#a few typos that i left in bc i felt like it

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ sober thoughts ] n. hischier

paring: Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary : Nico appears on his best friend’s doorstep after the Stadium Series win and confessions are made

warning(s) : slightly drunk nico, mentions of alcohol (but no actual alcohol consumption involved)

author’s note : pls ignore any typos bc i thought of this while drunk and wrote it while tipsy so i will go back and edit when i am 100% sober. it’s a v short and cute thing that i wanted to write (even tho i am working on like 7 different requests rn)

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The moment ‘nico ���🤍’ appears on her phone screen, she thinks something is wrong. She’s especially worried because it’s nearly two in the morning. Something could be seriously wrong.

The last time they talked, Nico was getting in an Uber to go to the bar after they won the Stadium Series game against the Flyers. That was a half hour after the end of the game and nearly three hours ago at this point.

A very exhausted and confused (Y/N) quickly answers the phone as soon as she processes what’s going on.

“Are you okay?” she asks, voice slurred with sleep. “Do I need to come get you from the bar?”

“I’m outside your apartment building,” he tells her. “Can I please come inside? It’s so cold outside and I just played a game in this weather. Please let me in.”

She rolls over and turns on her bedside lamp before she walks to the window. Outside on the sidewalk stands her best friend and captain of the New Jersey Devils. He smiles up at her and waves. “Oh my God,” she gasps as she puts on a pair of slippers. “Why are you just standing outside my building like that?”

“Because I missed you and wanted to see you,” he tells her as she grabs her keys and leaves her apartment. “It felt very wrong that I wasn’t celebrating with my best friend after one of the most amazing games and one of the most beautiful moments of my career. If I woke you up, I’m sorry.”

Without tripping down any stairs, she says, “It’s okay. I was just worried you were passed out on the side of the road in East Rutherford.” She pushes the main entrance door open. “Yet here you are on my doorstep.”

Nico smiles and stumbles up the steps after he hangs up the phone when he sees her. He trips on the last step. She catches him and he catches himself on the doorway. She can smell the alcohol on his breath because of how close they are to each other, yet her heart races in her chest since they’re so close to each other.

“Are you drunk?” she asks as she backs away from him with a look on her face. “How did you get here? Don’t tell me you drove because I might kill you and your team is going to be left without a captain.”

“I’ve had a few drinks,” he admits to her. “I took an Uber because I did have a few drinks. I didn’t drive here. Don’t worry. I still have brain cells.”

Nico walks into the building in a hoodie and jeans instead of the tracksuit he showed up to MetLife in. She’s happy he is in actual clothes because if he showed up in that tracksuit, she might lose it.

“Why did you come here instead of going home?” she questions as they make their way up to her apartment. “I thought that maybe after the game you’d celebrate with your teammates then go home to sleep.”

They walk into the apartment as soon as she unlocks the door. “I told you that I wanted to come celebrate with my best friend,” he replies. She closes the door behind her. “Especially since I couldn’t get you into the stadium to watch the game. I wanted you to be a part of this day.”

She pouts and sits on the couch as Nico turns on one of the lamps. “Your family flew in for the game,” she says to him. “I shouldn’t take priority over them. I get to see you play all the time. They don’t.”

He sits next to her. Not too close but close enough where she can feel the heat coming off his body. If he were to move his knee, it would bump into hers.

“You’re my family too,” Nico softly says. “I wanted you to be there.”

“I’m your friend, Nico,” she sighs. “I’m not your girlfriend or your wife. I didn’t need to be there.”

It feels like she is trying to convince herself too because sometimes the line blurs. Sometimes she doesn’t know what she is to him. She has to remind herself that they aren’t together, and probably will never be together.

A moment of silence falls over them. She looks at her hands on her lap while she plays with her thumbs. Nico’s big brown eyes never leave her while she avoids looking at him.

Nico sighs and practically whispers, “I wished you were there as my girlfriend.”

Her head snaps up and she blinks at him. “You what?”

“I wished you were at the game as my girlfriend,” Nico repeats. “The entire time I wished that you were at the family skate and sitting in the suite with everyone else’s families. I wished you had one of those cute jackets that the wives and girlfriends had with my number on it.”

She stares at him until he’s done talking. Then she starts to shake her head. “You’re just saying that because you have been drinking,” she replies. “You don’t actually mean that.”

Never once has Nico shown that he wanted to be in any kind of romantic relationship with her. He’s never given her any kind of hint or sign that he wanted to be more than just friends with her.

They’ve known each other since Nico moved to the US in 2017 to play in the NHL and never once did it seem like he wanted something more.

There is no way he means that.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” he says.

“Then tell me when you’re sober,” she retorts. “Tell me in the morning if you actually mean it.”

Nico frowns and brushes a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Schätzli, you have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that,” he tells her. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until I wake up before I tell you again.”

Almost as if on cue, he yawns. “Go to sleep, Nico,” she says to him. “Tell me whatever you want in the morning. You know where the guest room is but do you need my help in getting there?”

He shakes his head and sinks down against the back of the couch. “I’ll get there eventually,” he replies. “You can go back to sleep.”

With a nod, she stands up. Nico’s eyes are half open so she takes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the cushions. She grabs a blanket to throw over him as he lets out soft snores. The alcohol has finally caught up to him and knocked him out.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear you say that you wanted me to be your girlfriend,” she whispers to a sleeping Nico. “All it took you was having a few drinks and winning a big game before you told me how you felt.”

She presses a soft kiss to his temple before she retreats down the hallway to her bedroom just in case he wasn’t actually asleep.

✧���ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The smell of coffee is the thing that wakes her up in the morning. Not the sunlight or an alarm. Coffee. It takes a second before she remembers that Nico stayed over.

She remembers Nico telling her that he wishes she was at the Stadium Series game as his girlfriend. She has no idea if he remembers that he said that to her.

It’s time to find out.

Slowly, she makes her way out to the kitchen. She finds Nico standing at the coffee machine with his back to the hallway. She yawns and walks into the kitchen area.

“Morning,” she softly says so she doesn’t scare him. He turns his head and looks at her. “You making coffee?”

Nico nods and pours them both a cup. He puts cream in her cup and hands it to her. “I figured we could both use a cup,” he tells her. “Me to get rid of this hangover and you because I woke you up at two in the morning.”

She blows on her coffee before taking a sip. “How much of last night do you remember?” she curiously asks as she leans against the counter beside him.

The moment of silence that follows worries her. He probably doesn’t remember what he said, and she isnt going to remind him if he doesn’t remember.

He takes a sip of his own coffee before he asks, “Are you asking me if I remember telling you that I wish you were my girlfriend? Yes, if that’s the case. I told you that I meant it.”

“And you’re sober?”

“Very,” Nico replies. “And very hungover.”

It surprises her to the point where she almost drops her cup of coffee. Her eyes widen and Nico smiles. “Nico, I could kill you and kiss you at the same time because why did it take you playing in one of the biggest games in your career before you-”

Nico takes the cup of coffee out of her hand while she’s talking then cuts her off by bringing his lips to hers. She gasps in surprise then melts against him as he presses her against the counter. She wraps her arms around his neck and puts her fingers in his hair so he can’t break the kiss.

Never in her life did she think that she would be in her kitchen kissing her best friend of nearly seven years. The thought only occurred in dreams and occasionally during games when she found him attractive, which is really all the time.

This is something she has wanted for two years. Since the moment she realized that she was in love with Nico.

He lifts her up and sits her down on the counter. He stands between her knees and rests his hands on her thighs.

It becomes too much for her and she has to pull back for a second to breathe. Her eyes meet his and finds worry in them. “I just- I don’t think you understand how long I have waited for this,” she breathes out. “Wanted this. Wanted you. I just need a second.”

Nico smiles and pushes her hair behind her ears before he cups her jaw. “I’m such an idiot for waiting so long before I told you,” he replies. “I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you, Schätzli.” His voice drops to nearly a whisper and his thumbs brush her cheekbones.

“We’re both idiots,” she tells him. “I’m glad you meant it though. I thought you were going to get my hopes up.”

He shakes his head and kisses her nose. “I would never lie to you about loving you.”

“Well I love you too,” she says. “Just so you know.”

Nico laughs and envelopes her in a hug. She smiles and happily accepts the hug.

“I told you that drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“I believe you now.”

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MASTERLIST

have a request ? check out the guidelines !

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taglist : @dasiysthings @ithinkimokeei @equallyshaw @dancerbailey3 @love4lando @stony1386 @mangoluver @prettyinsatiable

[thehighladywrites]

The Airhead chronicles

…and the run-in.

-> Pairing: Cassian x bimbo/ditzy reader

-> Summary: suggestive themes, cassian getting bricked up bc reader is super cute, reader being an absolute sweetheart, daddy cassian radiating big dick energy. cassian runs into you while he runs errands, peaking his curiosity. he’s determined to find out more about his mysterious mate. what were you doing in velaris and how the hell did she have a house in the most fancy and exclusive neighborhood? cassian himself had been on the waiting list for over 60 years… he asks her out on a date to find out more.

-> Author’s note: This one is my favorite so far, I’m trying to build a mysterious air around reader bc she might not be bright but best believe she’s a baddie. Also if you see any typos, no you didn’t

Part one Part three

Cassian was going insane.

He only knew your name and where you lived and it wasn’t enough. He wanted to know everything about you. What made you smile, cry, laugh, pissed off. What kind of food you like, your favorite color - He wanted to know you inside and out.

Your little kiss had left him with a thundering heart and a hard cock. It was a wonder that he didn’t break down your door and storm in just to be in your presence for a few seconds.

He almost felt embarrassed as he stood behind a building, watching you enter the coffee shop across Feyre’s art studio. Cassian wasn’t stalking you or anything, he genuinely happened to spot you strolling through the streets while he was running errands. Panic took over and his first insight was to hide.

The streets of Velaris echoed with the enchanting click of your 5-inch, black platform heels, announcing your arrival. You had such a light around you, smiling at strangers and kids. Your outfit, showcasing a black, sexy yet sophisticated skirt paired with a white top, black sheer tights, and a maroon bag thrown over your shoulder, exuded a captivating sense of style. The only reminiscent element of your previous style Cassian saw that night, was the attention-grabbing almost stripper heels.

Your unconventional fashion choice, though beautiful, set you apart from the usual attire of Night Court women, revealing that you were not a native of this place. What brought you to Velaris? Cassian pondered if your stylish yet professional outfit hinted at a specific job or occupation.

Decided that he wanted some answers, he made his way to the coffee shop. His ears picked up on your sweet voice as it was heard throughout the shop.

“Hi, how are you? Can i please have a caramel latte with extra caramel and whipped cream on top? Okay, thank you!!” You had your hands behind your arms as you hummed a little song. The ring of the door bell caught your attention as you whipped your head to the door, your freshly styled hair swaying. Your heart started beating faster as you saw who walked through the door. Letting out a shriek, you threw yourself in Cassians arms as you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle. “ Hi Cassie!! Whatcha doin here?” His hands tightened around your waist as he smelled your intoxicating perfume when you pressed your soft body against his hard one.

“ Hi there, darling. I was just walking around town and decided to stop for some coffee. What are you doing?” He flipped the question, praying that you wouldn’t sense his lie. Curiously, Cassian also wondered about your destination as you appeared business-ready and on the move. The barista called your name and you skipped over to get your sweet drink. It was honestly a wonder your teeth hadn’t rotted away, you loved eating sweet things. “ I’m just getting a little something to drink. Um, actually, can you hold my drink, I just need to get my money out.” Your painted lips had a cute pout as your brows furrowed in concentration, pulling out your money. “Nonsense, I’ll pay for your drink, since I owe you one, remember.” You looked up at him with big eyes. “ Thanks Cassie, you’re such a nice guy!” He merely laughed, “Paying for a lady’s drink is a standard courtesy, sweetheart.” You smiled and sipped on your drink, blushing furiously.

Oh, he looked so good today. Perhaps because it was night, you didn’t see his face clearly, because he was looking a million times hotter than he did thst night. So ruggedly handsome and manly, ugh you were totally turning into mush…

After paying for your drinks and ordering his own, he opened the door for you and offered you his elbow but you opted to grip his bicep instead. Your stomach flipped as you felt the hard muscle ripple with each step. Wow, he must work out like everyday to look like this. “ Wanna taste my drink, Cassie?” you offered as you pushed the hot drink in his face.

He didn’t have it in him to tell you that he absolutely didn’t drink sweet drinks, in fact he hated them. It was too much sugar and he always stuck to his strict routine and food habits, and you had ordered not only a caramel latte, it was also one with extra caramel and whipped cream on top. Basically death in a cup, a stark contrast from his black coffee.

But Cassian took one look at you and folded. Your eyes had hope in them and he’d rather have his wings shredded than kill that shine. “ Sure, I’ll have some, pretty. “

It was an effort not to make a face as the sickly sweet drink hit his tongue but you seemed so happy and he’d drink the whole thing with no complaints if you’d ask him. Your giggles brought him back from his thoughts as he looked at you curiously.

“Whatcha laughing at? Something on my face?”

You flashed him an adorable smile and said,

” You got some of my lipgloss on your lips, just give me ooooone second. There we go! You looked so silly!” He froze when you took your thumb and wiped away the gloss on his soft lips. His legs felt like jelly when you just grabbed his bicep and dragged him along, telling him about your plans for the day.

Man, you were going to be the death of him.

“You have everything? Or is there something else you need, sweetheart?” Gods, you wanted to plant a fat kiss right ln his lips. Would that be wrong? No, of course not!! Hmm… Maybe at the end of the shopping spree? “ Mhm, I have everything, Cassie,” you coo’d gently, watching as his arms bulged from carrying so many bags.

He had spent the entire day with you, bouncing from store to store. He absolutely didn’t let you pay, insisting that you’d never pay for a single thing in his presence. Carrying your bags was out of the question aswell, he told you to just look pretty and grab his arm, which you didn’t say no to. Finally he escorted you home again, and this time he truly payed attention to where you lived. You lived in a massive townhouse in the nicest neighborhood of Velaris, he was curious on how you managed to snag something like this. These neighborhoods had been incredibly difficult to find houses in, let alone such a fine house such as your own. It made him wonder what you worked with or if you had inherited it somehow.

There was a mysterious air surrounding you that he was just dying to find out about. In his eyes, you were something of a puzzle that needed solving. He recognized the hypocrisy of his statement as he also hadn’t told you much about himself, but he could feel it in his bones that there was more to you.

No, he couldn’t let this be, Cassian wanted to get to know his mate, so he asked you out.

“ Go on a date with me, Y/n. Does tomorrow work for you?” You tilted your head and meekly told him something that made him smile.

”Yay, that sounds so much fun, I’ll be wearing something pink. Hmm, or maybe green… No, no definitely pink! What heels should I wear though?… “ Cassian felt his heart beating faster as his cheeks heated. You stood infront of your stairs as you pondered over what hairstyle you were going to pick.

He stepped closer, towering over you as you felt his heat radiating from his chest. “I’ll pick you up at 8, be ready by then sweetheart.” Cassian was hit by deja vu as you once again stood on your tippy toes and gave his cheek a kiss, leaving a lipstain print on his cheek. “ Can’t wait, Cassie!! See you tomorrow.”

He gave your forehead a kiss, right by your hairline as he got a wiff of your shampoo. You smelt heavenly and he didn’t want to let you go. But it was only until tomorrow evening and if he didn’t have the power to wait until then, then he had some serious issues. “ It’s a date then, pretty girl.” He watched as you smiled at him before skipping inside and locking your door.

Cassian felt your excitement through the bond, and felt happier than he had in a long time. He simply couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hello, i love your work!

Could i make a request? If yes here is the idea:

Bucky x NavyPilot!female!reader, where she takes him to a ride, maybe an hangar smutty and fluff bc he is scared and amazed of his girlfriend skills.

Thank you so much! 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

Aircraft Fun » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend/Navy Pilot!Reader

Summary: Y/N takes Bucky for a ride in a Navy aircraft and they have a little fun of their own afterwards.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, riding, praise kink, use of pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also I’d like the apologize for taking so long to get to your request🩷

A/N #2: Please bare with me, I don’t know much about Navy Pilots so I apologize if I get anything wrong. Also I imagined Bucky with his long hair in Civil War for this.

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for anything mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Are you having fun?” You asked, glancing at your boyfriend who’s holding on to the handlebars for the life of him.

“Yes.” Bucky kept his eyes focused on what’s in front of him. “Please watch what you’re doing.” He says.

“I’ve done this many times, babe. You have absolutely nothing to worry about.” You say.

Bucky looks over at you, watching as you adjusted the controls and steered the aircraft before looking out the window in front of him. He’s never been this amazed in his life.

“You know…” Bucky admires the scenery in front of him. “It’s beautiful up here.” He says.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you, baby!” You say.

“It’s not as beautiful as you.” He says, looking at you.

A smile grew on your face and blush covered your cheeks.

“Stop making me blush.” You giggled. “I’m flying an aircraft.” You say.

“I’m not doing anything, doll.” Bucky grins. “I’m just admiring my beautiful girlfriend and her amazing skills.” He says in a flirty tone.

Bucky didn’t miss the way you shifted in your seat.

“How about you land this thing and we can have fun back there?” Bucky suggests with a smirk, motioning to the back of the aircraft behind the seats.

“You read my mind.” You say.

You safely flew the two of you back to the base and safely landed. Bucky continued to watch in amazement. You made sure everything was off before following Bucky to the back of the aircraft. He took a seat on the bench seat, pulling you onto his lap. You kissed Bucky hungrily, cupping his scruffy cheeks to intensify the kiss. Bucky’s hands found their way to your hips, moving you against him. You moaned against his lips when you felt his bulge rubbing against your panty covered pussy. “Good thing I wore a skirt today.” You thought to yourself. You and Bucky pulled away from each other, looking deep in each other’s eyes before Bucky latched his lips on your neck, his teeth bit down on your skin hard enough to mark you up. His right hand left your hip and found its way underneath your skirt, rubbing your pussy through your wet panties.

“Is all of this for me, babydoll?” Bucky asks.

“It’s always for you, Bucky.” You say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access.

Bucky moved your panties to the side, his middle finger rubbing in between your folds to your clit, making you whine.

“Bucky please!” You begged.

“Tell me what you want, doll.” He says, continuing to mark up your neck.

“You cock.” You squeaked when his teeth nipped at your skin. “I want your cock.” You say.

“You know how to get what you want, doll face.” He says.

Bucky watched as you eagerly unbuckled his belt and undid his jeans, pulling his hard cock out of his boxers. You pumped it in your hand a few times, using his precum as a lubricant before lifting yourself up and lined his cock at your entrance. A relieved moan left yours and Bucky’s lips when you finally sunk down on his cock. You kissed his lips, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his size. You rose yourself up till his tip was only left inside of you and went back down. You put your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself while Bucky’s hands found their place on your hips, helping you ride him.

“You look so pretty like this, babydoll.” Bucky breathes, looking down at where the two of you are connected and watched as his cock disappeared inside of you, covered in your wetness.

You tilted your head back, moaning in pleasure. You felt every vein of his cock rubbing along your walls. Bucky was obsessed with the way your pussy felt around his cock, loving the way your pussy squeezed around his cock.

“I fucking missed you.” Bucky moans.

“I missed you too.” You moaned.

You rolled your hips against his, the perfectly trimmed hair on the base of his cock rubbed against your clit.

“It’s been a while.” He pants. “And you’re still a good girl for me.” He praises.

You moaned when he called you a good girl. You love it when he praises you.

“You like that?” He asks. “You like it when I call you a good girl?” He says.

“I’m your good girl.” You say, followed by a moan.

“That’s right, babydoll. You are my good girl.” He says.

Bucky’s hands left your hips and found your way to your ass cheeks, giving them a squeeze before slamming you down on his cock. You moaned out loudly. The smell of sex filled the aircraft.

“Oh Bucky!” You moaned loudly.

“Keep moaning my name.” Bucky says.

“Bucky!” You moaned when he thrusted up into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot. “Oh yes! Right there!” You moaned loudly.

Bucky’s arms left your ass and he wrapped his arms around your waist and stood up, maneuvering the two of you with his cock still inside of you. He gently laid you down on the bend seat. He spread your legs further apart and began fucking you faster. Your lips parted, moans and whimpers left your lips. Bucky’s hands found their way under your shirt, sliding them up sides and stopping just below your breasts. He slid his hands underneath your bra and gave them a squeeze.

“Fuck… you’re so beautiful.” Bucky says, panting.

You arched your back in pleasure, giving Bucky a new angle to hit your sweet spot. His right hand left your breast and went down to your clit, rubbing it in circles. Your orgasm began to build up quickly, along with his.

“I know you’re about to cum, babydoll.” He pants. “Cum for me. I’m right there with you.” He says.

A loud moan of his name left your lips as you came. Bucky came inside of you not too long after you came. His thrusts came to a slow stop. He slowly pulled his cock out of your pussy, making you whine at the empty feeling. He readjusted your panties and put his cock back in his boxers, buttoning and zipping up his jeans and buckled his belt. You two took a moment to yourselves before getting off the aircraft. Bucky kissed your lips sweetly while his hands found their way to your ass and shamelessly squeezing them causing you to gasp against his lips.

“Bucky!” You gasped, playfully smacking his hands away from your ass.

“You know you love it.” He smirks.

“I do.” You giggled. “But I love you more though.” You say softly.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky says smiling and kissed you once more.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[neewtmas]

Maybe You’re The Idiot

A/N: if I’m honest, I’m not really sure if I like this. it kind of feels all over the place, and I realised again that I’m not the best at writing enemies to lovers or kissing scenes lol if there are any typos, it’s bc it’s 5 am. @ the anon who requested, thank you so much, I hope you enjoy!

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.4k

request:  I love everything you’ve written, I often go back to reread and I can’t get enough! So thank you for your works <3 if you can and are willing I have this in mind: George karim x fem!reader who’s joined l&co for a bit but George still hasn’t warmed up to her and she’s trying to prove herself to them to the point of recklessness. Lockwood Lucy who have been playing mediators and peacemaker are fed up with their arguing, claiming they would get along very well if they actually tried. They set them up so they can resolve their rivalry (prob forced proximity with them having to team up for a small mission) but first time is a disaster and from that you’re free to ddo whatever you like - by anon

taglist: @maraschinomerry @marinalor @oblivious-idiot @thedonutdeliverygirl​ (if you wanna be added/removed, just send me an ask :))

masterlist

The house was silent. It was a heavy silence, definitely supernatural. The sun had gone down a few hours ago, and ever since then, darkness had crept stealthily into every room. In stark contrast to the eery atmosphere in the rest of the residence, the kitchen was like a small island of warmth and comfort amidst a sea of dark unknowns. In the centre of the kitchen table stood an oil lamp, its yellowy flame flickering. Any conversation had long since died down, and now it was just a waiting game. Y/N was tapping her fingers on the wooden surface in irregular patterns, glancing at her watch every few seconds. She was nervous about what the night would bring.

“Could you stop!” George snapped, glaring at her and she jumped, immediately taking her hands off the table. “God, you drive me crazy”, he muttered. Y/N straightened up. “What is your problem?”, she asked, exasperated. George had yet to say a single nice word to her, even after several weeks of them working together. If he wasn’t ignoring her entirely, it was all sarcastic remarks or snide comments about her abilities as an agent. She hated how he could make her feel so small and stupid by just looking at her. She got along just fine with Lockwood and Lucy and just wished that George would finally accept her. “I don’t have a problem”, George shot back, crossing his arms and looking at her provocatively. "But maybe you do." She was just about to throw some snarky comment back at him when Lockwood interrupted. "That's enough", he said sharply. "It's nearing midnight and we need to stay alert. Can't have you two squabbling in the background."

Y/N stayed close to Lucy as they left the kitchen a few minutes later, rapiers hanging from their belts, tool kits slung over their torsos. The old lady that hired them tonight had described how her grandchildren had started avoiding the living room, and how the youngest, still a toddler, had cried incessantly whenever anyone would bring him near. She hadn’t noticed anything, but that wasn’t unusual at her age. They had checked the entire house, but as expected, the living room was the only spot with any abnormal phenomena. Lucy had reported some distant whispering, and all of them had felt the heavy atmosphere.

George set down the duffle bag with the chains and went back to the kitchen. Y/N started unfurling the metal and laying it out in the space between in a circle.

“Why don’t you bang them around a bit louder, Y/N? I don’t think the neighbours three houses down heard you yet.”

She turned around swiftly at the sound of George’s mocking voice. “Why don’t you do it yourself then? If you know everything better?” She dropped the end of the chain she was holding and the sound echoed through the room. Lucy rolled her eyes. “Just leave her alone for once, George.”

The temperature had dropped significantly, and miasma was creeping up on everyone. Lucy handed out some chewing gum, and then they stood inside the iron circle, waiting for the apparition to manifest.

Just a few minutes after the old grandfather clock in the hallway had chimed midnight, Lucy reported an increase in the whispering and all four of them watched the corner she had located it in. Y/N had the best sight out of all of them, and so she was the first to make out the shape of a young man. "He's here", she whispered as the ghost drew nearer, feet submerged in the carpet, his outline getting clearer the closer he came. 

"He appeared right next to the cabinet. I bet the source is somewhere in there." "What does he look like?" Lockwood asked, sunglasses perched on his nose. "His death glow is suddenly really bright." 

Y/N studied the face of the ghost, a cold shiver running down her spine as she gazed into the black abyss that was once his eyes. "Early thirties maybe. He's wearing a suit, but no tie." 

"I don't get much from him", Lucy chimed in. "Just that he is angry." 

"I'll run over to the cabinet and secure the source", Y/N said and was about to step over the chains on the ground, when George grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her back so that she stumbled against him. "Have you lost your mind?", he hissed. "You have no idea if the source is even there!" She tried to shake off his arm and snapped at him. "Oh shut up, George. Do you have any better ideas?" "No, but that doesn't mean I just run out of a secured area without any preparation and precaution like an idiot -"

That was the last straw. Y/N yanked her arm out of his grip and leapt over the chains, rushing towards the cabinet. The ghost lurched in her direction and she made a few quick motions with her rapier, causing it to draw back. She sprinted over to the cabinet, dropped to her knees in front of it, and started tearing open the compartments. Behind her, a vase got picked up by the supernatural wind that surged through the room, crashed to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. 

Someone was yelling her name, and suddenly George was next to her, wildly swinging his rapier over her head. The last drawer was stuck and she pulled on it with every bit of strength she could muster, until suddenly it came loose, sending her flying back and right into George. He cursed loudly as he fell over. They were now sprawled on the ground, tangled together in a pile of limbs unable to move and suddenly the ghost of the young man was above them. His face was pulled into a horrific, grotesque display of pure wrath as he plummeted down on them. Y/N screamed and tried to pull out her rapier from underneath her in a last desperate attempt when from one moment to another, the ghost disappeared. 

The screaming wind died down immediately and all that stayed was a violent ringing in her ears as George untangled himself from her and stood up, dusting himself off. He did not offer her his hand, he didn't even give her so much as a single glance before he stomped out of the room. Lucy kneeled next to her, a crumpled-up silver net in her hand. "Are you okay, Y/N?" she asked, taking her hand and helping her up. Y/N nodded weakly. That could have gone terribly wrong. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The taxi ride home was awkward, to say the least. No one was saying a word, Lockwood looked out the window with his lips pressed together in a thin line the entire time, Y/N had her gaze lowered to her hands in her lap. She could tell Lockwood was angry. She looked over to George once, but when she found him already looking at her with an undefinable expression on his face, she quickly averted her eyes. The last thing she needed was another comment from George. 

Back in 35 Portland Row, Lockwood was pacing up and down in front of them in the kitchen, lips still pressed together, wringing his hands. The atmosphere was tense, no one dared to say a word in fear he would explode at even the slightest disturbance. Finally, he turned to George and Y/N, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’ve had more than enough of your stupid, childish antics. You’re disrupting our work as a team and -”

“It wasn't my -” George quipped up, but Lockwood silenced him with a motion of his hand. “No! I don’t care! I don’t care whose fault it was or was not, I don’t care!” His voice got louder towards the end, clearly more than fed up. George seemed like he wanted to say something, but decided against it.

Lockwood continued, trying hard to keep his voice calm. “We are a team. And we need to be able to rely on each other, or else we all could end up dead. Do you understand that?”

Both George and Y/N nodded reluctantly, carefully avoiding even looking in each other's direction.

“Tonight was a disaster, and as much as I'd like to right now, I won’t fire either of you. You have two options: You learn to get along or you both quit. End of discussion.” Without another word, he left the kitchen, Lucy following him close behind.

Y/N and George sat on their respective chairs like two school children that just got scolded, Lockwood’s anger and what he had said still hanging heavy in the air.

George exhaled and broke the silence. “He’s right, you know? Maybe if you hadn’t been so stupid -” Y/N immediately jumped up, balling her fists. “Stupid? Me?” George also rose from his seat, making a few quick steps toward her and jabbing his finger into her chest. His eyes behind his glasses were narrowed as he spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, stupid. You almost got yourself killed back there, Y/N. Killed. Do you understand what that means?”

For a moment she was overwhelmed by how close he was, but then she pushed him back by his shoulders and he stumbled. “Guess what George? I do! But it’s not like you’d care anyways, so why does it matter to you?”

She didn’t give him a chance to reply and stormed out of the kitchen. He stood there, hand raised and her name on his lips, but she was already gone.

The next morning, Y/N entered the kitchen and was surprised to see everyone already sitting at the table. Lockwood's expression was unreadable, Lucy was smiling in a way that made Y/N worried for what was to come, and George sat slouched on his chair and looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but here. "Sit down, Y/N", Lockwood said and pointed to the last empty chair right next to George. He huffed as Y/N dragged it over the floor to sit as far away from him as possible. "This is an intervention", Lockwood began as soon as she sat. Oh no. "This -" he gestured towards the space between George and Y/N, "can't go on. Tonight, you two go on a case. Together. Just the two of you." 

Y/N stared at him in disbelief, then buried her face in her hands with a sigh. He couldn't be serious. 

"Great idea Lockwood. She's probably gonna get us both killed", George scoffed, crossing his arms as he leaned back. "I don't care. If you gave each other a chance, I think you would get along just fine." 

Lucy leaned forward, a sly smile on her lips. "Actually, I think you'd get along very, very well." 

George scoffed louder, furrowing his brows. "I hope you're not implying what I think you're implying, Lucy." She smirked at him and shrugged. "That's for you to decide, George. Maybe you have some time to think about it tonight."

Y/N looked back and forth between them, and she could feel heat creep up her cheeks. What were they on about? What was Lucy implying?

After dinner, which was spent in tense silence, Lockwood and Lucy set off to their case of the night, leaving Y/n and George behind. This was the first time since Y/n had started working at Lockwood & Co that they were alone. They left the house and climbed into the cab that was waiting at the corner. LISA stared out of the window and watched the rows of houses pass by in the dusk. Many had brightly lit windows and she caught some glimpses of the people that lived there - someone cooking dinner, another person dancing through their living room - and she felt a sense of profound sadness wash over her. When she stepped into 35 Portland Row for the first time, she felt at home immediately. After some rather unpleasant experiences in other smaller agencies, she had been apprehensive about even applying, but it was her last viable option. Lucy and Lockwood had made her feel welcome immediately, and George... well George, after ignoring her for a while, became less welcoming by the day. Lucy had warned her that he could be somewhat stand-offish, but that he would warm up to her quickly, even reassuring her that he'd been the same with her. But he hadn't warmed up at all. She had no idea what she did to make him feel that way, but by now it was glaringly obvious that he could not stand her. 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

When they arrived at their destination, a somewhat run-down apartment building, George grabbed their bag, jumped out of the cab and sped-walked to the entrance, not looking behind him to check if Y/N was following him. For a second she contemplated just telling the cabdriver to take her back to Portland Row, but then she decided against it. No reason to make George hate her even more. 

They entered the elevator, which had seen better days, and stood silently as it made its way up. Y/N stared at her ectoplasm-stained boots in the blotchy mirror, and when she raised her head, she caught George looking at her through the reflection, but he quickly looked away. That was something he did a lot. He never talked to her except with snide comments when she did something he deemed stupid, but she lost count of how often she had caught him looking at her. It made her feel self-conscious in the worst way.

The elevator dinged and they stepped out onto a dimly lit hallway, the few lamps on the ceiling flickering ominously. "Apartment 386", George said curtly and turned to the left. Y/N stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket and threw a glance at the hallway behind her before she quickly followed him. He maybe wasn't very pleasant company, but at least she felt safer than if she were alone. 

He didn't wait for her to catch up before he knocked at the door of apartment 386. Just when she came to a halt next to him, the door opened and revealed a small, elderly woman. She smiled brightly as she saw their rapiers and the bag George was carrying. "You must be Lockwood & Co" she exclaimed and opened the door wider. "Come in! I prepared some tea." Y/N looked over to George, who glanced at her and then followed the woman into her apartment. 

It was decorated exactly in the way one would imagine an old lady decorating her living space. Lots of floral patterns, old furniture, and everything looking somewhat dated. On a dresser in the living room stood several picture frames that showed the woman with what was either her son or her daughter, their spouse and two small children that smiled happily into the camera. 

On the dark wooden table in the kitchen, the woman had prepared a steaming kettle of tea, several cups and a heaping plate of biscuits. She gestured to the chairs and scurried back into the kitchen. "Please sit down", she called and when she came back, she was holding a little porcelain box that she put down on the table. "I'm Violet", she introduced herself, smiling. She seemed elated at the thought of Y/N and George keeping her company. 

"So you're Lockwood?" she asked George after he reluctantly sat down on one of the chairs, the pink rose pattern of the upholstery clashing horribly with the orange of his jacket. He opened his mouth but had no chance to get even a single word in because Violet just kept talking. 

"And the delightful young lady?" She set a cup of steaming tea in front of Y/N. "Is that your girlfriend? That's just lovely. You know, I find it horrible that you young folks have to risk your lives every day, it's nice to see that you make the best of it. My grandson is part of an agency as well. Not as small as yours, but also not one of the big ones. Sometimes I don't know what to think of that, but -"

Violet kept talking as she gave George his cup of tea, but Y/N wasn't listening anymore. She was still hung up on what she said about her. George's girlfriend? How did she come to that conclusion? And why did the idea of that not seem that bad? Suddenly she felt hot. She shook her head, trying to fight off these thoughts and get back to the issue at hand. 

When Violet finally stopped talking to take a sip from her tea, George asked quickly: "So, why did you call our agency? What is the problem?" 

"Didn't I already tell you over the telephone?" Violet asked, confused. 

"No, that was Lockwood, our employer." Y/N couldn't help but notice that George corrected her on her assumption that he was Lockwood, but not on the one where she called her his girlfriend. 

"Well, for quite some time I've been hearing scratching in my walls. And sometimes this horrible screaming." She shivered, clearly distraught at the thought. "Wait, you've been hearing it?", Y/N asked. That was impossible. Violet nodded eagerly. "Yes! Almost every night. I've lost so much sleep over this, you wouldn't believe it."

George took off his glasses, polished them on his sweater and put them back on. "Violet... does any of your neighbours have a cat? Or maybe a ferret? Or anything of the sort?" She looked at him, confused. "I think Ms. Fernsby two apartments down has a cat. Why is that important?"

George pinched his nose and took a deep breath, and Y/N could tell that he was trying to hold himself together. "Because whatever you are hearing at night, I can tell you with absolute certainty it's not a ghost. If I were you, I'd call animal control. I believe you've got a cat in your walls."

It took quite some time to convince Violet that the scratching she heard was indeed no malevolent ghost, but probably just the neighbour's cat and to get her to stop trying to offer them one cup of tea after the other. 

When they finally stood in front of the apartment building again, the street was deserted and dark. George had called a cab to bring them back home, and now they waited, leaning against the building wall. Every few minutes, the ghost lamps turned on, bathing their surroundings in cold, green light. 

It was a clear night, no clouds obscuring the stars. Y/N leaned her head back, watching the dark sky. She had her jacket pulled tightly around her body, trying to protect herself from the chilly air. In her peripheral, she could see George fiddle with the zipper of his jacket, glancing over at her every now and then. She wanted to say something, anything, but it felt like her throat constricted every time she opened her mouth. Just then, the cab pulled up and George jumped, grabbing the bag and rushing towards it. 

Twenty minutes later, they stood in front of 35 Portland Row, the backlights of the cab disappearing down the street. George pushed open the wonky gate and climbed up the stairs, setting down the duffel bag with a heavy thud. He started rummaging through his pockets. Y/N watched him check every pocket twice before he turned to her. "Do you have a key?" he asked, and she shook her head. "I thought you had one." 

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Of course you did." 

She stood straighter, crossing her arms in front of her. Anger was bubbling up inside of her chest and she had to use every ounce of self-control she had to not scream at him. 

"What is your problem, George? It's not like you brought one! Why do you have to criticise every single thing I do? Why the hell do you act like I'm the stupidest person on earth?"

George threw his hands up, exasperated. "Because you are, Y/N! You are reckless, you have no regard for your safety, and I -"

Before he could end his sentence, the door in front of them got ripped open and Lockwood stood in the frame, raising his eyebrows. "I can't believe it. I send you on a case in hopes you finally get along and what happens? You start fighting right in front of my house!"

George scowled, picking up the bag and walking into the hallway, pushing past Lockwood. "The case was a joke. What did this woman tell you on the telephone? Something about screaming in her wall maybe? Because guess what, that's not a ghost, that's just a bloody cat. And thanks to that I just had to waste an entire evening with her." 

He dropped the bag next to the kitchen entrance and stomped up the stairs. Seconds later, the sound of a door slamming echoed through the house and Lockwood chuckled. "Oh, he's in a bad mood." 

The next few days, George ignored Y/N. Whenever she entered a room he was in, it wouldn't take long for him to leave. If he came into the kitchen and saw her sitting at the table, he would turn around on his heels and leave. At meal times, he acted as if she wasn't even there. And even though Y/N didn't want to admit it, it was starting to eat away at her. 

Three days after the disaster that was their solo case, she came downstairs from her room to get herself a cup of tea. She was about to push open the door, but when she heard the voices of Lucy and George in the kitchen, her hand stopped in mid-air, hovering over the handle.

"She is driving me crazy!" That was George. He sounded exasperated, and she could exactly imagine how he looked right now, hands thrown in the air, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. 

"But why? She's not doing anything. You're just being unfair to her at this point."

"She's just so reckless! She doesn't care for herself and her safety! She's just another Lockwood!" It was silent for a while. "Are you sure that you're not just... worried about her?", Lucy asked softly. "Because you actually do care?"

Y/N leaned closer to the door, her heartbeat quickening. What would George say? "What are you doing there?" Lockwood's voice sounded from behind her and she yelped, losing her balance and pushing the door open. Lucy whipped around and both she and George stared at Y/N, wide-eyed. "I - I didn't mean to -" She was searching for words desperately, her face hot with embarrassment. 

Lucy rose from her seat. "I think you two need to talk", she said, slipping past Y/N and pushing her further into the kitchen. Before she closed the door, she stuck her head in and looked back and forth between them. "You are not leaving until you have talked this out, got it?"

After the door closed, Y/N stood there, nervously shifting her weight from one leg to the other. She was entirely overwhelmed by the situation. 

George was looking everywhere but at her. "What did you hear?", he finally asked. "Not much. Just that I drive you crazy." 

"Yeah, you do! Of course you do. It's annoying enough to have one reckless person in the team, but two is just -", he was searching for words. "I can't be the only one with common sense here!"

Y/N huffed. "How would you know if I have common sense or not? Until now, you've either ignored or insulted me!"

George jumped up, his chair scraping over the floor. "Someone with common sense doesn't throw themselves in front of every single visitor they come across! Without any thought!" 

Y/N made a step forward, that familiar anger stirring inside her. 

"Maybe I wouldn't have to do this if you didn't take every single chance you get to paint me as an incompetent agent! Maybe I wouldn't have to do this if you just accepted me as part of the team like you did with Lucy! What is different about me, huh? Am I really that horrible that you want to bully me out of here? What did I ever do to you?!" 

Y/N had talked herself into a rage, so much so that she was yelling in George's face by the end of it. She hadn't even noticed that she had moved closer to him during her tirade until he gripped her shoulders, making her stop in her tracks.

"Look at me. You drive me crazy, okay?!" His voice was low, and under the sudden intensity of his gaze, all of Y/N's anger melted away and got quickly replaced by a fluster. "I don't know how to handle this, I don't know how to handle you. You just turn up on our doorstep one day, and suddenly, I don't know what to do with myself anymore. Suddenly, I start behaving like an absolute idiot whenever you are around. And then you start throwing yourself in life-threatening situations like an idiot -"

Without thinking, Y/N reached forward, cupped his face with her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. The moment their lips met, he went rigid, and she almost pulled away, the horrible fear of having misread the situation entirely washing over her. But then he seemed to realise what was happening. His hands slid down her arms until they gripped her waist and he pulled her closer to him. Without breaking the kiss, he walked her back a few steps until she collided with the counter. Suddenly, his hands were everywhere, roaming over her back, down to her hips, back to her waist. He was kissing her with such fervour, but at the same time with such gentleness that it was making her feel dizzy. She buried her hands in his curls, eliciting a small gasp from him. She pulled back with a smile, and he looked at her, eyes glazed over, lips puffy from her kisses. 

"Maybe you are the idiot, George."

thanks for reading, feedback is appreciated :)

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[stardust-walker]

For Cryin Out Loud

Eddie is having a bad day so Steve comes home and takes care of him. They take a bath together and end up fooling around because they're 2 idiots in love. Part of my little Hard of Hearing/Deaf Steve little one-shot I wrote that is apparently growing a mind of it's own and turning into a little series of one shots!

There may be minor typos but I haven't posted this on AO3 yet but it's been sitting in my word docs for a solid month so enjoy!

rated: E

cw: smut!! my first time really writing anything bc these boys changed my whole brain chemistry i swear 2 u

border by cafekitsune!

Steve has a feeling that it hasn’t been a good day when he walks in and he doesn’t see Eddie, but he can hear the music playing from the bathroom. The music gets louder as Steve walks through the door and calls out a greeting, almost like Eddie is cranking the music for him too. Steve can recite the opening lines to You Took The Words Right Out of My Mouth from memory at this point and he thinks Eddie must be doing the same thing in the bathtub upstairs. 

Eddie had bitched up a storm at first but Steve reminded him more than enough times that it was a gift and he couldn’t be an asshole about it. He tries to listen a little closer as he mills around the kitchen cutting up fruit and gathering snacks to bring up with him. The song comes to a close as he starts back towards the hallway with his hands full of a peace offering. And yep there it is. The mixtape starts over after a few minutes of silence in which Eddie must have been rewinding the tape. He wonders how long Eddie’s been up there. Probably since Robin left for work a little over an hour ago if he had to venture a guess. Steve moves a little faster as he hums along to For Cryin Out Loud. 

~

“You know, Meat Loaf really knew what he was talking about with this one,” Eddie had said one of the first times they listened to it together. The song had hit the 5-minute mark and Eddie was bobbing his head to the music. Steve just watched him, the corners of his mouth twitching up into a smile. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, totally,” Eddie’s smile was infectious and Steve felt like he was going to orbit another planet. He practically melted when Eddie leaned in to kiss him just as Meat Loaf continued to sing about how of course he loved whoever he was singing to. It was like Eddie himself was screaming it from the rooftops. So when Steve decided to make Eddie a mixtape, it was no surprise that was the first song he put on there.

~

Gareth had caught Eddie listening to the mixtape once. More like he’d gotten into the car with him and stared in horror at the radio before declaring that Eddie was some sort of saint for listening to Guns n’ Roses. At least according to Eddie, but Steve had just smiled and pointed out that he’d caught him strumming the opening notes to Patience more than a few times. 

Steve couldn’t help but think the song was a little close to home for him. He climbed the last few stairs and he could hear Eddie singing the chorus quietly to himself. When Eddie started whistling along, Steve let out a laugh.

“Steve?” The water splashes slightly. Eddie must have sat up in the bath.

“Yeah,” he calls out before he enters the bathroom and leans against the doorway. Eddie reaches out to turn down the stereo with wrinkled fingers and Steve couldn’t stop the fond smile from creeping onto his face. 

 Eddie eyes the plate of fruit with hungry eyes before his gaze shifts back to Steve. “Is that for me?”

“I was thinking we could share actually unless you’re feeling greedy.” He crosses the room and sets the plate down on the closed toilet lid. Steve wrinkles his nose in concentration as he slowly kneels down next to the tub. In the background, Tom Petty is starting to sing about some girl who loves Elvis. “Hey,” he whispers as he brushes the hair out of Eddie’s eyes. They’re a little swollen and Steve frowns. “Bad day?” 

Eddie shrugs and lets out a shaky breath. “Kind of.” He runs a hand over the surface of the water as he looks away. Steve doesn’t push it. He could easily say that the incident during spring break was 3 years ago. Vecna’s been dead for 2. But he gets it; none of them will probably really be over it. A lot of them bear the scars and the damage from it still, Eddie included. Steve notices how some days it’s harder than others for Eddie to get out of bed in the morning. Instead of saying anything, he leans in and brushes his lips over Eddie’s cheek. Eddie sighs and when Steve pulls back, the other man’s eyes have fluttered shut.

“Do you want me to get in?”

“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice cracks. He opens his eyes and they stare at each other for a second. Eddie’s big brown eyes make him look even more open and vulnerable as he scoots back against the wall. “Sit in front of me though. I want us to look at each other.” 

Steve nods because who is he to not give Eddie what he wants? Eddie drums on the side of the tub as Steve rises to his feet and starts to shed his clothes. He can see Eddie in the mirror as he rests his cheek on his arm to get more comfortable looking at him. His heart swells. Eddie is mouthing the words to the next song as it starts and Steve thinks about how Eddie bitched when Steve begged him to buy the newest album from The Cure. Steve had tried not to cry the first time he heard Lovesong. Seeing Eddie mouthing the words at him makes him feel totally different. But still, he tries to control himself because Eddie is having a bad day. As much as they both might want it, he’s pretty sure that fucking in the bath isn’t going to work out anyway.

Steve takes his hearing aid out and takes a moment to adjust to the slightly more muffled sounds around him. Steve’s half-hard just from the weight of Eddie’s staring at him. He pulls his underwear off and places them with the rest of his clothes before he turns to face the tub. 

Eddie’s face lights up in a way that makes Steve laugh. “Hey, gorgeous.” He leans back and wrinkles his nose as he moves his leg to make room. Steve lowers himself into the tub which is pretty warm still. Eddie probably filled it up again while he was downstairs.

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” he winks. Eddie laughs. Steve is so fucking in love with him that it hurts. “Did you actually wash your hair or were you just half underwater?”

“Hm,” Eddie hums as he slides lower into the water. “I plead the fifth.” He sighs as the water reaches the middle of his chest. 

“You’re so gross,” he rolls his eyes and dodges the small splash of water sent his way. “I was going to offer to wash it for you but now I don’t want to.”

Eddie pouts. “Only if you want to.” The unspoken fear of being a burden is still there and Steve gets it. He really does. So he motions for Eddie to sit up and move closer before he reaches behind him for the shampoo. Eddie winces as he bends his knee a little too fast. “You’re too good to me.” 

Steve is faintly aware of the fact that Dio starts playing and it’s one of Eddie’s favorites. Naturally.

“No, I’m not. Now shut up and close your eyes.”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie smirks as he closes his eyes and tilts his head back slightly, baring his neck to Steve. He ghosts his fingers over the scar on his neck. They match and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be over it. Eddie shivers slightly as he leans in and presses a kiss right to the center of his throat before he starts on washing his hair. It’s hard to gauge how gentle is the right amount when it’s not your hair but he tries his best. Skillful fingers comb the knots from Eddie’s hair as he relaxes, eyes only squeezing shut tighter when it’s time to rinse the suds out. 

Steve cups the other man’s scarred cheek in his hand when he’s done and Eddie’s eyes flutter open. “There he is,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles as he leans in, his hands settling on his boyfriend’s biceps and there’s something heavier about his gaze now. “You’re really something else, you know.” 

Part of Steve feels bad for the fact that he kind of likes the days that are like this. It’s a bad day but he can still bring Eddie back from it. They can take their time and take care of each other in whatever way they need to. Sometimes it’s just cuddling and talking about it. Sometimes Eddie doesn’t want to talk at all or Steve can’t bring himself to put in his hearing aids and connect with the world. They just deal with whatever they need.

Eddie licks his lips. Steve watches as the water drips down from his bangs and slides down the side of his face before it stops right on his cupid’s bow. He’s pretty sure it’s shit like this that Warrant is singing about in Heaven because Jesus fuck it’s insane.

Steve ducks in, nose bumping against Eddie’s as he does, and when he kisses him, their teeth click. Eddie’s smiling and it’s like a switch flips in his head. Eddie sighs against Steve’s lips as his wet hands slide up his arms to grip his shoulders. He knows they shouldn’t do anything, at least not here. He just can’t bring himself to do anything to stop it when Eddie slides forward almost into his lap. Steve groans as Eddie nibbles at his bottom lip. His hips buck up slightly and Eddie yelps as Steve slides backward an inch. 

They pull apart and Steve stares at Eddie: his pupils are blown wide and his freshly washed hair starting to curl already and he can’t take it anymore. “Let’s go to bed” Eddie leans in and whispers. Christine McVie is singing through the speakers about how she’d be with someone anywhere and everywhere. He fucking gets it and he’ll scream it from the rooftops one day.

He’s gentle when he helps Eddie out of the tub and towel dries his hair. Their hands wander and the only other sound in the room aside from the music is Eddie’s quiet singing and the occasional gasp or laugh. They leave the music blaring as they hurry down the hall. When Eddie lays on the bed and motions for him to follow, Steve thinks that one day he’ll kiss every fucking scar that the Upside Down left on him if he hasn’t already. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice and they’re both laughing as Steve kisses his way up Eddie’s left side. He takes special care to kiss as much of his scarred-up chest as he can. Eddie sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Steve,” he whispers in a way that makes all the pistons in his brain fire. “Stevie, come on.” 

Right now is about Eddie, so he starts moving again. Licking and kissing and biting his way up his lover’s neck and he’s already starting to fall apart just a little. Steve curses himself for not putting his hearing aid back in. Now he’s missing out on every little sound Eddie makes even though he has them committed to memory by now. Steve plants a hand on the bed on either side of the man as he pulls away. Eddie’s hair is splayed out on the pillow like a halo and Steve swallows hard as he tries to burn the sight into his brain. There’s a part of him that wants to see it every time he closes his eyes because there can’t be anything better than that.

“What do you want,” he whispers as he eyes the man beneath him with hungry eyes. 

“You.” Eddie grins up at him. Steve grins right back as he presses himself down onto him. Eddie groans and Steve crashes their lips together and swallows the sound right up. Eddie slips his tongue into his mouth. Steve trembles a little as a hand slides down his back, fingers tracing down his spine in a feather-light touch. The fingers on Eddie’s other hand wind into his hair and Steve lets out a groan that mirrors Eddie’s own. It’s like a feedback loop.

They’re barely touching each other. Just grinding against each other and only breaking away to breathe until Steve sits up enough to feel around on the bedside table until he snatches up the lube. Eddie’s dick twitches in interest and yeah. He’ll give him whatever the fuck he wants whenever he asks. Within reason. So sue him. The way that Eddie’s big brown eyes stay focused on him as he flips the cap and pours lube onto his fingers is enough to make him crazy.

“This okay?”

His bangs flop in front of his eyes with how fast he nods his head. He parts his legs almost like it’s an instinct by now as Steve moves to kneel between his knees. Steve watches just as closely and he feels his breath catch when Eddie starts to melt under his touch. It’s just one finger circling his rim at first and Eddie pulls his legs in tighter as he sighs. By the time Steve has two fingers inside of him, Eddie is panting quietly. Steve curls his fingers and he hits that spot that he knows has Eddie seeing fireworks. He can’t stop himself from kissing his way up his chest again, fingers still moving inside of him.

When he’s close enough, Eddie grips him by the hair and tugs him up gently. He crashes their lips together with an intensity that leaves Steve gasping. Eddie’s all over him. All-encompassing as their mouths move together and they breathe each other in. Eddie’s thighs are trembling as they wrap around Steve’s waist. Steve pulls his fingers out of him slowly.

 Then there’s so little space between them that neither of them can reach down and wrap a hand around both of them to jerk off. That might be what Eddie wants, but Steve thinks it’s close enough as he breaks the kiss only to latch onto the soft skin of his neck. Eddie’s voice is muffled and Steve lets out a confused sound as he gets shoved back by a palm to the forehead. “Wrong side,” Eddie sighs before he guides Steve to the other side of his neck and Jesus Christ he likes this angle a lot better. It’s like Eddie realizes what he needs. The hand that guided him moves to the back of his hair and the other cradles the side of his face like he’s something precious. 

Steve’s hips jerk and Eddie hisses almost right in his ear. “Fuck yeah just like that. Come on.” The gasps and whispers guide him better than anything else as they grind against each other. They’re so close that he can feel the muscles in Eddie’s stomach start to tense up. He can hear his breathing pick up and the soft moans that start to spill out even when he’s trying to hold them back. Eddie’s close and so is he. It’s almost painful when he manages to sit up to slip a hand between them and it only takes two hard jerks for Eddie to finally break. 

He takes in everything. He always does. The way Eddie throws his head back against the pillows and his eyes roll back just a little bit before he squeezes them closed. The way he blushes red right down to the scars on his chest. It’s the way that Eddie groans out his name that sends Steve right over the edge with him. He slumps forward, trembles, and curses through his own orgasm as he buries his face in Eddie’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he pants out as he wipes his hand on the sheets. They have to do laundry anyway.

His arms feel a little like jello as he pushes himself up off of his boyfriend. Eddie smiles up fondly at him as Steve leans in to kiss him. He stops halfway there as Eddie lets out a short laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Eddie shrugs as he reaches up and brushes a stray piece of hair from Steve’s forehead. “Hi.”

The gentleness of it throws him off and he sputters. “Hi?”

Eddie laughs as he pulls him down again. “You know, I think I’m having a better day now.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he twirls a strand of Eddie’s hair between his fingers. “Oh, you don’t say?”

“Yeah, well you know. When the prettiest guy in Hawkins tries to woo you, it’s kind of hard to stay suffering.”

“Oh poor baby.”

“I think pizza would really secure the wooing,” Eddie sighs dramatically as he turns his head to pout at his boyfriend.

“You’re a pain in the ass.” Steve snorts as he pulls himself into a sitting position. 

Eddie gasps and mockingly grabs his chest. “But you love me!”

“For cryin out loud?” Steve quirks an eyebrow before he leans over to kiss Eddie on the forehead.

“And all that other shit the guy sings about.”

“You’re a sap.”

“Takes one to know one, Stevie!” 

[shadowscrybe]

Rayven's Revenge- Chapter 4

Summary: Rayven is the younger sister of Rhysand in the Night Court. She was banished 64 years ago for the murder of her sister. This is the story of Rayven earning her place in Prythian and finding out what it means to be family. We all know how her story ends...but how did she get there? I don't want to forget the demon princess with bat wings. Do you?

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: none- canon typical content

A/N: WE LOVE THE VANSERRA BOYS OVER HERE. Also I edited these first six chapters about a billion times at this point, so if there's still typos I will unalive I'm not kidding. But also if you see any please let me know so I can fix them bc if my stuff stays published and incorrect I may never recover

Eris Vanserra was a brutish male, with terrible selfish instincts. He was a frustrating teacher with cruel methods and an even worse temper. Always trying to confuse her. Just when she thought she had something, he’d change the rules. He would have fit in well in Windhaven. 

But as she scanned the words he scribbled for her, she could see the efforts of a fearful subject. He didn’t want Beron as a highlord more than anyone else. Maybe she and him weren't so different after all. Somewhat loving their fathers but still undermining them for the sake of their people. 

She grew to love him and saw some of the reasons he taught her the way he did, but some secrets would always seem to remain solely his. 

He described an area of land to investigate where there were whispers of a powerful fae trapped in the Spring Court. Beron wanted her for her supposed ties to the King of Hybern. The meeting had gone according to plan, besides the conflict of her potentially angering the spring court highlord. 

Over the years she began to understand his cryptic words more, but sometimes he stumped her. Only half of what he had written made sense. 

“What in Hel does ‘siphon’ mean?” She asked Rahne. She had no clue either.

He was always reminding her to destroy any evidence of their partnership with empty Eris threats. She couldn't leave any trace of his notes and if she jeopardized his position in the autumn court then he’d flame her. 

She told him if he was so easily caught by scribbles then he deserved it. 

As if anyone would know what he actually meant. Was the female suspected to be Illyrian? He knows she doesn’t have a siphon. No Illyrians fought on Hybern’s side either. If he was suggesting she needed the bastards for this, she was going to wring his neck. 

She read his words one more time, ensuring she had the coordinates right, and let her flame eat the parchment. She could at least scout a few areas Eris described before she had to be back at Velaris. 

Rahne raced back to her over the brush yelling, Shifter! Shifter! Shifter! 

Rayven felt him in the treeline over her left shoulder. The winds of the spring court hung still, like they were stalling to watch. She unsheathed her dagger at her thigh and spun the handle in her grip. She did not notice Lucien to her right when he appeared around a tall shrub. Rahne guttered in the folds of her wings, embarrassed she hadn't sensed him first. 

The Vanserra’s were invisible to her. What does Beron do to them under that rock?

His russet skin glowed under the red hair he and Eris shared. He was always darker than Eris, regardless of the sun they claimed to get in Autumn. His brown eyes were rich like ale, not the light amber of the bastards. 

He was breathtaking every time she saw him. He knew it too and used his stunning beauty to his advantage. 

“What a pleasure it is to see you again, Rayven.” He gave an emphasized bow at the waist. “A strange place to run into each other.” A sly smile. 

She kept her eyes scanning for Tamlin, who was no doubt in his shifter form somewhere. “I could say the same to you, Lucien.” She did not bow back. 

“I am a guest at the Spring Court,” he said. “Your business here has concluded. You are now trespassing these lands. What would your highlord say about that?”

“Quit scaring her,” the spring court heir’s voice came from behind. 

She pivoted to keep them both in her eyesight. Lucien laughed. 

“I thought I made myself clear earlier,” she said to the idiots blocking her way back to the open sky. 

They had penned her here. She didn't risk looking up to confirm, but the canopy here would tear her wings up. She thought about risking it and asking Azriel to help her later, but Lucien pulled her attention. He placed himself on a rock a few paces closer to Tamlin. 

Tamlin sighed at his friend. “We’re not looking for trouble.” He held his palms up. 

“Good. Then stay out of my way.” She could maybe make a run, hoping to break into open air, but these were his lands. Probably even more so than Tarin’s at this point.  

Rahne gravitated closer towards Lucien. His eyes never strayed from Rayven, but he was keeping her shadow in mind. She did not like when something was sneakier than her. And Lucien was a fox among wolves. 

Tamlin tracked her escape attempts and sighed. “We just want to talk.” 

The heir and her best friend’s brother had only a handful of years on her, but she was the one with the reputation. 

Lucien was from the flame, like Eris. She doubted her fire would be able to burn him even if she could manage to reach him. It barely ever reached Eris, and that was when he went easy on her. 

Lucien must have known where her thoughts led. He said, “You have shadowfire, but it’s two against one. Can we skip the dance and talk?” 

“I like those odds.” 

Some scary demon princess. They knew exactly who she was. Not the dark demon, but the outcast daughter. She hated them for it. 

Rayven leaned down and snatched up a few short bulbed weeds. Yellow and bright against the tan of her skin. 

“I apologize for my fathers behavior earlier.” Tamlin said. He searched her face, but she kept it neutral. “You will be safe here. I promise.” 

She could easily take any seasonal court male, so he was probably right. It was the Illyrian males she needed protection from. 

Rahne kept her silent focus on Lucien in the folds of her wings. 

“You followed me here to say sorry?” 

Lucien answered, “We tracked you here because you are a sloppy scout. You are lucky it was our beautiful faces that found you instead of the less favorable.” 

Flames licked up her throat. Did Lucien know his words mirrored hers earlier. Knowing the fox, she would have guessed it likely. 

“You're looking for her too?” Tamlin redirected. His eyes didn't search the woods, the way they did in the manor house. He knew how to monitor the forest with more than his sight.

“She must be special, to have so many lords placing bounties on one single soldier.” She hoped her opening was broad enough to get them to reveal themselves. 

“Is your highlord aware of her yet?” Lucien asked this time. 

“The Highlord’s will is mine.” Acid rose in her throat. 

“That doesn't answer my question.” He wasn't eager to ask where she received this information. 

“Why does Tarin want her?”  

Tamlin answered. “I think he used to know her.” 

Lucien casually laid atop his rock, but his eyes cut to his friend. A true statement from the heir, then. 

She owed him a truth. “I recently came into this intel, and as we already know, the Highlord does not appreciate his time being wasted. There's no point in relaying an unreliable tip.”

“You don't plan on telling your highlord?” Tamlin pressed. 

“I didn't realize this was an interrogation.” 

Lucien smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. “Cute. The princess of the Night Court has a sense of humor.” 

“Oh, I can be hilarious.” Her fire ignited, the shifter yielded a step, but Lucien lounged on his boulder. 

“Easy, we aren't looking for a fight. We want to help.” Tamlin said. 

“I am not asking for it,” she said. 

“And yet you need it,” Lucien snarled. “You're lost in the Oaks, she would never be here. Besides, most of Spring has been searched at this point.” 

“She's not here,” Tamlin said. 

“Then where is she?” 

“We don't know,” Tamlin admitted. “We’re searching Summer and Winter when we can, but half the time I’m busy running my father in circles. He never gave a name, but he asks about her like he knows who it is.” 

Lucien barely shook his head at Tamlin. He was telling her more than he was supposed to. She would’ve done anything to have Rhys there to read Lucien’s thoughts. 

“If I can get her back to Night then I can hide her.”

“Or give her over to your highlord,” said the fox. 

“The other highlords want her alive. He is the only one who will accept her death. I get to her, find what she knows, and dispose of her.” 

“That simple then?” He uncrossed his long legs and rose gracefully.  “I’m done here.” 

Tamlin kept his distance, but he offered one more comment in parting. “Don't tell him.” Then he was gone.

Lucien paused in his step. Her ears strained to hear his soft voice. “Do not meet him there again.” 

His brown eyes desperately met hers, and she knew it was not a threat. 

[reinemichele]

Well. I had a post typed up about my cat and then the tumblr app crashed and I lost everything I typed. So I'm going to try to retype it all and I'm not gonna be cranky about it ❤

I'm putting a read-more bc it'll get long and be more of a stream of conscious/disorganized ramble and discuss animal death/injuries, alcoholism, and familial abuse, so please don't feel like you need to read it, I'm just getting my thoughts out.

Hurhghughhghugh . yeah that's how I feel send post

No um let's see. I usually try to be more organized with these posts but I started writing this at 6 in the morning and my back really hurts, so sorry if it's disjointed and has any typos.

First of all, I debated making this joke but it's my grief and mental illness, so

Every time I try a new antidepressant something bad happens, and I felt especially wary because something bad also happens every birthday too. But I was out of refills, wanted to try something else, couldn't get in until Dec 27th, & felt silly putting it off for a superstition I don't fully believe in. All that said, when I got home and took my first lexapro at almost 5 in the morning, I hoped that it would make these next few weeks easier.

Anyway, it was around 11:30pm, and I wanted to go to bed but I was trying to stay up to spend more time with my pets. My 🅱ack still really hurts from petsitting, so I was on the heating pad with my glasses off.

My mom called for me using my name, not a nickname, which she only does when she's in pain or distressed. It took me a minute to find my glasses, so she called again, and that got my brother's attention bc again, hearing "Erin" = something's wrong.

I don't remember what she said, probably that there was something wrong with Buttercup. I followed her and immediately saw he had a bloody gash on his eye. When he saw my brother and I he started meowing and tried to walk, but his legs buckled. My brother scooped him up and took him into the bathroom to see where he was hurt. I noticed blood on his tail and on 3 of his legs, but couldn't see where he was bleeding from.

There's really not enough room in our bathroom for 3 people and a big cat, so my mom started calling emergency vets while I got the cat carrier ready with a clean towel.

My brother wanted to grab gloves as a precaution before putting Buttercup in the carrier in case he got defensive and asked me to watch him while he left. I sat down next to him and he meowed to me, panting, and pressed his head into my leg for comfort. I petted his head and told him it'd be okay. I didn't think it was going to be okay.

I changed into a warmer shirt and brushed my hair, my brother and I took turns using the bathroom. We each grabbed a water bottle and headed out.

My brother knows my 🅱ack hurts, so he asked if I was sure about holding the cat carrier the whole time. I really didn't think we would be bringing Buttercup home, so I said yes. I didn't want the jostling of the car to scare and hurt him more than necessary, especially after he was seeking comfort in the bathroom. My brother could, um, drive fast, and I could hold the carrier as still as possible and stick my fingers in the gaps of the bars. He would be scared and in pain, but cats are smart; he would be able to understand he was being cared for.

The entire car ride, he cried frantically and pushed his head into my hand through the cage. I meowed to him and told him it was okay and I was sorry he was in pain. The closest emergency vet was an hour away and we had to stop for gas. My 🅱ack was definitely aching but I think it was worth it.

We got there and everyone was very nice and attentive and quick. They called Buttercup handsome and quickly gave him a painkiller. After 10 minutes he was still hyperventilating and they were concerned about his oxygen intake, so they took him into a little transparent cubby they could filter oxygen into. At one point I heard a tech mutter that his oxygen stat couldn't be "that"; he'd be in a coma if it was. He took the reading again and said that it made more sense. I can't really know for sure this is the case, but I know from experience both with my mom's time in healthcare and previous pets that animals can hold onto survival out of sheer will and stubbornness no matter how impossible it seems.

It was difficult to watch him struggle to breathe. I could tell he was still meowing for us. I wanted to ask them to give him another dose or possibly just sedate him, but I knew that it would suppress his respiratory system further (hospice babey), so I tried to just bear watching him suffer without being able to comfort him.

An hour later they gave him another dose and quickly did an ultrasound and xrays. They explained the respiratory system thing I just mentioned and that that was why they were hesitant to give him more, but they did give him another dose soon after that because he was still so agitated. After a few minutes we noticed that his breathing stopped. They started CPR and I wanted to ask them to stop, but my brother had gone to the bathroom and I didn't want to exclude him from the decision. He got back, we made eye contact, and we both asked them to stop doing CPR. It had been 8 minutes.

They told us they were really sorry for our loss and explained what the xrays and ultrasound revealed. He had no fractured bones, but there was a hernia in his chest, his heart had moved away from the surface of his chest cavity, and either his lungs or diaphragm were punctured because there was a lot of air in his chest, causing pressure/pain in the chest and difficulty breathing.

They didn't really need to come out and say it: even if his heart hadn't stopped, the internal damage was so severe that there wouldn't have been anything they could do to save him. We knew that was most likely the case even before the tests, we just couldn't let him suffer and die at home in that much pain.

Because of the gash on his eye and the punctured organs, they thought it was more likely to be a big bird that picked him up and dropped him when he started struggling than a car impact.

They wrapped him in a red blanket and took us to a private room where we could say goodbye. I held him, kissed his head, held his paws, and cried with my brother. We called our mom to tell her and she cried with us. She told us that my dad's sister offered to pay the bill, and I wanted to say that she (my aunt) could go to hell, but we really aren't in the financial position to refuse. So I didn't say anything ❤ And she texted my aunt's payment info to my brother.

I don't want to fully get into our relationship with her but as of writing this, my dad's sister is already emotionally blackmailing us. And that's the least abusive behavior from the people in my family I don't speak with anymore ❤

Anyway

I tried to process and piece together what all the test results meant. He was most likely picked up by a big bird and then dropped from a pretty decent height, causing severe pain and internal damage. Either he was dropped in our yard and didn't have to go far, or he was dropped far away and managed to hop the fence to get back into the yard despite his injuries. Once there, he cried for help and comfort from his trusted humans. Despite the pain and lack of oxygen most likely making him delirious, he didn't get defensive at all, completely trusting us. He didn't even hiss.

Cats are notorious for finding a quiet place to hide when they're injured, especially if the injuries are lethal. None of my cats have ever done that; a testament to the mutual love and trust we're able to build with them.

We spent a little more time with him and then made the cremation arrangements and payment. We almost forgot the cat carrier in our... state. It was late and we'd been crying a lot.

When we got home we all tried to make lighthearted conversation, but ended up all crying anyway. My mom apologized and said she knew he was "my" cat, but she still loved him a lot. I told her she didn't need to be sorry and that I was glad that he was loved by all of us.

We got Buttercup for my 21st birthday.

Alcoholism and abuse is prevalent in my family, to put it lightly, and people kept pressuring me to go out and drink for my birthday. I didn't want to have to share my childhood trauma to get people to leave me alone about drinking. I was, like, possessed with terror that I'd try one drink and then either spend the rest of my life burning for alcohol, or give in and become one of the monsters in the family. My brother could tell this was really weighing on me and suggested we adopt a cat for my birthday. In 2017 our 24 year old cat died, and in 2018 our 21 year old cat died, so I was still grieving them and we had the room. He said he'd never seen my eyes light up so quickly as when he made the suggestion. I think what he left unsaid was he didn't realize that all it would take to make me look less haunted would be to suggest taking in a new cat.

It sounds cheesy, but I think to me, taking in a new pet for my 21st birthday was a physical reminder that I wasn't doomed to repeat the same cycle found in my family. My future was mine to decide, and I could make it one where I put love and kindness into the universe. Being 21 didn't have to mean living in fear of hurting children the way I was hurt.

I had every intention of walking into the shelter and taking home the oldest cat there. But I saw Buttercup and just felt a connection. He was around 12 weeks old and the cutest creamy orange color. His ears and paws were too big for the rest of his body. He looked lonely and scared. I circled the shelter multiple times until both my brother and one of the staff gently said it was okay if I wanted to take a kitten home.

My brother's more of a dog person, but when we got Buttercup, he started really trying to research and understand cats, and I could see it in his eyes how happy he was that Buttercup saw him as a paternal figure and not just me. He was worried about Buttercup being too young to eat real cat food, he wanted to help potty train him. He started carrying Buttercup around on his shoulder and showing him parts of the house he was curious about. I had a migraine the day Buttercup was scheduled to be spayed and my brother said he could do it on his own. He spent the whole day checking in on him and nervously asked me if this or that was normal, when his appetite would return, when the anesthesia would wear off.

This was a turning point for my brother. Usually every time we took in a new cat, I was the one socializing them and helping them adjust to the house. This enthusiasm and love for Buttercup made my brother start putting in effort to bond with all our cats too. It was really sweet to watch unfold.

When we got Buttercup, my mom was working a grueling job really far away, so she had to get up at 5AM for the commute and sometimes didn't get home until 9PM. She almost always had to go straight to sleep, had no time for herself, and felt very depressed because of this job. So for the first year that we had Buttercup, he barely saw her and was quite shy around her.

After she was able to find a different job, she had more time and was much less depressed. She made it her mission to become Buttercup's friend, and within a few months he became her morning buddy. Suddenly he was knocking her eyeliner out of her hand so her hand was free to pet him, and he had gotten over his fear of the sound of running water because he wanted to stay in the bathroom while she showered. My mom stopped dreading mornings because she could look forward to spending them with Buttercup.

So... there's a lot I could say about my "family", defined as people who I'm related to by blood. But I'm not in the right mental space or time-frame to talk about it without saying things I can't take back. But I've cut contact with a lot of the people I share DNA with, and the only ones who I consider to be my "family" are my mom, two brothers, and one cousin. (My dad is dead, for the record, he didn't do anything heinous; he's just in an urn). In this small family of mine, our greatest strength is that we have an endless well of love for all living creatures.

So I don't want my mom or brother to feel guilty for being heartbroken. We loved that cat together; we made him feel wanted and cared for and loved. So we can mourn him together too. There's no hierarchy here.

[winderlylandchime]

Just want to send you guys little moments that have happened in the last few days that for sure wouldn’t have without qaf. Just in case if you guys thought that maybe he has even one normal day/moment in his life. I am here to show you that you’re wrong. Anyway:

Our mom called him like 4 times which he didn’t answer. Finally when he called her back, she asked why didn’t he answer before to which he said ‘sorry mom, i was playing with Brian’ and my mom went dead silent and had the most scared look on her face and then just slowly went ‘please, please say you mean the cat.’

He went on a walk with the neighbor that watched qaf and he mentioned to him that he saw Gale on Criminal Minds. And the guy, i guess told him that Gale was on Desperate Housewives and the next thing I see out the window is a grown man trying to speed walk back home. And he barges in and goes ‘we gotta watch Desperate Housewives! Right now! Brian is there!’ And when I told him that he’s only in a few episodes in a later season, he went ‘fuck. So now I gotta watch that whole thing for a bit of Brian? That’s rude but I guess I gotta do what I gotta do’ so now he put DH on his watch list next.

Then he had a call with his therapist and I don’t know what they talked about but whatever it was, it lead to him bursting into my room going ‘do YOU think Brian would fuck me if given the chance?’ We got into an argument because I refused to answer. I mean what do i even say to that? But also i want to know what he asked his therapist with the way he emphasized the word ‘you’.

I was in a “meeting” (more like a catch up) like 2 days ago with my boss and a coworker (who thankfully have met my brother and are both cool) when this dude burst into my office to ask ‘when do you think Brian fell in love?’ He thinks it was before prom, he can’t make his mind up between 1x16, 1x18 or 1x20 he wants to say it was sooner but he doesn’t think so. But he thinks prom solidified it, which btw he said all that while still in the room and then when he noticed my laptop, he very, very slowly walked backwards and closed the door behind him.

Then I went to our local store (it’s like a tiny corner store or whatever) and when I was at the check out ready to pay, the guy working there goes ‘hey, i thought you only had one brother?’ And i confirm that yes, i onky got one, thank god. And then he goes ‘so who the fuck are Brian and Justin?’ And i felt like a deer caught in headlights. Turns out he’s been talking about them like they’re normal people, so the poor guy thought Justin was our little brother and Brian is his boyfriend/my brothers friend.

And my all time favorite one this week was the one that even made our mom laugh so hard she cried: an old lady that went to PT with him (after pt they have him on like some lasers or whatever to help the pain, so he’s laying on one of the beds and she’s on the other) she has heard him talk about Brian to the nurse(!!!) so many times that she actually thought Brian was his boyfriend. And he didn’t even realize it until she left her last session yesterday and before she left she went ‘sweetheart, leave that man, you deserve much better than what he gives you plus by the sound of it, he’s still hung up on his ex’ and my dumb brother sighed and went ‘yeah, i know- wait what’ and she waved and left. He couldn’t figure out if he gave off a certain vibe or was it how he talked/moved and she was just being a little ignorant about it or if all this Brian talk made an old lady think he’s gay. And when I didn’t answer bc idk what to say, he got into an argument with me again because and I quote ‘how dare you not know if I’m gay or not to other people.’ Oh and he texted our mom ‘do I seem gay?’ But he fucked up and wrote ‘seam’ so it changed the whole thing to ‘Am i gay?’ Mom’s response was ‘i don’t know hunny, maybe. Who knows at this point anymore’ it took him TWO HOURS to realize the typo/autocorrect and by then it was too late to fix it so he just gave up.

So i’d say living with my brother at the hight of his Qaf obsession has been going great.

Dear sweet anon! This has made me laugh so hard. Your brother is really in the mix of it all, isn't he?

my mom went dead silent and had the most scared look on her face and then just slowly went ‘please, please say you mean the cat.’ LOL. Because let's not have an adult man with a new imaginary friend who's a character on a long ago TV show.

I am so terrified of what he asked his therapist. I wish your brother was my client because I would just discuss the show for a session and get paid but now I'm imagining this happening to a therapist who has never seen QAF and how confusing it must be and how this therapist is probably consulting with other therapists to figure out how much to indulge this. (Btw has QAF come up in my own therapy? Yes, yes it has.)

As for when Brian fell in love - that is such a good question. I think I had an anon who asked me that. I think there's a meta post in your brother that is dying to be posted to tumblr.

Also everyone thinking Brian and Justin are other brothers or your brother's boyfriend or... the fact that your brother is not prefacing all of this with "this is a tv show and these are characters on the show" is just fandom brain. And it's hilarious. And the little old lady telling him to leave Brian? DEAD.

Mom’s response was ‘i don’t know hunny, maybe. Who knows at this point anymore’ is a great response to "am I gay" but also brother not realizing the typo/autocorrect is killing me.

You are a saint. Thank you for your service. This is incredible.

[coco-case-study]

Some few unpopular anime opinions

If you're as chronically online as i am there may be a few opinions that you might agree with.

Warning: typos ahead bc i did not spell check

So let's get straight into it.

Anyone who has demon slayer as their favourite anime is valid and y'all nees to stop hating on anime just because it is mainstream. You're not special or better than anyone and this comes from someone who watches slice of life and isekai for fun. I've seen my fair share of anime and demon slayer is a decent shonen.

Shonen anime needs to stop with these war/genocide themes.

Fire force, Jujutsu kaisen, Attack on titan, kaiju no.8, Chansaw man. Demon slayer Ect.. all these anime have 3 things in common. It's about either war, genocide, or a combination of both. I understand that it's the easiest and most recognisable route to go if you want to have a Hero in your story. But anime's like jojobizzareadventure for example don't need war or saving humanity as a whole as a driving point for their plot. (Ignoring part 2 and 6)

Whoever is in charge of great pretender is one big fat racist for not continuing with a 3rd season. This is the first time we get a black love intrest and just when she gets revealed the show gets cancelled? Unbelievable!

Slice of life & romance anime is fun and idc what people have to say about it.

Listen, our lives are shit and this is good escapism! Who wouldn't want to watch someone go through their regular day and have their biggest quest be a trip to the grocery store or their hardest task being deciding what they are gonna wear tomorrow. Our real lives are like that too. I bet you that anyone who watches anime and is a full time student or worker. Apart from maybe exciting weekends or evening outs. We do live are lives rather simply. And what's wrong with watching someone else live their lives. It's even better when its romance because you get to root for a likeable couple and live vicariously through them.

My hero fell off

I don't need to go to deep into this. I really liked the series. I loved Kirishima's ark. And I literally have aizawa as a widget on my phone but if you need 6 seasons for character devolopment for your MC who's been on a losing streak since the very first episode. Then you and your writing team need a good and long meeting about compelling story telling.

Requiem of the rose king

At the beginning of the story I really felt bad for richard because everyone was treating him like shit just because he's intersexual. But near the end of the story he kind of proved his mothers point by killing literally everyone that he loved.

This is the most daring manga I've ever read and idk if i shoukd feel ashamed that it's my first fully completed series but to be fair I bought it bc of the art style and i kept reading because of the messy family drama.

The pedo stuff and the incest stuff is just... yikes.

Overal a good series really nails the head on old English aesthetic. Still not better than black butler though

Everyone is fruity asf

I ship everyone in vanitias no carte and so should you.

Anyone in the fandom knows about the canon and fanon ships. The canon ships have written chemistry and sometimes the chemistry is valid. However the obvious gae undertones are hard to ignore and so I understand the fandoms discourse. HOWEVER it's not an excuse to hate or dismiss the hetero ships. I do not want a repetition of the mess that is the jojo fandom where every hetero ship just gets flushed down the toilet as if they don't exist. With that being said i ship vanitas and Jeanne and there is nothing you can do about it.

I'll never forgive araki for what he did to gappy and yasuho

You can not have the first female jobro have this much chemistry with the main jojo and not have them end up as a couple. The ending of jojolion will be on my mind till i die because the way i cried ugly tears because i was anticipating a kiss or at least a freaking hug. I am sad and my faith in love haa left along with the last chapter of jojolion.

For now this it i sure have a lot more to say but this thread would get too long. If anyone has actually read this what is wrong with you lmao go outside.

[my-ocdemons]

Okay this is my second time typing this BC I accidentally posted to my main.

...

This is hard to write because my OCD makes me type things over and over again so pardon and typos or nonsensical rambling.

My OCD started quite young (5-7), when I was fearful of contaminating the house with germs from object, animals and people. This resulted in excessive hand washing. My parents didn't notice at this time and it was livable.

My OCD got much worse during highschool though and my parents noticed, especially when the washing instensified. I started to wash everything, my books, my computer, my bed, my pens, my clothes (and not the normal way the paper towels and water way). This continued at a stagnant severity until covid and and the following lockdown.

Initially I thought it was great. My washing was finally justified. I could avoid all the major triggers for my OCD by staying inside. I was enjoying myself. Until eventually I couldnt step over cracks one day. It was a ritual that was present all throughout lockdown, but got much worse eventually. When it was less about object contaminating things, but my thoughts.

Soon I couldnt cross any doorway without going back and forth for an hour and i couldn't cross the front door at all so my parents had to carry me ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ . At this point I was zooming with my first therapist who did nothing really other than zoom me every fortnight and mansplain anxiety to me.

So, switched her out and got another one.

By the time of my first appointment with my second therapist covid restrictions were easing up. I though she was cool because she had a therapy cat and I'm a sucker for lil bundles of fluff. But she put me on meds, which wouldn't have been an issue if she had have actually done some work with me on top of that, instead, everytime I went to her she simply said to wait for the meds to kick in and it would be marvellous if there was a little tablet that would take this away from me but alas, nope. Stayed with her and then I was sent to headspace (side note: headspace did nothing themselves, like completely useless) who redirected me to NECAHMS. Then I met the first good therapist I've had, Dr Vader, she actually seemed to care when I told her what was going on, by this time I had gotten over a few of my rituals myself, but with her support I could actually leave my own house without being carried.

Now, you may be wondering why I have dubbed her Dr Vader, well, it's because like most father's she left me. She got a new role in the office and couldn't keep seeing me. I felt a bit shoved aside but oh well, what can you do. Then I got directed to my current therapist who is lovely. We've done some actual talking, she helped me understand my OCD and also wants to bring my parents in to be better supports. I've learned to think of my OCD in a new way and it's still debilitating, but there's hope now.

Sometimes... I lied... Alot of the time a get sad knowing that this will never truly be gone, but at least it might be manageable...

Who knows.

[ur-url-is-weird]

Not to be That Person™ but:

LITERALLY WHO TOLD MILLENNIALS THAT WE (GEN Z) ALL THINK THAT SKINNY JEANS AND SIDEPARTS ARE BAD???? WHAT????? IM ACTUALLY GOING TO SCREAM WHY IS THIS HAPPENING I WEAR SKINNY JEANS AND SOMETIMES HAVE MY HAIR IN A SIDE PART DID THEY MAKE UP THIS WHOEL THING JUST SO PEOPLE WOULD POST ABOUT IT JUST LIKE I AM NOW??? IM GOING TO FREAAKING CRY YOU HAVE OFFFICIALLY MADE ME LOSE. MY. MARBLES. WHATTTTT IS THISSSSSS STOOOPPPPPPPPPPPPP WHATTTTTTTTTTT IM SO CONFUSEDDD WHATTTTTTTTT AAAAAHHHHHHHH I SAW SOMEBODY SAYING THAT THEY SHPULDNT TAKE ADVICE FROM US BEXAUSE WE ATE TIDEPODS AND CANT WRITE IN CURSIVE BUT I THINK THEY FORGOT TWO THINGS WHICH IS THAT A LOT OF US??? CAN WRITE IN CURSIVE QUITE WELL??? AND ALSO WE'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONES FIGHTING EACH OTHER WHATTTTTT WHAT IS HAPPENNINNNGGGGGGGG WHATTTTTTTT WHERE DID THEY GET THIS IDEA FROM???? ALSO DIDNT THEY EAT THE TIDE PODS???????? BUT WHERE WHEN HOW DID THIS HAPPENNNN ??? WHO TOLD THEM THAT THEY CANT WEAR THE JEANS THEY LIKE AND DO THEIR HAIR HOW THEY WANTTT???? LITERALLY NO GO DO WHAT YOU WNAT IT'S YOUR BODY I DONT MIND YOU PROBABLY LOOK AWESOME BUT WHY WHO TOLD YOU WHAT I SWEAR TO GOD NOBODY EVEN SAID THISSSSSS WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I SWEAR TO GOD THEYRE PLOTTING AGAINST US IN ORDER TO MAKE US MAKE THESE POSTS TO PINPOINT US AS CHILDISH OR SOMETHINGGGG WHYYYYYYYYYYY

[boneless07]

Two Nerds, One Bed || Spengler x reader

Title: Two Nerds, One Bed (Egon Spengler x gn!reader)

Warnings: Lots of fluff, I feel like Egon might be out of character a bit but.. shhh...

Word Count: 2,200~

Notes: You (reader) celebrate Christmas. You also hate Christmas and would rather not go to your family’s house because I said so…  I am not projecting at all… Gender-neutral reader (but kind of on the feminine side of things just bc I'm used to writing fem readers , but it's also vague enough that it qualifies as gn?? bare with me guys, I’m not used to actually posting my work) I looked up overused yet loved tropes and this one was it. There also may be typos, I’ve gone over this like a hundred times and I keep finding stuff to tweak--Hope you enjoy!

A pretty rude ghost on the outskirts of the city. A two-man job on Christmas week. Now, the Ghostbusters didn’t take out-of-town calls often, but it was a big week and they were feeling generous. The cranky old lady who called said she’d pay handsomely to get the damn thing out of her house. 

Even though he was the one to take the call and accept the job, Venkman had the week planned with Dana, so he dumped the work on someone else. Winston was with his family, so he couldn’t and wouldn’t take it. While Ray stayed in New York, he was doing his own celebrating with his beloved "Ecto-mobile" and a family of his own.

On the other side of things, Egon was Jewish--but even then, he never really celebrated holidays, so the entire month just felt like a normal month in New York for him. Just a lot more snow and terrible, repetitive music playing on the radio. Work seemed to get busier, the city-people angrier even when they sang of being jolly. He hyper-focused on people’s emotions, always trying to find where it came from… home issues, the cold, he’d never know.

As the last of the gang? You wanted any excuse not to go back home for Christmas. You wanted snow, and you desperately wanted to stay hundreds and hundreds of miles away from your mother asking when you’d get a real job–a desk job–and not some silly performance gig. New York was your new home, ghosts and all. Your family home was left far behind you and forgotten. For the most part.

So, you and Egon were the only two 'busters available for the job. He looked up a hotel near the old lady’s place so that on the way back you two had somewhere to sleep beside the car, and you kept your fingers crossed that it wouldn't be packed when you got there.

 The customer’s name was Gerda, she was a somewhat scary woman in her late 70s–living alone and content as so. She made sure to hammer that into your heads, saying how annoying the surprisingly quiet and low-rank the ghost haunting her was. Ms. Gerda wasn’t exactly the kindest woman, her thick German accent didn’t help much with that, either–but she thanked you after paying cash with weighted appreciation in her mother tongue. Then, she promptly kicked you out.

You left with the ghost trap still smoking, shoving it into the back of the car with the hope that it’d be fine overnight by itself as you drove to the hotel. You packed light, and thankfully neither of you were slimed, so you were mainly clean and sane looking as you entered the very busy lobby. You had stripped to your everyday clothes (plus a few jackets and scarfs for the cold) before walking into the building. It seemed busier inside than out.

You went to the desk ahead of Egon, bitterly cold and overly excited to get into a room with hot tea and a nice shower. And warm sheets, though they wouldn’t be very warm at first. "Sorry, there's only one available at the moment." The young lady at the desk said, blowing a bubble with her pink bubble gum. She didn't seem at all sorry, more annoyed that she had to be working and talking to customers.

Egon raised an eyebrow, noticing your failure to respond fast enough. You were just weighing your options. You and Egon, spending the night in the same room? What would he even think about that? He seemed like he was going to decline, probably offering to drive back to the station while you slept in the passenger seat–he was too nice like that sometimes. You wondered what you did to deserve his kindness.

“We’ll take it,” You said quickly, pulling out your wallet. Egon looked to you as if asking if you were sure, and you just shrugged. “I don’t want to drive all night and I’m sure you don’t either.” You whispered, earning an honest, semi-enthused grunt from the man.

"I'll sleep on the couch. Or the chair. Whatever's there.” Egon said slowly as you made your way down the hallway, your eyes glancing from the number attached to the key, to the room numbers. “You take the bed. I know your back hurts whenever you sleep on anything else," He said as he took the key and opened the door for you. You would’ve laughed at his words had you not fallen victim to his unintentional charm. He was too caring then, it caught you off guard. You simply didn’t spend enough time with the man to warrant such a reaction.

With Venkman, you got flirted with constantly, even when he was in a relationship with Dana. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested, or if he did it for shock factor. Probably the latter, but it was unnerving either way. He’d probably be trying to get you into bed if it’d been Peter who went on this trip with you. Winston, Winston was a good guy and a good friend. But sleeping in the same bed? You’d be embarrassed beyond words. The relationship between the two of you was strictly platonic–the same with Ray. 

But with Egon things were different. Way different. You wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with him, and your big fat crush on him certainly contributed to the idea that made your face turn red. He was gentle, kind. Awkward. But anyone would be awkward if they were as smart yet stupid as him. 

You were also surprised at how composed you were, taking initiative with the keys and the like. You wondered if Egon found it curious, how quick you were to agree to a one-bed situation. But if he was thinking about it, he didn’t say anything–all the words leaving his mouth were about the sleeping situation instead.

As you looked around the room, you both placed your bag on the bed and inspected the quite sad furniture. "You were saying?" You said. It was only the bed, a desk, and a broken chair–it’s back laying in the corner of the room. 

"The floor looks comfortable," He said, you knew he was joking. You snorted.

"Just sleep with me," You suggested, seemingly unphased. Though inside you certainly were not. At times like then, you were glad Egon couldn't read minds. "It's not like you've got another choice." You sighed, placing your bathroom bag on the nightstand beside you. 

"Plus, I'm not the only one with a bad back, Dr. six foot two.." You joked, your hands pointing towards him and wiggling. The eye contact almost made you drop, your knees threatening to buckle and break.

He blushed at your comment, removing his luggage from the bed just to do something with his hands. "Fine, if you're sure you're comfortable sharing with me." He said, face warm, but you didn’t notice as your mind was elsewhere. Aka, being lost in his eyes, which were then looking anywhere but back into yours.

"Well, why wouldn't I be? You're certainly not Venkman." You joked, but it was true. He was respectful in all regards. If he accidentally touched you, he'd apologize. Not many men did that, not many men you knew at least.

"I trust you," You said, quietly removing your bag as well and putting it on the floor to join Spengler’s. You heard a noise from his side, sounding like he was clearing his throat. You looked away, slightly embarrassed at what you’d admitted. "Well, it's not that late yet.. want a drink? They should have a water heater around here somewhere. Teabags too."

He sat down on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over his knee as he watched you inspect the little kitchen area. "If there are any." He shrugged–a nod somewhere in there as well–an awkward gesture of approval and appreciation. You smiled back.

You found the water heater, put it on, and made the two of you some tea. It wasn't the best tasting tea--they didn't give you any sugar, so you sipped reluctantly the rest of the night just to have something–free–in your stomach.

The hours passed, the clock reached 10 pm. "When do you usually sleep?" You asked as you shimmied your way under the sheets in your pajamas; sweatpants, and a t-shirt. Minus the socks, but you regretted taking them off as it got cold very quickly.

"Not this early," he admitted, pulling the blankets that I stole back over his lap as his eyes fixed on the book in his hand. "You go to sleep at ten, I assume?"

"And wake up at six." You nodded, a yawn escaping your lips. He looked down at you and smiled a bit before closing the book on his bookmark--the one you bought him for his birthday a year ago. He asked for no presents--nothing special, but you couldn't resist. 

"Well, you seem exhausted. Goodnight." You nodded at his words, closing your eyes. A part of you was disappointed at how quick he was to dismiss you to sleep--you had hoped to perhaps talk a bit into the night. But as the lamp light from his side of the bed turned off with the sound of a little click, the room plunged into a quiet darkness.

After a couple minutes you began to shake, you brought your hands to your mouth, hoping your breath would warm you. It took you a couple more minutes before you decided to speak up about it, the cold becoming too much. "Uh. Egon?" 

"Mm?" He didn't sound very tired at all. You felt somewhat silly to sleep next to a man who didn't want to sleep much at all.

"I know you're not big on touching me and stuff--"

"That's not what I meant," He interjected, but you kept talking.

"--but it's like, really, really cold. Can you hold me?" The plea came from your lips quickly, coldly--teeth chattering. You could hear him clear his throat quietly before making an almost inaudible sound of approval.

He turned on his side, bringing you into a hug. A very, very awkward hug. It felt warmer, but it felt a lot more awkward than you expected it to. So, you shifted on your side as well, facing him and pressing your face into him as you snuggled your body into his chest.

He didn't make a sound, but he seemed to have loosened a bit, his arms feeling less robotic around you. "See? Not so hard, now is it?" You giggled into his chest after another nice moment, words muffled into his sleep shirt.

He just tightened his arms around you, one palm laying flat on your back, his thumb rubbing sweet, soothing circles into your shoulder blade.

It felt nice, in that... ‘is this allowed?’ kind of way. You'd liked Egon for a while. Romantically, and not. Beforehand, that was. You were best friends before any real feelings surfaced. And cuddling with him just felt.. so right.

"You feel warm," He commented, causing you to press your hands to his chest, toying with the fabric of his button-up shirt with his matching trousers. God, he was such a silly man. You let yourself breathe, trying to resist the urge to inhale his scent. He smelled like… maplewood and pine. A hint of citrus too, you tried not to lose yourself in his aroma.

You could tell he was trying to see if you were faking it. Perhaps pretending to be cold so you could wrap yourself in his arms. "Mm, you're warmer. You feel so good," You murmured, snuggling closer if it was possible.

He gulped, you felt it, and his heartbeat was beating against your right fist as you balled up his shirt and let it go a few times. 

"Go to sleep," he hissed, and you looked up at him with a scrunched up nose, lightheartedly offended.

"Rude," You said, before scooting up, face closer to him. His eyes seemed to widen, and you couldn't help but chuckle at that.

"You can't sleep with your glasses on, Spengs." You took them off his face slowly before reaching over him to put them on his side of the nightstand. 

"I was not exactly planning to sleep just yet," His voice was nervous again.

"How am I supposed to sleep if you don't? Come on, close your eyes," You sighed, laying your head on his pillow--leaving your own behind in the sake of warmth. Your hands covered his eyes, and once you knew they were shut, you took your hands away. "There,"

"This is not doing much..." Egon chuckled, his thousand-dollar smile being flashed your way. It was beautiful, he was so beautiful.

You pressed your hands to his jaw, cupping his face as he smiled with his eyes closed, laughing at your stupid attempt to get him to sleep.

"Stop being so handsome or I swear I'm going to fall in love with you," The words left your mouth before you could really process them, thumbs caressing his cheeks.

He opened his eyes, meeting yours quickly. He muttered your name. You readied yourself for the worst, shutting your eyes tight to avoid seeing his face in the dark. You didn't want to see his discomfort, if there was any.

"Well, I should continue to be handsome then," He said, quiet, under his breath, but loud enough in the deathly silence that you could very possibly hear it from the damn bathroom. "Because I seem to already in love with you. I’ve just been hoping you felt the same." 

Your hands stayed on his face, cupping his cheeks a bit tighter--and you kissed him. He kissed you back. It certainly wasn’t the most skilled kiss you’ve ever been apart of, but it was certainly the best one you’d had. ‘Cause it was with Egon. And he’d admitted to you something you could’ve only dreamt of. That he loved you.

[imaginethatimaginethis]

Hello, dear :) I hope u r okay. Can I request quote 19 from your recent list? With Changkyun, please. I would like a little angst with a fluffy ending. Tysm for your work ❤️❤️❤️

Hi my love, thank you so much for your request! i hope, you like this im sorry for this not having a fluffy ending i was so immersed so if you don’t like it please let me know and i will write you another one.. (feedback is very much appreciated, if you don’t like it and if you like it)

im really unsure about this so i hope it’s good

i never proof read what i write bc as soon as i re read what i wrote, i immediately hate it and delete it. so scusi for any typos.

19. “If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.” - Changkyun

it was too cold to even say a word as the piercingly pain shot through your body. it felt like a thousand knives hitting the thousands of emotions that were inside you as they started to bleed.

your voice was even too sore to scream but all the energy left inside you made you take control of what was left for you.

“please, i’m begging you, please, he’s all that i have” you sobbed and with the last strength you tried to pull him out of the officers tight hands.

“miss please let go before we have to escort you out as well”

your arms were strongly grabbed by an police man that was coming behind you, holding you while they escorted your boyfriend into the car.

“miss we have to take you with us for a few questions” you pulled yourself away from the police man and ran to the car, trying to open the door and hitting the glass.

“please open, please please i’m begging you. he did nothing wrong please”

the engine of the car turned on and the only thing you saw was changkyun mouthing ‚i love you‘ before the car started driving away. you tried your best as you run behind it, falling on your knees as you cried out.

that was the only memory you had on this day, and you still don’t know what exactly happened until this date. so fast but so slow.

you opened an envelope, the fifth one this week as you scanned over it.

‚my dearest‘ this is how the letter started. unable to continue you placed the letter back on the table next to your coffee.

you sighed, rubbing over your face once more and when you eyes fell on the small box filled with letters you started crying softly.

3 years and 7 month, that’s how long you’ve kept the very first letter that’s in the box and from this, the letters piled up from week to week.

grabbing the letter from the table you started reading again.

‚my dearest, my love, the only thing that’s in my mind,

i don’t know how to start this letter, even though i always have something to write about that happened in my day. but i feel like this time i don’t really want to tell you about my day.

all these years have felt like a bad dream that i am just not waking up to. no matter what i’m doing it’s always the same bed, the same cell, the same people around me, the same four walls.

i cannot describe you how empty i’m feeling that this has gotten out of control. this was never something i wanted you to see. this was never the life for you, my love.

i feel like this is even to late but i’ve come to the realization that i am ruining your life with this. almost 4 years, and you cannot even visit me. the letters i write to you, the only thing that’s still keeping us from ending it all. i know that you’re reading them and i know that your reading this as well with the strength that’s left in you. i know.

i just wish i could stop your pain and hold you again. smell your sweet perfume and finally feel whole again. finally feel like a human who has his life together and you by my side. but i will probably never have the chance to. it’s not my right to mentally hold you hostage in my heart.

please understand that i would still, with my whole being, do everything and anything for you. i’d shake the world for you but my love, my dearest this has to stop.

i can not longer go to sleep knowing that you would wait another 10 years for me, ruining your life for someone like me. this is not how you are supposed to live. this is not the fate that was destined for you.

i will, maybe one day, come out of here and continue with my life but i will be another man. a man that was forgotten by the world, a forgotten soul. and i do not want you to wait at the gate for me. i do not want you to have my outcome as a goal in your life.

that’s why this will be my last letter to you.

so baby, go ahead, live your life, be the greatest person you already are and strive to be better, enjoy the life that was designed for your heart.

i will still have you in my heart but you will be free and i know, i know that it’s not going to be easy for you. but i want you to try. i know this is hard but please promise me to keep me next to your heart as well.

because if you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets.

forever your heart,

changkyun‘

the letter fell from your hands as you pushed your knees further to your face and sobbed harder, wondering how much more you would have to cry until you’re dried out and pass out on the floor.

and once again it felt like a thousand knives hitting the thousands of emotions that were inside you as you felt your body started to bleed this time, it tried to bleed all of your sadness away.

[crimsonophelia]

hi basil !! can i request for an imagine with zhongli and an adeptus reader? the reader has been in love w him since the archon war but never told him bc they were scared, and when rex lapis “dies” they’re absolutely crushed. but when they see a certain funeral consultant preparing his funeral, they tell him about their friendship w rex lapis and how they regret never telling him how they felt. thank you!

featuring: zhongli x gn!reader

warnings: angst, a little suggestiveness, some god complex stuff if you squint hard enough, typos lol

published: may 14, 2021

form: imagine

a/n: hi anon! thank you for the request~ i’m assuming reader recognizes zhongli in his mortal form and confesses in that way! in canon, it’s kind of dubious whether or not zhongli explicitly told the adepti that he actually isn’t dead, but i’m going to take some creative liberties and assume that he tells some of his adepti friends that he’s alive in person, like so~

Time slowed to a halt, as the body of the magnificent dragon, Rex Lapis, plummeted to the earth from the heavens, like a meteor summoned by Celestia. You felt like it was all a cruel, eldritch dream that the Archons had cursed you with, frozen among the crowd of onlookers, as the body tumbled, tumbled, and fell in a lump at the alter. Not a single sound emerged from the crowd, as they all stared in horror.

To them, their deity, their Archon who had pulled Liyue from the depths of the abyss and ascended it to wealth and prosperity, had come crashing down to earth in front of their eyes. But to you... Rex Lapis was your world. It was not Liyue that he saved from the grasp of darkness, but rather, you, you were the one he rescued. It was you to whom Rex Lapis had shown more compassion than you had ever thought possible coming from any living being—warm hands grasping your cold limbs, pulling you up, up, and up, into the light of day, giving you a purpose. A reason to live.

The body lied there, as Lady Ningguang acted fast, trying to ease the onlookers, her own horror still painted visibly upon her usually cold and composed countenance. The corpse of your god still retained some semblance of life, you thought, scales still glimmering with a slight sheen, mane fluttering in the wind of commotion, almost as if he were glowing with vibrant life not a few moments ago.

Please. Rex Lapis. Please don’t leave me. I have so much left to tell you. 

*****

“Master!”, you called. “Wait for me!”

You ran to catch up with archon, who had begun his daily routine of assessing the growth of his blossom trees. Tianheng Shan was a favorite location of Rex Lapis, particularly in the springtime when all the flowers on the treas began to bloom, and the glowing flowers that sprouted from the ground took root and broke up from beneath the soil.

Rex Lapis, hands locked behind his back, looked back at you, as you joined him at his side.

“Hello there, [y/n]. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

The archon really did behave like an old-spirited mortal, you thought. He had the mannerisms and idiosyncrasies down to a tee, certainly the polar opposite of the likes of Barbatos.

“I was just about to view the blossoms as well! They should be in season within a week or two”, you responded innocently. This certainly wasn’t an opportunity purely to spend time alone with Rex Lapis. You would never be so silly.

The both of you strolled along the banks of the river, eventually reaching an opening where tens, even hundreds, of pink-blossomed trees wove their way about the bottoms of the cavernous cliffs, some delicate petals already beginning to fall, sprinkling upon the river like memories across the stream of time.

Rex Lapis proceeded past you, craning his neck upwards to get a closer look at the blossoms. As he did so, the hood of his robe fell back down onto his shoulders, revealing long, silky locks of earthy amber resting upon shoulders as hardened as Cor Lapis.

“Quite lovely, aren’t they?”, he mused, almost absentmindedly. “These yinghua are often mistaken for taohua—yinghua do not produce fruit, and their blossoming period is much shorter.” For some reason, you thought, the archon’s gaze seemed to stray elsewhere, somewhere beyond the mass of trees.

“That is why the yinghua is renowned for its beauty. Its life is fleeting, yet so utterly captivating.”

Now, it was all gone. All that was left was a husk—a shell of the god you loved and devoted every ounce of your existence to. A mere gnarled tree that once possessed a beauty that transcended seasons.

*****

You entered the foyer of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, hearing the bell jingle solemnly as the door closed behind you. The place seemed to be rather empty, with nobody manning the front desk. Assorted coffins and various floral wreaths adorned the rooms of the parlor, a rather gauche little showroom of death. The taste and aesthetics reflected quite well the nature of the parlor’s director.

You treaded through the silent shop, wood creaking beneath your feet. The building must be quite old, you supposed.

“Hello?”, you called out. “Is anybody here?”

Before you could take another step, you heard a man’s voice coming from a back room, tucked away behind the main desk and obscured by a curtain.

“Just a minute, please. I will be with you shortly”, the voice called back.

After some further rustling emitting from what you guessed was the storage room, a man stepped out from behind the curtain, slightly ducking below the doorframe due to his rather imposing height.

Dressed in sharp formalwear, hair tied neatly behind his head in a long ponytail, he stepped forward from behind the desk. You noticed a geo vision dangling from the belt at his waist. How familiar, you thought. Something about him tugged at a string deep inside you, but for the life you, you couldn’t put a finger upon it.

“Greetings, how may I be of service to you?”, the man queried, amber eyes penetrating into you. There it was again. Maybe it was his voice, or his gaze, or perhaps just the way he carried himself, that felt so awfully familiar. His words seemed so... warm, even. Like some fond old memory that is slipping off the precipices of your brain. I must be going mad, you thought. One thousand years and still fawning over every handsome man I see.

Clearing your throat, you replied, “Yes, I am here on behalf of Lady Ningguang and the Qixing. We are looking for a supply of flowers to send off Rex Lapis at his funeral next week.” The man eyed you, curiously. “I was wondering if perhaps you could suggest a suitable flower wreath, preferably something in-season.”

Without a response, your odd companion began to walk towards an adjacent room attached to the lobby, hands crossed behind his back, quite like an old man, although he looked to be in his early thirties, at most. Assuming you were to follow, you stepped into a side room filled with vibrant flower wreaths of all sizes and colors.

The man begun to the scan the selection closely, as you stood to the side and watched him work. Oddly enough, the silence in the room wasn’t awkward, but was even quite comforting, in the same way a blanket warms a body.

Settling upon a modest, pink-flowered wreath of bouquets, he turned to you, indicating that he has decided upon a suggestion. He turned to you, those same eyes once again boring into you. Those were not the eyes of a young man, but something much, much more ancient, and for a moment, you stood frozen, frightened.

“Might I suggest the lovely yinghua? They are a personal favorite.”

White. White was all you saw for seconds, and when you opened your eyes, everything looked crisper, like a veil had been lifted. The world felt clearer, your thoughts came at you with greater clarity, but above all, it was no longer the funeral parlor manager that stood in front of you.

It was him. Rex Lapis.

The room started to twist and warp again, but this time not because of the spell of fog that the archon had cast to maintain your ignorance, but rather because of the salty tears clouding your vision, and the pressure of pure relief, joy, and utter agony that brought you collapsing to your knees, right then and there.

You couldn’t believe it. What about the body? Was that a mere fabrication ? Or was this vision before you an illusion, an echo of the past that had somehow manifested itself in front of you? Why would Rex Lapis do this to you, make you endure such pain? If he knew how much you loved him, how much gratitude you felt for him, how much you didn’t want to move on without him—

“Oh Archons, [y/n], please, I’m so, so sorry—”, he uttered. You felt a soft pressure surrounding you, as you became vaguely aware that the man you loved was now embracing you, the both of you huddled on the floor. “Please forgive me, I hate myself for it but I had to do it, and for the pain I have caused you, I’d much rather die, myself. ”

You could barely understand his words over the sound of your own weeping, forgoing all manners and letting your tears run free. You felt your master tighten his arms around your middle, as if scared to let you go, after already sacrificing you once.

You mustered up the strength to look up at him, seeing that now the dragon’s eyes themselves had become watery with emotion, something you had never seen in the archon before. The regret you felt was threatening to burst from your throat, a lump preventing you from being civil, or talking like a proper adeptus, or confessing your feelings to the man who you owed your life to. No more. No more weakness that plagued your heart for centuries. You may never have this opportunity again.

“[y/n], I beg of you, please forg-“

You pulled your savior’s face towards you, and without hesitation, placed your lips upon his. Too long, had this moment been forgone, and the both of you knew it, as the archon gradually deepened the kiss, intertwining his hands through your hair. This was life. The clarity of it all, the energy surging into you from the points where your skin touched, the infinity of your lips melding against his. This is the god you worshipped and would lay your life down for. Without him, there is nothing.

His lips, initially hesitant, grew more confident, more desperate as they clung onto yours. His fingers were soft as they traced the back of your neck, as if trying to memorize each one of your vertebrae. A feral yearning, something only a dragon was capable of, was unhinging behind Rex Lapis’ ministrations, as you proudly latched yourself deeper into him. The silence of the parlor was now filled with heavy pants and the rustling of fabric, as the two of you clung onto each other, one not wanting to depart before the other.

As you felt the breath in your lungs dwindling, having given all of your life and energy to Rex Lapis’ mortal body, you pulled yourself off of him. Streaks of wetness along his cheeks glinted in the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows. His hair had become undone in the minutes where he had been attached to you, and his face showed something of a quenched desperation. He was mortal, and he was perfect.

“Promise me. Promise me, that you will stay by my side forever.”

a/n: ohoho i hope you like it anon~ this is a little bit spicier than i usually write but tbh i kinda vibe w it

[dimpledlavendeer]

Enhypen reaction to finding their s/o crying

warnings: actually none because this is fluff but please don't read if you are a sensitive person ♡

May contain typos

I wrote this because one of my friends gave me the idea while we were talking ♡

A reminder that requests are now open ♡

Heeseung 𖦹

Heeseung would be so worried for you

He would immediately pull you into his arms when he realized your red eyes and the tears on you cheeks

He would wipe your tears with his thumbs and place small kisses everywhere on your face

His eyes would get teary too

He would constantly tell you sweet things while kissing your forehead

"I'm here okay, you aren't alone, I would never leave you alone."

He wouldn't let go of you from the hug until you calm down and say you're okay or at least he sees your smile

He would patiently wait for you to tell him without pressuring you to tell what it was about

When you do tell him he would listen to you pulling you onto his lap while laying on the bed and stroking your hair slowly

He would lay on the bed with you for hours cuddling you, would sing to you when he sees you eyelids getting heavier and you struggle to keep them open, you would find peace in his arms and voice

Jay 𖦹

His eyes would burn when he sees tears falling from eyes to your cheeks

His rage would built up so fast, he would be so ready to throw hands to whoever that made you so upset

He would run to you and cup your face, pressing his lips on yours

You would tell him what happened while your face was buried on his chest

He would let out couple of curse words out of frustration

He would help you wash your face and then take you out for a ride around the city to calm you down

He would buy you ice cream to eat while he is driving and he would let you choose any song you want to play

He would never let go of your hands

When you guys get back home he would convince you to took a warm bath while he cooks for you

He would make sure you drown in his small little presents thru the whole week too, buying cute plushies, accessories anything he thought that would look cute

Jake 𖦹

He called you after practice to let you know he was getting out a little bit earlier today

When he heard you sniffing he knew something wasn't right

He asked if everything was okay and you couldn't help your voice from cracking

He would say he's gonna be there in 10 minutes and literally rush to your place because he would be extremely worried

He would buy all kinds of stuff on his way to your place whether it's food or something else

He would drop everything on the floor once you open the door for him and just pull you in his arms

He would ask questions non stop because he would be so panicked

"What happened? Are you okay? Who made you cry? How can I help? Do you want me to get you something?.."

And then he would Apologize for asking too many questions while pecking your lips

Honestly his little clumsiness would make you smile a little <33

Sunghoon 𖦹

You were supposed to meet with Sunghoon to go out today but you couldn't because you had a bad argument with one of your classmates

You left school early and just closed yourself into your room turning your phone off

You didn't even bother to change your clothes or remove your make up and you just throw yourself to bed

Eventually you fall asleep while crying

Sunghoon called you many times but could never reach you, he tried texting you to but you never responded so he got worried and a little bit pissed off so he stormed into your place yelling your name

When you didn't answer back his worries grow even more until he opened the door of your bedroom and saw your crawled body on the mattress

His heart would break into million pieces when he saw your ruined make up due to your crying

He would accidentally wake you up while caressing your cheeks and smile to you asking if you were alright

He would let you cry laying on the bed like that while patiently listening to you and when he made sure you're done crying he would clean your face with a napkin

He wouldn't tell you anything but he would probably see that one person who made you cry and make sure they can never disturb you again bc that's how protective he is

Sunoo 𖦹

This little bean would literally shed tears with you

His heart couldn't take seeing you cry

He was at your place for a sleep over and went to the kitchen to get you both snacks

But when he came back he saw you crying because you missed your family

He would throw snacks to a side and come to hug you

He would say that he understands you while slowly patting your back and telling it's okay

Meanwhile he also would get teary eyed but will deny that he also cried

He would tell you some of his embarrassing school memories to make you laugh

Or put a random song on would drag you to dance with him

Eventually you would give in to his cuteness and dance with him because you know he's just trying to make you feel better by trying to distract you from bad thoughts

Jungwon 𖦹

You went to visit jungwon while they were practicing for their comeback

But while you were watching them practice you found out that you failed one of your classes so your expression unintentionally changed

When you felt that your tears building up inside you, you get out to wash your face

When you get into the restroom you couldn't help but to shed a few tears bc you tried your best but it was just not enough

You got stratled when you heard the sound of the door opening and you turned your back yo hide your face while trying yo wipe off your tears

You heard him calling you "y/n are you.. are you crying? Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine" you would say buy your voice would be enough for him to understand

"Then look at me or I am getting inside." He would say because he isn't the type to let you suffer alone like that when he knows you are not okay

He would buy you something warm while you two talk, after he patiently waits for you to finish your talk he would also mention the mistakes he makes to show you that it's normal and he would invite you to their dorm for that night for a movie marathon

He would mention to the boys that you weren't feeling well so when you go to their dorm at night all of them would baby you, of course jungwon in the first place, he would let you tease him all you want instead of teasing you for that night and would actually do some embarrassing stuff to make you smile

Ni-Ki 𖦹

He would realize something was off when you didn't respond to one of his jokes the way you usually do

His playful mode would totally turn Into serious when he realizes you are more silent than you normally are, sitting with a poker face

He would be hesitant to come and ask you what was wrong so instead of talking at the first place he would come and sit next to you silently

He would give shy glances at you while sitting like that, honestly I see him as pretty patient person so he would actually sit there in silent like that until you decide to talk with him

His presence would actually make you feel better since he is just trying to show you that you aren't alone with his actions because he is rather a shy person when it comes to things like this

When you start talking about your day and talk about what was bothering you, he would remain silent, nodding at your words sometimes to show you he listens

He would start talking when you ask about his opinion, he would say things that will not only make you feel better but actually would help you see things in a better way

He would remind you to not be so hard on yourself even tho he is so young he is very mature

He is that type of person that you can sit with for hours even tho you don't really talk because his presence next to you would be comforting enough

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

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

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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