Thank you…

- For what ?”

Jeonghan lifted his head from your chest to look at you with the softest eyes that always made you melt inside.

“- For being you.”

"you know you’ve got me in your pockets."

→ Jeonghan was known for his habit to tease and make fun of his loved ones. You always witnessed it when the members were around : your boyfriend was a little shit when he liked someone and wanted their attention. But despite seeing how he acted with his friends, you never experienced it yourself. Well, a bit. But not as much as Mingyu. 

“- This isn’t fair ! Whenever I do it it’s the end of the world, and when it’s Y/N, you just look at her with heart eyes !”

You chuckled at Mingyu’s complaints, looking over at your boyfriend who had a proud grin stretching out his face as he stuck out his tongue to his friend like a child. 

“- That’s because I’m in love with her. Not you, idiot.”

Jeonghan stopped paying attention to the big baby crying behind him as he made his way over to you, bending down to land a quick and sweet kiss on your lips with the softest smile. 

“- Is that true ? That you’re less annoying with me ?”

He cupped your face between his hands, tenderly caressing your cheeks and actually looking at you with hearts in his eyes. 

“- I’m whipped for you, baby. You could ask me to do anything and I’ll do it.”

Because Jeonghan was utterly smitten by you from day one, and he wanted it to stay just that way. Just you and him, forever. 

HONG JOSHUA

-> Backyard Boy by Claire Rosinkranz 

"and everybody’s talking but I don’t wanna know."

→ Everybody told Joshua that he shouldn’t go out with you. You had a reputation for going on dates with men who had money and dragging as much for them as you could before leaving them. But Joshua didn’t care. He loved being with you, he loved how comfortable you made him feel and he knew these were only rumors. Not once had you tried to go to an expensive restaurant, and you never wanted to let him pay for you even when he insisted. He had to pay when you were going to the bathroom if he wanted to be a gentleman. And contrary to what he had been told, you were so interesting. 

“- I’m sorry, I know I talk a lot. You can tell me if I’m boring, you know ?”

You made it sound like a joke, but Joshua could hear the slight hurt in your voice, meaning that you had been told that a lot before. But he wouldn’t be the one to shut you up. Never. He put his hand over yours on the table, his eyes searching yours. 

“- I don’t mind. I love to hear you talk, especially when you’re so passionate. I love it.

- Really ?

- Yeah. I could listen to you for hours.”

Your shy smile brought one to his lips too - he just couldn’t help but be happy when you were happy too, and if it was because of him that you were smiling like that, it was even better. And you didn’t mind that Joshua couldn’t detach his gaze from you as you were rambling about your favourite songs or books. He loved to hear you talk, and he loved to be the one you wanted to talk to. 

"my heart is on wings, i’m living in dreams."

→ Nothing could have prepared Joshua for how good it would feel to be loved by you. He always made sure to make you feel appreciated, he was used to being the one to give. But for once, he liked being taken care of too. The way you were always making sure he was alright with little messages throughout the day, even when you were both busy or the way you could sense when he had had a bad day and would prepare him food and a hot bath to relax - all of that made him feel so special. 

“- A gift ? Is there something today that I forgot about ?”

You shook your head with that cute giggle that he liked so much, looking proudly at the paper-wrapped book he was holding in his hands with a confused expression.

“- Not at all, you’re the best at remembering that. I just wanted to give you something. Open it.”

Joshua kissed your forehead with a sweet smile before he opened the gift to discover a makeshift photo album with pictures of the both of you. Some were pretty recent, from the last holidays you spent on Jeju island. Others were from the first few dates you went on together, from the early stages of your relationships. The pages were covered in memories, cute hearts and little nothings that brought tears to his eyes. 

“- Angel, this is…

- You don’t like it ?”

Without letting you have any time to doubt yourself, Joshua engulfed you in a warm hug. 

“- I love it, darling. I love you so much.”

You were a dream come true, and he never wanted to let you go. 

LEE JIHOON

-> Umbrella by Ember Island 

"you’re part of my entity, here for infinity."

→ You have always been like Jihoon’s second half. You completed each other perfectly. When he needed something, it was like you had that telepathic communication that allowed you to know about it before anyone else and give him what he needed. And whenever you struggled with something, it was like Jihoon could guess it from miles away, and help you without you needing to ask him to. 

“- Jagiya, do you know where are my -”

Before he could even finish his sentence, you had handed him his glasses with a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. He stayed there for a few seconds, and you took advantage of his lack of movement to place his glasses on the bridge of his nose and a kiss on his lips with a charming smile that made Jihoon smile as well. 

“- Thank you, baby.

- You’re welcome.”

You went back to working on your laptop, but Jihoon couldn’t wipe away the smile that had taken over his face. Even after years of you giving him the things he needed without asking for them, he still had troubles understanding how you could be real, how you could be his, how you could get him like no one else could. 

“- I love you, you know that, right ?”

You turned your head to look at him, with the softest look of endearment and adoration in your eyes. 

“- Yeah, I know.”

Of course, you knew. You knew everything about him. 

"now that it’s raining more than ever, know that we’ll still have each other, you can stand under my umbrella."

→ You had always been the rock on which Jihoon could lean on, his focal point, the person in front of which he allowed himself to be vulnerable. But sometimes, even the strongest people could fall too. When Jihoon came home to find your apartment empty, the only light being the one coming from your room, he immediately knew that something was wrong. 

“- Is everything alright jagiya ?”

Your form moved under the covers to look at him, leaning against the doorframe. Jihoon could only see the top of your face, but it was enough for him to notice that your eyes were red and puffy. He approached you slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching to thread his fingers through your hair. 

“- What do you need, baby ?

- I don’t know…”

Jihoon’s heart clenched at hearing the cracking in your voice and the sadness in your words. Without you needing to say anything more, Jihoon slipped under the covers with you, his arms around you. And as soon as you felt his warmth, you bursted into tears again. And he held you closer, his soothing touch and comforting words all you needed in this moment. You knew that every time you felt like you were falling apart, Jihoon would be here to stitch the fragments back up, to hold you up, to put you back to your feets. And you would do the same for him. 

“- You’re okay, jagyia. I’m here, I’ll always be here.”

LEE SEOKMIN

-> Riptide by Vance Joy

"i just wanna be your left-hand man, i love when you’re singing that song."

→ Everything about your relationship with Seokmin was spontaneous - from the way you became friends overnight to the way you didn’t even need to say it for either of you to understand there was more going on. And suddenly, one day, you were standing by his side, hands in his, and with the title of his partner. And you loved it. 

“- I’m home, baby !”

As soon as he stepped into your apartment, Seokmin heard the loud music coming from your speakers, but your voice singing the song was even louder. A smile stretched out his lips as he walked in the kitchen to see you dancing and singing at the top of your lungs as you attempted to make dinner. And he stayed there for a few seconds, just watching over you with adoration. 

“- Will you come with me instead of watching me ?”

Seokmin immediately took your extended hand in his to make you spin around. The sound of your joined laughter filled the room, and joy filled up his heart. Because he couldn’t have dreamt for a better view to come home too, because you made all the dark corners of his life feel brighter. As the song came to an end and a calmer one started, Seokmin held you closer to him, slowly swaying with you.

“- How was your day ?

- Perfect.”

And seeing the smile that spread on your own lips, you understood that Seokmin wasn’t just talking about his day. 

"i just wanna, i just wanna know, if you’re gonna, if you’re gonna stay."

→ From the way Seokmin sometimes held you a little too tight, you knew he was scared you’d leave. He always displayed this energetic demeanor and his usual bright smile. But you could see the sadness in his eyes sometimes, the underlying melancholy he rarely talked about. On the days he was more silent, you knew it overtook him, and you were always here to hold his hand, waiting for him to be ready to talk about it. 

“- Are you out of the shower, baby ? Dinner’s almost ready.” 

You didn’t receive any response, but the door of the bathroom slowly opened. You looked up at Seokmin, discovering his tears stained cheeks, and that same sadness you knew all too well glimmering in his eyes. 

“- Do you want to talk about it ?

- Can I get a hug ?”

His weaker voice, completely devoid of his usual energy made your heart ache and you immediately opened your arms wide.

“- Of course, you don’t even have to ask.”

Seokmin nuzzled his face against your neck, his arms squeezing you as close as possible to him, as if you would vanish in the air if he let you go too far away from him. 

“- You love me, right ? You won’t leave ?

- I won’t Minnie, I love you. More than you know.”

And that promise was enough to ease his mind. 

BOO SEUNGKWAN

-> Those Eyes by New West 

"‘cause all of the small things you do are what remind me why i fell for you."

→ Seungkwan knew that you wouldn’t be home when he came back from practice : you went to see your parents for a few days. And he was glad to see you were taking some time for yourself after having worked so hard the whole year, but still, the apartment felt empty without your presence. He slowly walked into the living room, dropping onto the couch with a sigh. 

Only when he went to make himself dinner a few hours later did he notice the little note stuck to the upper cupboards. He squinted his eyes, trying to read your tiny handwriting, before a smile took over his face at what you had written down : “Your favorite snacks are refilled, honey. Look out for other notes ;)”.

“- Did you find them all yet ?”

Seungkwan chuckled as he played with the first note he found in between his fingers, holding his phone to his ear to be able to hear you. 

“- Just found the first one, but you didn’t have to do all that honey.

- I know. But I wanted to.”

The both of you stayed silent for a few seconds, because you knew Seungkwan was doing his best not to cry, and because you loved to make him feel appreciated. 

“- Besides, you always complain that you miss me when I’m away. This way, you won’t be too dramatic.”

Seungkwan scoffed at your teasing, and he was glad you weren’t here to make fun of his glassy eyes and his wide smile.

“- I’m not dramatic. You are.”

And you laughed, because it was the small thing that counted. 

"when we’re done making love and you look up and give me those eyes."

→ “- You have to stop looking at me like that.”

But you didn’t stop looking at Seungkwan, instead getting even more comfortable and resting your chin in the palm of your hand to stare at him even longer. Was it really your fault when he looked so good like that ? He was dressed in a classy suit, his hair freshly dyed blond complimenting his features and most of all his big, bright smile illuminating the room. He was handsome and you couldn’t help admiring him in all his glory. 

“- Looking at you like what ?”

Your boyfriend groaned at your teasing, but you didn’t let it go, and when he finally looked back at you, your gaze locked.

“- Like you’re madly in love with me.

- That’s because I am.”

Despite the many times you had said that to him, and the many times he said that to you, it still made his heart beat faster, it still made a blush blossom on his cheeks and it still made him avoid your eyes because of how flustered he was. 

“- You say that like it’s common sense.

- It kinda is. You’re my world Kwannie.”

Maybe you were just like the sappy couples you hated usually, but you didn’t care. Seungkwan intertwined your fingers with his over the table and as he looked back into your eyes, no more words were needed. 

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @bewoyewo @foxinnie8 @jaderabbit-98 @lala-----------lala @codeinebelle @miyx-amour @seomisaho @sashaaahh @straytiny127 @ltfirecracker @jaja-salute

[kjhbsies]

Ok so this might be long but I just LOVE the way you write, Peter Parker x Reader!!, but I think it could also work as Remus Lupin x reader

“…And you didn’t come after me.” “I didn’t know you wanted me to.” at Chicago??? Pretty please 🙏🏼

Also you can ignore and not include the following but I’ve had this on my head for days that I just NEED to tell someone HAHAHAHA😭 but:

maybe reader decides to move on from bestfriend!character after realizing he’s never gonna make a move, they’ve been dancing around each other for YEARS (like he would lead her on, but never actually get into a relationship with her because he is too caught up with his insecurities, she deserves better, cant risk losing her) and at first he’s okay with her meeting other guys, he just wants what’s best for her. But then she might get a bit too serious with a guy and it’s like someone flicked a switch because poor bestfriend!character is now spiraling (there could be a time jump, i feel like that would work pretty good for the trope) I’m sorry I’m just so into the hurt/comfort 😭

The Waiting Game

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join my 500 celebration!

TASM!Peter Parker x reader

synopsis: You were always there— his comfort, his constant, his maybe. But when you finally stopped waiting, Peter had to face his fear, and that is to finally say that he loves you before it's too late.

wordcount: 2, 163

note: Prompt: “…And you didn’t come after me.” “I didn’t know you wanted me to.” + Chicago: angry love confession in the rain. kudos to this request, too! listen, thank you for this. i really, really loved it. and i almost cried writing this lol. also,this was inspired by niki's backburner and migraine by moonstar88. requests are still open!

The first time you saw him, you thought he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Which wasn't far from the truth.

Peter Parker walked into your flower shop one rainy Tuesday afternoon, shoulders hunched under the soaked hoodie he was wearing. He bought white daisies. Didn't say much. You packed the bouquet on a brown paper, tied it with twine, and offered a warm smile which he didn't return— at least, not immediately. Just a faint curl of his lips and a small nod.

You didn't take it personally. Some people were just... introverted. Shy.

He came back next week. Then the week after that. And it just became a routine that you were always expecting him to show up. There are times when you notice a small bruise on his face, hidden by the shadow of his hoodie. You never asked. You just wrapped the flowers he had picked and handed them over, your fingers brushing his for a second. Just enough to notice a chill in his skin.

You have come to the impression that Peter has a girlfriend. He always brought fresh flowers every week—never too grand, always simple, delicate, and white most of the time. You imagined a quiet girl waiting for him at home, maybe someone who loved reading books and the rain.

So you never made a move. You just kept smiling, kept asking him how his day was, even if the answer never came.

Until, eventually, it did.

The first real conversation you had with him was in the library. You spotted him in a far corner, tucked behind a stack of physics books and a nearly empty coffee cup. He looked surprised to see you, but then he suddenly smiled.

"Hey," You greeted. "Didn't think you were a big physics guy."

Peter smiled, that tired grin again. "You'd be surprised."

That was the beginning. Of what, you weren't sure.

Over time, he stopped ignoring you. He became more open, more comfortable in your presence. You'd always see him in cafes you liked, in late-night grocery runs, or walking around Queens with headphones on. Always in his own world.

You learned about Gwen one cold night. He'd shown up at your shop just before closing, hands trembling slightly as he approached you.

"She loved flowers. Especially lilies." He said.

Your heart sank when he told you everything that had happened with his former girlfriend, Gwen Stacy. He told you about his abilities, his persona, and everything that has led to her death. You didn't ask any questions. Just offered him a tea in the backroom and sat with him until he felt less lonely.

After that, things changed.

Peter became your friend. A real one. The kind who waited for your shop to close so he could walk you home every night, who showed up at your doorstep with pizza and sodas in hand after your shop got vandalized by some street punks. The kind who listened. The kind who stayed. And you didn't even know that two years had already passed.

Two years of tangled heartstrings and almosts. Of late night phone calls, movie marathons, and shared laughs that felt too sweet just to be called platonic. Sometimes, he'd tell you something that left you breathless.

"You make everything easier." He said as you helped him tend to his wounds.

Other times, he'd look at you like you were the safest place in the world— and then pull back like he wasn't allowed to feel that way. You didn't know what you were to him. A friend, just what he always called it, but it felt like more.

And maybe, you were selfish, but you wanted more than being almost. You wanted him to do something, to claim you as his. But Peter never made a move.

You just... sat in between. Held his hand at dark times. Loved him quietly— hoped that someday— maybe— he'd let go of the ghost haunting him and see you standing there.

But no one warned you how exhausting it is to love someone who stands still while you take steps forward.

You kept hoping, quietly, stupidly— that one day Peter would wake up and finally say it. Say something. Do something. Anything. Call what you two had by its real name. But he never did. You kept giving, but he kept holding back. And suddenly, something inside you just... dimmed.

You were never an expert in love, but you knew that it shouldn't feel like this. And no matter how much your heart yearned for him, you realized you were done orbiting someone who never made an effort to pull you in.

So you started going out with men. You said yes to coffee dates with those guys who never leave your messages unanswered, whose laughter wasn't laced with something unspoken, and someone who doesn't look at you like you were a ghost of somebody else.

Peter didn't even react. Not even a twitch of jealousy. In fact, he told you he was glad and he was very supportive of doing what you thought would be best for you. And it stung more than it should've. Because all you wanted was for him to express how much he hated it. You wanted no more than for him to get mad and ask you to leave all those guys for him.

After that, something shifted. Your late-night calls stopped, and he stopped showing up at your shop. Your conversations grew distant and clipped, surface-level and polite. There was an invisible line between you two now, something that seemed to pull you apart.

It was both a blessing and a curse. It was a strange relief that you didn't have to love him loudly. Not having to read every brush of his hand across your fingers, not having to be puzzled by his actions every night, and not having to overthink anything anymore. You could finally breathe without wondering if he'd ever choose you. Because his silence told you the real answer.

But at night, when you stared at your phone and saw his name untouched in your inbox, the silence was killing you. You missed him. The version of him that let you in. The Peter who held your hand when you cried without ever asking why. The Peter who laughed with his whole chest when you told a joke that someone else wouldn't even find funny.

But that Peter was gone.

And then came Silas. He was different. Patient, kind, and steady. All the ways Peter wasn't. For three months, you've been getting to know each other. And you were thinking of letting him in finally.

People began to notice. And so did Peter.

You didn't know it, but he was spiraling. Quietly, of course.

He saw you and Silas walking around the streets at night when he was on patrol, and despite his mind telling him to just turn around and look away, he couldn't. Not when it was almost the first time in months he saw you smile like that. Not when his heart almost stopped at the sight of another man's arms wrapped around your shoulders.

He told himself that he was happy for you. He pretended to be okay watching you move on. Pretended he didn't care. Pretended he didn't stay late at night replaying every missed chance, every almost-kiss, and every time he called you just a friend when his heart said otherwise.

But would you hear him out if he told you the reasons why?

What if he hurt you like he hurt Gwen? What if he couldn't protect you? What if loving him meant having the same fate as Gwen's?

But he doesn't know what to do anymore.

What if Silas made you happier than he could? What if you stopped waiting entirely? What if you never looked back?

One fortunate and gloomy afternoon, Peter saw you whilst he was walking around the Queens to clear up his mind.

You were sitting by the window of the little cafe, a lonely cup untouched in front of you. Your phone sat on the table, screen lit up with a message you'd already read twice:

"Sorry, something came up. Raincheck?"

Then, the skies started to darken, and rain immediately poured like the city itself was crying.

Peter clenched his jaw. He adjusted his hoodie, shoved his hands in his pockets, and started to at a different direction.

But he didn't get far.

He stopped mid-step. Closed his eyes tightly.

Don't do it, Parker. He thought. Let her be happy.

But he couldn't. So he walked back.

He now found you outside the cafe, waiting for a cab. He stood beside you, wet from head to toe, his hoodie clinging to his frame.

You blinked up, startled. "Peter?"

"Where's Silas?" His voice was low, almost lost in the rain.

"He said he couldn't come," You answered, still reeling from the sight of him. "Why were you here, Peter?"

He looked at you, eyes glassy and stormy. There was a lump in his throat he couldn't swallow, not with the way you were looking at him. Like he meant something. Like he still has a chance.

"I don't want you to be alone," He said quietly.

You nodded once, looking down. Your heart ached as you felt your walls crumbling down.

"Don't say things you didn't mean." You whispered, more to yourself than to him. It was so quiet that if Peter didn't have super-hearing, he might not have heard it.

"I mean it. Why do you think that I don't?"

Your breath hitched. You looked away as you blinked your tears. "So, what? You're talking to me now because you just figured out you liked me again?"

"I've never stopped liking you," Peter said, stepping closer, eyes searching for yours.

You shook your head and started to walk abruptly. The rain had picked up, soaking your clothes within seconds. Your pace quickened, just so he wouldn't see you crumbling because of him.

"Y/n, stop." Peter jogged after you, catching your arm with a gentle but firm grip. "You'll get sick, alright?" He began taking off his hoodie to cover you.

You shoved it away, the cloth falling off the road.

"You're the one who should stop!" You yelled, voice cracking through the rain. “Were the past two years not enough for you? I waited, Peter. I waited for you to finally love me back. But now that I'm trying to see someone new, that’s when you want to say something?!”

Peter’s eyes were full of sorrow, of regret too big to carry. “I know. I was scared. Really. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“This hurts me even more, Peter.” You cried, the tears now freely falling. “Do you know how many guys I tried to like, just so I could forget you? Every night, I was hoping you’d do something. And you never came after me."

Peter bit his lip to hold in a sob, but the tears streaming down his cheeks betrayed him. “I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You stared at him, heart breaking all over again.

“Of course I wanted you to!” You sobbed, voice trembling. “I wanted you to show me that I mattered. That I was not only an option when you don't have anyone to talk to, a second choice for—” You stopped yourself, eyes shutting tightly.

Peter nodded, understanding everything that you were feeling. He then closed the space between you, hands trembling as they cupped your soaked cheeks. You didn’t pull away. He silently thanked the Gods because he didn't know what he would do if you walked away from his grip.

“I’m sorry,” He said, voice shaking. “I was too caught up in my own fears. Too stuck in the past. I thought… I thought if I let you go, you’d be safer. But I was wrong. I don’t want to live scared anymore. I don’t want to keep losing people I love because I’m too afraid to love them in the first place. I don't want to lose you.”

You stared at him.

And Peter whispered, “I love you.”

Your breath caught. He looked terrified, like saying it would break him, but it didn’t. It held him together.

“I love you,” He repeated, stronger this time. “If you let me, I’ll be better. I’ll do things right this time. I promise.”

The rain still poured, but neither of you moved.

And then, finally, you let yourself believe him.

You surged forward, arms wrapping around his neck as you kissed him, angry and tender and relieved all at once. He kissed you back with the same fervor, like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours and whispered, “You’re not waiting anymore.”

And you weren’t.

Because this time, he chose you.

And he wasn't going to let go. Not ever.

©kjhbsies

[ultravi0lence14]

i woke up this morning to 1k followers and honestly, i don’t know what to say.

if anyone told me in september that when i wrote my first dean fic in my bedroom, possibly in the worst place i’ve ever been, that i would reach 1k followers, i wouldn’t have believed you. this platform has given me so much creative fluidity and allowed me to have an outlet to express my writing and let me do what i love; creating stories.

i’ve also met some of my best friends on here, and i want to individually thank each and everyone of you!

my lovely bree ( @titsout4jackles ) is possibly my favourite person on the planet. my absolute rock, we’ve created such an amazing friendship that means the absolute world to me. through creating an entire universe together ( i love our little monster so much ) to expanding on it to create so much more, i love talking with you every single day. it really means so much to me and i love you so so much bree🥹

my sweet cass ( @starzify ) words cannot describe how much you mean to me. my freakzify to my ultrafreak14, you are always there for me in ways i can never fully thank you for. this is also my canadian twin so we’ve got that bond no one understands🙂‍↕️ i love you so much cassie, please never change!!

the amazing isa ( @sacr1ficialang3l ) my actual twin who i love talking about vampires and yellowjackets with. idc that we just started chatting a couple weeks ago bc i already feel such a connection with you that makes me feel so safe. i love talking with you and sharing all the things i’ve done that day bc i know you will listen. i love you so much my sweet girl!!

oh my darling lucy ( @haunteres ) possibly my biggest supporter and the coolest girl i’ve ever come across. i’m not kidding. your aesthetic and account actually makes tears come to my eyes bc it is so so amazing. i love you so much and pls i am going to reach out to you more bc i love conversations with you!!!

the radiant oct ( @beausling ) oh all the amazing things i can say about you but i don’t have the space. although we’ve also just started chatting, i love our messages so much ( especially all the crying pics we send ) your resilience and strength inspires me everyday, and i love you so much for it!!

my girl mera ( @bluemerakis ) the absolute sweetest girl ever i love you in ways words cannot describe. your writing inspires me so much you wouldn’t even believe me. i love our chats and you mean the absolute world to me i love you!!

also, a shoutout to every single follower and person who has been with me through this journey of mine. you all mean so much and i am crying in my car writing this bc i am so grateful. summer is coming up which means i will be posting more!! ( i graduate high school june 10th pls bare with me ) but until then, i will post as much as i can!!!

love every single one of you!!!

natasha🫶

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"I'LL DO IT FOR YOU, SWEETHEART"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH JAX

I hope you like it! 💚💛😊☝

You knew the California sons would be arriving in Ireland that day, which is why you worked hard to have everything ready for their arrival.

You were Clay's contact in Belfast, and when you told him Jax's son, Abel, was there, they didn't hesitate to hop on their Harleys and go find their grandson.

You peeked through the sliding metal door that separated the parking lot from the Irish sons' headquarters and saw several Harleys approaching your location.

You opened the door and stepped aside to let them pass.

Clay was the first to enter.

He nodded to you in thanks, and you nodded back in kind.

As soon as everyone was inside, you closed the door behind them and walked over.

Morrow was the first to greet you.

He gave you a huge hug, since it had been a while since you'd seen each other.

"Y/N," he smiled when you separated. "I'm glad to see you." He looked you up and down. "Look at you, last time I saw you, you came up to my knees."

"Yeah, and now he's a head taller than you," a blond man you didn't know added, joining the conversation.

You stared at him for a few moments, not knowing what else to say.

He looked at you curiously, too, before turning to Clay.

"Y/N, this is Jax, Abel's father," he introduced you. "This is Y/N, our contact."

"Hi."

"Hi," you replied politely. "I'm so sorry about your son," you murmured. "I'll help in any way I can."

"Thank you," he nodded, still staring at yours.

It was so strange… you'd never felt anything like it, the feeling of being hooked onto a person in such a way that you couldn't stop watching them.

Since he was looking at you too, you assumed the same was happening to him.

You cleared your throat to break the tension and looked at Clay.

"Let the guys rest for today, let them have some fun." You placed a hand on his shoulders. "Do you want a beer?"

"If I said I didn't, I'd be lying," he smiled. You nodded.

"I'll get the kegs," you said, glancing at Jax. "Could you give me a hand?"

"Sure," he smiled as he followed you.

You led him to the supply shed where you kept the enormous beer kegs, and the two of you carried them to the middle of the parking lot, where friendly fights had already begun to entertain the crowd.

You handed out glasses to everyone, and everyone began to pour beer from the kegs you had brought.

You grabbed one for yourself and, after sipping a little, sat down at one of the tables to watch the fight unfolding before you.

According to what you'd heard, this guy, one of Ireland's sons, had defeated four people in the last ten minutes without so much as a scratch.

He raised his hands in victory as he knocked the other guy down, sending the crowd into a frenzy.

"Who's next?" he asked, a defiant sneer on his face.

"Me," said a voice you already knew.

You turned to Jax, who began to remove his jacket and shirt.

He tied his hair back in a simple bun behind his head.

You weren't prepared for that sight, and you nearly choked on your beer as you stared at his flat stomach and defined abs for longer than you'd ever admit.

As if he'd sensed your gaze, he walked over to you, holding a coil of white rope in his hands, standing in front of you.

You noticed he had his son's name tattooed on his chest, next to his heart.

"Want a hand?" he asked, mimicking your question from before.

You swallowed hard and nodded before taking the roll he offered you.

"Sure," you nodded, beginning to bandage his knuckles. "That guy has a very inflated ego, he always has," you snorted. "So if you beat him up, even for fun, I'd really appreciate it."

"I'll do it for you, sweetheart" he smiled as you continued bandaging him

[feedme2thedogs]

Just a very emotional post, rant, vent, and slight speculation about what might be behind the game's sudden end.

I used to listen to the soundtrack to cheer myself up and stuff when I couldn't play the game, and the game has been the only thing helping out with my mental health since release lol the hyperfixation is not going away any time soon either so it's even harder to cope with this...

Being vulnerable on main it's just like anytime I do anything with this fran at all now it just brings me sadness and at the same time it's my cope it's a massively double edged blade right now and I really don't know how to cheer myself up other than trying to gaslight myself about the game lol

Old screenies... Edits, fanart... The game itself. The movies. It all makes me ache with empty sadness now.

I know some people in the fandom could say it's not that deep and call me pathetic rn but I feel like I've lost something so important to me (I have) and that everything that came out of it has gone too. The friends I made who used to play with me all the time who moved on before this happened, our memories no lifing out together and laughing at it. It feels like everything has instantly just become a bittersweet hazy nostalgia trip and nothing feels real.

This game held my hand through the darkest things in life I've had to face yet since it was released, and my life has always been full of terrifying events, so that's me saying a lot right there. I'm not ready to let go, but it's leaving me and I still need it to be my crutch for so much longer. It's killing me. I've seriously fallen into a massive depression since the announcement. My appetite has completely left me and all I can do is cry and try to relate to the very few people who feel as deeply about things as I do, and got as attached to the characters and story they were creative as I have.

I feel pathetic asf I've literally lost sleep over this because I just stay up so late staring at the game because once I play long enough it's like it's not even going anywhere, like this isn't happening. And once I stop the games and realise it's so late and I'm not coping, that I force myself to try and sleep, I just lose. I've always had this sentimentality with things my whole life, because you never know when something is just going to be taken from you like this. I told myself it wasn't going to happen, people were just praying on its downfall... Tried to tell myself because while so many were upfront cold and nasty and resentful through the entire games life, there were still the folks who didn't say anything foul, still held hope, still said thanks team for giving us this. And we've all been slapped across the face without guilt shame or remorse.

I went to bed around 6am not even realising it was that late, but I was dead tired. Then I woke up at 9, my brain waking me up to cry with the reminder I'm losing something that is such a heavy part of me.

People and friends keep trying to say out there and tell me "oh it's not going away it's still going to be playable its just not getting updates or content" which means... Near imminent death, even if it'll still be up ... Still "playable" still for purchase... They now act like content isn't that important, because it'll still be around. Yes. Until the players dwindle out. Until everyone leaves and it'll just be me trying to enjoy what I have left of it when it actually comes to that.

Like I said before, on my other post that wasn't so personal and vulnerable, it's left me with existential dread. Because I constantly live with that, and it's obvious how it's left me feeling that way with what I've already expressed.

The last dlc pack wasn't even a month ago. They only made the announcement 2 days before this final patch... Like it's really no time at all they gave us to process it, or cope, or grieve the game and what it could have been. What it should have been, lmao.

I originally said it was bittersweet... But it's not sweet at all. What I'm now left with is bittersweet. I loved the design, the feeling they put into this game, the environment, the characters, everything. And what a unique experience they gave, just to take it away in such a sudden, unforgivable way.

All I can speculate is what someone else has assumed, that gun and the devs had a spat. Which may be evident by this screenie I took earlier this morning while coping out on every outlet source possible for fan content or others posting their sadness for the game.

I didn't get the part where Gun basically chided with the players and dissed their dev team so blatantly. Obviously the devs suck, if they knew that for so long though...

But even besides this, we've always known how petty the devs with been with leaks... And recently the black out mode for rush week had been leaked. Along with voice lines regarding the was-to-be characters... At least from Bones, from what I know. Presumably from Damian's post, he voiced some incredible new lines that was supposed to show us some other side of Johnny. Whatever that is, guess we will never know now.

I have nothing but endless words and my heartbreak and sadness is just as much. I joined everyone in the comments on Instagram because Twitter is so not my thing, only to see at least people for a while we're getting some kind of responses, not much for answers. Obviously, we may never get answers. I could only hope for a dev stream... Or something of the sort.

Anyways, I forever fear for the last day I'll be able to admire these characters in game and not just through memory or old clips and screenshots. This thing takes up my whole heart right now, and no matter how hard I could look for something else to make up for it, nothing will really take its place. I've always wanted a game like this. The 70s is my favourite era, since I was a young teen. The Texas chain saw massacre has been my favourite film since I was finally able to watch horror movies again without having a panic attack lol nothing can beat it's originality from movie to what we were originally presented with for this game. I was so happy to see how accurate it was for the era, and remember getting frustrated at the lack of fun, vividly coloured and tacky outfit packs we were getting. It is bittersweet that I got the 70s tacky core pack lol of my dreams before they decide to bite me in the ass. What a hell of a goodbye.

When I saw the family pack coming out... I thought we were heading for clear horizons and things were just looking up finally.

God, how hard I've fallen with this immense disappointment. Crashed and burned. I really don't know how to make myself feel better other than just to go with my ups and downs and distracting myself so hard that I forget about all this happening for a small window of time until I'm fucked up over it all over again.

Raaaaaah...

[mimorobo]

It's World Puppetry Day!!

So as a little celebration I made this!! They're all getting ready for a group photo!!

These are all the Undertale puppets together!! :D

And of course the TS!US guys too!!

(yes Flowey and Chara are in both!! >:) )

Also a bit of a thank you I guess... I NEVER would have thought people would like this so much? But they do!! The felt guys!! The stop motion!! It's crazy!! And everyone's so nice!! It's really really amazing!! SO THANK YOU!! EVERYONE!!! SO SO MUCH!!! :DDD

[moeblob]

[asvidema]

there's some things happening in the lab that i feel good about but at the same time i still need time to process them