#WHO GAVE ME THE RIGHT TO WRITE THIS ANGSTY SHIT????

[gay-dorito-dust]

Are your requests open? If not feel free to ignore this. If so you can also still ignore this but I wanted to ask, could you write how the batboys/batfam would react to a vigilante reader who left Gotham but came back a year or so later?

I don't know if you listen to Noah Kahan but maybe something along the lines of the song “Your Gonna Go Far”? It's just a good song that makes me think of them for some reason IDK 😂

Damian’s was a little angsty but eh. I held this ask off for long enough.

Dick would tease that the reason you came back was because you missed him too much, when in actuality it was more or less the opposite, he missed his fighting crime alongside his vigilante buddy.

‘Fuck off.’ You’d scoff and go to playfully push him, only for him to take it a step further and willingly fall from the rooftop you were hanging out on, and you immediately stood up. ‘Dick?’ You’d call as you peered over the ledge for him. ‘This isn’t funny!’ You shouted in attempt to hide the fact that you were incredibly fearful of the state you’d find him in.

However Dick reappears doing a handstand with a shit eating grin on his face as he used his hands to move towards you, much to your chagrin.

‘I’ll leave again.’ You threatened, crossing your arms over your chest.

‘No you won’t.’ Dick grunts as he got to his feet, still smiling as he got stepped close to you. ‘If you were hellbent on leaving Gotham forever then you wouldn’t have dared tempt the idea of coming back.’

As much as you hated to admit it but he was right, you wouldn’t leave again and even if you did originally want out of Gotham, there was too much work that had to be done here then anywhere else. You were more pretty much done with the whole leaving thing as that didn’t necessarily work out, considering just how fast you abandoned your original plan just to came back to Gotham.

‘I hate it when you’re right.’ You murmured under your breath as Dick chuckles, happy to have you back home, back to him and picking up where you both left off as though nothing had ever happened.

‘So that being all the time, right?’ He asks as he slings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side as you made a face. ‘You’d fucking like for that was the case don’t you.’ You scoffed as you looked at him, one to see him looking back at you with a soft look in his eyes, which was something new even for you seeing as yours and Dick’s relationship consisted of witty back and forth and making lightheartedly fun out of each other.

‘Only if you stay long enough to admit it.’ He says without an ounce of his usual teasing as a silence befell you both as you stared at one another, wondering where life was going to take you now you were back in Gotham.

Jason

‘I was rooting for you to stay away.’ He said upon seeing you kick one of Penguin’s goons in the head.

You shrugged. ‘Hate to disappoint but the grass wasn’t greener on the other side.’ You told him, kicking the goon’s switchblade over the rooftop and into the streets below when noticing his hand itching towards it.

‘It must’ve been at least somewhat greener considering how long you stayed there before coming home.’ Jason sassed, joining in by kicking the goon in the ribs for good measure and you groaned. ‘Don’t tell me you’re still pissed at me for leaving are you?’

Jason scoffs. ‘Noooo, why would I be possibly mad at the fact that you had done it. You managed to escape Gotham and instead of staying out of Gotham and building yourself a future where coming back wasn’t an option, you came back?! Why?! What made you think that was a smart idea?!’ He exclaims and you dropped low to perform a sweeping kick to his feet -taking advantage of his irritation- knocking him flat on his back, grabbing the lapels of his brown jacket.

‘For you DUMBASS! I came back to Gotham for you! I wasn’t about to let you rot in this shit hole without at least knowing someone gave a shit about you! Is that such a fucking hard concept to grasp?!’ You yelled at him but just before you let go of his jacket, Jason was quick to catch your wrists in one of his hands and managed to pin you to the floor as he hovered over you. ‘I don’t believe I ever once asked you to do anything for me, other than staying out of Gotham once you found an outing for yourself.’ He said in a low voice.

‘You didn’t need to.’ You told him, easily envisioning the look of frustration Jason must have on his face under the red helmet. ‘That’s was all my own doing and I don’t regret any of it.’ You grunted. ‘Not even a little. I couldn’t afford to build a future out there because there was no future for me to build when I knew I had a better chance of doing that here with you than anywhere else.’

Jason sighed, ‘you’re insufferable.’ He huffed before letting you of your wrists and standing up to his feet as he holds a hand out to you to take.

‘And you’re still a dickhead.’ You retorted smiling as you eagerly grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull you up to your feet before bringing you into his arms, holding you tightly where you melted into his body warmth.

‘Your dickhead you mean.’ He murmurs against your head.

‘yeah, my dickhead.’ You smile, knowing that evening was going to be okay from here on out.

Damian

‘I thought you skipped town.’ Damian said as he sheathed his sword.

‘You don’t sound surprised to see me.’ You replied, putting away your twin batons on your back.

Damian shrugs before looking over at you. ‘Why should I be surprised, I did say on the day you left that you’d come back home sooner or later.’ He reminds you as you both over looked the city you both once swore to protect. ‘No one leaves Gotham for long, this city has a way of pulling people back in whether they liked it or not.’

You clenched your fists at your side out of frustration because you knew that he was right, he was always right and you hated it because when you had gotten out of Gotham, it didn’t feel as though you were needed as much to protect the streets. It made you realised that being born and raised in Gotham and learning go hone the skills required to survive had became a vital part of you, a part of you that you couldn’t escape no matter has far away you go from the vile city and make a name for yourself elsewhere.

It ended up not working out and soon you found yourself going back to the place you swore you’d never go back to.

‘You didn’t miss me? Not once?’ You asked all of a sudden.

‘No. You were barely on my mind as I was busy clearing the streets you left behind.’ Damian said but even you could tell that he was lying to himself somewhat.

‘Are you sure I didn’t come to mind? Not even when you’re standing in the locations we regularly rendezvous for missions?’ You asked again.

Damian remains silent this time. Of course he missed you, there wasn’t a day that went by where he didn’t resent you for leaving Gotham, for leaving him behind when you both swore to keep Gotham safe together. Admittedly he hated you for a brief time after you left, he tried to burn every memory he had of you to prove that his hatred and resentment towards you was true, and not as an act of heartbreak and abandonment.

However Damian found himself unable to keep that facade up after three month anniversary of your departure, where found himself on the very rooftop he was now, and ironically it was the very same rooftop where you told him you were leaving Gotham indefinitely; looking up to the stars and wishing for your health and well-being whether you were.

‘No.’ Damian snipped, leaving you in a very similar to the way you had left him long ago, alone and conflicted with emotions.

[rustygem]

hi do you take requests?

if you dont, feel free to ignore, but if you do..

imagine dr ratio having a wife/husband(reader), or lover whatever. they've been married for a long whike now on a really healthy relationship. reader is a opposite to ratio, a calm collected individual who doesn't lash out

but what happens when ratio became so stubborn the reader snaps and calls dr ratio by his full name? especially in front of people?

kinda want to know your perspective and jow you write this

(i love ut writing :3 its still okay to ignore though)

彡prompt: you love dr. ratio, you do. but sometimes he can irritate the shit out of you.

彡warning(s): swearing. sorta angsty, but it’s somehow fluff. probably ooc! ratio?

彡notes: dividers by cafekitsune.

Y’know, usually date nights with a loving partner are supposed to go well. And yours with Veritas did, but only until you two started having a back and forth on paying the tip.

“Veritas, please. It’s only 100 credits.” You pinched your temple. Seriously, the waitress was nice! She wasn’t too pushy, there wasn’t any attitude. One small tip wouldn’t hurt.

“What is there to tip the woman for? For doing her job right?” He crossed his legs. “Darling, you must understand that a waitress who isn’t unbearably contemptible isn’t one deserving of a tip.”

“For fucks sake…she’s gonna come over here in less than five minutes. If you don’t want to pay her, I will.” As soon as you took out your wallet, Veritas just shook his head.

You were endearing and your emotional intelligence was admirable. But for goodness sakes, you seemed just a little too insistent on spending extra credits for somebody just doing their job.

As if it was right on cue, you gave the waitress the bill, along with a 100 credit tip with a smile.

It wasn’t until you stopped the waitress from leaving to give her another 50 credits that Veritas just huffed and snatched the money out of your hands.

“Okay, that’s enough. She doesn’t need anymore money than you gave her.” He put your credits in his wallet, glaring at you. “Don’t be so careless with your credits.”

The nervous waitress looked at him, then at you. Her nerves only increased as she saw your eye twitch.

You raised your voice. “Veritas Ratio, quit being prudish and give her the credits!”

It wasn’t the yelling that made him recoil, it was the anger in your tone and voice. Frustration wasn’t new, but you were actually mad at him.

Noticing the eyes on you, your boyfriend, and the poor…poor waitress, your anger subsided.

“Uh…Please. Please give her the credits.” You spoke softly now, mumbling a softer ‘thanks’ as he handed her the money.

However, the waitress took a deep breath, and spoke up. “I can assure you 100 credits is more than enough for me. But thank you.” The waitress smiled at you and walked off with the check.

You picked at your nails, lip quivering as you thought about what you should say to your boyfriend—who was several steps ahead of you.

Noticing this, he looked at you as he continued walking. “If you feel guilt–ridden because you think you’ve hurt my feelings, then banish the thought immediately.”

You rushed next to him, looking at him with lingering feelings of doubt and regret. “Yeah well, I’m sorry for yelling at you and making a scene.”

God, what’s wrong with me? You thought to yourself.

He frowned, watching tears brim your eyelashes. “It’s not like you weren’t provoked.” He sighed before continuing.

“But, in all honesty sweetheart, I thought you were being too benevolent like always.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you stared at your shoes.

“Though, your attempt at trying to put me in my place made me reconsider something.” He stopped, eyeing you.

“I considered you to be someone who’s too kind for their own good. That was one of the things I wanted you to work on.”

And you swear you saw him smile for a second. “But, you’re still capable of standing your ground, so perhaps I misjudged. Apologies.”

Embarrassed, you scratched your cheek. “That’s sweet of you, Ver–ow!”

He pinched your cheek with his fingertips. “Though, the next time you want to raise your voice at me, I’d prefer you do it in a more private setting.”

[hadesnumber1daughter]

Pretty like the sun

Pairing: Percy Jackson x Apollo daughter OC (she classes as an oc cause I gave her a name but you can just read it like your name or Y/N if you want, I just feel better when I'm writing and the characters have names :)

Summary: Percy has always felt something for you, something that you had felt aswell. These quests of life and death finally knocked some sense into you two.

Warnings: Blood, Pain, Agony, Violence, Weapons, Wounds, Wound treating, Curse words, Oblivious idiots, Fluff, Angsty??, Sexual tension, Mutual pining, Almost death, Non-Canon, Hugs, Kisses, Holding hands, Ooc Percy??? Cerberus as a violent dog (ik she isnt really but this is my imagine so idc), Not proof-read, GUT-WRENCHING LOVE, IDK how i wrote this considering I've never been in a relationship OR have ever had an actual crush in my 16 sad years of life

Words: 6.3k

Notes: This is my first imagine so I'm sorry if its bad😭😭. Also if anyone would be willing to give me a few pointers when it comes to working this app as a creator please do cause, yeah I've been using this app for years but I have no idea how to use it when it comes to posting things. I would be very grateful. ❤️❤️❤️. Also, if anyone wants to request something else for me to write I would love to write something for either Percy or Luke, I'll probably make a list of people who I'm willing to write for later today cause it is 10am rn and I haven't slept so I'll just go bed after this 😭😭😭

As soon as percy got handed this quest, with Grover being part of the cloven council and Annabeth being gone to spend time with her family, Percy knew his immediate first choice would be Aurora, there was no doubt about it. The Apollo girl had a spark about her that has drawn him in the second he laid eyes on her.

He had deemed it because she was a daughter of Apollo so there would always be some sort of light that would draw him in, but he hasnt been very sure of that for a very long time. Every time he laid eyes on her, it felt as though time stood still and she was the only source of light and happiness in this dark, gloomy world. 

They had became extremely close when he first came to camp, she taught him the ropes in archery as to put it plainly, he was absolutely shit at it. He had no aim and his stance was awful, in her own words.

When she first said that to him, he wanted to throw her in a dumpster, but then he saw her, he properly saw her. He didnt know what Aphrodite looked like, but he was sure she would be a spitting image of the girl. He was even more sure that she was a daughter of Aphrodite but instead she was not, which made sense as to why she was hanging around the archery booth. From that day forward, she helped him freshen his archery skills, and he helped her with her sword skills.

He has never understood why she wouldnt ask Luke as he was the best swords-man and would probably be a better trainer. However, when he brough it up to her one time her cheeks flushed the tiniest bit and she stated how she was helping him, so he should do that same.

That's how they have ended up here. In the middle of nowhere, trying to find and 'kill' a beast that has been accidently lost and let out from the underworld and send it back. Although quests always have 3 people on them, the oracle specifically stated that this was only a 2 person job. Percy had never been so sure in picking Aurora at that moment in time. 

🌊

"Are you sure we are going the right way Perce, I swear I've seen this tree 3 times already" Aurora stated this time taking a dagger and marking said tree with an X so if they do cross it again, she would be right.

"You never trust my navigation skills sunshine, why is that, is it cause you always get lost in my eyes" he says turning to look at her with a smug smile on his face. The girl abruptly stopped at his turn and could feel the blood rush to her cheeks in that moment, her honey-brown eyes immediately locked with his water coloured eyes and she broke the gaze, not letting him have the satisfaction of being right.

"You wish seaweed brain" she muttered and walked past him knocking into his shoulder in the process which led to him letting out a dramatic gasp.

"That hurts sunshine. Where are you going, it's getting dark, we should stop, set up camp and get some rest so we can re-think and re-strategize." The girl slowly stops her steps and turns her back to the boy who is standing there leaning against a tree with his arms crossed giving her a cocky glance that makes her want to die and kill him at the same time. 

The two had a stand-off for a bit before one decided to speak up.

"As long as I don't have to scavenge this creepy forest for wood then its fine by me" the girl said walking back to him while his eyes following her every movement till she was a few steps away from him. The girl went to grab something from her pocket with her left hand and with her right, she grabbed the boys arms and dragged her hand down it, to his hand which automatically opened up. She placed something cold into it with her left hand.

He looked at her and she had a glint in her eyes he hadn't seen for the past 12 hours, looking to his palm, he was a coin. Not just any ordinary coin or ordinary drachma. It was a coin from sea life, the one coin they give to one another which can be used for many thing, they talked it over before the quest. The coin can only be used for 2 things during this quest, to make sure the other doesnt die, or the person who has been handed the coin has to do what the person giving the coin wants no matter what.

He looked up at her with a confused look but seeing the mischief in her eyes gave enough away. Sighing he pocketed the coin and stepped away from the tree which only left 3 steps in-between the two. 

"What do you want me to do" not even bothering arguing.

"I want to see you fail at making a fire" she said just giving him the brightest smile, basically oozing sunlight from her. The boy felt like a deer stuck in headlights in that moment, he almost forgot the reason for her heavenly smile. He wanted to tell her he loved her right there and then, that he could never get enough of her, that he searched for her in every room he ever walked into, that she was the one and only constant source of light in his life, that she was the sun and he would orbit her in every universe no matter how close he got, no matter how much it destroyed him. He was utterly inconsolable without her. He loved her.

"Aurora" the boy started to say, in a serious tone which immediately made the girl's smile falter as she looked into his eyes, he didnt need to say anything. His eyes spoke more words than he would have liked, enough for the girl to get the message and understand him. All of the glances, the subtle touches, the comfort of each other like no other. She felt and understood it all. 

He was about of continue when a roar sounded, echoing in all directions and rustling the trees. The two could hear the howl of Cerberus all around them. Percy immediately uncapped riptide while Aurora unclasped her bracelet which turned into a bow and an unlimited supply of arrows. 

The both circled back to back, covering each others blind spot like muscle memory. They could feel the ground shake with each step the otherworldly creature took. 

"How are we going to do this?" the girl asked while keeping an eye on all of her surroundings. 

"You distract with your arrows as they are long-range and while she's focused on you, I'll go for the kill shot"

"She can't die" she could feel him rolling her eyes as the words left her mouth.

"You know what I mean" 

They could hear the low growl from the side of them. The three-headed beast emerged in all its glory with its 6 menacing eyes ready to rip these two teens to shreds and send the wrong beings in this equation to the underworld. Percy turned to stand next to Aurora and the girl grabbed his hand and squeezed to which he immediately responded. There were many unspoken words that had been said in the past 10 minutes and this was another addition 'dont die, be safe, come back to me'.

Slipping through her fingers, his hand left hers and quietly stalked away before the beast could get any idea there were 2 of them. Wishing the best for the boy, she instantly got the dogs attention by shooting an arrow at the middle head's nose. 

It did not like that.

They all barked at once and got ready to run at the girl. She didn't like to admit it but she was fucking terrified. Cerberus ran at her and she leapt to the side and ran as fast as she could not looking back until she could feel he's a little away from her. She got another arrow ready in her bow and blindly shot it behind her. 

She heard a small whimper which brought a smirk to her face but that was immediately wiped away as she heard the barking intensify. Hiding behind a tree the girl caught her breaths and looked for the hound and she couldnt spot it or Percy. She got another arrow ready and looked behind the tree once again but was faced with the thing she was hunting. 

Fear spread to every part of her body and she had no time to brace the impact as the dog clawed the tree which in return clawed her. She let out a bloodcurdling scream as she was flung into another tree. The bark from the destroyed tree splintered her, her head hit against a tree on impact and the large gash on her side felt like a fire that was melting her skin off. The girl felt her breath stick in her throat, she felt as though she was dying as immense pain filled her and black spots invaded her vision. Only one other thing was on her mind.

Percy.

The ocean eyed boy lost sight of Cerberus immediately as it began to chase Aurora, his Aurora. He followed as fast as he could not wanting anything bad to happen to the girl he loved before he got any chance to be with her, to confess and to just live a life content with his feelings. 

As he heard, the whoosh of Aurora's arrows increase, he could feel himself being uncapable of keeping up with the beast from the underworld and he cursed himself for it. He lost sight of Cerberus and it scared him, it was too quiet. He couldn't hear the creature or the girl he loved. 

His heartbeat quickened as he looked all around him trying to see a glimpse of either of them. 

Then all blood drain out of his face when he heard the one sound he wished he did not have to hear, ever. Aurora's scream made his heart almost leap out of his chest. He didnt know what to do, he didnt know where she was, he couldnt see the hound, its his fault, she going to die because of him. 

She most certainly is going to die if you dont get a fucking move on, that one voice in his head said. And he pushed all the doubts to the back of his head and focused on 2 things. Defeating Cerberus and finding Aurora. 

He could hear the three-headed dogs footsteps and instantly ran to it. It didnt see him coming and it's tail was on the ground so he didnt the best thing he could think of. He ran up the tail onto the body of the beast.

This elicited loud barking from the beast and Percy could only do one thing. Repeatedly stab the dog until it dissolved. 

Now... admittedly, this was not a good strategy. It was fucking awful. There was no thought to his stabs, they all just angered the beast and considering she was quite resistance to stabs, it wasnt helping. He was just tiring himself out. 

He then has the genius idea of stabbing the beast in the eye, or eyes. He started with the left head. The beast let out a large whimper, and stumbled which cause the boy to almost loose his grip on it. He wasnt going to stop now, he needed to send Cerberus back and get to Aurora.

Aurora. Her scream was echoing in his mind. Bouncing around his skull like he has no brain inside, only her gut-wrenching scream.

He subtly shook his head. As much as he was dreading where she was and if she was okay. He needed to secure Cerberus and he needed all attention to so it as fast a possible to get back to his sunshine.

He then stabbed riptide into both the right heads eyes. Percy knew what to expect this time so he braced himself and held on as tight as he could. He could not fail now. He was too close.

The dog slumped onto the floor which made percy's last task much more easier. With agility and caution the boy leapt onto the middle head and punctured the eyes out which evoked a whimper which made the boy feel bad for the animal and it slowly turned to dust. 

In an instant the boy caught his breath and his mind raced with only one thing. 

Aurora.

"Aurora! Sunshine! Where are you?" The boy felt as though he could not breathe. His head was spinning trying to find her in the mountains of trees and in the darkness of this forest, he has never needed to see her more now than any other time. 

"Aurora! Please if you can hear me make a sound! Anything so I know you're alive" He would never leave her. He would die before he left her to rot in these woods. He would never be able to face the guilt and loss.

"Please! Say SOMETHING" he could feel himself getting frustrated. "HELP! SOMEONE, ANYONE" tears welded in his eyes trying to find her. 

There was a rustle of leaves from the left side behind him. He was running to the sound before it even registered in the back of his mind. He kept hearing the rustling and a small whimper. 

He saw a faint glow of light behind a tree and he held his breath for the sight that was to come. He skidded to a stop and fell on his knees infront of her.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he saw her. Her face was significantly paler than when he left her and she had a wood splinter sticking out of her thigh and worst of all, the 4 claw marks across her abdomen with blood everywhere, it seemed to have stopped pouring, but it was a nauseating sight to see. He didnt know what to do. 

"Aurora, darling, open your eyes" his hands reached her cheeks and his thumb rubbed circled on her cheek and his two fingers made their way to her neck to check her pulse. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse. It was faint but not too faint to the point it would slip too far out of his grasp. 

He reached for his bag on his back to get some first aid supplies, ambrosia and nectar for the girl, when she let out a pained gasp.

The girl had barely an recollection of anything, the only thing on her mind at the moment was the immense pain shooting through her whole body, It felt like she was on fire and couldnt breathe. She wanted to die.

Then her vision cleared and she saw the golden haired boy looked at her like she was the only thing in the whole world, he held so much worry in his eyes that she thought for a second if she was already dead and it was her spirit seeing his reaction to her death.

"Gods, Aurora, you're okay. You had be so worried, I was terrified, I cannot lose you. If I lost you I would lose myself" The boy held one hand to her cheek while speaking so intently to her.

In that one moment she could feel his stare, like clockwork, bubble something inside of her. It almost made her forget why she was on the ground, why she could taste something metallic in the back of her mouth, why she couldnt move her right leg. It almost took it away. Almost.

That fire spread throughout her body again and she couldnt stop the wail that left her mouth. The pain was nauseating. A flood of curses left Percy's mouth as he grabbed the bottle of nectar and opened it.

"Okay, sunshine, I know you're in a lot of pain but I'm going to give you some nectar, you need to drink it but you need to sit up a little straighter." The girl immediately shook her head as a no in response to the boy. 

"I know. The amount of times we've both had to do it but you know deep down that its the only thing that will fix it." The girl tried to harden her stare at the boy but she was too weak to even look at him properly.

"O-okay, but... I can't" she inhaled sharply as she tried to move the slightest bit. She didn't have to finish her sentence for the boy to understand what she was trying to say. He took one his flannel button ups from his bag, scrunched it up and gave it to her. She could only give him a confused look.

"Put it in your mouth, bite down hard cause I'm gonna move you into the right position and its gonna be a pain. I'm sorry sunshine but I have to." She took it with her shaking hands and was about to put it in her mouth when she smelt it, sea salt and musk, then the girl really looked at what the item of clothing was. 

"this is yours" she said in a hoarse voice, looking up at him, confusion plastered all over her features.

"Well I dont exactly know where your bag is so next best thing." he gave her a weak smile and moved closer to her but she weakly grabbed his hand.

"I'm scared" she whispered so pathetically but the boy understood, he knew her. He knew that he needed to keep talking to her, to make sure he is doing something close enough to her for her to know that she's still alive. 

He only interlaced their fingers and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. 

"I won't let go, I promise. You aren't leaving me, not after everything we have been through together" the girl's eyes welled with tears but she nodded and stuffed her mouth with Percy's flannel. 

He wrapped his arms around her from the side, where he was sitting and placed a kiss in the hair before counting down.

"3...2..." the boy didnt get to 1 before he pulled her up so she was sitting not laying down and with the movement came muffled screams and tears that flowed down the girls face. He was whispering sweet nothings in her ear as she lent into him and he repeatedly kissed her hair or forehead. 

"I'm sorry sunshine, I really am. When you're all better I promise you can hit me" he tried to uplift her but she could barely hear him. Her body shook and agony filled her every sense. He couldn't even express the guilt and regret he felt for the girl, immediately grabbing the nectar, and slowly taking his flannel out of her mouth. 

"You're doing great sweetheart" he says while slowly pouring the nectar into her mouth. Her head is resting against his shoulder as she swallows the drink down in small sips. After she drank it, Percy put it away and the girl began to close her eyes.

"Hey, hey, sunshine you can't be doing that right now. Come on I need to patch you up and then we need to get back to camp, I'll call blackjack. I know how much you like riding on him" he lifts her head off his shoulder and places her on the tree, but this time sitting up so he has easy access to her abdomen. 

She opened one eye and slightly smiled at the boy.

"You're gonna call blackjack?" the girl asked a bit delirious but seemingly in less pain. This brought a instant smile to him as he let out a chuckle, nodding his head while grabbing gauze and 2 bandage rolls.

"I promise I will, but you have to make sure to keep fighting okay. Once this is over, I have something special to tell you" He came loser to the girl and her breath slowed for a moment. 

He looked at her abdomen and a thought crossed his head that made blood rush to his cheeks, he was thankful the girl was delirious and it was dark or else he would simply wallow away. He cleared his throat and looked back up to the girl.

"I'm going to have to cut your shirt off so I can access the cuts and clean them properly" he looked into her eyes once but couldnt face her after that.

"okay" she whispered in return, locking her eyes onto his every move. 

The boy went back into his bag and grabbed a pair of scissors then faced the girl again. He could feel her watchful eyes on him the entire time and he hated to say it but that small voice in the back of his head was wishing she was a bit more delirious right now so he wasnt under her scrutiny while undressing her. Clearing his throat again, he begins to speak.

"Just tell me when to slow down or when to stop, if it gets too painful for you and I'll stop and slow down, okay" he looked to her for reassurance and an okay, to which she nodded.

He didn't know how to position himself so he just opted for kneeling next to her, facing her. He then grabbed the scissors and started to cut her top. Starting from the bottom to the top. As he reached the first claw mark the girl hissed as the shirt was stuck to the wound due to all the dried blood. Percy automatically stopped what he was doing. 

"No, no, keep going, don't stop now otherwise we will never get this done and I can't go back to camp cause I'll be dead" her honey-brown eyes were glossed with tears and the boy just wanted to hold her in his arms until the end of time in a place where they aren't fighting monsters all the damn time and in a place where they can settle down, have fun and just enjoy their life like regular teenagers.

"Don't say that so casually, you are not going to die. Not when you have me. Not when I'll always be here for you, patching you up, nursing you back to health forever. I will never in a million years let you die. I swear on the river Styx." 

She couldn't say anything to him, he will always render her speechless. She just nodded her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks to which he wiped away and placed a kiss on her forehead. Feeling the warmth off eachother brought a sense of peace to them that no one else could ever fill. 

He finished wiping her tears away and then continued cutting her shirt away from the wound. Every time she hissed, winced or flinched, the boy had the overwhelming urge to stop everything he was doing as long as it stopped bring her more pain. Whenever this would happen, the girl would softly squeeze his knee, as her hand was resting there to make sure he was still close to her and was still okay and breathing. 

This reassured him immensely but it did not stop him from the guilt that was drowning him. This would not have happened if it wasn't for him. She would not be in this position right now if he just chose someone else to go on the quest with. She had almost died due to his decision making. He chose her, he told her the plan, the plan that put her straight into danger, he didnt even second guess his choice, he put her into the battlefield without even asking her properly. Whatever he said went. 

The boy had not realised that during his intense self-loathing session, he zoned out and stopped the task at hand.

"Perce?" the girl asked while bringing her hand from his knee to his bicep. "Are you okay? whats going on in your kelp filled brain?" she said with a half smile as the boy looked up at her.

"Nothing, its okay. Just zoned out for a sec" he replied in an instant, looked away from her and continued to cut her shirt away. He was almost at her breasts and he could feel himself getting a bit hot. Obviously, there was no reason to in this situation but just being so close and intimate to her in a non sexual way made him flustered, he couldn't even imagine of it was in a sex- STOP. He shouted at his brain.

She let out a whimper of pain and a few laboured breaths as Percy carefully peeled her shirt of off the biggest wound she had. Her hand squeezed his knee harder than he would have liked her to but it didnt matter, not anymore, not when he caused this, not when he was the reason for her pain. 

He finally got it off the biggest cut and last cut and now he just had to cut the rest of the shirt off. No big deal right?

WRONG. 

The boy was telling himself to suck it up and just cut the rest of her shirt off but he was flustered. It was times like this that made him remember he was just a boy. He was just a boy with a silly crush. Except it isnt a 'silly crush' he was utterly in love with the girl. He tried to clear his head and at the same time, cleared his throat while he cut higher. 

He could feel her eyes watching him, he could feel how fast her heart was racing and he could feel how fast his own was racing. It was as though their hearts were in sync. Every beat was the same. 

Yes the girl felt flustered in this situation, she also couldn't help but want to tease the boy she loved. The girl had always grown up with a life where she never 'loved' anyone, not truly. To her love was always a very strong word in her dictionary but whatever she felt for Percy Jackson it was so powerful she felt as though she needed a word more meaningful than love. 

A word that expressed how everytime she thought of him, that specific memory of him will be branded in her brain forever to the point where even Hera could never make her forget him or forget the way he makes her feel.

He makes her feel alive, the most alive shes every felt in her 16 years of life.

"Are you blushing water boy?" the girl asked him with a half smile on her face and eyes half opened as she felt a sharp pain run through her, while also trying to control her own breathing at the same time. Percy didn't respond, he only kept cutting her shirt off, fingers lightly brushing over the material of her bra. 

She held her breath when he did that, whether it was on purpose of not, the feeling it sent through her body made her want to repeatedly bash her head against a solid wall while ripping her eyes out... in a good way of course. 

Percy finally cut her shirt fully off and it just slid down her arms and bunched at the bottom, near the tree. She felt exposed and could feel the goosebumps on her exposed skin. Percy didn't waste any time and grabbed a clean towel and his water bottle.

Before he could drenched it in water, she stopped him by kicking him with her uncompromised leg to indicate he needed to stop. This instantly stopped him and caused him to look at her. 

"Give me the water bottle before you soak the towel, if the water is warm it will work better and not hurt as much so i'll just heat it up" Percy thought about it for a second before he retaliated.

"You already aren't well enough to get off the ground, how on earth are you going to make it back to camp if you drain yourself of more energy. I know its going to hurt but it will either way, but getting you back to camp is the priority at the moment" Percy didnt want to say those words to the girl, he felt so bad for her and he couldn't help but blame himself. And when he looked into her eyes, like really looked into her eyes after he said that, he wished he could take it back.

Just looking at her made him want to give into her. 

"I can take it, I promise, I'll be okay enough to get back to camp, but I'm telling you now Percy, if I feel anymore extreme pain, I will just end up passing out. Please just let me do this." she tried to move closer to the boy but forgot about the fact that she literally could not move a single inch without his help. 

This just lead the boy to wrap his arm around her back and lent her against the tree again. He looked at her with a stern look.

"Okay, you win. But you have to promise on the river Styx that you will preserve every other bit of your energy for the ride back home." 

"I swear on the River Styx that I will preserve every other bit of my energy for the ride back to camp" He gave her one last look before giving her the water bottle. She focused some most of her energy to her hands and they started to glow. She took the bottle from percy's hand and he could feel the warmth radiate off of her. 

He looked at her in awe but if anyone else was there they would have told you that the boy was love struck. She opened her eyes and made sure to not boil the water. As it was simmering, she gave the bottle back to the boy and he instantly uncapped it and poured the, now warm, water onto the towel. 

"This is going to hurt... a lot, and by a lot i mean a lot, you might want to brace yourself" the boy said as he gave his flannel back to her and some ambrosia for her to eat before they start the painful part of fixing her up.

Aurora took both and muttered a small thanks under her breath before eating the ambrosia which was very pleasant to chew and then stuffed percy's flannel in her mouth again. She felt so weird but if she didnt and someone heard her scream bloody murder, they would get caught and the police would want them... again.

His ocean blue eyes met her honey eyes and he shared a look of regret and guilt before he wiped the dried blood away, starting from the bottom of her abdomen. She instantly clenched her jaw and recoiled as agony ran through her and her hand immediately shot out to grab Percy's wrist in a painfully tight hold to stop him from further cleaning the wounds that caused her pain.

"Sunshine, I know its painful, but I have to do this, I'm going to do this as fast and gently as I can but I will have to be rough at times" he gently takes his freehand to clasp over hers and took it of him and intertwined them while speaking to her. 

In his favour, it seemed that the energy it took the girl to warm the water up finally caught up with her as her hand lost most of its grip and her eyes closed slightly. He chuckled slightly and placed her hand back down next to her before continuing what he was doing.

He carefully but efficiently cleaned the areas surrounding her wounds while she was rejuvenating. He would hear muffled noises from time to time but other than that she was essentially knocked out. As he finished she seemed to feel less tired and her eyes opened wider than they did before.

"I'm almost finished sunshine, did you like your nap?" the boy questioned with a smirk but deep down he was glad that she kept her promise and she would have enough energy to go back to camp.

The girl nodded and looked at her abdomen. It was really clean and the wounds were barely bleeding anymore but she was fucking freezing. She shivered a little bit and percy could tell instantly.

"I've just got to bandage you up then you can put a jumper on. Okay?" he reassured her while taking the sterile dressing, he placed it over the 4 slashes and began to unwrap the dressing to bandage her up.

They both soon found the position to be quite awkward. 

Percy needed to bandage her whole abdomen which needed him to wrap the dressing over her back but she was lent up against the tree without a shirt on and unable to move to do it herself. He stopped to think of a good way to do this.

"Okay, I've got it. I'll lean you up against me and bandage your abdomen from behind." The girl thought for a bit before she agreed and the boy got up so he was only seen in her peripheral vision. He hooked his arms under hers and moved her along the ground to sit inbetween his legs. The position felt very compromising for both of them but it needed to be done.

She could feel his warm breath on her cold neck and she felt the urge to pass away because if thats how she passed, she would not mind. She held her breath as Percy begun wrapping her abdomen, she could barely feel the pain cause all she could think about and feel was him.

His breath on her neck, his fingers brushing her skin, how carefully he was handling her, like she would break at the wrong touch. He was everything she wanted, everything she needed. Everything they both deserved.

He quickly finished wrapping her up and he mentally called Blackjack from where ever he was right now. Before he could move or start to get things sorted he just looked at Aurora. She was peaceful. She looked ethereal under the moonlight, though she did look better under direct sunlight.

He decided to just stay still for a bit and wrapped an arms around the girl loosely as to not injure or hurt her more. They just needed some rest, no matter how long or short it was.

Both Aurora and Percy could hear the flap of Blackjacks wings so he quickly moved the girl back to lean against the tree while he packed everything away. Not before making sure to torniquet the girls leg where the wood piece was still protruding out of it. He made the decision before to not take it out as they both did not know how severe the injury underneath it was.

Percy grabbed a warm, woolly jumper from his bag and a blanket and gave both items to the girl before zipping it up.

"I'm going to find your bag and your bracelet before we leave, and before you say anything. I'm going to call Blackjack here to be with you before I look for them" he stated as he got up.

"Thanks a lot Perce, but before you look, how am I meant to put this jumper on without raising my arms and disrupting my bandages" Percy felt like an idiot. He dropped his bag back on the ground and knelt next to her carefully putting the jumper through one arms hole, then the next, then her head through.

Percy would never admit it there and then but he always loved when the girl would wear his clothes. It sent a warm fuzzy feeling through him knowing she was wearing his clothes, especially when she was willingly wearing his clothes. 

Similarly, Aurora would never admit it there but having Percy help her get changed into his clothes and help clean her up made her fall even more in love with him if that was even possible. She felt as though she was just falling into deep pit everytime he did anything for her or even just looked her way. 

He finished by wrapping her up in the blanket and chuckled when he saw how she looked... Exactly like a burrito. 

Blackjack came down and the girls eyes instantly widened at the sight of the creature. To which the boy just smiled at. Before he left to retrieve her bag and bracelet which were very easy to find. He quickly arrived back to the girl and Pegasus and was met with an adorable sight.

The Pegasus was on the floor next to the girl and was almost hugging her with its wing. Percy didnt think he could fall in love with the girl again but she has gone and proved him wrong, like always. 

"I've got your things sunshine, and I know its going to hurt but I'm going to have to pick you up to put you on Blackjack. Is that okay?" He knelt next to her and she nodded.

He wrapped an arm around her back and one under her knees, making sure not to hit the piece of wood and picked the girl up, quite easily, bridal style. It make them both feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even blackjack could feel the warmth.

He placed her sitting on the Pegasus so she would be infront of him when he got on. He then grabbed both of their bags and got onto blackjack himself. 

"You'd normally need to hold on tight to blackjack but I'll hold you okay? Just rest" The boy whispered in her ear as he gave her a peck on her cheek while she slowly drifted off and leaned her head back onto the boy's shoulder.

"Blackjack, No crazy flying today. We aren't at war today, its a rest day. Just take us back to camp, quick but not to the point we normally fly." Blackjacks reply left Percy with pink staining his cheeks and they made their way back to camp.

______________________________________________________________

OH MY FUCKING DAYS, I AM NEVER WRITING ANYTHING THIS LONG AGAIN

(such a fucking lie)

But I have to honest, apart from the small mental breakdowns. This was really fun to write. I love these two soo much.

When I went into this, I wanted to actually get them back to camp and I wanted them to confess but it was getting tooooooo long for that so if anyone wants a part 2, I'll gladly make it. Please dont critique me too much, this is still my first imagine 😭😭😭

I LOVE YOU ALL ❤️❤️❤️

unless you piss me off

[elvenbeard]

Old and Happy

😭 my feels have been all over the place since I finally finished this! Don't even remember when I started, as I kept working on and off on it over a couple of months. But I think it was after writing something particularly angsty and going "you know what, they will get their happy ending though, so it's all good".

Some details and thoughts below the read more cause it got long hhhh ;A;

This is in about 2087 maybe, roughly "ten years later". Vince changed his hair, ditched the rattail for good (or again xD) for something still colorful but a bit more easy to style. But he might change it up again, he's done so repeatedly and still likes to experiment with his hair.

Not visible, he probably would've added some elements to his back tattoo after surviving all of 2077. Johnny's tattoo he covered up as well, he would've done that first probably before the back piece. Adding some things here and there over time, with colors and patterns and wings, some cherry blossoms ('cause a thing of beauty will never truly fade away - hence just not getting laser removal but covering it with something that suits him more, but keeping some elements like the J and V visible). It started with three roses below the "V" as a little homage to Jackie, and 2077 as the year that finally put him on the right track in his life, even if it almost killed him in the process.

Overall he is a healthier weight than he was for most of his life, and finally got some therapy he desperately needed to deal with all the crap he went through pre-2077 already. He's not dyeing his first grey hairs because hell, that he's even still around to get some is amazing with his line of work and life story. And he realized that there's no need to be super well put togeher 24/7, clean shaven and whatnot, when you know you're just gonna be hanging out with your man and cat all weekend (and actually allowing yourself to something like that - leisure time and pizza in bed, unheard of to 2077!Vince). He's doing good and feels good and comfortable, physically and mentally.

Kerry also changed, also embracing the dad bod over abs, probably still experimenting with his looks a lot now and then whenever the label feels like they need to draw attention to him for whatever reason. But to the brown eyes he returned in 2078 already in my headcanon for the Sun ending timeline, and he stuck with them.

Overall I think he might finally care a little less about other people's opinions too, the buzz and the drama, cause he knows that at the end of the day there's always gonna be someone waiting for him at home who loves him unconditionally. He's a bit calmer and at ease, but of course still up to no good whenever he gets the chance to stir shit up xD Vince and him remain to be a dangerous duo you don't wanna mess with. At that point Vince is a well-respected, even if somewhat elusive, fixer, so he's probably even more dangerous now than he used to be as a mere merc with an arsenal of connections and resources at his disposal that can almost rival Kerry's.

I also gave Kerry a lil new cyberware piece on his hand - he is an old man and I think, using his hands as a musician on the daily, at some point there's just gonna be some wear and tear to your bones and joints only tech can fix anymore... Especially if you're stubborn and refuse to retire cause no, you're not done yet, you still have so much to yell into the world and music to make, stuff to add to your legacy and all.

Last but not least: Nibbles is an old lady already as well here, but living her best life with her dads spoiling her rotten, of course!

And then öalkshjdfagsdföasgdfaösfh ;___;

Y'know, "to bad decisions" and all, and two very different pieces still fitting together perfectly somehow, and light and shadows, and the sun and moon and yeah. ;___; Brb crying, the feels are back xD

Thanks so much for reading if you made it this far!! They mean so much to me and aösdjhfajsfhasfk could go on forever about every little detail xD On to the next drawing!

[thewulf]

Annoyed || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Could you please write Jake Seresin x Reader! where Jake loves annoying Reader with witty comebacks and what not and usually Reader just smiles or gives it back. One day after work, she comes home from work and just wants to relax... Read Rest Here

A/N: Jake is just my fav. Loved writing this slightly angsty to hella fluffy one shot. Thank you for the request @catsandbooksandstuff

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 2.8k +

It had been the day from hell. Quite literally. Your boss announced he was quitting on the spot. The company decided to put in a temporary boss who was an absolute terror from the instant you met him. He wanted all the spreadsheets you’d worked on over the last year sent to him to review, hell.

Then once lunch rolled around you had remembered you conveniently forgot your lunchbox sitting on the counter at home. To make matter worse there wasn’t a single thing from the cafeteria that sounded even remotely appetizing. There wasn’t enough time to run out, so you settled on the vending machine snacks, delicious.

When the hellish day finally ended you were nearly in tears when you got to your car and got the ‘flat tire’ light. You tried to ring Jake, your favorite roommate, but it went right to voicemail. He must’ve still been in the air. Triple A it was.

After nearly fourteen hours away from the house you finally made it home. You weren’t in the mood for your usual banter with Jake to say the least. Normally you adored it, welcomed the casual back and forth that came so easily between the two of you. He had perfected annoying you but not getting under your skin and vice versa.

“How was your day?” Jakes voice snapped you out of your stupor. You’d been lost in your thoughts not even hearing the damn front door open.

Your jump up from the couch cushion you were sitting on was enough to alert him something was off.

“Shit.” You answered him honestly, “Just a long not great day.”

He gave you a slight smile before setting his things down, “Hate days like that. Good thing it’s Thursday then right?” That was always like him. He always tried to find the bright side of things. A quality you’d come to love but found oddly annoying right now. As good of a trait as it was sometimes you just wanted to bitch and have someone agree with you. Sometimes you didn’t want to heart the fucking bright side. Sometimes you just wanted to wallow. And this was that sometimes.

He nudged you on one time too many. You didn’t mean to take it out on him. You really didn’t. But the combination of the day. Your irritation and his incessant nagging you’d had enough, “Christ Jake. Can’t you tell I’m not in the mood?” You huffed before standing and walking away from the couch. Everything was annoying you. The confused and surprisingly soft look

“I’m sorry…” He stood starting to walk over to you before you shook your head.

“Please just stop. I’m annoyed. Please. Just let me be.” Your voice was laced with unusual irritation that he wasn't used to. In the eight months that you’d been roommates he’d yet to see this side of you and it terrified him that he could be the cause of your disdain.

He put his hands up letting you walk out of the shared living room and right into your room. You didn’t slam your door which was a good sign, but you clearly weren’t happy. Hopefully at the world and not directly at him.

Jake took a moment to contemplate his next actions. He’d wanted so desperately to go knocking on your door, but he also wasn’t dumb. You’d looked and sounded exasperated when you asked him to back off. You needed space and he needed to respect that as much as he wanted to go in and comfort you.

You shut your door and dove straight onto your bed feeling oddly guilty about the encounter you’d just had with the man. He was doing nothing but being his usual self and you’d snapped at him. You’d surely fucked whatever weird relationship you were building with the man right on up. Deciding to apologize later you’d let yourself wallow in whatever self-induced pity party you were ready for.

He opted to eat dinner then he’d check in on you. That’d give you about an hour to cool off. Maybe he was an idiot for going to check in on your so soon after you’d deliberately told him to fuck off. But Jake was a glutton for your punishment. He’d never admit it to your face, but he’d do just about anything for you. He was a smitten man. Whipped as could be. You were as clueless as could be though.

With sudden nerves he powered through and knocked on your door lightly. When he didn’t get a response he knocked a little louder knowing you really couldn’t have gone too far.

“Yeah?” He heard you mumble.

He smiled knowing it wasn’t the ‘go away’ he was expecting, “Can I come in?”

You contemplated for just a second before you gave way, “Sure.”

Jake didn’t take another second before he was in your room kneeling on the ground beside your laying body in bed, “Hey.” You spoke after a moment of silence, neither of you really knowing how to approach the situation.

“Am I annoying?” He asked you without missing a beat. You’d learned quickly how the man never really beat around the bush. He spoke what was on his mind.

You groaned knowing you’d never be able to get out of discussing your semi-meltdown with the man. He’d never let you get away with that, “No, you’re not annoying Jake.” You turned away from him not being able to bear the stare he was giving you, “Sometimes you are annoying. Sometimes I’m annoying. But no, you aren’t annoying. I’m just irritated with the day.”

He gave you a soft smile that you couldn’t see. You felt the bed dip as he sat near the end of the bed at your feet, “I’m sorry I didn’t pick up on it.”

You shook your head deciding to sit up. You turned yourself so you were facing him now, “It’s fine. I didn’t give you a chance. I should be apologizing.” You admitted feeling a tad more than embarrassed by your outburst earlier.

He smiled seeing your face. God, if he was sure of one thing it’d be his feelings for you. He hadn’t admitted it to anybody. Not even his buddies. But one day he found himself rushing home so he could be with you. Spend time with you. He looked forward to cooking with you. Eating dinner and bitching about each other’s days. He’d adored domesticity with you.

Quicker than he’d like to admit he started liking you. That was six months ago now. He’d yet to lay a kiss on your lips but he was sure he’d fallen hopelessly in love with you. Your entirety. He’d found a best friend by chance. It’s like the universe was forcing them together and for once he accepted it. Enjoyed it. Looked forward to it. He got upset when he was sent away for a week for training. He’d normally be stoked to go out and explore someplace new. Not now, nope. He just wanted to spend his free time with you. Even if it meant doing absolutely nothing.

“S’okay darlin’.” He grinned at you lazily. Before he even realized what he was doing his hand found itself brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face. To say your brain was short circuiting was an understatement. It was already a little overwhelming having him so close to your face. But this? His touch, so light, on your face was sending your brain into an absolute tizzy.

He must’ve sensed you were at a loss for words as he stood from his spot holding his hand out, “Come on, time to get you some dinner. Then we can keep watching Love Island?” His hesitant smile let you know he was really trying despite how annoyed you were moments ago.

“But I’m so comfy Jake.” You sighed knowing you were never going to win this battle with him, not when it came to you skipping meals. You’d had a nasty habit of it prior to living with him. He was horrified when he learned of your terrible eating habits and all but forced a normal schedule on you.

Rolling his eyes, he decided to play along with you, “Then I’ll bring you your dinner and feed it to you princess.” He smirked thinking you’d reject the offer quickly.

“You’d do that for me?” You smirked deciding to let him see how this was going to go.

He started snickering and shaking his head deciding to let it all out now, “Of course. I’d do a whole lot for you Y/N.” Because why not? What’d he have to lose? He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t let that happen. He needed to make a move, he was slowly going mad having to live and love you without living and loving on you.

You’d returned the favor of rolling your eyes before taking his hand, “As tempting as that is I think I can feed myself.”

Instead of dropping your hand he pulled your right along with him to the kitchen, “And you’re going to deny me the chance of feeding you?” He frowned as he set down a plate in front of you he’d kept warm in the oven. You couldn’t deny the teeny tiny little blush that coated your cheeks as you took in his act of kindness towards you. You were a sucker for a guy who did the small things like that for you. And Jake… Jake was one of the most thoughtful guys you’d ever met. He always thought of you first. Your show was on? He’d change the channel. If you were overly stressed he’d do more housework for you. If he noticed you didn’t make it to the store he'd pick a few of your regular things up. Jake was just, Jake. A guy unlike any other. A guy you were far too afraid to make any sort of move on.

Shaking your head, you couldn’t hide the giddy smile on your face. He just made you feel good. Unlike any other, “You’re something else Jake.”

“Hopefully that’s a good thing.” He sat down opposite you with a glass of water in hand knowing you far too well. You wouldn’t eat unless he had something too. It was entirely too awkward to chow down on your dinner if he wasn’t somewhat occupied too.

“Course it is. I’ve never met any guy like you before.” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could even attempt to stop them. He could take it so many ways you just hoped it didn’t ruin anything you’d had between him.

His eyes locked with yours deeply it sent panic throughout your entire body, “Are you flirting with me Y/N?” He asked giving you that signature Jake smirk that always seemed to get him whatever you want

Shaking your head quickly your eyes looked anywhere but at his, “No, in your dreams.” You fired back all too quickly.

But he’d decided right then and there he didn’t just want to be friends with you. He’d wanted so much more with you, “You’re right darlin’. In my dreams you are flirting with me… all the time. I’m flirting back, naturally.” He gave you a devilish smirked before continuing, “I even ask you out. And guess what?” He asked leaning forward a bit from across the table knowing he has your attention fully.

You just gave him a look of bewilderment as you took in his words, “What?” Your curiosity took over as you were entranced in every single word coming out of his mouth.

“You say yes.” He looked at you as if you were his light

It was like he stopped your racing heart right there, “Did I?” You were nervous, terribly nervous. What was he doing? You never even thought of the possibility of him possibly liking you back. No, he had to be messing with you. Had to.

He nodded slowly, “You did. You looked awfully cute too. Just like you do now.” He looked too proud of himself with that comment. You had to admit it was a smooth. Jake was always smooth though. He had such a way with words you could really only dream of having. You’d often found yourself tumbling over your own thoughts instead of forming coherent sentences.

“What?” You shook your head trying to make sure you were actually in reality and not dreaming yourself.

He shrugged, “You look cute. You often do. Cute as hell, all the time. Beautiful. Gorgeous even.” He held back on laying it on too thick in fear of chasing you off, but he certainly decided he wasn’t going to be shy about it. Not anymore. Nope, he’d crossed the line and he was jumping all the way over.

You shook your head once again not quite believing it, “Again, what?” You had to ask once more, just for confirmation. Because this wouldn’t have happened, not even in your wildest damn dreams.

He stood from his seat taking the seat right next to yours, “I like you. I think you’re stunning. Will you go out with me?” He grinned as he watched the gears turning in your mind.

You sat up a little straighter in your seat. Setting the fork down your turned your body towards him, “Me?”

“Yes, you.” He started laughing. He took your hand in his. Giving it a squeeze, he looked up to you, “I thought I made it obvious darlin’.”

You gave him a quiet laugh, “You probably have. I’m just clueless.”

Those eyes that drove you mad on a daily basis looked you over for what felt like the first time as something other than friends. More than friends. Something you’d never thought you’d see come to life.

He grabbed at your other hand holding them both tightly, but gently, in his own hands, “You’re one of the smartest people I know. But you are quite oblivious sweetheart.” He had to agree sending both of you into a fit of laughter. Both of you feeling easier in each other’s company. You knew it’d be semi-awkward for a while before the two of you found a rhythm once more.

“You weren’t supposed to agree Jake.” You stuck your tongue out at him knowing it’d help lighten the mood further, something the both of you needed.

He couldn’t contain himself as he scooted closer. He just wanted to be by you. He always did. Always, “Well you know I’m not a liar sweetheart.” His chair was touching yours now.

“A little white lie doesn’t hurt Jakey.” You’d never advocate for a full out lie but a small one to make somebody not feel like a total piece of shit never hurt your feelings. Not that Jake made you feel like a piece of shit, no. He made you feel quite the opposite of that. Loved and secure. Something you’d been craving for in a relationship since you’d left your family all those years ago but could never seem to find. Until him of course.

He raised an eyebrow at you, “Jakey?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “I’m testing out new nicknames, sue me Seresin.”

He dropped your hands earning a frown, pout, and glare in his general direction. You too craved his touch as much as he craved yours, even if he’d never admit it, “I liked Jakey better.” He placed his hands on either side of your face catching you completely off guard.

“Jakey it is.” You mumbled feeling like you were melting right in his hands. How in the hell did this man have such a strong hold on you like that? One little touch and you were putty already? God, you were absolute toast.

“No, no. You still got some more to try out darlin’. I know you do.” He spoke while running his thumbs along your cheek bones. A mess, you were an absolute pitiful mess being held up by Jakes hands presently.

You nodded as best as you could, “Sure, you got it.” You hummed feeling absolutely helpless in his hold. It was a weird yet thrilling experience. Letting yourself fall in love with him was different than any of the other guys you’d been with before. He was your friend first. You’d learned about Jake before you got to start loving on him. You knew his quirks, ticks, annoyances as best as anybody who lived with the man could. Now, you got to take what you’d collected and put it to good use.

“Y/N?” He asked after a moment of the both of you staring right at each other. Your food had long since gone cold sitting right beside you. Jake was a damn good distraction.

“Yeah?”

You watched as his eyes bounced back and forth between your own eyes and lips. A thrilling chill raced around your body before he finally spoke again, “Can I kiss you?”

“Thought you’d never ask J.” Your eyes met his. A smile broke out onto both of your faces. Everything felt so right, so correct. You’d never been so damn sure of decision in your entire life.

He hummed, “I like that one.”

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mayhemmanaged33 @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891

[words-4u]

down to their bones

pairing: jordan li x f!reader

wc: 875

warnings: none, a bit angsty, minor jealousy, lots of fluff

a/n: listened to your bones by clesea culter while writing this and kind of used it as an inspo - don't have to listen to it but you should for vibes especially near the end

hero ethics was once a class you were excited for but now that you were a month into the course, you realize it's not at all what you expected.

all you do is watch a shit ton of videos and theorize hypotheticals, there's nothing even remotely physical involved which is what you really wanted the most.

instead here you were with lia, your partner for an upcoming presentation that dean shetty insisted the class do after she took over for brink. 

“you know i still can’t believe shetty wants us to speak for 20 full minutes on ‘aero dynamics of human flight’” you said looking at the late professor brink’s book before tossing it to the side. “i can’t even fly!”

“well, i can and it doesn’t take a rocket science to figure out how,” lia laughed. she was sprawled on your double bed that was littered with two copies of the book, laptops, pens and little stickies. “i’m a hands on learner, i need to be out there in the open skies.”

she fell back on your bed and in to a fake daydream. 

“i think someone needs to get their head out of the clouds and help me with this presentation or else we’ll fail,” you leaned in playfully tapping her forehead with a highlighter. of course this is the exact most your significant other, jordan, walks in to your room.

“uuuh…hello?” jordan said. they walked in clearly having come back from the gym, in their baggy shorts, cropped blue sweater and their short bob in a ponytail.

they were expecting to find you on your own, wanting to spend the rest of the evening with you, not to find you on your bed with another girl.

“hi babe,” you raced to jordan and placed your hands on their shoulders as you kissed them. you knew something was off the second they didn’t kiss back and you were right because as you pulled back, their eyes were glued to your bed. where lia was. 

“i’m sorry, and who are you?” jordan snapped. you were slightly taken aback because this was a side of jordan you haven't seen.

“jordan, that’s lia, my partner for hero ethics and lia this is jordan, my partner outside of hero ethics and everything else,” you smiled between the two people in your room.

“yeah, they are ranked number 5 in the whole school, y/n, i know who they are. i just didn’t know you were dating a star student,” lia said looking impressed. 

“you didn’t know?” jordan parroted. “she didn’t know?”

“we got paired up like 4 hours ago on this project. it wasn’t exactly at the top of my list of things to speak to her about.”  you whispered. 

you turned to lia. “um, i’m just gonna talk to jordan outside for like 5 minutes, you can take a break if you want.”

lia gave two thumps up before pulling out her vphone.

you grabbed jordan by the wrist and dragged them out of your dorm and into the hall way. there were a couple students walking up and down the hall and some more in a corner chatting about the latest viral video from the Seven but overall it was empty enough to have this much needed conversation.

by the time you shut your door, jordan had shifted to their male form.

“what the hell is wrong you?” you asked poking their shoulder. 

jordan clenched their jaw. “what are you talking about?”

“w-what am i talking about?” you asked back. “i’m talking about the fact that lia is lucky you don’t have laser eyes or she’d fucking toast. literally!”

“i walk into your room and you have another girl on your bed, y/n, how am i supposed to feel?”

the look on their face was suddenly transparent and it dawned on you.

“you’re jealous? over a classmate? is that it?” you asked, this time your voice carrying a softer tone. 

jordan didn’t look too pleased with the fact that they let something so trivial get to them.

“j, use your words,”

“you guys just looked so close,” they said looking at you with their big brown eyes.

you sighed. “well, we’re not. but we do need to get along cause this project is worth 30% and you know your girl can’t and won’t fail,” you said which caused them to smile a bit.

“besides,” you continued pushing their back against the wall and wrapping your hands around their neck. “i’m sort of already in love with someone, like right down to their bones, and as long as they are in my life no one else stands a chance.”

jordan leaned their forehead against yours. “i’m sorry for how i reacted. it was shitty.”

“apology accepted,” you whispered. “now give me a kiss. a proper one this time,”

jordan brushed their lips against your before kissing the air out of you. it was getting a little too hot for two people standing in a hallway and you were never one for major pda so you pulled away smiling.

“okay now you're just being a distraction,” you grinned up at them.

“okay, fine i’ll go but just to make sure, it was me who you were talking about, right?”

you chuckled playfully shoving them down the hall. “yes, you big idiot. now go and come back in 2 hours when you can really make it up to me.”

jordan smirked. “i’ll be counting down the seconds."

if you want to request something, there's a link in my bio (the more detailed the better <3)

[rocknrolldecadence]

hii can u write something about early gnr Slash, where him and fem reader have been dating for a while and the band is starting to grow in popularity and their relationship goes through some hard times, maybe something angsty but with a sweet ending. love your writing btw :)))))

˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖✮-------------------✮˖⁺‧₊˚ ˚₊‧⁺˖

come over

despite your doubts in your relationship, you can’t help but love slash.

warnings: none i think? talking about drink and drugs?

a/n: this is really short i hope that’s okay 🙁🙁

“you did so good, babe!” you congratulated slash as he gave you a hug. the band had just gotten off stage after playing at the cathouse. he was sweaty, but you didn’t care. all you wanted was to be near him again. he’d been away a lot recently: rehearsing for gigs and writing new riffs took up most of his time.

“c’mon, let’s go back to my place. i’ve missed you.” you urged your boyfriend, breaking the hug to look for the nearest exit door.

“i’m going out drinking with everyone. i already told them.” slash said apathetically. you looked up at him and your smile dropped.

“what? but you said we’d go home after this and watch a movie together.”

“i know, i know- they just really want me there, i guess. can i come round after though?”

that was code for ‘i won’t be back til 4 o’clock’. you sighed and nodded reluctantly. slash didn’t have a place right now, and was staying mostly in the recording studio the band used. most of the time you were okay to let him crash at yours, as it let you see him more, but not when he’d been out drinking with his friends. having to get out of bed to open the door for him, him causing a mess all throughout your apartment, and then he wouldn’t even thank you until the next morning. but you let him every time. cause you loved him.

that was your cue to leave. you said goodbye to him and walked down the hallway, going the same way you came in. luckily you didn’t pass any of the other band members - they were your friends too, but the thought of having to engage in conversation with any of them right now made you shudder.

you left out the main entrance and got into your car. driving home, you thought about your relationship with slash. he’d been away an awful lot recently. it was a constant cycle of writing, recording and drinking. drugs too. it was so tiring. most of the time, it was like you didn’t even have a boyfriend. you recalled the times your friends and family had asked you ‘what happened to slash?’ and having to tell them yes, you’re still dating.

you got home, thoughts still twisting and turning in your mind. in an effort to preserve your later energy, you set up the sofa for slash. you knew he’d be showing up later drunk and high out of his mind. might as well get it out the way. once you were done, you got into your pyjamas and curled up in bed. sleep caught up with you quick, and soon enough you were knocked out.

the bright sun peeking through the LA skyline woke you up the next morning. you groggily sat up and tried to gain the motivation to get out of bed. it was clear that sunrise had just ended, and the light of the sun illuminated your room perfectly. it took you a while to get up, but when you did, you made a beeline to the living room. but what you saw shocked you.

no slash. no trace of him whatsoever. had he not come here? you wracked your brain, trying to remember if he had or not. you couldn’t. oh god. had something happened? was he okay?

you practically ran to your telephone and called the number of guns n roses’ recording studio. that made the most sense to you, since that’s where he normally slept.

“hello? is slash there? can i talk to him?” you said, not even knowing who was on the other line yet.

“you are right now.”

“slash? what the fuck?! where were you last night?”

“awhhh, you care about me,” he laughed, clearly only just had woken up, “i just… didn’t wanna bother you i guess. so i went here instead.”

you sighed heavily. “you scared the shit out of me, y’know.”

“yeah, yeah.”

silence.

“can i come over?”

[tinytennisskirt]

hi i love all of your writing! i wanted to request something angsty for patrick :) i know you’re prob tired of writing this trope but something like he’s not used to having someone who cares about him but when he meets the reader, things shift. he’s madly in love but you break up with him maybe reader doesn’t think it’s going anywhere or something stupid and so his feelings are hurt so he gets super mean and disrespectful in a heated argument but you feel bad because it really just meant he truly loved reader and he doesn’t know how to cope

sorry if this is stupid lolllll

Patrick and His Pattern

patrick zweig x bestfriend turned lover!reader

summary: as requested above^ (it is NOT stupid please give me more if you see this)

warnings: mentions of physical violence (done to patrick, not him doing it, don't worry), mentions of drinking, kissing, a little smut tbh, angst, a fight, patrick being mean and a breakup

You knew Patrick wasn’t a relationship guy. When you were just friends you’d watch him get girl after girl. They were girls who would be around every now and then- they never liked you. One after the next they either got hurt by him or left because of his communication problems, his over-friendliness, and sometimes how he acted with you was enough to leave. 

They were right to leave because of you. Because it was a little obvious that Patrick liked you, he was always hanging out with you, always talking about you, always on his way to see you, or busy with you when they’d call. He’d kiss them, go on a few dates with them, fuck them, but they never lasted. 

They weren’t the good kind of girls either, the kind that also had sidepieces, the kind who were rude to old people and the homeless, girls who didn’t care all that much about how they treated anyone, but expected to be treated well by him. It made sense, opposites attract and aside from his love life, Patrick was a great guy. Your best friend. He was fun and as much as he pretended not to, he cared. 

Art swore to you the person you know him as is not the person he used to be but without anything to compare him to before meeting you, you had no idea. He was just Patrick. Patrick who would come over and watch whatever you put on the tv, showing up at your door with chips or something to drink. Patrick who would share his last cigarette with you. Patrick who could and would only make waffles for you whenever you stayed over. Who was he before? 

The thing about the women who left was that no matter how much Patrick gave off the idea that he cared, it’s that he didn’t. He was cheated on and he barely batted an eye, the truth unraveled in front of you at his place, his now-ex talking about the guy she cheated on him with and Patrick didn’t do so much as look at her. The same thing with another girl. She was leaving him because he didn’t spend enough time with her, slightly blaming you- she never cared about him, but she had to make him feel like shit when she left. And he just looked at her and told her to go. With every breakup story he had, he was okay. No big emotions. No reason to have them. They were just girls, they came and they went and they were never right. He left, they left, he left, they left, and he never cared about a single one enough to talk about her the next day.

One of them hit him hard one day during a breakup and he went straight to you, didn’t even bother to clean up where the rings on her fingers had done the most damage, he just wanted to see you. He was tired, he admitted. Tired of the cycle he was in and you brought him in, no questions asked. 

“Did she have brass knuckles on? This is bad,” you grimaced, pressing a cool, wet cloth to his face. He winced and you bit your lip. 

“Rings.” He replied, scrunching his face a little at the cloth pressed to his cheekbone. “It’s fine.” 

“It’s not fine,” you rebounded. Your opposite hand held his jaw and cheek to keep the pressure from turning his head. You smelled good, he noted to himself. And you were in your pajamas, no bra, just a tank top and loose shorts, your hair up. “Patrick, she was out of her mind to hit you over her emotions. It’s just immature. You deserve someone who genuinely cares and is gentle with you. I know you’re a guy and all that bullshit about seeming tough, but have you ever not felt the need to be tough?” 

He looked at you, met your eyes. He’d only ever felt that with you. You took care of him, you made sure he had groceries, you came over and made food, you cleaned when he didn’t feel like it, you took care of him and the price he paid was your truth and a few little arguments now and then. You were kind and beautiful and you were cleaning his wound right now. “I’m not trying to be tough. It hurts like hell, but I’m fine that she’s gone.” You mumbled something incoherent under your breath and he just half-caught it. “What was that?” 

“Nothing,” you replied, sitting back. You peeled open a little bandaid, gently putting some polysporin on it. “I’m glad you don’t need stitches.” 

“Me too,” he said, feeling something shift. “I’m sorry I came over here and woke you up.” 

You smiled a little, “I was barely asleep, it’s okay. You know you’re welcome anytime, you have a key.” 

“I just… it’s another stupid girl.” 

“I know. Hopefully your last.” You giggled, leaning forward and gently placing two bandaids across his cheekbone. Your fingers felt cool against his skin, hot from the injury. You gently smoothed down the ends, your face close to his. “That feel oka-” You barely got the words out. He kissed you there and then. 

It came as a surprise, the kiss. But the feelings had been there for a while in both of you, so you melted into it almost immediately, like a sigh of relief. All those girls had been completely right to hate you, Patrick was way too into you to really, truly be into them. His hands were strong, their placement perfect on your jaw, holding your face. He kissed you in a way that avoided his now-bandaged wound, but he held you as close as he could, pulling you onto his lap. You had nothing to protest as his tongue slipped into your mouth, the kiss suddenly deeper, more passionate. You’d have been lying if  you said you hadn’t thought about this or had been jealous of the girls you knew had kissed him. You found it hard to excuse the thought of the other girls on his lips as you kissed him, but the kiss itself was worth it. Patrick’s brain only had one focus and it was you- how would you know that this kiss was different for him? This kiss was everything to him. 

His hands slid down your neck, down over your shoulders and his hands then travelled down your waist, resting in the crook of it. It was long and it was passionate and though you were on his lap, he didn’t grab anything but your waist. Maybe your hips just a little but it was all just you. And it was just kissing. His mouth didn’t trail off anywhere, he just kissed you. He just wanted to kiss you. 

So the cycle in him came to an end in you. You were where the cycle went to die and he knew that. You started going out as something more than friends. You’d go to the diner, laugh, and he kissed you outside the building,  inside, and in the car before driving you home. He usually came in, but he didn’t that night. He went home and he thought about you like some hopeless, sick romantic. You called, he was happy about that, and you talked almost all night. 

You were over at his a lot more after that. And it was on it’s way to becoming the longest relationship out of his recent escapades that he was now leaving far behind him. In his head he kept thinking that you are it. You’re the one, you’re the girl who will genuinely be the last and he’s known you forever, so when the word love comes up in his brain, it’s you. The relationship is new, but it’s you. You’re it. 

He drank a lotttt over that. Thinking love was crazy, fucking stupid, fucking impossible to say to a girl you just started dating a month ago. Crazier to admit that it was his best friend that he loved and that you were now his and he could say that potentially… sometime. Was it even him? He didn’t think he could love anyone or even that anyone could love him. Nobody had ever treated him the way you did. You did all the things you did as his best friend but it was never truly platonic and now you did it more, you cared more, you kissed his forehead. His fucking forehead. And it was amazing and unlike anything he’d ever felt in his lifetime. Better than sex, better than any drug he’d ever taken. Though sex with you was a whole other story…

He’d only ever imagined it, but the first time it was real, about two weeks in, you had him entranced. The way you crawled over him, kissing him as you sank down onto him. Moaned when he called you pretty, called you his. His fingertips digging into your hips as you bounced on him, feeling you entirely in a way he’d never known so completely. Not only being buried deep inside of you, so warm, so fucking perfect, but feeling your closeness, your skin, your scent. Your voice in his ear enough to make him groan out obscenities and nasty little strings of words in your favour. Everything about it was so perfect and after that, both of you couldn’t get enough and it was routine for a few times a day, even. Neither of you minded, it was fucking amazing the way his fingers could move and he was pleased with how good you were overall.

But that aside, he loved being with you. More than anything. You were still his best friend, but he could kiss you on the cheek and slap your ass when you were cooking dinner, he could randomly grab you and kiss you when you were talking too much, he could and you took care of him. You slept with your head on his chest and he’d never felt his heart beat faster at such a simple act. 

You, however, as much as you loved being around him, could not get those many many girls out of your head. They haunted you. They’d showered in his shower, they’d eaten his food, lounged on his couch, held the remote, practically touched everything you had touched and that included Patrick. It was good and it was really good, but you couldn’t stop thinking about them. They’d all left for different reasons but they’d all been here. 

Patrick held you tight when you got home from work, silent. The moment before, he had told you he ordered chinese and you hugged him back, letting his arms envelope you. Every day it got harder to ignore the fact everything he did with you, he did with not just one other girl, but so many. You could enjoy the hug, you always liked those. His kiss to your neck was so casual and lack-of-sexual that it almost killed you to be haunted by so many of these past women. Feeling like all of them were watching, like ghosts in the room. You could almost see them walking around his place, touching everything, fucking on everything, his bed that you had a side on, they slept on that side too. 

Sometimes he’d come home late and your stomach would turn so much you’d sit on the edge of his bathtub expecting to be sick. You’d never felt so anxious over anything like this before with anyone you’d ever dated and you wanted Patrick more than anything, but it kept happening. You found a spare toothbrush and in your head, you hurt yourself thinking that maybe it belonged to another girl. That his habits had not gone away, that he was still doing what he always did. You began to live with a near-constant stomachache. Always. It was bad and you knew that. But you kept it to yourself, letting it eat at you, slowly kill you. 

He’d still go to bars, he’d still come home drunk to you, but you always wondered if you were imagining that he smelled different (you were). He was more than head over heels and so were you adn that was the problem. You cared so much, too much, when before, it wasn’t your place to care about that and you could live ignorant. Ignorance used to be bliss, but the knowing and the caring was torment. Patrick felt you pulling back. It was hard to ignore at a certain point when you were upset or feeling sick and wouldn’t explain it. 

“Okay, come on, it’s not nothing, it can’t be nothing. You’re pissed, tell me why?” 

“It’s nothing,” you retaliated, trying to avoid conflict so you could enjoy being in his arms still. Above all, above all the girls that were all equal devils on your shoulders, feeding horrible thoughts into your brain almost all hours of the day, was that you were afraid that he could just end things at any moment. You didn’t want to lose him. But it was a pattern that you knew well, observed up close, now were living in. His cycle didn’t seem all that gone… you couldn’t see into his head. “I promise.” 

“No, fuck that. Tell me.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Bullshit, you can’t. You can, you just won’t. I want to hear it.” He said, standing on his side of the couch, hands out, palms up. “Come on.” 

You shook your head, your nausea creeping up. You pressed a hand to your stomach, “Patrick, I don’t want to get into this right now. Can we go to bed?” You picked up the pillow you’d put on the couch for a nap earlier. 

“Go to bed?” He followed your movement with footsteps just ahead of your pace. “No. I’m not sleeping on this again. Every time I come home you’re all standoffish and you act like I’ve done something wrong and I want to know what it is.” It was wrong, but as you held the pillow, you felt like you could hear the words of every girl who had ever laid their conventionally attractive heads down on it. You dropped it to your feet and shut your eyes. “Y/N. Come on. Spit it out.” 

“Spit it out?”  

“You know what I mean. Come on. You should be able to tell me what the fuck I did wrong if I’m doing it so often. So you know, spit it out. Give it to me straight, how hard is that?” The words kept slipping out, but the truth was that Patrick was terrified. You were everything, you were it, he loved you, he just hadn’t said it yet. He hid his shaking hand the best he could with his big gestures as he spoke and he hid the tremor that threatened to crack his voice by raising it. He sounded bad. He sounded rude, he knew that, but what else could he do but fight? He was fighting to communicate for the first time in his fucking life. 

You were quiet. You pursed your lips and you looked around his apartment. And then it came, like a blow to his chest. “Patrick, I don’t think I can do this anymore.” 

His whole stature changed, softened. “Don’t think you can do what anymore?” He asked. There was no way around this now, you had to face it head on. Patrick felt cold, his entire body felt like it had been submerged in icewater and then set in a freezer. This was you, this wasn’t anyone else leaving this was you. He wanted you to stay, you had to stay, you were it. 

You shut your eyes and slowly let out your breath, “This. Us. Patrick, I’m so sorry, but I just… I can’t.” 

“Why?” He said, voice not matching how he felt. It came out firm, harsh. He felt weak. Dazed. This wasn’t real, it wasn’t happening, you were different, you were the end of his cycle. 

“You know I care about you, but I knew who you were before we were together and I tried to ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t ignore all the women you’ve been with, I can’t unsee them in every place I look, even when I look at you, all I see is them. I know it’s absurd and it’s entirely crazy, but that’s why.” You admit wholeheartedly. 

Patrick laughed, he laughed and he felt insane for it. “You don’t trust me?” He deducted. “Bullshit. That’s bullshit and you know it. You think I’m playing you? What evidence is there, I haven’t so much as looked at another woman since I kissed you.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed, “That’s not-” 

“It’s bullshit, okay? Nobody else has been here since you, you know that.” He said, voice still raised. He hated how much he wanted to yell at you, he hated yelling at you, but he wanted it in your head. “There’s no other girls. What the fuck, Y/N? We’re fine and all of a sudden you want to get up and leave? Did you think about it at all?” 

“Patrick…” 

“I don’t give a fuck. I can’t deal with this, I don’t want another excuse, I can’t. You’re leaving, you don’t think this is working? Fine, goodbye.” He said, dismissing you, walking around you to his bedroom but you stopped him. He hated dismissing you, he hated saying goodbye, he hated being angry, he hoped you would stop him and hug him and apologize or say something like a solution but no. 

“Stop, you don’t get to be like that,” you said, folding your arms. “It’s your pattern, Patrick. I knew who you were before we were dating and I can’t convince myself that things will be different with me. I love being your friend, I care about you so fucking much, but I can’t be with you if I’m constantly sick about when you come home or what girls on the street I have to compare myself with or worry about if I’ll run into one of your exes at the store… it is driving me insane. I can’t be with you if I’m constantly afraid I’m going to end up hurt.” You said. “It’s not that I don’t trust you. I just can’t stop thinking about the pattern.” 

He looked at you as if you shoved a dagger through his chest. Through his heart. 

“I want to believe you’ve changed. I really wholeheartedly do, but I am so scared Patrick. I’m scared that every little thing I do will remind you of them and you won’t ever be free from them and that means I won’t either.” 

His chest hurt. The dagger felt physical. Like you had wedged it into his heart. He had never felt like this about any of them and that was for sure. The same sureness that had guided him to being with you. You were so different, he would never cheat, he would hardly lie unless necessary, he was yours entirely. He had changed, but the circumstances of his past lifestyle was because he was so in love with you, the girls came and went and they were never right because it was always you. And now in having so many women to bury his thoughts of you, they were coming back to bite him and they weren’t even around. The coldness in his body turned to heat as the anger rose in his chest. He fucked this up for himself. It was his own fault. 

“You don’t want me, that’s fine. Go fuck a virgin or something, see if I care.” He replied. Your expression went flat and cold, sentiment gone from your eyes. He was so frustrated with this he was saying things he didn’t mean. Things that slipped out of pure anger toward himself for not being able to change things. “It’s not like I saw this going anywhere anyways. You’re obsessed with girls you hardly knew.”

You pressed your lips together. “That’s fucking mean, Patrick.” Your eyes began to well up with tears. 

“Yeah, imagine being on my end of things. A pattern, give me a fucking break, I broke that pattern for you. I don’t need your crocodile tears right now. You want to leave so fucking badly, I want you out.” He said. Cold. His face felt hot. He felt like yelling as loud as he could, he felt like crying, his hands were still shaking. He just stared at you, his heart breaking in his chest at his own words. Things he didn’t mean, defensive, awful things he wouldn’t have ever dreamed of having the capacity to say to you. You took care of him, you treated him so well, you opened up about your feelings and you were met with this monster he became out of his own insecurity. He knew the problem was himself, he knew he was an asshole. A jerk. A complete dick. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll go,” you said, trying so hard not to cry. It broke his heart more, he wanted to hold you, apologize, kiss your face a hundred times over until you forgave him, but he couldn’t. What he just said was vile and unforgettable. He couldn’t forgive himself for that. Your arms dropped to your sides and you grabbed your sweater and your keys and you were doing all you could, your face burning trying to hold in the tears. You looked at him where he stood and you were thinking to yourself, had he ever given this much of a fuck over a breakup? 

You’d never seen him bat an eye, he always recovered in seconds. They could say horrible, vulgar things to him and he was fine. He stayed unphased even in the worst of times. He just told them to grab their shit and go at most. He never had so much to say. And part of you felt bad. That this is the time he fought. The first time he had ever fought with a girl who was leaving. It made a difference, it almost made you stay and ask why. Why did he fight? Why was he so fucking mean? He hadn’t been mean to any girl who had ever walked out that door for a final time. 

You knew why. You knew you were different. As much as you hated knowing it, it didn’t change the fact that there were so many women before you that haunted you. It was a you problem you didn’t know how to fix and you had broken his heart. You tried so hard not to cry, knowing what you knew. He genuinely cared this time. He didn’t want you to go, he was mean out of insecurity and instability. 

You bit your lip to keep from sobbing, looking at him one last time before leaving, shutting the door behind you. He wanted to rush and open that door, catch you before you left and fix things, but you were leaving regardless of what he said. What use would it have been? It killed him hearing you let out a sob in the hallway, thinking he couldn’t hear. It pierced through his chest backwards and forwards, twisting the knife, even. He couldn’t help the rush of heat that came from behind his eyes. Patrick Zweig, a grown man, sat on his couch in his now-empty apartment and he cried. Not just out of sadness, but out of frustration. You were it, you were supposed to be the end of this cycle, you were going to be the one that stayed. Just earlier this morning he’d kissed your temple to wake you up, he’d made you eggs before work and he kissed you, arms around your waist before you headed out. You’d smiled at him and he didn’t have a clue in the world that you’d be leaving. And he had no idea he would end it, burn it all down the way he did. 

You were supposed to be different. And in the end you were. He fought, even if it wasn’t conventional, for you. It frustrated him beyond all means, he couldn’t change anything, he couldn’t change how you felt. He couldn’t change the fact his bed was empty the next morning. It was empty and it was cold and he had slept with one of your cardigans, not letting it go the entire night. He hoped you’d called. He hoped you wanted to fix things, but you never did and you wouldn’t. Not after what he said. He could regret and regret and regret all he wanted. But you weren’t coming back. You weren’t even his best friend anymore. He didn’t see you at all, you blocked him on facebook. For the first time in his life as some sort of player, his heart was broken beyond any means of repair. No amount of copious drinking or weed could ever erase the fact he didn’t have you and wouldn’t… ever again. 

You heard about how bad he was without you from some mutual friends. Heard he wasn’t doing well, that all he talked about was you. You were all he drank about. Part of you knew you couldn’t stay angry with him for what he said or how he acted, you knew him so well. You knew you couldn’t go back no matter how much you loved him or missed him, because for the first time in his life, he reacted to being left. He was finally feeling something. There was something so fucking bittersweet about that, almost poetic. He thought he broke his pattern in one way, but really he broke it in another. So you had to let it be. 

taglist: @kaaaiiaaa @swetearss @ellzbellz18 @reallycreativeusername @lalalandofive @xoxog0ssipg1rl

[chirrups]

OH SHIT VERY PRETTY GOG ART IN THE YEAR 2025!! AND ITS X HERMITCRAFT.. HELL YEAH

Love the species picks!!! I saw the second recent post first and I guess didn't properly read the description, but DID see the talon braces on Scar and went "Now hold on...." loe and behold, Hagsfiend Xisuma! I would perhaps suggest a slightly natch'd(? hagsfiend'd?) Hypno to give him the natched'ga (bad spelling; haven't read the books in years, but I mean the yellow-eyed hypnotizing magic that the Hagsfiends used in the Legends series). Also Joe has starsight. To me. Grian too but while Grian ignores it entirely, Joe gets weird about it.

YEAR OF OUR LORD 2025 AND HERMITS OF GAHOOLE IS BACK!

DASJHSJDHA THANK YOU! I just love researching to pick animal species to assign to minecraft youtubers, they should really give me a degree in it.

(au rambling + doodles beneath, you have been warned)

Nachtmagen!Hypno is such a powerful idea. Though honestly, I kind of want to keep magic shenanigans just to Xisuma due to admin + hagsfiend morality lore.

Instead of fryngot (the yellow-eye power), I would bend it a little to give Hypno some kind of fleck-power in a similar vein to Mist/Hortense in the books. Perhaps he was hatched in an area with a high density of flecks and it gave him a similar minor paralysis ability to a hagsfiend’s fryngot. Not enough to yeep another owl but enough to make them very uncomfortable (or he could just be like that, who knows).

But, Hypno being literally divined to have classically dark magic Nyra-style but just kinda being a guy is also hysterically funny to me.

Let’s compromise. Ambiguously-and-suspiciously-nachtmagen!Hypno who might have hagsfiend magic powers but also just might not. He’s awfully dark-feathered and ragged for a Tyto. No one knows. No one is even certain if Hypno knows.

On the Joe Hills point, YES! He does have starsight, how on earth did you read my personal notes for this au??? /lh.

And I’m completely with you, he is definitely soooo weird about it. He gives out prophecies but starsight doesn’t actually have words with the visions so I imagine it’s literally just him writing poems about his dreams and then reporting it to other Hermits like it's real-life fact.

He has something like a 50/50 accuracy rate and doesn’t actually make too much effort to take it seriously to begin with. World’s least reliable prophet except when he’s right which is sometimes.

Grian might actually have firesight to me (instead of starsight to match his colliering job) but I could also read it as him being just super paranoid and liking staring at flames a bit too much.

In this AU, he is very moon-adverse, and if we wanted to be angsty about it, I could imagine him not taking the idea that he has any celestial body-related power well at all (even if starsight is only related to stars in name alone).

In either situation, you’re right. He is ignoring everything, the future cannot reach him if he closes his eyes to it.

(I also just might just leave Grian's maybe precognition powers ambiguous because lore-wise because I don't want to stack his plate as op's special-est little guy too much.)

[staticscreenwriting]

I took the good times, I'll take the bad times II Joel Miller

Summary: Joel doesn't think he's deserving of love after all he did and all he went trough. Or maybe he's just scared. Either way he can't let himself fall for (Y/N). Now if only she'd stop sending him those damn postcards.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (I always try not to describe the reader physically, if I missed something please let me know so I can change it and make this "applicable" to every reader. Thank you!)

A/N: This is my entry for the dear-uary challenge by @jolapeno . My prompt was "Character A keeps finding X and traces them back to Character B, who might be leaving them intentionally—or not." And I chose Postcards as my form of epistolary.

TW: This is mostly angsty fluff. There is some talk of self doubt and loss of a child but I think that should be it.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.

It all starts with a simple postcard tucked into the side pocket of his bag. Joel almost doesn’t realize it’s there, folded twice into a tiny square. It’s only when he’s looking for the list Maria gave him of all the things to look for on this run, that he grabs a hold of the card. 

His gloves make it hard to unfold the small paper but it’s way too cold to take them off. Joel was never big on winter and snow, even before everything went to shit. He doesn’t like the way it lingers, the way it consumes you from the inside out. Now, an unforgiving cold is all he feels as a thick blanket of snow has settled upon Wyoming. 

Bold bright letters scream out to him from the wrinkled paper “ Greetings from Tampa Florida. Wish you were here!”.

It’s one of those campy vintage ones where the letters are filled with drawings of landmarks and beaches. He remembers sending one just like this to his High School girlfriend when Dad took him and Tommy on a trip to Nashville when Joel was 16 maybe 17. It was a good trip, the last one they ever took together. Sometimes Joel wonders how his dad would deal with all of this. This new reality. This fucked up world. He always seemed so strong, so fearless. That man was unstoppable force and immovable object all at once. Every vulnerability Joel finds in himself, he’s sure was absent in his father. Maybe if he was a little more like his own dad he could’ve saved Sarah, could’ve spared Ellie the pain of living in this limbo of knowing and not knowing. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Joel moves closer to the fire, his only light source other than the stars. There’s writing on the back, blue ink on off-white paper. It’s not a handwriting he knows and for a second he wonders if the card has been there ever since he found the bag years ago, back in Boston. But he would know that, right? Would've found it by now. This must be new. This must be meant for him.

“ I know you hate the cold. I know it makes you sad and gloomy, well gloomier than usual. So let me tell you about the hottest day I ever experienced. I was a kid, maybe 7 or 8 and my mom took me to Florida. Not Tampa (it was the only postcard I could find at the library), but Orlando. We went to fucking Disney World!! We didn’t have a lot of money back then so mom must’ve saved a long time for this. Anyway, Joel, it was so hot. Unbearably hot. My clothes stuck to my skin and my hair got all frizzy. Maybe July wasn’t the best time to go. The air was so thick and heavy, so moist (ew). It felt like breathing in honey, syrup maybe. I still had the best time. I know it doesn’t take away the cold but I hope I can take you away to that hot and humid Florida summer for one small moment. If not, there’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag. Made it myself. You never told me what your favorite color is. I hope you like blue. xx 

P.S.: I wonder what happened to Disney World.” 

A chuckle falls from Joel’s lips and forms a cloud against the sharp winter air. He's never been to Disney World. The Millers just weren’t a Disney World kind of family. They were more of a local fair kind of family. All corn dogs and funnel cakes and first kisses behind the bumper cars. Sarah would’ve loved Disney World though. Ellie too. Ellie who doesn’t even know what the hell Disney is. 14 years and the girl has no idea who Mickey Mouse is. What a surreal thought. What a strange world. More than 20 years and it still feels strange. Joel wonders if life will ever let him settle in this new reality. If one day this feels like home and not a bad dream. Not a cosmic punishment. A bad joke that no one’s laughing at anymore.

His eyes travel back towards the blue swirly writing. It’s not Ellie’s bad chicken scratch, he could pick that out of a line-up any day. This looks much neater, more deliberate, and thoughtful. 

“There’s a wool scarf at the bottom of your bag.”

Quiet, as not to wake up the others sleeping just a few steps away, Joel opens the zipper on his bag and rummages through it with a gloved hand. There’s a bunch of stuff in there, food rations, ammunition, a second pair of gloves. Going on supply runs is not something Joel enjoys but it is a way for him to give back. To Tommy and Maria and the entire community. Jackson and its people have taken him and Ellie in as one of their own without much hesitation. They provided them with food, with shelter, with trust. He has so little to give in return. Going on a supply run to look for medicine and other necessities, that’s the least he can do. 

Something soft and squishy meets his hand and he pulls out a dark blue woolen scarf. There are so many holes and even in the dim light of the campfire, Joel can tell those holes are not there on purpose. Maybe it was Ellie after all, but then she never showed any interest in knitting, and the idea of her doing just that is far too ridiculous. No matter how imperfect it is though, Joel has to admit the scarf does make him feel warmer as he wraps it around his neck. 

“Hey,” Adam, one of the other guys on the run, speaks up from beside Joel, “you can catch some sleep if you want. I can take over the watch.” 

It’s a strange thing, how sometimes you don’t notice just how tired you are or how hungry you are until someone points it out to you. Until they offer to take it from you. Then it hits you like a brick to the face. A wave pulling you under. 

Joel feels his eyelids grow heavy and nods at the younger man. "Thanks". 

This mystery, it can wait until tomorrow. Until then he will bury his face in the warm soft wool of the scarf and think of that Florida sun. And though it most definitely is just his imagination, Joel could almost swear the night feels a little less cold.

His boots leave deep imprints in the white icy blanket as he makes his way past the Tipsy Bison and the community hall further towards his house. His home. 

No place has really felt like home in years. Not since all of this started. Everything was temporary. 4 walls and a roof. He wonders if this place will ever start feeling like home? Will he ever get to a point where he doesn’t wait for the second shoe to drop? It all feels like he’s Charlie Brown and life is Lucy pulling the football away at the last second. And it always ends with him falling. He’s so tired of falling. So tired of getting back up.

Joel almost expects the house to be silent as he steps inside. Ellie is slowly making friends with the other teens living in the settlement and is spending more time at their houses than she is at home. He can’t blame her. If he was more like his father he’d find it in himself to start conversations with people, get to know them, forge connections, make friends. Of the Miller boys, Tommy is the one who inherited their dad’s social gene though, Joel only got the snarl and the crippling inability to talk about his feelings.

Laughter echoes through the house as Joel rounds the corner connecting the entryway to the living room. Ellie’s laughter, loud and bright and light. As if for a moment all the horrors and the pain and the trauma have been taken from her.

When he steps into the kitchen, Joel understands. 

(Y/N) is standing by the counter, a smile on her face so soft and radiant it might just rival the sun. That joy she brings out in Ellie, it’s familiar to Joel because he feels it too whenever (Y/N) is around. Not always but sometimes. It’s a spark of warmth that starts in his chest and crawls up his spine. It settles in his lungs, his heart, his brain. Like a parasite. Like a virus. Like a wonderful dream. He doesn’t allow himself to feel it all the time but sometimes, sometimes he can’t deny himself this little bit of warmth.

Joel can’t even remember when exactly (Y/N) became a part of their life. It’s like one day she was there and refused to leave. And really that’s kind of how it went. She works at the library and the school, lives across the street from him and Ellie and for some reason, she’s taken pity on them. Joel isn’t sure if it's him or Ellie she pities. Maybe a mix of both. Either way, she brought over some soup one day and that’s the beginning and end of it all. She’s wormed her way into Ellie’s heart and by extension his too. Whether he likes to admit it or not. Doesn't hurt that she's so damn beautiful too.

“Joel, you’re back!” 

Ellie pulls him in a tight hug. It’s something Joel still has to get used to. Ellie isn’t a particularly affectionate person. She’s definitely not a hugger. And neither is Joel — not anymore at least. So when they do hug, it’s still a little strange. Not bad strange just unfamiliar. 

“Yeah, I’m back. 

“How did it go?” (Y/N) asks and meets his eyes over Ellie’s head. A silent conversation happening between her and Joel. It’s that thing she does where she doesn’t need to say a single word but Joel can tell exactly what she’s thinking just by the look in her eyes. He sometimes wonders if this is a them thing. 

“Did someone die” her eyes are saying. “Did someone get hurt?” 

“Did you get hurt?” 

He quickly shakes his head answering her unspoken questions. Not this time. 

“Good. It went good.” 

Maybe the relieved sigh he sees her let out is just his imagination. But Joel doesn’t think so. Joel thinks it's very real.

“Did you bring us something? “ 

He can’t help but smile at that. It feels good to smile. In a world that gives you grief and sorrow, you start to count the moments when it gives you a reason to smile. They are few and far between but the number has surely increased since Ellie stepped into his life — and since (Y/N) did. 

“I brought food and medicine. Isn’t that enough? “

A determined “no” falls from both their lips in a chaotic harmony. 

“Geez, you guys are demanding.” 

“Well — did you bring us something?” 

Joel just rolls his eyes and rummages through his bag for the goods. 

“For you— “ he says and throws the old wrinkled comic book towards Ellie who regards it with that endless sense of wonder she does possess. It’s the kind of spark that flickers and dies once you grow old. Or maybe just his did. Maybe grief leaves no room for wonder. 

Placing his bag on the ground, Joel moves into the kitchen and holds out his loot to (Y/N). Green background. White goats. Yellow bubble letters.

“Oooooh, you did get me something. Pet Sounds, nice!” 

There’s a spark in her too. Dulled and dusted from time but it is there and it flickers and grows every time Joel brings her a vinyl record from his trips outside of the settlement. In a world with so little joy, music seems to be one of the few things that hasn’t changed. In the face of immeasurable pain, humans turn to music. They have done so for a long time and judging by the world as is, they always will. 

“I hope it works still. Didn’t really have a record player to try it out.” 

“I’ll try it out as soon as I get to the library. Feel free to come by and listen with me.” 

“Sure.” 

“Thank you, Joel. I hope you didn’t have to do anything stupid to get this.” 

He didn’t. Not this time. He would’ve though. It scares him how willing he is to put himself in danger just to get her something that will put that radiant smile on her face. He’d walk to the end of the earth if he knew there was a record there she wanted. That thought scares the shit out of him. It’s bad enough he cares so deeply about Ellie, about Tommy. The more people you care about, the more you open yourself up to hurt. Losing either of them would tear him apart. Joel is not sure he can handle opening his heart to yet another person no matter how much his heart wants just that. 

“ Nah. No issues.” 

“Good.” 

She just looks at him for a moment. All soft eyes and gentle smile. There must be something she sees in him, Joel thinks, something he doesn’t see. A version of himself that he isn’t, that he will never be. A version he once was, maybe. A version he so desperately wishes he could be. For her.

“Well,” (Y/N) says and snaps him out of her enchantment “Ellie and I made some stew. I know you must’ve been freezing outside, some good warm stew might help warm you up a little.” 

“It smells great.” 

“You have impeccable timing because we just got done. So, dig in. And uh — I guess I’ll see you guys at the movie screening?” 

He doesn’t want her to leave. The devil and the angel on his shoulders are both screaming at him to ask her to stay. And if he was any stronger a man, any more like his own father and more deserving of good things, he would ask her. To stay for dinner. To stay forever.

But he isn’t. And he doesn’t ask. Just watches as she wraps a scarf around her neck and slips into the thick jacket that's a few sizes too big on her.

“I left the recipe by the fridge. Just in case you ever want to cook it yourself.” 

“Thanks.” 

And he really is grateful. For her. For everything.

“Oh Joel,” she says and stops in the doorway. “I like that scarf. Blue looks really good on you.” 

And then she’s gone, swallowed by the cold winter air. 

Joel hasn’t thought about his favorite color in forever. It’s something you stop thinking about once you start growing hair on your chest and fantasizing about girls in a way you haven’t before. Kids talk about their favorite colors all the time. Sarah did. It’s just once you grow old you lose that sense of self, define yourself through different things. 

Looking at the scarf now, all holes and imperfections, there is no doubt in his mind that his favorite color is blue. 

“Have you ever been to Paris?” 

The lights are dimmed in the big community hall, the movie playing on screen providing the only source of light as the people of Jackson have gathered for another movie night. 

A glimpse into a world that was but no longer is and never will be again. And for some of them, like Ellie, a world that never was to begin with.

Ellie is sitting in the front with some of the other teens, her friends, Joel supposes. She has friends now.

“Joel, have you?” 

A soft hand rests on his arm, shaking him from his gloomy thoughts. (Y/N) sits next to him, eyes focused on the pictures dancing across the screen. Ilsa and Rick, falling in love over and over again in Paris. The beginning of a love story doomed from the start. 

“I uh — no. Never.” 

“Me neither. I would’ve loved to go though. It looks beautiful.” 

He doesn’t know why or how it happens but the words just flow from his mouth like a waterfall. For the first time in a while, he finds himself wanting to talk more. About the past. About Sarah.

“My daughter, Sarah, went to Paris once. Some school exchange program. They don’t usually do it until later but her French class was above average and I guess they won some contest. I don’t know it was a long time ago.” 

“Sounds like she was a smart cookie.” 

"Oh, she was. Too smart for me, that’s for sure. Was hard letting her leave and fly to a whole different continent though. I was scared out of my mind until she was back home. Drove Tommy crazy for a whole damn week.” 

(Y/N) turns her face away from the screen and regards him with that infinite sense of something more. Soft and endearing. If he was a different man he would call it love. He would see the way she looks at him and he would kiss her stupid and life would be all sweet dreams and gentle touches. 

But he is the man he is. Not worthy of whatever she is willing to give.

“What’re looking at me like that for?” 

“It’s just sweet how much you care. About everyone. I think you don’t even know you’re doing it half the time.” 

“Do what?” 

“Care for others. For Ellie and me and all of us. You’re a good man, Joel Miller. I just wish you’d let someone take care of you for a change.” 

He doesn’t need to be taken care of. He can do it all on his own. And anyway, he is not as good of a man as she thinks he is. Good men don’t have the blood of their loved ones stuck to their hands. Good men don’t let their daughters die in their arms. Good men don’t kill. Good men don’t do all the things he did. 

Joel doesn’t want to be a good man. He just wishes he was good enough a man to allow himself to be with (Y/N).

“I ain’t a good man. And I don’t need someone to take care of me.” 

“You wore that scarf, did you not? You allowed me to take care of you then.” 

That damn scarf. He had a hunch it was her. The handwriting on the postcard matched the one of the recipe stuck to his fridge an awful lot. But it’s something else entirely to hear her say it outright. 

“That was you, huh? Had an awful lot of holes that thing.” 

“Hey, I never said I was good at knitting. You wore it anyway.”

Joel turns back towards the screen as Rick and Ilsa share a loving kiss. 

“Yeah, I wore it anyway.” 

And to the sound of bombs and tanks, (Y/N) rests her head on his shoulder.

That’s what you do for the people you love. Even if you don’t allow yourself to love them.

You wear the scarf anyway.

The mailbox flag is up. Bright red against the sharp white of the winter's day. 

It’s never been up. People around here don’t get mail. It’s but an ancient relic of a life they used to live. Remnants of a society long gone. 

But Joel is nothing if not curious. So he stomps up to the mailbox, leaving deep imprints in the freshly fallen snow. 

It’s another postcard. Only this time it doesn’t come with a mystery. This time it comes with that silly little feeling that makes his heart beat just a little faster. That makes his head swirl with stupid thoughts of stupid dreams.

“From Paris with love,” it says on the front. Fucking Paris, of course.

Sometimes the way he feels about her is infuriating, confusing, scary.

And sometimes, like right now, it feels like a ball of warmth settles in his ribcage and warms him from the inside out.

“Dear Joel,

We’ll never have Paris. Not in this life at least. And while I would’ve loved to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle with you and make you eat a croissant (which you would’ve pretended to hate but I think you would’ve enjoyed it secretly), I am glad to get this life with you at least. Or alongside you. Whatever it is we are, I am glad this life gave me that in between all the pain. Despite what you like to tell yourself, Joel Miller, you are a spark of fire, a light in the dark. You are more than the sum of your failures, you are more than your pain. All the good that is in you, that counts. That’s all that matters in the end. And there is so much good in you.

I wish you’d let yourself see it. 

We will never have Paris. But we’ll always have Jackson and that is enough for me. I hope it’s enough for you.

Here’s looking at you kid! ;) “

There’s a tragedy in knowing someone else sees all your good parts and none of the bad. A tragedy in knowing how much they like those good parts and being awfully aware that seeing all the bad parts would destroy them. 

A tragedy in still wanting to show them all of you, even the ugly soul-destroying parts.

But if she thinks he’s a good man, then Joel needs to be just that. A good man who keeps those ugly parts hidden and away from her. Even if that means denying himself the one thing he wants. 

“What’s that?” Ellie speaks up from beside him, a curious look on her face.

“Postcard.” 

“Like what people would send from vacations and stuff?”

“Yeah, how do you know about that?” 

She rolls his eyes at him and it’s one of those moments where he feels like a dad again. Those little moments that mean the world to him because he gets to feel like the old him. The Joel he thought was long dead and buried beside the bones of his own child.

“I watch movies? I talk to people? I read books? Take your pick.” 

“Wow, when did you become such a smartass, huh?” 

She shrugs his shoulders at him “Was born that way. Nothing I can do about it.” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Hey, you’ve grown to love me! You wouldn’t want me any other way.” 

And she isn’t wrong. Ellie, with all her curiosity and her bravery and her lust for life, whatever that life may look like, is exactly what he needed. Which makes him wonder if saving her from the fireflies was ultimately more of a selfish act than that of a heroic savior. 

“Who’s it from?” 

“None of your business.” 

“Oh, so (Y/N).” 

His eyes flick up and he is met with that satisfied, mischievous grin that is so uniquely Ellie.

“What makes you think that?” 

“You always change the subject when I bring her up. And that way you just jumped when I mentioned her? Yeah, you’re not slick, old man.” 

“Hey! Who are you calling an old man?” 

“You! Old and scared!” 

“I’m not scared!” 

Like hell he is. Terrified even. But there ain’t no way in hell he’ll admit that to Ellie. She’ll never let him hear the end of it. 

“Then go talk to her! She likes you, you like her. Why do you have to make it so complicated?” 

If only she knew all the ghosts swirling around inside of him threatening to break free. Things could be so easy. Only nothing ever is.

“Mind your own business, kid! Anyway, don't you have someplace to be? Think Dina came by earlier asking for you. You two are getting along well, huh?” 

“Aaaand on that note. See you for dinner, old man!” 

She’s gone before he can even hurl a reply at her. It pulls his lips into a smile. There’s no better way to get a teen to shut up than to bring up their crush. Nice to see that some things never change.

Another run. Another record. 

Joel feels silly, standing here in front of her door with his heart beating fast and heavy as he clutches the vinyl record in his hand. 

If Ellie saw him now, she’d surely make fun of him. Tommy too. Sarah even. 

What happened, Joel? You used to be so brave. What makes you so afraid now? 

Life, he thinks. Life has made him scared and bitter and sad. 

“Did you wanna knock or — ?” 

Joel turns around as the voice calls out to him. There it is again, that softness, that smile. 

“Uh, yes.” 

“Okay, good. Did you come to see me? Sorry, I was helping Maria at the farm.” 

“Yeah no uh — don’t worry about it. I just came to drop this off” 

Her eyes grow wide as she catches sight of which record it is he’s holding up. 

“No way! The stranger! You found it.” 

“ I did.” 

He had to clear an old dilapidated bar full of clickers to get that record. Almost lost his damn arm in the process. But her smile, that god-damn, life-ruining, world-shattering, heart-beat-faster, smile of hers makes it all worth it. He would give both arms, all of him. He would give it all to see her smile.

“Do you wanna come in and listen to it with me? Got my player fixed so I don’t have to use the one at the library anymore.” 

Say no. Just say no and go home. Be a good man! Be a better man! 

But he’s not. For this one moment, he can’t be that man. He’s just as weak as the rest of them. 

“Sure.” 

This feels so — normal. So before everything. Different and twisted and warped. But normal.

It’s scary and comforting all at once. Like a tipsy dream when you know you’ll wake up with a headache for sure.

(Y/N) is twirling around her living room, a beer in hand and a smile on her face. Joel leans against the door connecting her living room and her kitchen and all he can do is stare. At this woman who means so much to him. Too much for him to ever put into words. If he even knew how to. He’s never been a poet. 

“I said I love you, that's forever

And this I promise from the heart, mmm

I couldn't love you any better

I love you just the way you are, right”

“I love this song. Can you imagine someone loving you enough to write something like this about you?” 

Yes, he thinks. If only he WAS a poet. He would write a hundred songs. A thousand. And all of them would talk of her smile and her eyes and the way there is no single thing about her he would change. 

But words fail him. They always do. 

So he just nods.

“Joel,” she says and moves closer. The bottle of beer now placed on her couch table, her hands find his chest. So warm. So soft. And all he does is stare. 

“I know you got my postcards. I know you know how I feel. And sometimes I think you feel the same. I see the way you look at me. I know the dangers you put yourself in to get me those records. I just — you never say anything. So am I making a fool of myself here? Please tell me if I — “ 

“You’re not.” 

Wow, so eloquent. 

“I’m not?” 

Her voice sounds so small. So unsure. He hates that he’s the one who put the uncertainty there. Be a better man, Joel! Be a good man for once! 

But all he does is stare. Words fail him. Again. again. again.

“Then can I — can I do this?” 

(Y/N)’s gaze falls to his lips then back up to his eyes. She is so close. He can feel her warm breath on his skin. Can smell the scent of her shampoo. Notices the tremble of her fingers as her hands rest on his chest.

And he wants to kiss her. Every version of him that ever was and ever will be wants to kiss her. But all he does is stare.

All he does is stare and pull away.

And it breaks his heart to see hers break in that moment. 

“I uh — oh I’m sorry Joel.”

Tears gather in her eyes, fill them with sorrow, fill his heart with rage. He can’t do anything right, can he? Everyone he’s ever loved, he’s disappointed. But how can he let himself love her, how can he let her love him, when he is so broken? When all he does is break things?  Taint them with this infinite sadness that lives and grows inside his bones? 

“It’s not you.” 

“Oh please, Joel. I made a fool of myself already. Don’t make it worse.” 

“I ain’t trying to. It just ain’t you. It’s all me. It’s always been me”

His palms are sweaty and he feels like someone has reached into his ribcage, cracked every rib on the way to his heart, and ripped it out with bare hands. Snapping veins and arteries and all.

“I want you. I want this but I can’t have it. You think I’m a good man but the truth is, I am not. I do bad things all the time, over and over again and time and life have made me so numb to it. But you, you are so good. You deserve someone better. Someone whole.”

It’s like once he’s started it all comes flowing out like a fucking waterfall. All his fears and insecurities and pain. It’s all there for her to be disgusted by. Because god knows there is no way she won’t be. He is. All the time.

“I have not been the same since this all started. Since Sarah — since she died. I live with this immense grief. It surrounds me. It IS me. All of me. And I so desperately want to claw my way out of it. Rip it apart and leave it behind. But at the same time, I want to bury myself in it. Because what if I do leave it behind and I start to forget? Her and all that she was? How is it fair that I have to remember her far longer than I got to know her? So if I get better, if I become the man I need to be to be worthy of your love, am I still gonna be the man she knew? Can I still remember? Because that is all I have. And that is not a burden I can put on you. Not you and not Ellie.”

Joel takes a breath then another but it does little to calm him down.

“You two mean everything to me and I am sorry I am bad at showing it. That I can’t say it. I need you to know, it’s all me that’s the problem. It was never you. I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t wait for her to say anything. He doesn’t think he has the heart to hear a reply anyway. It’s like he just ripped himself open and spilled all his guts, his heart, his lungs, and all his inside out on her living room floor. 

If he was any better of a man he’d pick them up and try to rearrange them.

But he is not a good man. Maybe he never was.

“There was something for you in the mailbox” Ellie exclaims and slumps down on the couch next to him. “I was this close to opening it but I didn’t want to make you even more grumpy than you already are.” 

“I’m not grumpy” 

He has to admit, the tone in which he said those words does not do much to counter her point. Ellie knows too, judging by the way she raises her eyebrow “Sure, you’re not.” 

She drops a sunflower yellow envelope on his lap. ‘Joel’, it says in that swirly handwriting he’s become so familiar with.

It’s been a few weeks since he’s seen (Y/N). Since he spilled all his sorrows and worries to her and then ran. And, surprisingly, Jackson makes it very easy for someone to avoid another person if you only try hard enough.

Maybe Ellie has a point, maybe he has been exceptionally grumpy lately. No correlation to any recent events though. Absolutely zero.

“Sooo are you gonna open it?”

Ellie looks at him with curiosity and that little spark of mischief as if she knows something he doesn’t. 

“Not with you watching over my shoulder, I ain’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Cause it’s none of your business.” 

“Excuse me? I have to live with your grumpy ass because you guys can’t get your shit straight. I think it very much is my business.” 

“Jesus, Ellie. Language!" 

“Sorry,” she says and gives him that pseudo-sheepish look he’s grown familiar with. “You guys need to get your stuff straight.” 

He used to scold her for it but really, he isn’t one to talk. 

“Anywayyyyy, I’ll go stay at Dina’s tonight … just in case you decide to go over and apologize for whatever it is you did and you guys finally sort it out and need some privacy later.” 

“Why do you think I did something?” 

And there it is again that sassy eyebrow raise. The same one he’s seen on Sarah so many times before. It truly is a woman’s world and he’s but a fool living in it. And they let no opportunity pass to remind him of just that.

They are also absolutely right.

“My lawyer advised me not to answer that question. Anyway, be nice. Have fun. Byyyye” 

Her voice trails off as she grabs her bag and rushes outside leaving Joel alone in this big empty house with nothing but his demons and this mysterious envelope.

Carefully he opens the seal and shakes out the contents. A postcard, a photo, and a — cassette tape? 

His eyes find the photo first. It’s a polaroid of him and Ellie and (Y/N). All 3 of them smiling, yes even him. He remembers that day back last summer. It was one of those warm but not yet hot days. (Y/N) was wearing that agonizingly beautiful red sundress. The one that made his heart beat twice as fast. She brought over a whole basket full of cherries from the tree in her garden. A pie too. And that damn Polaroid camera. 

Of course, Ellie was enamored by it, wasted almost the whole damn film. 

“Come on Joel, let's take a picture together,” she had called out to him and pulled him to sit down next to her and (Y/N) on the blanket they had placed on the lawn. 

“I’m not a picture guy,” he had grumbled, “ ain’t nobody want to see my old mug.” 

“Oh shut up. Joel, you are so handsome, don’t even pretend like you don’t know that.” 

It was the first time (Y/N) had ever called him handsome. It was hard for him to believe it then, hell it still is. But she has done it a lot more since then. Calls him handsome and gorgeous and pretty all the time. At first, he thought she was just humoring him but slowly but surely it dawned on him that she meant it. Means it still.

“We don’t know how many good sunny days we have left. Ain’t no shame in trying to remember this one, right?” 

Her eyes held so much honesty then. Vulnerability too. And gratefulness for all they had then after all they had lost. It made him smile then and it makes him smile now.

The Postcard is next, big bold letters spell out TEXAS and in the corner, there’s a drawing of the Texas State Capitol in Austin.

When he turns the Postcard over, there it is again, that swirly writing he’s grown to love so much. 

“Joel, the ‘Postcards from around the world’ book I got from the library didn’t have an Austin one but it did have a Texas one so that’ll have to do. I’m not even sure if you're going to read this. I hope you do because you didn't give me a chance to say my part when you stormed off & I think I deserve that.

You're not the man you were in Austin, you lived through the worst thing imaginable and it changed you. But you are not just your pain. It is part of you but it doesn't define you. I know you see all the bad but none of the good but believe me I see it! Ellie does! You are your pain but you are also the smile on Ellie's face when you bring her a new comic or teach her a song. You're the guitar chords echoing through the air on a warm spring afternoon. You are those fluttery feelings in my heart whenever you look at me.

Joel Miller, I understand if you don't want to be with me but if it's only because you don't think you're good enough then I think that's a choice I get to make. Taking that from me is a dick move. 

You said you're bad at showing love but you're not. You showed me through all those records. Through all those songs. Now let me love you back.”

Joel can’t quite name the feeling spreading through him. It’s both foreign and familiar at the same time. Like an old friend. A hazy memory. Pictures blurred and dulled by time and age. 

Maybe he was wrong, and he hates admitting that. Maybe he ain’t a good man but maybe that is hers to decide. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

He takes the cassette tape in his hand and squints his eyes at the tiny writing on the label. God, he really is getting old. Those eyes ain’t what they used to be.

God only knows - The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds

You’re my best friend - Queen - A Night at the Opera

Just Like Heaven - The Cure - Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (you should!) 

In Your Eyes - Peter Gabriel - So

Time After Time - Cyndi Lauper - She’s so unusual

Your Song - Elton John - Elton John

Can’t Help Falling in Love - Elvis - Blue Hawaii

Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton - Slowhand

The Book of Love - The Magnetic Fields - 69 Love Songs (!!!! LOVE SONGS!!!)

Just The Way You Are - Billy Joel - The Stranger

"You gave me all these records with all these songs and all these words to tell me you love me and I’m not sure you even knew.” 

And she’s right. He got her those records because he knew they’d make her smile. Because that smile means everything to him whether he wants to admit it or not. He got those records to show her that even when he’s gone on a run, she’s always on his mind. He believed it to be a curse, a ghost haunting him for all his past mistakes and taunting him with what he shall never have.

But maybe it’s not a curse. 

Maybe it’s a blessing. A sweet song to remind him that someone back home is waiting. A gentle reminder that life can and will go on and good things can come from immense tragedy. And moving on doesn’t mean forgetting, in fact, it means remembering. Remembering the bad and believing that there can and will be good and that it’s worth it to go on. Even if you are a different you. Not worse or better, just changed. And that you deserve love. And kindness. And warmth.

Joel drops the envelope and its contents on the table and grabs his thick winter jacket as he rushes outside. The cold feels only half as bad as it nips at his skin, he barely notices. There is a fire inside him now, burning away all the doubts and hesitation. 

He’s back at her door, only this time he doesn’t wait to knock. He’s spent so much time denying himself the one thing he wants that he can’t lose just one second more. The rapping of his knuckles against her door echoes through the winter day. Oh, how he can’t wait for the spring and the summer and her in that gorgeous dress. 

“Joel?” 

Back before — everything, Joel remembers a movie night with Sarah. She got to choose and despite being an avid fan of trashy action and horror movies, that time she chose a romantic comedy. All things considered, Joel can admit that when Harry met Sally wasn’t the worst choice but he still would’ve preferred Star Wars or Terminator. 

He does remember the ending though, the grand finale. He remembers Sarah trying to wipe away tears without him noticing. And he remembers Billy Crystal’s words “When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” 

Back then he thought it was some silly, cheesy movie speak. No one feels that way, right? It’s grandiose and kitschy for the sake of movie magic.

But no, he’s sure now, that one is true. Because it’s how he feels.

“I love you!” 

That confession should come with ribbons and flowers and fireworks but it doesn’t. It comes with honesty and that is all that matters. It comes from the heart.

“Huh?” 

“I got your postcard. The photo too and the tape. And I love you.” 

“I know. Took you long enough to figure it out.” 

“I’m sorry. I — I still believe that I am not a good man and that you deserve better. But it would be selfish to punish you for my own insecurities. I love you and I want to let you love me. If you still want to, that is.” 

“Joel Miller?”

“Yeah?” 

“Please just fucking kiss me.” 

Joel remembers a lot of kisses in his lifetime. Some rushed, some clumsy. Quick kisses in secret. Long drawn-out smooches in smokey bars. Loving, fast, aggressive, and soft. 

This one is different, as cheesy as it sounds.

This kiss makes him feel like all he’s ever been and all he ever will be can live in peace with one another. This kiss makes him feel like none of it matters as long as he has her. 

She tastes like peppermint and sunshine and he’s sure he’ll never get enough of her. The feeling of her skin against his as he gently cradles her face in his hand. The soft movements on her chest as she breathes. The twitch of her lips as she smiles into the kiss.

For the first time in his life, Joel is sure that a kiss is more than a kiss. It’s a healing hand on a shattered heart. It’s a new path to a new future. It’s sunshine melting the ice from his bones.

It’s a promise to try every day and to be better and to be enough. ---

[notsoattractivearenti]

You’re Safe With Me (Mason Mount x Reader)

WC: 1.6K

Warning/Tags: toxic mother-child relationship, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, cursing, angst, protective!bf

A/N: i really didn’t feel good today, so had to channel my negative emotions into the healthiest way possible (aka writing). this one's really angsty, tho dw it has a happy ending. hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍 (ps: if you want to be added in my taglist just lmk!)

—

Even though you are an adult with a good job and stable income, you still live under the same roof as your mum. She is a single mother, and as her only child and family, you didn’t have the heart to leave her on her own. You care so much for your mother, yet she has never exactly been kind to you since you were little. She never physically hurt you, no, but her words have never failed to leave scars inside your heart. And by living with her, that means you constantly have to face her spiteful words and feeling helpless.

You met your boyfriend, Mason through a mutual friend 6 months ago. Knowing how famous he is, at first you thought he would never be interested in a nobody like you, but you were glad you were wrong. You and him clicked right away, and a month later, you both decided to be in a committed relationship.

You have never felt so truly loved before Mason came into your life. Constantly got brought down by your own mother, you always thought you don’t deserve love even from yourself. But Mason shows you that you deserve everything good in the world, and he helps you gain your self-esteem and change your negative view of yourself. He sees through you, loving you for everything you are, and makes you believe unconditional love is not just a myth.

Mason asked you to move in with him to Manchester last week, and after having long talks through the phone for days, you decided to accept it. It might sound fast, but you were really certain it’s the best decision and truly excited to live with the love of your life. But the hardest thing to do is to tell your mum you’re going to move in with your boyfriend, which means you have to relocate to another city. You have always wanted to live on your own, and though you feel guilty, you finally think it’s time to live the life you’ve dreamt of even if it also means you have to leave your mum.

Today, you finally have the courage to tell your mum you’re moving out soon. And of course, she doesn’t respond well.

“I didn’t raise you to be a selfish brat like you are today!” She yells at you.

“Excuse me? Selfish brat you say? How am I fucking selfish, Mum???” You can’t comprehend being called so by her.

“The way you want to move away and leave me to, and I quote, ‘living my life the way it should have been’, doesn’t that sound selfish to you? Stop thinking about yourself, Y/N! The fucking world doesn’t revolve around you!” She continues yelling.

“I have dedicated my life for you, Mum. I have basically lived to ‘serve’ you. I respected you, tolerated your actions no matter how badly those might affect me, I cared for you…” Your voice starts to break, “...because I love you. But I’m sorry, I’m not a superhuman and I have my limits...”

“Bullshit!” She denies. “You ‘serve’ me no shit. I gave up my exciting, beautiful life to raise a child who turned out to be an ungrateful person. If you really love me, you will not leave me. Let alone to live with some guy.”

“He is not just some guy, Mason is a guy who loves me. And genuinely cares about me. He makes me happy and helps me realise that I deserve so much better, Mum!”

“I deserve so much better!” She shouts even louder while aggressively pointing at herself. “And please, you just want his fucking money and fame. Why would a guy like him fall in love with a self-absorbed wretch like you?”

Her words, as always, instantly break your heart into a million pieces. You love her dearly, but you aren’t sure if she loves you too, though you know one thing for sure: in her eyes, you will always be on the wrong side.

“I…” You are completely shocked by your mother’s response and at that moment, you can no longer hold back your tears. You run back into your room, lock the door and cry your heart out.

—

After calming yourself down for a little while, you grab your phone to video call your boyfriend. You really need someone to talk to, and he is the one who can easily comfort you.

“Hey, baby!” Mason picks up the phone, he looks excited to see you.

“Hey…” You whimper, your eyes are still red but you try to conceal your sadness.

He immediately becomes very concerned. “Y/N… What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…” You shake your head weakly. “Just had another fight with my mum…”

“Fuck.” He instantly knows your mum doesn’t take the news well. “Please, whatever it was, don’t listen to anything she said about you. You are not whatever she said you are.”

“I feel like I am… She is right, I’m a selfish brat for leaving her.” I start crying

He is heartbroken to see how much your mum has wounded you deeply. He would do everything he can to help you look at yourself beyond your mum’s hurtful words – because he knows how unpleasant your mother is and that you are nothing like your mum would say.

“Stop it Y/N! You are not selfish to think about yourself! You truly matter, baby. Your feelings are valid. She has treated you like shit all your life, even God knows you deserve to live a better life away from her.” He assures you.

You can’t seem to say anything, you just really feel like shit.

Worried about your wellbeing, Mason takes an impulsive but necessary decision at the moment for your sake. He doesn't want you to suffer any longer; he just has to get you out of there as soon as possible.

“Y/N, go pack your things. I’m going to book a flight right now and pick you up. It’s time to leave… I’ll be there in no time.”

You actually have packed most of your belongings days ago, so you let him know you’re practically good to go.

“Good. See you soon, my love.” He hangs up the phone.

—

Hours later, Mason informs you with a text that he is coming to your house. Once you hear Mason’s car pulling over, you say goodbye to your room then bring your belongings downstairs. You want to leave without saying goodbye to your mum because you don’t want to hear her saying whatever she is going to say. You open the door quietly and Mason is about to help you when you see your mum catch you before you even leave the house.

“Hey! Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?” Your mum runs toward you and tries to harshly grab your arm but Mason denies her.

“Stay away from Y/N.” He says as he points at her. He then tells you to leave your belongings and get into the car immediately – you follow his direction right away.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!?”

“I’m someone who will love Y/N and protect them. Because their mother obviously can’t do her one fucking job.” He calls her out.

“Fuck you!” She fumes. “They’re my child, I fucking raised them, I have the right to know everything about them and do whatever I want to them!”

“They’re a fucking adult who gets to do whatever they want, including leaving a horrible mother like you. You have no right to control them. The only person who gets to control their life is themselves.” He defends you.

“I beg to differ.” She scoffs. “You’re just a little kid talking nonsense.”

“Listen to me, Y/M/N.” He speaks so intensely to your mum. “From now on, you are out of their life. They are going to live the life they deserve. You are no longer allowed to interfere with their life in any fucking way or any circumstances.”

“Oh please, you can try to keep us apart however you want but they’re going to need their mother, arsehole.” She replies as she sneers at him.

“Y/N has my mum who loves them as her own child. They will never need you, Y/M/N. And sooner or later, you’re going to realise what a good child they’ve always been, how much your life depended on them, and what a horrible mother you have always been.”

Before your mum gets to say anything else, Mason walks out of the house with your belongings in his hands, slams the door on her face and gets into the car. You see how visibly angry he is the moment he gets out of your mum’s house, though you know he is angry for you. You haven’t stopped tearing up ever since before Mason came to pick you up, but the tears are falling down on your face even more now – but this time, those are the tears of freedom, the tears of joy. The second Mason got out of the house, you know you’re finally safe. Him and his family are your safe haven now and you can’t wait to finally be around people who are genuinely supportive of you. Most importantly: you are safe without your mother, the one person you love so much but couldn’t even appreciate even the littlest thing about her one and only child.

As Mason gets into the driver’s seat and starts the car, he notices you are crying. 

“Hey, hey, you’re all good now, baby.” He reaches an arm out and rubs your shoulder, then wipes away your tears with his fingers. “You’re going to be okay.”

You nod your head and hold his hand.

“Thank you, Mase.”

“Don’t mention it, my love.” He continues rubbing your shoulder to comfort you. “As long as I’m living, you’re safe with me.”

—

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

[cmdrfupa]

Chance Encounters

Part three of De Novo (Toji x Reader) All chapters as well as content warnings can be found here.

a/n: It's getting somewhere omg. This series is honestly a delight to write and I want to make sure I'm really taking my time in giving something good and worth a read. warning: Naoya AND Kenjaku mentioning (i know i know but we gotta make it juicy somehow.) Thank you for reading and I hope you're well!

"When a good man is hurt, all who would be called good must suffer with him." - Euripides

The early afternoon sun beamed down gently, glinting off the glass buildings and warming the concrete sidewalks of Tokyo. Pale pink sakura buds dot the trees along the streets, some just beginning to bloom, while the breeze rustles through them with a hint of freshness.

  Toji made his way to the stadium and wasted no time finding a space that was sat off to the side, his frame hunched slightly forward, elbows resting on his knees as he watched Megumi jog out onto the field and greet the visiting team.

  He kept it as low key as possible: plain long sleeve shirt, dark wash jeans and his usual boots. He dawned a baseball cap with the brim low, shadowing over his dark features with it pulled so low.

He was succeeding at keeping a low profile, as he promised to Megumi, but Gojo plopped down next to him, making any hope of blending in vanish.

  “You made it!” Gojo grinned as he leaned back casually, one arm draped over the back of the seat behind him.

“He told me not to make myself visible. Don't think this is a good idea.”

“Nah, hes just being an angsty kid, I'm glad you made it.”

  Gojo waved out to Megumi who swiftly ignored him and gave a halfhearted nod when his eyes made it to Toji.

The arrangement was strange. A man Toji was once hired to kill and ended up getting his ass handed to him was raising his child. But it was probably the safest and most consistent housing arrangement for Megumi since he was 7.

He knew his father worked often but didn’t understand why he had to live with his “uncle”. He remembered little of him and was even told little about Toji until he met him at age twelve when his stepsister was more happy to see the man than Megumi was. But it was better than never knowing Megumi in Toji’s eyes.

  “Man you’re quiet today. No snark? No wisecracks? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Toji Fushiguro?”

  Toji snorted softly, shaking his head. ‘I’m here, aren’t I? I don’t have to banter with a grown ass brat.”

  Gojo cheesed at his retort before pulling out a pack of gum, immediately putting 4 pieces in his mouth.

  “I've got a local gig right now.”

  “Do I need to get Megs out of the city?” Gojo looked out to the field, Megumi swinging his bat awaiting his call up.

  “For now I think its fine.” Toji looked down at his hands then out at the field once Megumi was called up. Both he and Gojo clapped as the unamused teen walked on with his head down.

  “I’m only mentioning it because it involves someone you know.”

  “Oh? A scorned ex? Utahime? Oh fuck, please tell me its Utahime!”

Toji side eyed Gojo and leaned forward onto his knees.

  “Striiike one!” The umpire yelled.

  “your friends brother, Kenjaku.”

it was hard to miss the way Gojo’s teeth were grinding as he practically rubbed the fabric loose on his trousers. “Same old shit?”

“Yeah. Just worse.”

  “Striiike two!”

  The unspoken details said everything. Kenjaku was the only thing that was a stain to literally anyone he’d come across. A morally corrupt man whose only real goal was to elevate himself at every turn.

  The crack of the bat connecting with the ball echoed across the field, and both men turned their attention back to the game. Megumi took off running, his legs carrying him to past first base as he rounded the diamond with a speed that drew cheers from the crowd.

  Toji stood up, clapping with a boom and whistling simultaneously as Gojo gave a warrior yell. “Nice Megs! Thats my boy!”

  The crowd cheered as he gave a few fist bumps and trotted back to home base then to the dugout.

“Kid’s got good instincts,” Gojo remarked, a hint of pride in his tone.

Toji nodded slightly, his expression softening just enough that someone paying close attention might notice. “Yeah. He does.”

  The name Kenjaku hung in the air between them, heavy despite the lightness of the atmosphere. Gojo let out a low whistle, his sunglasses slipping slightly down his nose as he turned to fully face Toji.

  “I’ll be going as Zen'in just to make it all easier. No ties to Megs or anything. Just want a clean slate after this one and I want the boy to not have to deal with any fallout if there is any.”

  “You gonna be alright? Suguru hadn’t mentioned him being back in town so now even I feel like I’m being left in the dark here.”

  Toji’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk. “It’s a job. I’ve handled worse.” He finagled the pack of gum from the breast pocket of Gojo’s shirt and tossed a piece into his mouth. “I'll be getting a job in Getos’ club so you can give him a heads up at least. I don’t know if you want to tell him I’m investigating his brother or not. Your call.”

  Gojo blew a small bubble and popped it a few times before sliding his glasses back up. “Need a place to hideout? I have that old condo down in Yokohama if you want to lay low?”

  “Are you pitying me? Don't need that.” Toji gruffed.

  Gojo shook his head and sighed. “I don’t do pity, Fushiguro. You know that.” Gojo rubbed his hand across the nape of his neck and sat up. “But you’re my favorite broke ass and you should at least be comfortable and out of the city enough during this. Megs is a shared responsibility and I just want his dad in a good space.”

  Toji wasn’t good at whatever this is. A man he was once sent to kill now the guardian of his only child and now offering him a better place to stay than the box he was going to rent out above some random shop. He let out a low chuckle and nodded. “I’ll take your offer, I appreciate it.”

  Gojo hummed before a thought came to mind. “Fushiguro,” Gojo said after a while, his voice lighter now. “You ever think about hanging it up? You know, all the cloak-and-dagger stuff. Maybe stick around a little longer?”

Toji’s jaw tightened slightly, but his tone was calm when he replied. “That was my plan til it wasn’t. Not my style.”

Gojo shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Figured you’d say that. Guess it’s a good thing the kid’s got me to keep him balanced, huh?”

Toji didn’t answer, but the faintest flicker of amusement crossed his face before he turned back to the field. As the game continued, Gojo stayed beside him, the two men watching in silence, bound by their shared purpose: keeping Megumi safe, no matter what it took.

The club felt almost unrecognizable during the day. Without the dim lights and buzzing energy of the night, the space seemed quieter, more subdued. The faint smell of cleaning supplies lingered in the air, mixing with the distant hum of the sound system being tested. A handful of staff members, yourself included, had gathered near the bar for the midday meeting Suguru had called.

You weren’t sure why you were all here—usually, daytime meetings only happened when something big was changing. Maybe there was a new policy, or maybe someone had finally pushed Suguru too far. Either way, you were curious.

“All right, everyone,” Suguru began, his voice smooth as always. “Thanks for dragging yourselves out of bed for this. I know most of you would rather still be asleep.”

A few chuckles rippled through the group, but you stayed quiet, your gaze fixed on Suguru as he continued.

“This isn’t our usual meeting. I wanted to make sure that everyone was made aware of some changes I will be implementing,” he spoke calmly, a slight sternness with each word. “They aren’t major changes but enough that I decided it was time to bring in people who can help us expand but also reinforcements to better protect our staff.”

Suguru crossed his legs as he situated himself in the clothed chair on stage.

Ever the elusive chameleon, he was a great boss. He assured you that every entertainers concerns were going to be taken seriously always from the very beginning.

His long, raven hair sat in a loose bun at the back of his head as he tucked away a few strands from his face.

“As you all know, last week we had potential investors in the crowd coming in to see the best of Tantra. And I'm excited to say you all delivered.” the good news started a quiet wave of murmurs amongst the employees.

“Your hips did all of this.” Shoko nudged you and winked. “Your carimbo just secured us a new green room.”

You chuckled into your sleeve and shook your head. “I’m a small part of the reason. Those drinks you poor heavily into are definitely the reason.”

“Mm. You’re welcome.” you both snickered as the sound of the heavy metal doors from back stage silenced the room.

Two sets of footsteps were seemingly making their way to the front and Suguru continued. “There will be two new faces you'll be seeing around. The first being part of renovations, contract revisions and foreign talent we take in, so please welcome Kenjaku; our new resource and development liaison.”

On cue, a tall, long haired figure, similar to Suguru, walked from behind the curtains and rose his head, showing off the most unsettling, robotic smile you’d ever seen. “Little brother, its so good to be working together again.” He spoke slowly, words felt like they were dripping with falsities as he squeezed Suguru’s shoulder. The large facial tattoos he dawned made him look like Frankenstein's rejected first born. They were bold, distinct. You’d never miss him and that felt like the point.

You didn’t miss the way Suguru flinched at the contact, the sound of his own brothers voice. He seemed uninterested, disturbed even, at how he was being so chummy. “Glad to have you on board.” his tone was flat, dry.

“Now, a more serious topic. We’ve had a few issues lately,” he said, his tone turning just a touch more serious. “Nothing major, but customers who feel entitled and rude boyfriends. I decided it was time to bring in some… reinforcements. Someone who can keep things running smoothly and handle any problems before they get out of hand.”

You tilted your head slightly, curious. Reinforcement? Did he mean more security?

“And by problems,” Shoko chimed in, her tone dry as she swirled her coffee, “he means the idiots who think this is the kind of place where they can get grabby with the staff.”

A few groans of agreement came from the group, and Suguru smirked, nodding. “Exactly. Which is why I’d like you all to meet the new head of security. He will be working closely with our entertainers to ensure your safety during work hours as well as helping with private security when you have small parties, one on one dances, etcetera. Mr. Zen'in?”

the heavy footsteps seemed to make you a bit more excited at the new face. As he came from behind the curtains, that familiar scar over the lips made your eyes widen. “Zen'in?” you whispered. “he told me Fushiguro.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he walked toward the group, his broad shoulders and calm, commanding presence impossible to ignore. He wore a dark button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, his usual air of casual confidence somehow even more pronounced in the stark light of day.

You blinked, trying to process what you were seeing. What the hell was he doing here?

“This is Toji Zen'in,” Suguru said, motioning toward him with a grin. “He’ll be keeping an eye on things from the inside to ensure everyone's’ safety and that patrons are behaving. He’s friendlier than he looks so please feel free to introduce yourself when you see him around.”

Toji’s gaze swept across the group, lingering on you for just a moment before moving on. His expression was unreadable, calm but with that same quiet intensity that always seemed to surround him at the diner.

You felt Shoko shift beside you, her coffee cup lowered as she poured a shot of whiskey in it. “Well, well,” she muttered, her tone laced with delight. “Didn’t expect to see him here.”

You turned to her, your brow furrowing. “You know him?”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, yeah. The Zen’in clan. Taught one of their kids, heard of em mostly though. He and Suguru have a bit of a friendly history.”

Your stomach dropped.

“That doesn’t make sense,” you said quietly, your voice almost drowned out by the murmurs of the other staff members. “He told me his name was Fushiguro.”

Shoko glanced at you, clearly amused by your reaction. “Yeah, he took his wife’s name after he had a falling out with his family. Big drama. Old money in politics, high society, the whole nine yards. Stripped him of the Zen’in name and the power that came with it.” She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “Though, I gotta say, it’s interesting that he’s using it again now.”

The pieces of the puzzle that had been floating in your mind since that day in the diner were slowly clicking into place. His guarded nature, the way he always seemed to avoid personal questions, the intensity in his gaze—it all made sense now. You too would hide yourself if you are part of a powerful clan.

But that didn’t explain why he was here.

You barely heard her explanation, your gaze locked on Toji as he exchanged a few words with some of the security team and a few ladies on stage before stepping down. His movements were deliberate, fluid, as if he knew exactly how much space he took up exactly. You felt a tightness in your chest, a mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Betrayal? Or maybe just the overwhelming weight of trying to reconcile the quiet, brooding man from the diner with this—to put it lightly— A Zen’in.

“He’s full of surprises, huh?” Shoko added, lighting a cigarette and blowing out in the opposite direction from you. She sounded almost entertained by how you were processing this.

Before you could respond, Toji’s eyes flicked across the room, and landed on you. His gaze was sharp, unreadable, but there was a flicker of something beneath it. Recognition? Acknowledgment? Whatever it was, it sent a chill down your spine.

And then, as if sensing the weight of your stare, he made his way toward you.

You swallowed hard, your pulse quickening as he approached. He stopped just a few feet away, his expression calm, his hands in his pockets. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the air between you charged with unspoken tension.

“You seem surprised,” he said finally, his voice low and smooth, carrying just enough weight to make you feel off-balance.

“I am,” you replied, keeping your tone steady. “Didn’t know you were looking for a job. And Zen’in? That’s not the name you gave me.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips twitching into a faint simper. “Didn’t think it mattered.”

“Didn’t think it mattered?” you echoed, a spark of frustration slipping into your voice. “You lied.”

He shrugged, his gaze never wavering. “Not a lie. Just didn’t tell you everything. Not exactly your business to know everything, either.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Shoko cut in before you could.

“Alright, you two, let’s save the drama for later,” she said, her tone dry but laced with amusement. “Don’t want to scare off the rest of the staff on his first night.”

Toji’s smirk widened slightly, though his eyes remained locked on yours. “Guess we’ll have to talk later,” he said, his tone almost teasing, before winking and walking past you, leaving you with a mess of questions and emotions swirling in his wake.

Shoko leaned closer, nudging you with her elbow. “Careful with that one,” she said, her voice quiet enough that only you could hear. “He’s more trouble than you think.”

You glanced back toward Toji, who was now standing with Suguru and one of the bartenders near the front doors, his broad shoulders and imposing presence making him impossible to ignore. Shoko’s words lingered in your mind, but something about him—something beyond the name, the reputation, or the secrets—pulled at you in a way you couldn’t explain.

And that, more than anything else, left you unsettled.

Crude. Disgusting, fully outside of who he has been for years now.

The car was parked just down the street from the club, engine off, the silence inside broken only by the faint busyness of passing traffic. Toji sat in the driver’s seat, one arm draped over the steering wheel, his jaw tight as he stared out the windshield.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there, the meeting replaying over and over in his head like some kind of punishment.

Crude, rude, disgusting behavior.

He clenched his fist, the leather of the steering wheel creaking faintly under the pressure. He’d handled it like he needed to—cold, detached, playing the role of the unapproachable bastard because that’s what worked. That’s what kept people at arm’s length, made them think twice about digging into his business or asking too many questions.

But with you?

With you, it felt like he needed be unguarded. And it was pissing him off.

He could still see the look on your face when Suguru introduced him, that flash of confusion and hurt when you heard the name Zen’in, like a puzzle piece had been forced into place and left you wondering what else about him was a lie. And then the way you looked at him during the meeting, your gaze sharp, like you were waiting for him to explain himself, to tell you why the man sitting in that room felt so far removed from the one you’d known before.

He’d played the part perfectly. Just enough of an edge in his tone to make it clear that he wasn’t interested in small talk. And for the most part, it worked. You’d barely said anything to him after the meeting, and when you did, it was short, clipped, like you were keeping yourself in check.

Exactly what I wanted, he thought bitterly, his teeth grinding together.

And yet, the memory of your expression stuck with him, digging into his chest like a splinter he couldn’t pull free.

“I can’t fucking do this.”

He let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down his face. What the hell’s wrong with me?

This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. You were just another person, another moving part in a world he was supposed to keep functioning smoothly. His job here wasn’t to make friends or build relationships—it was to keep things in line, to be the wall people didn’t bother trying to climb. And yet…

His fingers curled into a fist as he leaned back in the seat, his head hitting the headrest with a soft thud. He’d never been the type to care what people thought of him. He didn’t have the time or the patience for it. But now? Sitting here, replaying the meeting and the way he’d deliberately brushed you off like any of the women who were desperate for his attention, he felt disgusted. Not with you—but with himself.

Because, no matter how much he tried to act like it didn’t matter, like you didn’t matter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d crossed some invisible line. He’d looked into your eyes, seen the faint shadow of hurt there, and for a split second, he’d wanted to say something real—something that wasn’t part of the cold mask he’d been wearing since the day he walked into the diner.

He wanted to tell you the truth.

The thought made his stomach twist, a sharp, uncomfortable pang of self-awareness settling in his chest. This is exactly why I need to keep my distance.

He knew better than to get attached. Better than to let himself linger in moments that felt too warm, too genuine. People like him didn’t get to have those things. His life didn’t allow for it—never had, never would.

And yet, the more he tried to push you away, the harder it was to ignore the way you lingered in his thoughts.

Toji exhaled sharply, his hands gripping the steering wheel again as he stared out at the growing light. This was going to be harder than he thought.

It wasn’t just that he didn’t want you to get close—it was that he didn’t know if he was strong enough to keep you from seeing through him.

How the hell am I supposed to make you hate me, he thought darkly, his jaw tightening as his fingers drummed against the wheel, when I can’t even stop myself from wanting to be real with you?

The air in the car felt stifling, heavy with unspoken frustration. Toji reached for the key, jamming it into the ignition and twisting it sharply. The engine roared to life, a loud reminder of the reality he needed to stay grounded in.

He shifted into gear, pulling out onto the street, his hands gripping the wheel tightly as he drove. He’d made it through worse than this. He’d learned how to bury things deeper than anyone could ever reach.

But tonight, for the first time in a long time, he wondered if that was enough.

-------------------

The condo was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the living room, offering an uninterrupted view of the glittering skyline. Toji leaned against the doorway, his sharp eyes scanning the sleek, minimalist design of the space. It was almost too pristine—everything in neutral tones, glass and polished wood surfaces gleaming under the dim recessed lighting.

“Figures,” he muttered to himself, his lips twitching in a faint smirk. This place had Gojo written all over it—expensive, flashy, and just detached enough to feel impersonal.

Toji stepped further inside, letting the door close behind him with a soft click. He took off his shoes and sat them at the door, the echo of his heavy footsteps hitting the hardwood floors followed him as he made his way through the condo, dropping his duffel bag unceremoniously on the couch. The kitchen was sleek, the fridge stocked with a few basics, but it was the master bedroom that made him pause.

A king-sized bed sat neatly made with crisp white sheets, a low platform frame adding to the modern aesthetic. Plush pillows lined the head of the bed with a beyond fluffy comforter neatly made up across it. It was a far cry from the small, utilitarian motels and over the top lux hotels he’d grown accustomed to during his work. This room felt too comfortable, too settled—almost like it belonged to someone with a life he didn’t have.

Toji shrugged off his jacket, tossing it onto the bed before heading to the bathroom. The space was just as luxurious as the rest of the condo, complete with a rainfall showerhead and marble floors. He turned the water on, steam quickly filling the room as he stripped out of his clothes.

The hot water hit his skin, washing away the tension that had been clinging to him since the staff meeting. He let himself linger under the spray, his head tilted forward as the water ran through his hair and over his shoulders.

You’ve been through worse, he thought, trying to shake off the unease that had settled in his chest. The situation at the club, the meeting with you—he’d handle it. He always did.

“Being a Zen’in means separating yourself from the rest. Hold yourself to where you can’t be touched but they’d be willing to die just to hear you degrade them. The Zen’in way, cousin.”

The voice rang through his mind as the water ran over his face for a bit too long. Toji came back to the present, coughing and breathing heavily as he turned the water off.

After the shower, he changed into a pair of loose sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt, running a towel through his damp hair as he moved back into the living room. The condo was quiet, save for the faint sounds of the refrigerator and a few voices cascading in from the courtyard at the center of the complex.

He had just settled onto the oversized couch, his head leaning back against the cushions, when his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Toji’s brow furrowed as he reached for it, flipping it over to check the screen. A text.

-Hi. Got your number from Suguru—he said it’s for emergencies, but I hope you don’t mind me using it. Just wanted to… clear the air after today.

Your name flashed on the screen, and for a moment, Toji didn’t move, his thumb hovering over the reply button. He read the message again, something in him tightening at the thought of you reaching out.

He could’ve left it alone. A quick “No problem” or even no reply at all would’ve been enough to maintain the distance he was trying so hard to keep. But instead, his thumb slid over to the call button, and before he could second-guess himself, the phone was ringing.

You answered after the second ring.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” Toji said, his voice calm and steady. “Figured I’d call instead of texting. Easier that way.”

There was a slight pause on your end before you responded. “Oh. Okay. Well. Hi.”

He could hear the slight surprise in your voice, and it almost made him smirk. He leaned back into the couch, letting the weight of the day ease just slightly as he found himself speaking again.

“About the name thing,” he started, keeping his tone even. “I wasn’t trying to lie to you.”

“You didn’t think it was worth mentioning?” you asked, and though your tone wasn’t sharp, he could hear the edge of hurt lingering beneath it.

Toji let out a soft sigh, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not like that. Suguru’s always known me as Zen’in. That’s the name I use in professional settings—makes things easier. Less messy.”

“Less messy?”

He chuckled, the sound low and quiet. “You wouldn’t believe the headaches the Zen’in name comes with. Fushiguro… it’s what I go by when I don’t want people connecting me to the family. But around Suguru, around work—it’s just simpler this way.”

Another pause, and then your voice softened. “Okay. I get it.”

Toji’s shoulders relaxed slightly at the sound of your forgiveness, though he wasn’t sure why it mattered so much.

“Thanks for not holding it against me,” he said, his voice dropping just slightly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say you’re completely off the hook,” you teased, and he could hear the faint smile in your tone.

A corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Didn’t think it’d be that easy.”

“So do I keep calling you Fushiguro around Ayame?”

‘Yes, please. Would make life easier.”

“Hm” you softly hummed into the phone. “I’m expecting bonus pay for all this extra work I’m having to do on your behalf.”

Toji smiled and closed his eyes. “Yes ma’am.”

  What started as a conversation to clear the air quickly shifted into something lighter, easier. You asked him about the rest of his day which led to him mentioning the condo, and he responded with a mix of dry humor and genuine observations, describing the place as “too damn big for one person” but “exactly what I’d expect from Gojo.”

Your laughter over the phone caught him off guard. It wasn’t loud or overbearing—just soft, genuine, and for a moment, it felt like it filled the quiet space of the condo.

“You sound like you’ve got a few stories about Gojo,” you chimed, amusement lacing your words.

“More than a few,” Toji admitted, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Most of ‘em would probably make you question why he’s allowed to walk around unsupervised.”

“And Suguru, the man who has mandatory quiet time before the club opens, is married to him? I just can’t see it.”

“Believe me, no one can. But it works. You’ll see when he visits the club sometimes.”

The banter came easily after that, your voice filling the silence as the conversation drifted from Gojo to other topics. Toji found himself talking more than he expected, your laughter and occasional sharp quips pulling him into a rhythm that felt too comfortable for his liking but didn’t even give it a second notice as he moved from the couch to the bedroom.

At some point, he realized he put you on speaker with the phone lying on his chest, and his right hand had drifted to his left ring finger, his thumb absently sliding over the familiar metal band there. He hadn’t even noticed when he’d started twisting it, the cool metal spinning loosely against his skin until he slipped it off entirely.

The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

He stared down at the ring in his palm, the weight of it suddenly feeling heavier than it ever had before. His chest tightened, a sharp pang of guilt and unease cutting through the ease he’d felt just moments ago.

You were still talking, unaware of his sudden silence. He slid the ring back on quickly, the motion almost frantic, as though putting it back could undo the thoughts that had started creeping into his mind.

“You still there?” you asked, your voice breaking through the fog in his head.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher now. “Still here.”

But even as he said it, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was standing on the edge of something he wasn’t sure he could walk away from.

“I didn’t realize how late it was, sorry about that. I should let you get some rest before your first shift tonight.”

He heard you shuffle around as you spoke, assumed you were packing your outfits for the evenings show.

“Yeah. Would be a good idea. I’ll see you tonight. Be safe.” He stared down at his ring finger, the ring seemingly pulsing around it. “And let me know if you need me tonight. I’ll be in Suguru’s office by the time you get there.”

“Of course! I’ll see you tonight, Toji. Be careful.”

the call ended and Toji was left with a feeling that he hated.

“I absolutely cannot fucking do this.”

The office was suffocatingly silent except for the steady ticking of the ornate clock on the wall. Naoya sat at his desk, fingers drumming against polished wood as his other hand gripped his phone tightly. His jaw clenched, barely containing the fury coursing through him. When the call finally connected, he didn’t wait for pleasantries.

“You better have a damn good explanation for this, Kenjaku,” Naoya spat, venom dripping from every word. “Do you have any idea what your failure cost me?”

The voice on the other end was infuriatingly calm, smooth as silk and just as slippery.

“Naoya, you’re always so dramatic. Relax.” There was a pause, and Naoya could almost hear the faint sound of a chuckle. “It’s not as though your world is ending.”

Naoya’s fist slammed onto the desk, rattling a glass of whiskey that sat untouched beside him.

“Don’t patronize me, you ground snake. You promised results. I don’t make deals with incompetents. Do you understand how bad this makes me look?”

Kenjaku’s response was maddeningly casual. “Oh, Naoya. Always concerned with appearances. Isn’t it exhausting? Perhaps you should broaden your perspective. You Zen’ins are so... limited.”

“What did you just say?” Naoya’s voice dropped an octave, dangerously low. “I’ll give you one chance to explain yourself before I make you regret ever crossing me.”

Kenjaku sighed, the sound mocking. “Threats already? That’s disappointing. I thought you had more finesse. But since you insist... our deal, Naoya, is no longer my priority. Let’s just say I’ve found someone more... capable.”

The words hung in the air, their weight pressing down on Naoya’s chest. His grip on the phone tightened until his knuckles turned white.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded. “There’s no one more capable than me. Who the hell do you think you’re dealing with?”

Kenjaku’s laugh was soft, yet it sent a chill down Naoya’s spine.

“Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with. But it seems you’ve overlooked something... or someone. I’ve found a Zen’in who might understands power in a way you never will.”

Naoya’s heart skipped a beat, his mind racing. Another Zen’in? It couldn’t be Maki or Mai—they were too insignificant. His father? No, Naobito wouldn’t stoop to dealing with someone like Kenjaku. That left...

“You’re bluffing,” Naoya said, though the edge in his voice betrayed his growing unease. “There’s no one else. No one worth your time.”

“Oh, I assure you, they’re very much worth my time,” Kenjaku purred. “In fact, I’d say they’re a better investment than you could ever be. But don’t take it personally. You’re just... replaceable.”

The word hit Naoya like a slap to the face. Replaceable. Him? His nails dug into his palm as he struggled to maintain control.

“Who is it?” he hissed. “Tell me who you’re working with.”

Kenjaku’s tone turned almost pitying, though the mockery was still evident.

“Now, now, Naoya. Where’s the fun in that? You’ll find out soon enough. But if I were you... I’d watch my back. You’re not as untouchable as you think.”

Before Naoya could respond, the line went dead. For a moment, he sat frozen, staring at the phone in his hand as though willing it to reconnect. Then, with a roar of frustration, he hurled it across the room, shattering it against the wall.

The office was silent again. Naoya’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing. His mind raced, replaying Kenjaku’s words over and over. Another Zen’in. Someone who could replace him.

But who could be so bold to try and be a Zen’in.

And more importantly... why?

[zombholic]

hii me again (the one that just texted about forgotten ask) but it was about abby (i had a doctor!abby in mind but it’s up to you) couple of days ago it was basically about hurt/comfort, angst type of thing where you know they fight, scream and cry and then kiss and make up, and talk and whole lot of fluff, and apologize<3 but you can write it as you see fit (obviously, it’s your work) but it was just an idea, cause i’m a sucker for this type of fics😭(i basically just wrote the whole plot here cause i didn’t want you to look for it)

JEALOUS GIRL — abby anderson

summary — basically what anon said ^

description — poc!fem reader with bpd, doctor!abby, angsty, very angry reader.

— 🎧　　 ◦ ✺ 　 📽　 ⟢ —

You and Abby had went to her best friend’s birthday get together, Leah. You quite honestly couldn’t stand that stuck up piece of shit, she has no problem flirting with your girlfriend in front of you like you’re not there. Abby is one of those girls where you have to tell her you have feelings for her or else she thinks you’re just being friendly, how else did you guys start dating to begin with.

Your girlfriend was sat on the couch next to Leah, who was too close for comfort. Nora had pulled you aside to have a drink with you, she was your favorite honestly, the complete opposite of Leah yet somehow all of them get along her.

“You said you were going to college soon right?” Nora was trying to make conversation with you but your glare never left the couch, you try to stay calm and collected around Abby’s friends since they were much older but seeing her grab onto your girlfriends arm like that made you want to violently grab her head and smash it into your knee.

“Y/n?” Nora waved her hand in front of your out of touch face, blinking your eyes a couple of times you looked over at her “Sorry, I get distracted easily. Yeah I’m going to start my career in becoming a veterinarian.” You gave her an apologetic smile.

The rest of the night stayed like that, Leah basically begging for Abby to fuck her right in front of you. Your blood was boiling to the point your body started heating up, if anyone touched you they would get third degree burns. When it was finally time to leave you swore all love for Abby was pushed deep inside leaving you filled with anger.

“Lemme get the door fo—“ “I can open the door for my fucking self.” You shoved her hand away from the handle of her car, getting inside and slamming it so hard it almost shook the whole car. Abby looked at you with the most confused expression plastered across her face “What’s wrong with you?” She started her engine before going back to look at you “Don’t fucking talk to me right now.” Your arms were crossed over your chest, your nails digging deep into your boiling flesh.

The rest of the ride back home lingered with tension and anger fuming from you. Right as she parked the car you were quick to get out repeatedly the same action to slam the door, walking inside your shared home with her you shut the door right before she walked in. Storming up to the shared bedroom you started to take your shoes off, wanting nothing more than to just lay down.

“Y/n, what is your actual problem?” Abby walked over to you as she grabbed your arm as gently as she could she needed you to look at her. Abby was big on communication and you weren’t, you both having very different lives that to you communication wasn’t a thing when you were angry, your anger never regulated properly only going from zero to hundred in a matter of seconds.

When you got angry, you weren’t you like someone else stepped into your body and did whatever it took to defend yourself from any pain. “For a fucking Doctor you’re really fucking stupid.” The words spitting out of your mouth were laced with venom, Abby taken aback from the sudden insult “Why are you being so disrespectful?” You laughed at her lack of situational awareness “Wow you’re really stupid Abby, you have the audacity to say im disrespectful when you were basically fucking Leah right in front of me!” Your hands clenched into a tight fist, nails digging into your palms it’s like all your emotions were turned off but anger.

“Calling me stupid isn’t going to make this situation any better, I suggest you fix your attitude then come speak to me.” You knew you pushed her buttons badly, Abby grabbed her pajamas before heading to the guest room but not before slamming the door.

You sat on your bed trying to calm yourself down only failing when you start sobbing into the pillow. Why do you always do this? Always quick to attack before anything else. God she was going to leave you wasn’t she? Abby can’t handle someone like you. You’re too much to handle, this is why you can’t keep a relationship.

Horrible thoughts ran through your head at hundreds miles per hour causing you to sob harder into the pillow, you hated that you couldn’t be normal, why couldn’t you just talk to her?

You decided to change into your pajamas before heading over to the guest room where you saw Abby reading a book, so focused she didn’t notice you by the doorway. “Are you gonna leave me?” You felt the tears form back into your eyes streaming down your face, the swelling and tightness in your throat hurting, you quickly covered your mouth with the back of your hand trying not to sob.

Abby was quick to put the book down, walking over to you to embrace you into her arms, her hand coming to hold the back of your head trying to soothe you. Sobbing into her chest you apologized profusely “I’m so— sorry Abby, I don’t know why I do that.” You managed to say between hiccups and sobs.

“Baby, baby look at me.” She held your face in her hands making you look at her, you saw the expression on her face soften seeing her lover cry like that felt like pins and needles in her heart “I’m not going to leave you, ever. I love you, I just need you to work on communicating with me and I will help you with that. I don’t think you realize how much your words actually hurt.” Her thumbs wiping every tear that fell down your puffed up face.

“Now tell me why you were so angry with me earlier?” Her soft blue orbs never leaving your tear filled eyes. “I just didn’t like how Leah was all over you, she was grabbing your arm and leaning on you, it made me uncomfortable and mad.” She acknowledged every word you said “I’m so sorry I didn’t notice what she was doing, i’ll talk to her about it and it will never happen again, I promise you baby.” She pressed her soft lips against yours, the most gentle kiss she’s ever given you.

“I love you Y/n and I’m going to marry you someday so don’t ever think that I will leave you.” You giggled a little at her marriage comment before you grabbed her face and kissed her deeply.

— 🎧　　 ◦ ✺ 　 📽　 ⟢ —

authors note — i hope this is what u were looking for!! btw i have bpd so everything i wrote is everything i feel when im angry😭

[moonswolfie]

HQ!! Boys with a poet S/O

hey hey hey guess who's back with a super self indulgent piece of shit fic (i am joking, this is my humour)

also let's just say the reader does not write about cute lightearted things (but if you'd like to see a version where the reader writes cute stuff lmk!!)

so, yk TW for implied mental turmoil and an overall angsty hurt/comfort mood for these

Characters featured: Oikawa, Akaashi, Kageyama, Bokuto, Iwa chan

OIKAWA honestly wouldn't believe that those poems were written by you at first. When you excitedly gave him some of your poems to read, he thought they would be cutesy love poems dedicated to him and only him, not this. "What...? Are they bad?" You seemed worried at his wide-eyed expression. "Baby, are you ...okay?" He asked out of the blue, the genuine worry in his tone knocking the wind out of you. "Hahaha, it feels so weird hearing you say that...!" You tried your best to not let any more laughter escape you. "What?! Am I not allowed to be a good boyfriend now?!" He was offended by your reaction, slightly clutching the poems in his hands. "No, it's just... unusual to see you this concerned about me." You said with a half-smile. You had gotten so used to Oikawa's light-hearted flirty attitude, that you sort of forgot just what kind of person he is. "Just what do you think of me?" He sighed, suddenly pulling you in for a hug. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" All you did was nod, feeling relieved that he understands.

AKAASHI 's eyes would widen gradually as he read the contents of your poem. You gave him 5, but he already feels horrible, and he's only on the first one. He almost doesn't want to believe you wrote this. He becomes worried about you, doing a deep analysis on your poem since he wants to understand every part before approaching you with his worries. The next day when you greet him happily, he simply hugs you. "I'm sorry for not noticing..." is all he says, and though it takes you a bit to understand what he means, you feel overwhelmingly relieved he isn't judging you for what happened. "It's okay, I didn't tell you, you couldn't have known..." you assured him, knowing your boyfriend's tendency to overthink, he would beat himself up if you said nothing. "Next time, please please tell me about things like this. I can't stand the thought of you suffering alone." He squeezed you tighter.

KAGEYAMA is confused. Reading and understanding poems was never his strong suit, but yours are especially confusing to him. You laughed a little at his concentration face, and he handed you your poem back, still confused. "What does this even mean...?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed. "Ahaha, don't worry about it too much... I wrote it like that on purpose." You made your poem vague and messy on purpouse, something you knew Kageyama probably couldn't understand properly. Awkward silence filled the room, and Kageyama silently hugged you all of a sudden. "I don't get why, but I got the random urge to hug you just now..." he mumbled silently, squeezing you in his grip. He must have noticed the sadness behind your voice and just doesn't know how to properly comfort you. "You said that out loud, Tobio." You smiled. "Shit..."

BOKUTO 's smile drops suddenly as he reads your poem. When he found you writing it, he insisted that he must read it no matter what. But what in the world was this? Why were you writing about all this sad stuff? "Babe...." his hands trembled slightly as he looked at you while you were smiling as you usually do. "Why would you say that about yourself?" He was very very saddened right now, and you weren't sure who's going to end up comforting who. You felt your bones being crushed in his impulsive hug. "It isn't true!! You're literally the best person I know!! So don't you dare say that again!!" He put his forearm over his eyes, tears stinging at his eyes. He has to be strong for you, he can't cry now. "Kou-" "I've decided! From today on, you're getting complimented every day!! No excuses!!" He looked very determined.

IWAIZUMI understood the content of your poems very well. And it angered him. Why didn't you tell him this happened?! "Idiot." He let the word escape his lips, clutching the paper in his hands. "You should have told me. I would have protected you." He looked to you. You weren't scared since you knew that your boyfriend was genuinely concerned right now, and that was just his way of expressing it. "Dammit, why do you always insist on keeping your problems to yourself..." he pulled you to his side, looking ahead. "I'll tell you next time..." you looked down to the ground. "You better. Or I'll beat you up." He huffed, but you saw the relief flashing in his eyes. He didn't really show it, but somehow, you could tell his heart sank when he read it.

I'm okay :)

[babyhatesreality]

Jellybean seems like an important part of the little ones life so I wonder what they would do if her stuffy gets lost? ☀️🧡

HEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEE

Sooooooo....I'm guessing this ask was made hoping for some major angst, some major tears, and a lot of fluff to even it all out.

My brain thinks different, y'all. Sorry. Hope you enjoy it anyways. I also wanted to make this in-line with another one of my stories, I'm pretty happy with how it fits the world. Thank you for the lovely ask and the opportunity to connect dots <3 <3 <3

*Also- thank you all for your patience- it's been a very turbulent couple of weeks. Hoping to get back into the swing of writing. Thank you!

Careful of your Catchphrase

Pairing: Daddy!Stucky x little f!reader

Warnings: DDLG (SSC), f! reader, reader is named but name scarcely used, pet names, language, touch of paranoid Papa, super overly dramatic reader (like....SO dramatic ugh), reader feeling angsty (to put it lightly), reader thinks bunny has been kidnapped, bless-their-heart-oh-so-dumb men, fluffity fluff fluff fluff.

YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. THIS STORY IS SFW- THE REST OF MY BLOG IS NOT NECESSARILY SO. MINORS DNI. I DO NOT CONSENT FOR MY WORK TO BE STOLEN, COPIED, OR TRANSLATED ONTO ANY OTHER SITE BUT MY OWN. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. 

Steve and Bucky looked at each other, eyes locked in an intense gaze, then simultaneously breathed a huge sigh of relief.

"I can't believe we pulled it off," Steve said, his lungs beginning to work again properly.

"Shit. Why did that scare me more than any other field agent assignment in recent history?" Bucky grumbled, shaking his head.

"Because you love the target this time," Steve replied back with a relieved grin, stroking his husband's cheek affectionately. He felt almost triumphant in their success.

You'd been with them for nearly two months now, having passed your probation period and been given the official blessing. It had been bliss- fantastic, fun, and full of love. Lots of cuddles, lots of silly and sweet play, lots and lots of cookies, all the time.

Then they got a whiff of Jellybean, your most favorite stuffie in the world.

You dragged that bunny everywhere you were allowed to. She slept in your arms at night, she went to all the parties and playdates and picnics, and she was both an excellent tea party companion and a brave soldier in Daddy's army (bunnies are versatile like that).

But just yesterday, you'd been snuggling on Steve's lap while he worked at his desk, Jellybean cuddled close to you. You were feeling littler than normal, and Steve was happy to indulge you. But having that stuffie practically right under his nose made him suddenly aware of just how much dirt, sweat, and who knows what else was lingering in her soft fur. And when you brought Jellybean's ear to your mouth to suck on, Steve nearly had an nervous breakdown. And then, so did you when they tried to take her from you to wash her.

You were in a littler mindset and didn't understand what was happening, couldn't understand their gentle explanations. All you knew was that you WERE NOT letting that bunny go for anything. It had been a rough couple hours with a lot of tears (which freaked them both out) before they gave up, determined to try again tomorrow.

You were about where you normally were regression-wise today, but you still had lingering anxiety about your beloved Jellybean, so she was firmly in your grasp from the moment you woke up. Steve was losing his mind, freaking himself out with the germs and diseases that he'd conjured up in his mind. He became desperate. Not a good look.

They'd waited until they finally got you down for a nap, then they struck. Moving with the precision of two super soldiers in the Temple of Doom, they'd managed to extract Jellybean from under your arm while you were deeply asleep and replace her with Pipsqueak, your second favorite stuffie (who was going to be due for the same treatment soon, but one step at a time). They'd snuck back out, not making a sound, and had gotten Jellybean into the wash on the gentle cycle. The laundry room door was shut so you wouldn't hear.

Success!

*****************************************************

You woke up about twenty minutes later. Normally, you slept for about an hour during nap time, but...something was off. Something felt wrong. And you recognized it the second you looked down. Jellybean wasn't in your arms. On on your bed. Or on the floor. Or in the room.

Disaster!

You launched yourself from your bed, tearing into the living room where Daddy and Papa were watching some movie. They both sat bolt upright when you catapulted yourself into the room, shocked that you were up.

"Baby, what's wrong??" Steve asked, his eyes wide with alarm. Bucky's eyes darted around the room, instantly on the alert for danger.

"JELLYBEAN!!!" was all you could wail before crumpling onto the floor in a heap, sobbing. You felt strong arms pick you up and cradle you, and a set of fingers combing through your hair.

"Sshh, sshh, it's okay Babygirl," Bucky whispered, trying to calm you down.

"NOT OKAY!! Jellybean is GONE!!" you cried into Bucky's teeshirt.

"Oh, honey, she's not gone, she's just taking a little bath right now."

Your tears instantly stopped at Papa's words. You twisted your head to look at him. "She takin' a baf?" you asked, trying to make it all make sense. Papa nodded. You whipped around back to Bucky, and began pushing against his chest. "Down!!"

"Now, hold on a minute, Trouble..."

"DOWN!!"

"Hey, I know you're upset, but-"

"DOWNDOWNDOWNDOWNDOWN!!!!!!!!!"

Completely shocked at his normally well-behaved little girl's tantrum, Bucky's only working instinct was to give you what you wanted. He set you down quickly and you took off for the bathroom. They exchanged a quick look of panic before following you. Just as they were getting to the bathroom door, you nearly barreled them over tearing out of the room towards the other bathroom. They tried calling after you, but you were on a mission and NOTHING was going to stop you.

"I've never seen her freak out like this before," Bucky muttered to Steve while they followed your frantic footsteps.

"I know," Steve whispered back, his anxiety going through the roof. "I had no idea she was going to take it this way. What do we do?"

"Hell if I know." They both stopped talking as you threw yourself back into the hallway, skidding to a halt right in front of them, your eyes crazed.

"She not in the bafroom!!" you shrieked in an accusatory tone. "You said she was takin' a baf!" Before they could even inhale to try to answer you, a brilliant idea came to you. "She YITTLE! She take baf in da sink!!" And you were running like your feet were on fire to the kitchen sink. You looked- and she wasn't there either.

Bucky and Steve caught up to you as you were pacing, thinking so hard you looked like you were trying to solve world hunger. "She can't take baf in dishwasher or washin' machine- she dwown in dere..." you mused to yourself. You didn't see the look of pure horror that Steve and Bucky exchanged. If you realized that they put your precious bunny in the washing machine and drowned her, you would have a major meltdown, or worse- never forgive them. Their attentions jerked back to you as you stopped pacing.

"She been kidnapped!!" you gasped in horror, coming to the only logical conclusion left to you.

"Oh, baby, she's not-"

"JARVIS!!!" you screamed at the top of your lungs to the AI, making Steve and Bucky wince. "NEED TO TALK TO EVERYONE, NOW!!"

"As you wish, Princess."

"No, no, JARVIS, you don't need to-"

"A direct line to the team is open, Princess."

You took the biggest breath you could, and screamed with all your might.

"AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!!!!!!!!!!!"

Steve and Bucky just stood there frozen in shock, jaws on the floor, dumbfounded at your battle cry. They couldn't even find the words to respond.

The silence didn't last for long.

Suddenly, an almighty crash shook the entire apartment. Steve dove for you, his protective instinct taking over, as Bucky jumped in front of both of you. Before you even realized what really happened, you heard loud footsteps thundering down the hallway.

"NONE SHALL SURVIVE THAT HAVE CAUSED HARM TO THIS FAMILY!" Thor roared, dressed in full battle gear, charging into the living room, breathing hard and wielding Mjolnir. He whipped his head around, hammer raised, surveying the territory. When he only found Steve and Bucky frozen in shock and confusion with you desperately squirming to get out of Steve's arms, he lowered his hammer and joined in the looks of confusion. "I...think I may have acted in earnest," he said sheepishly.

"NO!" you wailed, thrashing with all your might. "I need you Unca Thor!! Jellybean been KIDNAPPED!!!"

"Jelly...bean? Someone has taken your colorful sugar candies that are shaped like kidneys?"

"No, Jellybean is my bunny!! She my best friend in da whole world and she GONE!!" you yelled as you wildly twisted in Steve's arms. He finally unlocked his frozen limbs and set you down, and you immediately made a mad dash right for Thor. "We gotta find her!!!"

Thor's confused gaze slowly flicked up to Steve and Bucky. They both frantically pantomimed that the bunny was in the washing machine. Thor nodded in relieved understanding, before smiling down on you. "Not to worry, young one, it seems as though your Jellybean is-"

He suddenly cut himself off when Steve and Bucky wildly shook their heads for him to stop, then silently indicated that you would lose your mind if you knew. Thor stared at them so long with such confusion that you turned around to see what was going on. Bucky immediately started staring around the room, the walls suddenly the most interesting thing he'd ever seen, while Steve gave you one of his hearty Captain America everything-is-fine salutes. You looked at them curiously, but then turned your attention back to Thor. Bucky and Steve frantically resumed their charades, finally making Thor understand that under no circumstances should you be informed of where Jellybean actually was.

"Jellybean is what, Unca Thor?" you asked desperately.

"...Jellybean has...definitely been kidnapped," he finished lamely, unable to come up with another excuse on the fly as Steve facepalmed and Bucky inaudibly groaned. "But I'm sure she'll be returned in...an hour or so?"

Before you could question that, Tony came charging into the room. "Squirt, what's the problem?" he said in a rush, locking eyes with you a split second before taking in the rest of the room and the three other dumbfounded men. His eyebrows constricted as he tried to make sense of the scene. You quickly explained the horrors of your missing bunny, and his eyebrows slowly crept into his hairline as you tripped over your words in your distress. After another round of charades behind your back, Tony was up to speed. He stood up straight, trying to think his way around this one, but only came up with one thing.

"I assume that's why there's a Thor-sized hole in the wall where your front door used to be?" he asked Steve, who turned to Thor in exasperation.

"I was in earnest," Thor explained, shrugging. You stomped your feet, frustrated.

"Unca Tony, we gotta get Jellybean back! I need the 'Vengers to help me!" you pleaded.

"Uhhhh...okay squirt, it's okay," he said, thinking about how Peter would react if his favorite toy went missing. "Why don't we...make sure that she's not in the apartment first? Huh? That's a good idea, right? Of course it is, let's go."

"No, I already look everywhere! She not here!!" you insisted before charging over to him, and holding your arms up. He instantly picked you up, assuming that you wanted comfort, but instead you started pushing on his chest.

"Whatcha doing, honey?" he asked, confused and curious.

"Where's your button that makes your suit go on??" you grumbled as you punched all over his chest. "I KNOW it here somewhere." He would have snickered had you not clearly been so upset.

"I don't think I'm going to need my suit here, kiddo." He nodded sanctimoniously when you gasped in agreement.

"You right! You need money!" He stopped nodding. "In case da kidnappers want me to pay for Jellybean! Can I have a million dollars?"

Tony slow burn glared at Steve. "What the hell are you two letting her watch?" he muttered as they stared at you, once again shocked. You shook your head.

"No, Unca Tony! 'Member you said to Unca Bruce dat you wouldn't pay kidnappers after Pietro broke your record thingy. But dis different. I need a million dollars please." It was Bucky and Steve's turn to glare at Tony, who turned a deep red and set you down quickly.

"Moving right along," he said after clearing his throat. That's when Natasha and Clint came strolling in. Natasha looked around at all the craziness calmly.

"So. What seems to be the trouble here?" she asked you kindly, but the rest of the team could see the hints of the smirk on her lips.

"Aunt Nat, Jellybean is gone!" you wailed, running over to her. "She been kidnapped and I can't find her and the 'Vengers gotta find her please!"

Natasha leaned down just a bit and smoothed your hair away from your face. "Hold on there, honey bunny," she said in her calmest voice. "Take a deep breath for me, okay?" You nodded tearfully, but did as she asked. "Good girl," she praised soothingly. "Tell you what. Can Uncle Clint get you some juice while I talk to your daddies for a minute?"

"But...but we gotta find Jellybean!" you said, your breath catching as you started to get worked up again. "Gotta find her, please!!"

"And we will, I promise," she said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "But I think I need to get some information before we start looking, okay? Can you be a big girl and let Uncle Clint get you some juice please? Then we'll find her, I promise," After another moment and another big breath, you nodded.

"Atta girl," Clint said, scooping you up and taking you to the kitchen. You tearfully explained the whole saga to him while he sat you down on the kitchen island and poured you a sippy cup full of apple juice, nodding seriously as you explained everything. He knew all too well the intense emotions that came with regression, especially when it came to favorite stuffies, and how important it was for caregivers to take your feelings seriously. He was also trying to distract you from the hisses and the whispers of the violent verbal battle happening in the living room behind you.

Your head whipped around when you heard Bucky hiss loudly "Natasha, NO," as Aunt Natasha walked briskly into the kitchen. She gently nudged Clint out of the way and stood in front of you.

"We go find Jellybean now?" you asked her hopefully, your sippy cup still clutched in your hands.

"Jellybean is just fine, sweetheart," she said reassuringly. Your eyes became as round as saucers as you took in her meaning.

"You know where Jellybean is?!" you shrieked, before attempting to launch yourself off the island. Aunt Nat was just as quick as Papa was when you were trying to escape bedtime. She popped you onto her hip and started walking towards the laundry room with 4 anxious and confused men and one snickering one in tow.

"I do know where she is, and she's perfectly okay," Natasha said gently, bouncing you a bit. "I'm going to take you to see her."

"Natasha, don't," Steve said, his teeth gritted, his tone between a command and a plea. You looked over her shoulder at your daddies who appeared to be sweating bullets, but you didn't understand why.

Natasha completely ignored them and marched right into the laundry room, you still firmly on her hip. She pointed to the spinning laundry behind the front loader's door. "Jellybean is right there, baby. She's taking a bath, just like your daddies said she was."

Your eyes filled with tears. "But...but she...what if she dwown?" you asked fearfully, looking at Natasha with large, pleading, watery eyes as the rest of the team, crowded in the doorway, all held their breath in fear.

Natasha brushed your hair away from your eyes again and rubbed her nose against yours. "She won't drown, sweetheart. This is how furry friends take baths. They're special like that. They can breathe just fine in the washing machine, and then after they dry they smell so nice and fresh and clean- just like you do after you take your bath!" Steve and Bucky felt their blood turn to ice in terror, waiting for what they were sure was going to be another meltdown from you.

"Jellybean okay?" you asked again, your eyes darting to the window and back to hers.

"Jellybean is okay, I promise. You wanna see?" Natasha put you down and knelt in front of the window. "It's okay, I promise. Come look," she encouraged. You carefully sat down on the floor next to her, still not sure about this. You suddenly saw hint of soft grey fur slide past the window- that was her!!

You slapped your little hands on the window, desperate for another look at your bunny. "Aunt Nat, you SURE she's okay?" you asked again.

"Very sure. In fact, Buttons took a bath just like this a couple days ago, and Wanda had her yesterday, remember?" Natasha said. "Same thing will happen with Jellybean. She'll be just fine." You thought about it- Wanda did have Buttons the Bear with her last night! And she had been okay!

"Oh. Okay den," you said, suddenly calm as could be. You plopped back down on your butt, scootching backwards to lean up against the wall. "I wait here for her baf to be done. Tank you, Aunt Nat!" You casually sipped on your juice as Steve and Bucky's jaws hit the floor again. How the hell were you so calm now, when five seconds ago you were all headed for World War Three?!

Natasha chuckled and gave you a kiss on the top of your head before turning around and walking out of the room. All the men crowded in the doorway parted to let her pass, except Clint, who had collapsed against the wall, silently laughing at the others' dumbfounded expressions. Natasha turned back to them.

"You all are idiots," she said simply with a smile, before turning and walking out of the Thor shaped hole in the front wall while Clint howled with laughter.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Idk if you're up for writing angsty shit with the prompts, but I got some for you ✨

“I fucking hate you.” “No you don’t. Take that back right now.”

“I want to believe you, but I don’t know if I can.”

“Fuck, you’re such a wreck, and because of me, too.”

“Who’s laughing now?” “…Clearly not you. You’re crying, dear God.”

My thoughts/ideas: Adam was deeply hurt by both his wives (who were made for him) cheating on him with Lucifer, and is scared of being close to people in fear of being left behind again. Luci jokingly saying he hates him after they've been dating for a while (weeks? months? up to you) sets him off really bad, and makes him scared Luci doesn't actually care about him.

You're free to leave out any of the prompts if there's too many, or add more if you want to, I'm just curious to see what you make of this and always love to get some more angsty feels :D

Indigo (loves your writing)

Oooou thank you for this! Feed me with more angsty prompts! 😈

Gotta make that babies suffer lol

"I fucking hate you." It was meant to be a joke, Lucifer thought his tone of voice even conveyed that when he spoke the words. Though, when he turned to look at Adam, his face dropped when he saw the very real hurt on his boyfriends face.

Adam's chest felt tight, like he couldn't breathe. He hated him? They've been dating for six months now and the devil didn't even like him, was he just wasting his time? "No you don't, take it back right now." He voice wobbled and he cursed himself, fuck it shouldn't hurt this bad but it felt like he was just gutted by a few mere words. "I thought, I thought you loved me. Or were those more lies!" Adam didn't have to put up with this.

"I do-, Adam! Adam, come on come back." Lucifer chased after his boyfriend as he stormed away from him. He didn't miss the water that lined those golden eyes. "I'm sorry! It was just a joke. I do love you! Duckie, please."

"Don't you duckie me, asshole!" Adam just had to make it to his room and lock the fucking door. He should have known he was only being used, that he was nothing more than a plaything for the king to throw away when he got bored. A tear fell from his eye and he roughly got rid of it. Fuck, he didn't want to cry. "I should have known you're just a fucking liar!"

Everyone leaves, no one has ever wanted him. He might have said that Lucifer was the most hated being in all of creation, but clearly it was him. All people do is leave and hurt him. How could he have been so fucking stupid to think that maybe, MAYBE, he found a slice of happiness with the devil here in Hell.

Adam grunted as he was pushed into the wall, Lucifer holding him in place by his arms. "I'm not lying! Adam, I do love you I always fucking have."

He's lying, his mind screamed and Adam felt his damn lip quiver. He only wants to fuck you to check it off his list, he knew you'd be easy enough to sway. Then there was the smaller part of him that was whispering under everything. Luci saved your life, of course he loves you.

"I want to believe you, but I don't know if I can." Adam felt so conflicted, after everything they had been through they had managed to hold onto the positives and give dating a shot.

"I shouldn't have said that. I'm eternally sorry. You know I would never leave you right? You're too important to me." Lucifer confessed, he could see the war raging in those beautiful golden eyes. How could he have fucked this up so bad, everything was going great until he said that. He knew Adam had abandonment issues since Eden, hell he's the one that fucking gave them to him!

Adam couldn't stop the onslaught of tears that broke free and rolled down his face. No wonder he hates you, who would want a sniveling little bitch like you? Not a king that's for fucking sure. "Important? Like I've ever meant anything to you!" Adam sobbed his throat closing with emotion. Fuck, he shouldn't be crying!

"You mean everything to me!" Lucifer cupped his face. "Fuck you're such a wreck and because of me too. I'm so sorry."

"Ha! Jokes on you, I was a wreck before all of this! Who's laughing now?"

"Clearly not you, you're crying. Dear god, what have I done?" Lucifer said that last part more to himself. He pulled Adam down into a bruising kiss, he wanted to convey all of his emotions for the sinner in a single kiss.

Adam gasped, he felt his tongue enter his mouth, a hand in his hair keeping him in place. Against his better judgement, Adam melted into the kiss returning it, his hands gripping the king's shoulders. His heart fluttered when he felt himself get picked up, his legs instantly wrapped around his boyfriends waist.

The cruel voice in his head died away.

When the kiss ended, Adam was panting as he looked into those red and yellow eyes glowing bright, boring into his own. Fuck he loved him. The devil was going to be the untilmate death of him, to shatter his heart and put it back together again over and over.

And Adam would let him. Like an idiot.

"I love you so much, Adam. Let me make it up to you." Lucifer never wanted to hurt him. He would fight all of Heaven and Hell if it meant they could be together.

Another tear fell. "How?" Another kiss pressed to his lips, more after that. The king was a drug Adam didn't want to quit.

"How about we go see that movie you wanted? And then, we can get dinner at that new meat place across town. We could even go to the mall and I could get you that guitar you've had your eyes on. Maybe do more shopping after? Anything you want, darling." He placed another kiss on Adams lips and smiled when he got one back. "I never want you to doubt my love for you again. I love you, duckie."

Adam smiled, his heart was doing flips and his stomach full of butterflies. "I love you too, Luci."

"What do you say? Does that sound good, would you like to do that?"

How could Adam turn it down? "Okay."