#and they didn’t really take it seriously

[theetherealbloom]

The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You

Summary: Amidst the whirlwind of movie premieres and busy schedules, you and Pedro Pascal, both thriving in your respective careers, find ways to celebrate each other despite the distance. While Pedro promotes Gladiator 2 in London, he longs for your presence at the after-party.

Or, you two would scream at the stars for keeping you apart... and the government too.

“Pedro Pascal x f!reader, Pedro is promoting Gladiator 2, and reader is in Wicked (Elphaba or Galinda of course!) for the screenplay of Wicked, and they are just really supportive of each other but also joke about their own movie being the best. Finding time to come to each other’s premiers. Posting behind the scenes or visiting each other.” — From @imaginemixedfandom

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Red Carpet, Cameras, Paparazzi, Long Distance, Timezone Difference, Social Media, Interviews, I’m not a Spanish speaker, I might be wrong with the terms, please don’t come after me T^T,

Word Count: 4.4k

A/N: Ty @imaginemixedfandom for giving the idea! I didn’t really want to replace the reader with the cast of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Those two are just too iconic. So instead I will make the reader a writer for the screenplay adaptation of Wicked tehe. You all should listen to brent iii by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler, it’s absolutely one of my favorite albums of this year. Lastly, remember this is all fictional and for fun! Enjoyyyy my loves!

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: and the government too! By Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler

gif by @andrew-garfielld

| Main Masterlist |

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING

“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you nestled deeper into the duvet, your body cocooned in its comforting folds.

“Hola, mi amor.” Pedro’s face lit up on your phone screen, the warm timbre of his voice washing over you like a balm. “I miss you.” “I miss you too… so much,” you replied with a little pout. The time difference between London and New York was merciless. Between his packed schedule promoting Gladiator 2 and prepping for Fantastic Four, and your whirlwind of work with the Wicked movie premiere, your conversations had been reduced to stolen moments like this. Still, even through a screen, Pedro had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. “You look cozy,” he said with a lopsided grin, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off here on set. I think my nose might fall off.” You laughed softly, the sound tinged with longing. “I’d trade you, you know. I’ll take the cold if it means I get to see you.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He leaned closer to the camera, his face filling your screen. “If I weren’t contractually obligated to be here, I’d hop on the next flight and show up at your premiere tomorrow. Red carpet and all.” You smiled wistfully, your fingers brushing against the edge of your phone as if you could reach through it to touch him. “You’d outshine me. Imagine the headlines: ‘Pedro Pascal steals the show at Wicked premiere.’” “Please. Everyone’s going to be talking about you. ‘Brilliant screenwriter dazzles Hollywood!’” He paused, his tone softening. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Your throat tightened at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Stop, or I’ll actually cry, and my face will be all puffy for tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But seriously, mi amor, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” “And so have you,” you countered. “The Gladiator 2 trailer broke the internet, and you still found time to send me flowers last week. You’re amazing, Pedro.” “Yeah, but flowers aren’t the same as being there with you.” His voice dipped, a hint of regret slipping through. “I hate being this far away.” You sighed, your heart aching in tandem with his. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the unspoken tension of your shared longing. Then, Pedro’s grin returned, bright and mischievous. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “who do you think has the better movie? Be honest.”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Are you seriously asking me to compare Wicked to Gladiator 2? One’s a heartfelt, magical adaptation, and the other is a testosterone-filled epic. They’re different.”

“Uh-huh,” he teased, crossing his arms. “Sounds like you’re dodging the question. I knew you were scared to admit Gladiator 2 is better.”

You scoffed, sitting up straighter in bed. “Scared? Please. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings when Wicked inevitably becomes a global phenomenon.”

Pedro laughed, the sound rich and contagious. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, this would be grounds for war.”

“Lucky? You’re the lucky one,” you shot back, smirking. “I’ll prove it when I finally see you in person again. But until then…”

You brought the phone closer, pressing a soft kiss to the screen. Pedro mimicked your gesture, his lips brushing his camera lens.

“Goodnight, mi vida,” he murmured.

“Goodnight, Pedro.” Your voice was tender, laced with all the love you couldn’t put into words.

As the call ended, you clutched the phone to your chest, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Despite the distance, despite the chaos of your lives, you knew one thing for certain: Pedro Pascal would always be worth the wait.

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — MORNING

Today was the day. You were walking the red carpet for the Wicked movie premiere. A sea of celebrities, producers, fellow writers, and editors would surround you. The sheer magnitude of it all left you feeling both giddy and utterly petrified.  

You smoothed your hands over the silk robe you wore, your palms damp with nerves. While you loved the craft of storytelling, the spotlight had always felt daunting. You preferred to let your work speak for itself—a tendency that paired surprisingly well with dating Pedro Pascal, the literal human embodiment of charisma and charm.  

“There, all done,” Laura, your makeup artist, said with a satisfied grin.  

You blinked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin glowed, your eyes were accentuated just enough to look striking without overwhelming, and your lips were painted a perfect shade of confidence.  

“You’ve outdone yourself,” you said, giving her a warm smile.  

“Of course I did,” Laura replied with a wink. “Big night for my favorite screenwriter.”  

Mia, your stylist, emerged from behind a rack of gowns, holding up the dress. “Speaking of big nights... Ready to put this beauty on?”  

You nodded, though your smile wavered. “I just wish Pedro were here,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.  

Laura and Mia exchanged sympathetic glances before Laura gently squeezed your shoulder. “You’re going to look incredible, and he’d lose his mind if he saw you. How about we take some pictures to send him? A little preview for the man himself.”  

You hesitated, glancing at your phone on the vanity. “I don’t want to distract him. He’s busy with interviews and set work. London and New York aren’t exactly next door…”  

“All is fair in love and war,” Laura teased, her giggle breaking the tension. “Come on, babe! If anything, it’ll be motivation for him to hop on the next flight.”  

Mia chimed in, smirking. “Or just to remind him what he’s missing. Trust me, teasing Pedro is a public service.”  

You laughed despite yourself, feeling the nerves lift slightly. “Fine, fine. But if he complains, I’m blaming you two.”  

They ushered you into the dress—a masterpiece of emerald silk and intricate detailing that clung perfectly in all the right places. As Mia zipped you up, Laura stepped back, her hands pressed dramatically over her heart.  

“Pedro’s going to lose his shit.”  

“You look like a literal goddess,” Mia added, spinning you toward the mirror.  

For a moment, you hardly recognized yourself. The reflection staring back radiated elegance and confidence, even if you didn’t entirely feel it yet.  

“Okay, okay. Take the pictures,” you relented, biting your lip as you tried to contain your grin.  

Laura grabbed your phone and started snapping. You struck a few playful poses, twirling and laughing as Mia adjusted the hem of your dress. It felt silly, but imagining Pedro’s reaction warmed your chest.  

Once the photos were taken, you grabbed your phone and hovered over the message screen. You debated for a moment, then attached the best photo and typed a quick message.  

You: Wish you were here. But since you’re not... Enjoy this. Don’t let it distract you too much, cariño.  

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, the familiar swoosh of the message sending making your heart race.  

The reply came faster than you expected.  

Pedro: Distract me? How am I supposed to do anything now? You look like an angel. No, better than an angel. Drop-dead stunning. 

You couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face.  

Pedro: Red carpet better be ready. They’ve got no idea who they’re dealing with tonight.  

The butterflies in your stomach multiplied tenfold. Before you could reply, another message appeared.  

Pedro: I’m so proud of you. Go knock ’em dead, mi amor. I love you.  

Your throat tightened, and you had to blink back the sudden tears threatening to ruin Laura’s hard work. You tapped out a quick reply.  

You: I love you too. Now go back to being the coolest man alive.  

“You okay over there?” Mia asked, watching you with a knowing smile.  

“More than okay,” you said softly, tucking your phone away.  

As you prepared to step into the whirlwind of the premiere, Pedro’s words echoed in your mind. Even from thousands of miles away, he made you feel invincible.  

Tonight wasn’t just about the red carpet or the glitz and glamour. It was about celebrating what you loved—and knowing Pedro would always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter where in the world he was.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON — AFTERNOON  

Pedro sighed deeply, his head resting against the back of his chair. The steady hum of activity on set felt like background noise, the voices and clatter muffled by the ache in his chest. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the motion absent-minded, a physical echo of the restlessness he felt inside.  

He missed you.  

It wasn’t the casual longing of someone who hadn’t seen their partner in a while—it was the kind of yearning that settled into his bones, heavy and persistent. A few hundred miles of ocean separated you, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.  

He opened his phone and scrolled back to the picture you’d sent him that morning. The emerald dress, the way it hugged your form, the way your eyes sparkled even in a still image—it took his breath away. You looked like a dream. His dream.  

“If I were there right now…” he murmured under his breath, running his thumb over the screen as if he could touch you.  

If it were as simple as hopping on a flight, he’d already be on his way. He imagined the way you’d light up when you saw him, how you’d rush into his arms. He’d bury his face in your hair, inhale your scent, and hold you so tightly that he’d forget about the world outside.  

But it wasn’t that simple. The timing was off, as it so often was with both your careers in full swing. He was tied to the production schedule of Fantastic Four, and you were in the spotlight for Wicked. The universe seemed determined to keep you apart, and for the first time in years, Pedro felt the cracks in his patience.  

He closed his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Damn stars. Damn schedules. Damn… government,” he muttered bitterly. The laugh that followed was humorless, the frustration thick in his voice.  

If he could, he’d scream at the stars for conspiring against you both. Curse the invisible forces that made life so complicated. He’d barter with time itself, twist it and stretch it, just to have you here with him for a few stolen moments.  

He wondered what you were doing right now. Were you nervous about the red carpet? Did you feel as hollow without him as he felt without you? Pedro clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him. You deserved to have him there, to walk that carpet with you, to hold your hand and beam with pride as you took in the applause for your work.  

“Pedro, they’re ready for you!”  

The call from a production assistant jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, the weight of reality crashing back down as he stood and stretched.  

“Be right there,” he called back, tucking his phone into his pocket.  

As he made his way back to the soundstage, he couldn’t shake the thought of tomorrow. The Gladiator 2 premiere loomed ahead, another milestone he should be celebrating with you by his side. Instead, you’d be halfway across the world.  

But one day, he promised himself, one day, nothing will keep us apart.  

NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING 

The flashing lights were relentless, casting an almost blinding glow over the red carpet. The screams of fans and the constant click of cameras created a symphony of chaos, one you weren’t entirely comfortable navigating. You’d always preferred the quiet—curled up with a book, tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.  

But tonight, you smiled and posed alongside your cast and the production crew. You owed it to them, to yourself, and to the story you’d helped bring to life.  

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Winnie Holzman, the original writer of Wicked, leaned in with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the crowd.  

You nodded, though your voice was tinged with nervousness. “It’s incredible. Overwhelming, but in the best way.”  

“You’ve done amazing work,” Dana Fox chimed in, her excitement infectious. “We wouldn’t be standing here without your screenplay tying it all together.”  

Jon M. Chu, ever the cheerleader, clapped you lightly on the back. “Tonight’s your night too. Own it.”  

You laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease with their encouragement. Together, the four of you posed for the cameras, sharing a few candid laughs before heading closer to the press area.  

As you stepped into the spotlight for interviews, the questions started flying.  

“How does it feel to see Wicked finally come to life on the big screen?”  

“It feels surreal,” you answered, your smile genuine. “Everyone on this project has poured so much heart into it. To see it come together like this is... overwhelming in the best way.”  

“You’re known for being quite private. How are you handling all the attention tonight?”  

“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’m surrounded by such a talented and supportive team, which makes it easier.”  

Then, inevitably, came the question you’d been bracing for. “We couldn’t help but notice that Pedro Pascal isn’t here tonight. Do you miss him?”  

The question tugged at something deep inside you. “I miss him so much,” you said softly, your expression softening. “He’s busy promoting Gladiator 2 and filming in London. I know he wishes he could be here, just like I wish I could be there for him. We’re both incredibly proud of each other, though.” You grinned, a playful sparkle in your eyes. “But, of course, Wicked is better. Don’t tell him I said that.”  

The interviewer laughed, and you followed with a wink before stepping away.  

AFTER THE PREMIERE  

As the credits rolled and the crowd applauded, you walked alongside Jon, Winnie, and Dana toward the exit. The night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the theater.  

“You were glowing on that carpet,” Winnie teased, nudging you gently.  

Jon smirked. “Bet it’s because of a certain someone who couldn’t make it.”  

You flushed immediately, your cheeks warming. “Stop,” you mumbled, though your smile betrayed your embarrassment.  

“Oh, come on,” Dana added with a laugh. “You were gushing about him earlier. Just admit it—you’re head over heels.”  

You sighed dramatically, though your heart raced just thinking about Pedro. “Okay, fine. I miss him like crazy. I just—” You paused, glancing up at the stars. “I wish I could be there for him, you know? For his premiere. He’s always so supportive of me. It feels wrong not to do the same.”  

Jon stopped walking, turning to face you with a thoughtful look. “So go.”  

“What?”  

“Go to him,” he said with a shrug. “Take the jet. I’ll make the call.”  

You blinked at him, stunned. “You—you’d let me do that?”  

“Of course,” Jon said, waving off your concern. “You’re part of the heart of this project. If being with him makes you happy, it’s worth it.”  

“But I don’t have a ticket, and I need to pack, and—”  

Dana held up a hand, already pulling out her phone. “Relax. I’ll call a car, and we’ll pack together. You just focus on getting there.”  

Before you could protest further, Jon had already stepped aside, dialing someone on his phone. Dana grabbed your arm and started steering you toward the waiting car.  

“You’re really doing this,” she said, grinning.  

“I—I guess I am.” Your voice trembled with excitement and nerves. “What if I don’t make it in time? What if—”  

Dana cut you off with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “You’ll make it. And even if you don’t, just being there will mean everything to him.”  

AT THE AIRPORT  

The private jet was waiting for you, its sleek frame illuminated by the glow of the runway lights. You quickly texted Pedro’s manager and assistant, letting them know you were on your way.  

You: I’m coming to London. Please don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise.  

The response was almost immediate:  

Franklin Latt: Got it. He’s going to lose his mind—in the best way.  

As you settled into your seat and the jet began to taxi, your heart raced. Seven hours separated you from Pedro, but for the first time in days, the distance didn’t feel insurmountable.  

You leaned your head back against the seat, clutching your phone tightly as you closed your eyes. You could already picture the look on his face when he saw you.  

Just hold on, Pedro. I’m on my way.  

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING

The energy in Leicester Square was electric. Fans filled the barricades, the roar of excitement nearly drowning out the camera flashes as Pedro made his way down the red carpet. Dressed in a sharp black shirt, the top unbuttoned, slacks, his signature charm, and a warm smile lit up every interaction as he stopped to greet fans and pose for photos.

The press area was bustling, and soon Pedro found himself standing in front of a journalist holding a microphone.

“Pedro, congratulations on Gladiator 2! How does it feel to be here tonight celebrating this film?”

Pedro grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It feels incredible. This is one of those projects you dream about as an actor, and to see it all come together, to see everyone’s hard work pay off, it’s… it’s a real honor.”

The interviewer nodded. “You’ve had an amazing year, between this and your other projects. But we couldn’t help but notice that someone special in your life had a big night recently—the Wicked premiere in New York. Did you get a chance to see any photos?”

Pedro’s face lit up instantly, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. She sent me some pictures, and I’ve seen the ones floating around online too. I mean… she looked absolutely stunning. Like, knock-you-out, breathtakingly gorgeous. I might be a little biased, but still.”

The crowd nearby caught wind of his gushing, and a few cheers erupted. Pedro laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Honestly, I’m so proud of her,” he continued, his voice softening. “She poured so much of herself into that screenplay, and to see her get the recognition she deserves? It’s the best feeling in the world.”

The interviewer smiled. “There’s definitely a lot of love and mutual admiration between you two. Word on the street is you’ve got a bit of a friendly competition going on—Gladiator 2 versus Wicked. Any truth to that?”

Pedro chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s absolutely true. We’ve got a bet going. She’s convinced Wicked is going to sweep the box office, and I, of course, have complete faith in Gladiator 2. Let’s just say the stakes are high—winner gets breakfast in bed for a week.”

The interviewer laughed along with him. “That’s adorable. Who’s winning so far?”

Pedro smirked. “Let’s just say she’s got me a little worried. But I’ll never admit that to her.”

LATER, BACKSTAGE

Pedro leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of water while chatting with Paul Mescal. Their conversation flowed easily, but Pedro’s gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, as if hoping for some sort of miracle.

“You’ve got that look again,” Paul teased, nudging him with his elbow.

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning ignorance.

“The ‘I’m desperately in love and missing my girl’ look,” Paul quipped with a grin.

Denzel Washington, who had just joined the conversation, chuckled. “He’s not wrong, man. You’ve been staring off into space like a lovesick teenager.”

Joe Quinn walked by, overhearing the exchange and throwing in his two cents. “It’s cute, though. Very romantic. Someone should write a movie about it.”

Pedro rolled his eyes, though a bashful smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, I miss her. Can you blame me? She’s halfway across the world, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Frank, Pedro’s manager, stepped in, giving him a supportive pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, buddy. But hey, it’s not a bad problem to have.”

Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, already knowing what Pedro didn’t—that you were on your way. He could only imagine Pedro’s reaction when he saw you walk through those doors.

“Alright,” Pedro said with a dramatic sigh, “can we please focus on the fact that we’re here for Gladiator 2 and not my love life?”

“Sure,” Paul said, smirking. “But if she shows up, we’re all watching you lose it.”

Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that bet.”

Little did he know, he was about to owe a lot of people a round of drinks.

UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING  

The crowd in the after-party buzzed with excitement, a mix of A-list chatter and glasses clinking. Pedro stood near Lux, their conversation about the night’s success lighthearted, though his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the ache of missing you hadn’t dulled, even amidst all the celebration.  

Lux, sharp-eyed as always, caught the slight shift in his expression and smirked. “You’ve got that look again,” she teased.  

“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning nonchalance as he sipped his drink.  

“The one that screams, ‘I wish she were here.’” Lux nudged his arm playfully.  

Before he could muster a witty retort, Lux’s eyes darted toward the entrance, widening in surprise. “Well, speak of the devil…”  

Pedro turned, following her gaze, and the breath left his lungs.  

There you were, stepping into the room, your black silk gown catching the dim lights perfectly. Your hair, slightly tousled from the rush, framed your face with an effortless beauty that made his heart stop. Heads turned as you walked in with Frank, but Pedro didn’t notice anyone else.  

He froze, jaw slack, his mind racing to comprehend that you were actually here.  

“Pedro,” Lux whispered, amused. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”  

But Pedro couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch as you walked toward him, the soft smile on your lips turning into a grin as your eyes met his. He vaguely registered Joe, Paul, and Denzel laughing nearby, but he didn’t care. You were here.  

When you finally stopped in front of him, your grin widened, and you quipped, “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was terrible—there’s a movie premiere happening, and I—”  

Before you could finish, Pedro moved.  

He swept you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as a chorus of cheers, whistles, and laughter erupted around you. You let out a surprised giggle, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he held you close, burying his face against your shoulder.  

“Dios mío,” Pedro murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here.”  

“I’m here,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his curls.  

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with love. “I can’t believe this. You’re really here.”  

You smiled, tears threatening to spill as you cupped his face. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”  

Pedro didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance, kissing you with a fervor that made the entire room fade away. The kiss was deep, all-consuming, and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.  

Your laughter broke the moment, and Pedro pressed his forehead to yours, his hands still firmly around your waist as if afraid you might disappear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.  

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.  

“For being here. For being you. For… everything.” His voice was low, reverent. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop thanking the universe for it.”  

You kissed him again, a soft press of lips this time, and smiled against his mouth. “You don’t have to thank the universe. Just let me love you.”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you. “You’re incredible, you know that?”  

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you teased, resting your head against his chest as the room slowly came back into focus.  

From the sidelines, Joe nudged Paul, chuckling. “Think he’s gonna let her go anytime soon?”  

Paul smirked. “Not a chance.”  

Denzel clinked his glass against Joe’s. “Now that’s a man in love.”  

And Pedro? He didn’t care about the laughter, the cameras, or even the early morning call time tomorrow. For now, you were in his arms, and nothing else mattered.

[queennightingale]

…

Bruce Wayne was not surprised when he got a call from the school his son attended, though it had been a while. Upon answering the phone, he got a weird story.

“I’m sorry, my son is in the nurses office?”

…

“Another student punched him…”

…

“I’ll be right there, yes.”

Bruce drove to the school from work, and upon entering the building, was led to the nurses office almost immediately, where his son was sat with another child- apparently the kid who punched him.

“Sir, I am SERIOUSLY sorry for punching Damian- I really didn’t mean it-“

“Danny, I have already told you it is alright. Father, it was my fault for his actions towards my person.”

Bruce was surprised. His son called someone by a name that SOUNDED like a nickname, plus he’s immediately taking the blame? What happened.

Yes, Damian has improved greatly since he was brought to the manor (however many years ago), but he still had some… socializing to work on. And he often defended himself still, so these actions, especially together, were rather shocking.

“Dude! I socked you in the face! Why are you still apologizing?”

“I caused a trauma response, Danny. A response that was purely instinctual and not intentional, and therefore, not your fault.” Damian said with his blunt, no- back talk voice that he somehow learned from Alfred (even Bruce hadn’t learned it perfectly yet).

“Yes, but-“

“No. I should not have used your full name, nor touched you when you were not expecting it. I suffered the consequences of my actions. Sure, most people are fine with it, but knowing that you’re rather skittish and defensivewhen your full name comes up in the roster, I could have at least avoided such a mistake.again, it is my fault.”

With this, Damian turned to Bruce.

“Father. I am fine. I did receive a broken nose, yes, but at my own expense. Please. Do not let the school punish my classmate.” Damian said, again using that no nonsense tone.

Bruce was truly shocked, but nodded.

“Of course, Chum. And Danny, was it? You’re not in trouble. Not if I can help it.” Bruce said.

Danny, who was tense the whole time, relaxed slightly.

“T…thank you… sir.”

“Call me Bruce, kiddo.”

(I tried to make them in character but I don’t know how I did)

Danny's flight or fight response has quite the hair trigger for a few select phrases most being things vlad would say

One such being his full name a bit odd but there's a reason he always asks to be called danny

So really it's not his fault after joining the school in gotham he had been introduced to his class and he'd told them to call him danny

And he hadn't heard him all he'd heard was someone calling him danial and putting a hand on his shoulder

So really he can't be blamed for how he reacted he told everyone not to call him Daniel and he snuck up and called him daniel

How can he be blamed for breaking Damien waynes nose

[obxsummer]

snow angel // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: the zoning hearing was already in the kooks favor, but they make sure to really dig deep in the wound. jj's faced with the ugly realization that luke maybank will always be a piece of shit, and sarah's there to talk you off a ledge when john b can't.

warnings: oh no not the ultima!, crash out rage, reader pushes john b, cursing, shoupe..... being nice?

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything or support me via a ko-fi

--

City Hall was more packed than you had anticipated. Apparently John B’s plan had worked, which led to the group of you being surrounded by somewhat familiar faces in the small room. 

“I want to remind everyone to maintain civility and decorum throughout the rest of these proceedings,” The mayor reminded as the session resumed after a small break. You sat next to Sarah with JJ on your other side, the latter squeezing your hand in his. “We’re one island. Why don’t we all try to act like it? Any disruption will warrant expulsion and potential charges.”

You glanced at JJ, trying to communicate silently that he needed to take that seriously. You guys needed all the help you could get right now and if he acted out, it would be another nail in the coffin.

“Without further ado, we’ll start with our council members, beginning with Council Member Lawrence.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor. Agenda 8A, ordinance 31, zoning for the property located at the end of Roger’s Point Road. Uh, Mr. Mayor, we have a resolution from the town of Pelican expressing support for the rezoning of multi-use land on the east side of the island, including the aforementioned Roger’s Point Road property.”

Confused glances were shared amongst your group, realizing you might not even get a chance to defend your home. 

Pope leaned in, “Did he just say they already had a resolution?”

The question went unanswered as the council member continued, “The council is voting to recommend allocating the amount of $60,000 to begin to transition that said property…”

The sound faded from your ears as you stared ahead blankly. As much as you wished you could say you didn’t see this coming, the whole town was practically against you since day one. 

“....beginning with a representative from the occupants of the Roger’s Point property, which used to be the Maybank property.”

Your hand clamped on JJ’s flannel collar instantly, holding him down in his seat before he had a chance to go up there and rage on everyone. He tried to move out of your hold before your other hand moved down on his thigh to keep him in one spot. 

Looking past Sarah, you made eye contact with John B. “Go.”

Your brother pointed at himself in confusion, likely anxious to go speak before the rest of the group voiced their agreements. Cheering followed as John B stood up, making his way over you and JJ to walk up to the podium that was in the center of the room.

“Yeah, John B!”

“Alright! Let’s go!”

You let a rushed breath escape between your lips and loosened your grip on JJ’s hoodie but kept your hand on his thigh. He clapped loudly as your brother tapped on the microphone before the room quieted per the mayor’s request.

“Please state your name for the record.”

John B anxiously tapped his fingers against the wooden stand in front of him. “I am John Booker Routledge.”

More applause followed his statement before it was hushed again, the room open for your brother to speak.

“Look, I’m… I’m not a lawyer, by any standard… but honestly, this doesn’t make any sense. I mean, we bought the property at auction, and we have a fully functioning business and have had for some time. And-and now you have a motion for rezoning on our property? And if it passes, we lose our business. And we lose our home.”

“Because of some bullshit!” “The fix is in!”

“This isn’t fair!”

“They’ve got a right!”

You glanced around at the crowd who was starting to get to their feet in frustration. JJ grabbed your hand from his thigh and tightened his grip, the first sign his emotions were heating up. The mayor banged his gavel in attempts to calm the courtroom.

“Sit down, let him speak, and shut the hell up!” 

Once the room quieted down, the mayor motioned for John B to continue. “Mr. Routledge you can continue.”

John B looked down at the podium and you could see him taking calculated breaths to keep his nerves calm. Your brother was never the best at public speaking, but he’d been a leader his whole life, and you had full confidence in him to represent you in any instance.

“As most of you know, myself, my sister, and Sarah, we lost our fathers last year. All we are trying to do is rebuild a home. That’s it. Sir, with all due respect, we’re not looking for a handout. We just want to keep our home, alright?”

The rowdiness erupted as frustration seeped into John B’s words. It was obvious the Kooks were on the opposing side of the room with the way they were all glowering and sitting. One man got to his feet, asking to interrupt whatever John B was getting at. 

“Excuse me, excuse me. May I speak?” When the mayor gave his approval, the man continued, “There seems to be a misunderstanding. Okay? And I think I can clarify.”

JJ groaned loudly as Mr. Zeasy, the realtor who approved this whole shitshow, tried to walk up to the stand.

“Mr. Routledge, you have the floor. Are you willing to let Mr. Zeasy speak?”

Your brother leaned closer to the microphone, annoyance clear on his face. “If you can explain it a little better, Dale.” John B took a step back to let him move forward, giving him the opportunity. 

“So, what the, uh, current occupants of the land don’t seem to understand is that there is an injunction to invalidate the most recent sale.”

Your attention flipped to Pope immediately. “What does that mean? Invalidate it how?”

“There was a pre-existing promissory note from the original owner that was in the process of being finalized when the land auction took place.”

You whispered toward JJ as the crowd booed in response, “Your dad?”

“The bank wasn’t legally allowed to go to auction. We have a promissory note right here from the original owner, signed before the auction, and finalized by Judge Holden.”

“That’s impossible,” You continued to argue quietly. “Your dad was gone way before we got on that ship, there’s no way he signed it.”

“That means our sale was invalid,” Pope explained as he grabbed your elbow to get your attention. “They faked the date. How can they even do that?”

You shook your head, the lump in your throat growing with each second.

“Where is the original owner? And can he validate the authenticity of this document?”

Dale spoke up again. “Yes he can. He’s right here.”

The world spun beneath you as you turned around to see Luke Maybank stand from his spot in the back of the room. He still looked like the same piece of shit when you’d last looked at him

“What the hell?” You were on your feet instantly, glaring daggers at the man who’d taken so much from someone who you adored. “He’s a wanted criminal! He should be in jail!” Your arguement fell upon deaf ears as the crowd yelled equal protests. 

“Isn’t it obvious? He signs the promissory note, and in exchange he gets amnesty,” Pope huffed and fell back into the bench, his hands pulling at his hair. 

“Now, hang on. Unless I’m very mistaken, when this all shakes out, you nice young people will be compensated of course. And, and… hold on! The land will be a club for all!”

Your hands pressed against your ears tightly, hoping all the noise would fade away into nothing. This was so unfair, so fundamentally wrong of this town in so many ways. The Kooks would win, every time, because everything came down to politics and money. Everything.

“After they do it to us, they’re gonna do it to all of you!” Kiara shouted as she moved from her seat up to where John B was standing. “This is theft!”

You didn’t realize JJ was missing from next to you until Sarah was grabbing your elbow and pulling you back to reality. The crowd was becoming unruly and glass shattered somewhere in the room before you caught sight of JJ’s blond hair.

Your jaw dropped as he body slammed a police officer to the ground, a broken window close by telling you your boyfriend was crashing out harder than you anticipated. 

Shifting out of Sarah’s grip, you glared at Luke with a look that could kill and reached to grab JJ from the ground. “Hey, hey!” You grabbed his neck and leaned forward to kiss him quickly as people started shoving from behind. “Go! Be careful!”

A cop burst past you just as JJ took off, the two of them tumbling down the stairs of City Hall. More cop cars pulled into view with officers rushing from every angle. Sarah finally got her hold back on you to move out of the way. 

“What the fuck!” You screamed as they slammed JJ on the hood of the sheriff cruiser. You’d lost sight of Cleo and Pope, and there was no way in hell you were letting Sarah continue to get pushed around with her possible pregnancy. Grabbing her hand, you tugged her arm to get outside of the room and into the sunshine as people stormed around you. Other teens took the attacking the new police vehicles, someone jumping on the cruiser JJ had just been shoved in. 

“John B!” Your voice cracked with the force of your yell. Your brother was lost in the crowd, likely keeping hands off Kiara in the mass of people. 

“He’s over here!” Sarah pulled your hand to where you could see John B crowding the tail end of the car as Cleo kicked out the back windshield. You didn’t have time to be shocked and reached forward to grab the hood of JJ’s jacket while your friends helped pull him out of the glass covered surface. 

“Go!” Your brother shoved JJ’s chest and moved him away from you as Pope yelled to run. “Get out of here!”

You caught JJ’s gaze long enough to see how scared he was before he took off without another word. 

“Shit!” There wasn’t time to follow him before John B’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you out of the way of an oncoming brawl. “Come on,” John B let go of you with one arm to grab Sarah’s hand. “Let’s go, let’s go!”

Pushing your brother’s arm off, you started running in the general direction that JJ had taken off, figuring he was heading into town since it would be empty from the crowd here. Your muscles burned as you continued to push yourself further. Your name echoed behind you as you gained a lead on your friends, your mind only set on finding your boyfriend and getting the hell out of here.

—

JJ was always an athletic person, but shit, he was running for sure. Your pace slowed eventually as you approached town, chest burning for a break. 

Turning the corner, you slowed at the sight of broken car windows, store doors shattered, and flames building from the electrical poles. You couldn’t see any sign of JJ, and the growing crowd wasn’t helping you narrow down where he could’ve been. Glancing around, you realized the power was out, and you prayed he at least managed to accomplish that first to take out any cameras nearby.

Shoupe was yelling into his walkie for all units, claiming the whole town would get looted any minute and he would need backup. 

A dirt bike nearly clipped you in the side before you realized you were in over your head and needed to move. You cursed under your breath, moving along with the crowd to blend in before you were ahead of them all. Without anyone to stop him, JJ wouldn’t hesitate to wipe the whole town out if he could. It was a perfect misplaced aggression, and the fact that other Pogues were joining in would only fuel him.

You tried to rack your brain for where he would go next: the house was off limits, it was too obvious. Kie’s dad wouldn’t hide him at the Wreck and there was no doubt anywhere on Figure Eight had cameras. 

“He went that way!” You turned at the sound of a voice, a girl you’d recognized from the bonfires pointing in the general direction of the rental estates down the street. You nodded, barely giving her a thank you before you were running again in hopes of catching up to JJ.

Evidently, he was making enough of a scene that the cop cars were rounding the corner and following your path to catch up to him. You ducked into the trees along the road, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as you ran alongside them until you landed on the vacation real estate side of the island. 

All of the Kooks with vacation homes ran their offices on the same road, and you had a good feeling you knew which one JJ would be hidden in. Before you had a chance to get ahead of the situation though, a handful of cop cars had surrounded the office, effectively cutting off your opportunity to get to JJ first. 

You took a deep breath, praying he could level his head out enough to make the right decision and keep himself out of harm enough until you could get to him. You pulled your hood up on your head and started in the direction of the building. 

“Stop, stop!” John B knocked you off course a second later, his hand wrapping itself around your sleeve to yank you to a stop. You panicked, knowing your brother would do anything it took to keep you safe, including letting JJ run wild.

Heaving for air, you shoved him away a little harsher than you’d intended. “Get off of me! They’re going to kill him!”

“Hey!” John B stumbled back with the force of your action, eyes widening in surprise before he steadied himself. “You’ve gotta calm down.”

You shook your head, body practically bouncing with adrenaline and glanced at the series of lights behind you. “I need to talk to him, okay? You don’t understand, he’s gonna-”

“I know!” John B took the chance to reach forward and hold your shoulders. “We’re going to get him, but you cannot lose it on us. Not right now, okay?”

Your brother read your expression like a neon sign. You were terrified, and you were right behind JJ’s crashout if he didn’t reel you in this second. John B knew you and JJ felt everything so strongly, and it was getting even deeper when you were together. The two of you were weirdly connected, like a radiating ball of chaos, as John B would call it. Whatever JJ was feeling would seep into you instantly, so it was no surprised you were as out of it as the blond boy was when he took off.

“Hey,” Sarah’s voice was much softer than your brother’s as she moved in front of you to stand next to John B. “I need you to stay with me, yeah? You said you’d help me figure it out.”

You knew what she was trying to do. Trying to lock you in one spot to protect her the way she knew you would with the knowledge you had. Sirens echoed around and you glanced away to see flickers of red and blue lights, a sinking feeling taking over your stomach.

Sarah whispered your name, her hand gentle on your cheek as she pulled you back. Your heart was racing, and she could practically feel it under her touch. Her lips mouthed please, and it was enough to break your hesitation, forcing you to nod. She took your hand in hers and looked up at John B who was staring at the two of you with confusion.

“Let’s go,” Pope pulled you all out of your moment and you started moving again at a slower pace. 

The chaos from City Hall was starting to catch up again as your group jogged up to the office where Shoupe was climbing out of a cruiser. The front door was kicked in, but thankfully it seemed like JJ hadn’t done much damage compared to downtown. 

“If you’re not in uniform, stay back!” Shoupe called out as Pope walked up in attempt to talk to him before he was pushed back into line by another cop. “Aright, JJ. You’ve gone too far, and we’ve got a serious situation!”

The crack of a firework had you jumping in your spot, head tucking like it would stop anything from happening. Hands trembling, you reached in your pocket to grab your phone, praying by everything JJ had his on him.

go out the back, you typed quickly, please be safe. don’t do anything stupid.

The read receipt popped up a moment after and you let out a deep breath, knowing the message would be enough to get into his head and shift his mindset. 

Looking up, Shoupe was still trying to talk to you boyfriend, but you knew damn well he would be long gone by the time they put together the pieces. You shifted away from your friends, John B’s fingers just missing your shoulder as you walked forward.

“Shoupe!” You called out his name and raised your hands slightly to show that you meant no harm as deputies swarmed instantly to prevent any interruption. “Shoupe, please!”

There were a lot of things that were difficult in the law force after Peterkin had died. Trusting people? Shoupe had always struggled with that, especially when the price was right. But now? With you standing feet away from him and the knowledge that he had about your past, he hoped he could trust you. The least he could do is hear you out.

Shoupe stared at you for a moment before waving you in, both deputies standing aside to let you do so. “Can you talk to him?” He asked you, holding the megaphone to his side as you stopped next to him. Deep down he cared for JJ, even if it was hard love.

“He’s not here,” You answered honestly and crossed your arms over your chest to hold yourself. “I told him to go somewhere safe. He might’ve been here before, but he’s not here now.”

Shoupe watched you closely for any telltale sign that you were lying. “He destroyed the town, so he’s in a ton of trouble. I know you’re smart enough to know that, so in order to keep this short, do you know where he is?”

It was obvious he was trying to intimidate you, but he wouldn’t win. You shook your head. “No, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Shoupe, you know what his dad did to him. And you know it isn’t fair what they’re doing to us. The power’s out downtown, which means cameras are out, and you have no proof JJ did anything. I think you owe us a little wiggle room on this one. Please.”

The man hesitated. Last time you tried to interfere with an arrest, you ended up with a dislocated shoulder and he willinging took you back to an abusive household. Shoupe heard rumors, saw the bruises and injuries himself when John B was arrested that day. He should’ve never taken you back. Life had been cruel to you, and he didn’t want to keep that going.

“Get out of here,” He whispered, but the tone of his voice was understanding. “You kids need to lay low, do you hear me? Or I will be finding a reason to press charges.”

You nodded, trying not to look too excited at his reaction. “Thanks, Shoupe. Really.”

He nudged his head back toward your group. “Tell your boy he’s on thin ice, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You called over your shoulder as you made your way back to your friends. “I’ll ground him and everything.”

Shoupe started dismissing the scene behind you while the group stared at you with wide eyes.

“Do I even want to know what you did?” John B asked once you stopped in front of them. Sarah was smirking at you, knowing you likely sweet talked your way out of it. 

“Sold my soul,” You replied rhetorically before actually explaining, “What else would I do? I told him JJ isn’t here, because he isn’t.”

Pope tilted his head and waited for the elaboration. “But he is…?”

Your phone twisted between your fingertips as an answer. “Told him to run. Didn’t say where, just to stay safe.”

“He’ll be so safe,” Pope joked with a laugh as relief fell over the group. John B bent over and placed his hands on his knees with a huff, Kiara running her hands through her hair in disbelief. 

“Rude boy,” Cleo clicked her tongue and shook her head, “Always gotta cause trouble somewhere.”

A smile started to form on your face as lightning lit up the sky, a crack of thunder shaking your form just before rain started to pour down. 

John B watched you carefully, knowing you were coming down from your adrenaline rush and would crash any moment now. He turned toward Sarah, who had been looking at you too.  “You okay?” He asked quietly.

She nodded, breaking out of her daze to smile at him. “Yeah, just a long night. Wanna sleep.”

He nodded in understanding and pulled the girl closer under his arm. “Then let’s go home.”

--

The group scattered relatively quickly once you arrived back at Poguelandia. JJ had sent a rushed I love you text and the charter boat was gone, which meant he made it somewhere relatively safe for the night. Kie dismissed herself to shower, Pope and Cleo quietly shutting their door without much conversation. Sarah walked in, promising to make some sort of dinner, which left you on the porch swing with John B.

Your brother didn’t say a word but lifted his arm invitingly for you to snuggle into his side. JJ had sent a rushed I love you text and the charter boat was gone, which meant he made it somewhere relatively safe for the night. 

“Thanks for snapping me out of it,” You spoke quietly and tucked your feet up on the bench, pushing more of your weight against him. Rain pattered against the roof, lightning flashing across the sky every so often.

John B kissed your forehead wordlessly, his hand warm as it moved back and forth slowly against your arm. His mind was moving in so many directions. How was he supposed to take care of you and Sarah with no money and soon to be nowhere to go?

You flicked his forehead to bring him back to reality. “Earth to JB. Hello?”

“Sorry,” He mumbled, eyes blinking to refocus. “Just don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

You frowned and sat up, letting his arm fall back to his side. “John B, you don’t have to figure this out on your own. We’re going to do it together.”

“I know, I know. But we shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t even have to deal with this.” He turned to face you. “Do you ever regret going after the gold?”

The question caught you off guard. Did you? 

“Do you realize the amount of things that would be different if we didn’t find that Scooter’s boat that day? You would’ve never dealt with Rafe. We would’ve never lost our home, and Dad would maybe still be alive. Pope would be in medical school by now, Kie probably running a turtle habitat rescue and living as an influencer or something. Shit, JJ and I would be pro-surfers and probably competing. Life would be so different.”

“Do you realize how different it would be too? You would’ve never been with Sarah, she would probably still be with Topper. Cleo wouldn’t be here. We have answers about Dad, now. We wouldn’t have had Poguelandia, I would’ve never gotten with JJ. Sarah wouldn’t be-” You clammed up quickly, teeth sinking into your lip at almost spilling the beans to John B.

“Sarah wouldn’t be what?” He repeated.

You shook your head. “Sarah wouldn’t be here, with you. You’d still be a lonely and miserable fuck who bothered the shit out of me.”

John B opened his mouth in feigned shock, which made you laugh loudly, the two of you falling into a fit of giggles.

“Seriously, though,” You continued once the two of you had stopped laughing. “In a way, I got you back, John B. The version of us that existed when Agatha hit is not the version of us here, today.”

He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands twisting between each other as he listened to you. 

“I don’t realize it, because I don’t question what we’ve done,” You said softly and set your hand on his shoulder. “I don’t want to change any of it because I have you, and we have this family that we’ve never had before on this level. I wouldn’t trade any of them for the world. I wouldn’t trade you for the world, you know that?”

John B’s laugh was teary. “That’s the nicest shit you’ve ever said to me.”

A small smile form on your lips and you quickly brushed away tears of your own. “C’mon, Bird. I know I give you a really hard time. But you’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother.”

You shoved his shoulder with a smile before curling back into his side with his arm around you. John B leaned his head against yours as the two of you watched the water move slowly against the dock. Cicadas buzzed around and the rain continued to pour overhead. The sounds so familiar, so comforting you almost forgot how insane the night had been.

“I love you, you know?” You whispered, eyes growing heavy with the events of the day.

“Yeah. I know.”

--

a/n: SIBLING! BONDING!!!!! see no pope arrest, and jj technically didn't catch major charges (i have no sense of criminal history, just nod in agreement and move on)

listen to snow angel by renee rapp!!!!

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[ghsface]

Not sure if you are taking request but can we get an angst with Matt where like reader and him are dating for years but recently comments have been getting to her or people have been following her home and eventually she decideds to break up with Matt but Matt takes things to in his hands where he’s tells ppl to stop and they get back together?(Lol sorry if it didn’t make sense but thank you)

𝜗𝜚 new messege .ᐟ.ᐟ

Hey gorgeous, I really liked this idea, I hope you like it too.

You are the only thing I want - Matt Sturniolo

Sumary: You and Matt had a secret relationship and when you decide to make it public everything goes wrong...

Warnings: angst hate messages towards reader, this is just angst with a happy ending

A/n: Leave me ideas to write in my inbox because I'm running out of ideas. I'm sorry if something is misspelled or not understood. My first language is not English. By the way, what do you think of my new theme, in my opinion, it's very cute like the baby pink and light brown. 🩷🧸

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

It had been exactly fourteen months since the first time you and Matt kissed. You hadn't imagined then how important he would become in your life, nor that being with him would be so complicated. Because, although you adored each other and the bond between you grew every day, that relationship had to be kept secret. It was a mutual decision, made for practical reasons. At first, the thrill of secrecy made everything more exciting. But now, you both felt exhausted.

You had spent too many nights talking secretly in the car, dates arranged down to the last detail so as not to be seen, or moments of solitude where, instead of shouting to the world how much you loved each other, you had to hide it like a forbidden secret. The situation was starting to weigh on you.

That night, you were on the couch at Matt's house. He was holding you, and your head was resting on his shoulder while you felt his fingers playing with the strands of your hair.

"Aren't you tired of this?" he asked quietly, breaking the silence.

You raised your head and looked at him, searching his eyes for what he really wanted to say.

"What are you talking about?"

"About having to hide… about not being able to tell anyone how amazing you are." Matt smiled, but his eyes reflected a sadness that you shared.

"Of course I'm tired. Sometimes I wish we could be a normal couple".

"Then let's do it", he suggested, giving your hand a squeeze. "Let's make it public. I don't care what others say. I want to be with you, and I want everyone to know it."

The idea made you feel butterflies in your stomach. The love you had for Matt was bigger than any fear, and the fact that he was willing to share your relationship with his fans made you feel special. You decided to announce it on social media.

When Matt uploaded the first photo of the two of you together, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The image showed an intimate moment, a selfie of the two smiling on the beach, with the sunset in the background. The caption was simple but powerful: “Over a year together, and we’re just getting started.”

For the first few hours, the response was overwhelmingly positive. There were comments from fans congratulating and supporting them: “They look beautiful together,” “Finally someone makes Matt happy as he deserves,” “What a great couple they make!”

But over time, other types of messages began to appear. “Her? Is he really with her?”, “She’s not enough for him,” “She’s only with him for fame, I’m sure she’ll use him to become famous,” “Poor Matt, he deserves someone better.”

At first, you tried not to take them seriously. But every time you checked your phone, more of those comments appeared. There were people criticizing your appearance: “She’s too basic for someone like him,” “She’s not even pretty, how dare she date Matt?”, “Matt deserves someone more attractive.”

The words cut you deeply. You knew you shouldn’t let those comments affect you, but you couldn’t stop the doubts from starting to poison your mind. Every time you looked in the mirror, you started to see those flaws that others mentioned. Insecurity began to invade you in a way you hadn’t experienced before.

Matt tried to comfort you whenever he noticed you looking down. Sometimes, during the night, he would catch you reading the comments on your phone, and he would simply take the phone away from you and hold you, whispering that he loved you and that was all that mattered.

“You don’t need to listen to those people, babe,” he said, looking at you with a sincere expression. “They don’t know anything about you, they don’t know how amazing you are.”

The comments didn’t stop, though. Every day they became crueler and crueler. Rumors began to circulate suggesting that you were only with Matt to gain followers, or that you were using his fame to make yourself known. People commented on every aspect of your life, from how you dressed to how you looked without makeup. There were those who said things like, “It’s obvious that she dresses like that to get attention, can’t she dress up better?” or “She should thank Matt for giving her a chance, she’s just an ordinary girl.”

At some point, comments were no longer the only thing. People started following you home, taking photos of you without your permission, and even trying to get close to you to ask you invasive questions. You felt watched and judged at every turn, and little by little, you started to believe that you weren't enough, that maybe all those people were right.

The pressure began to be unbearable. Your self-esteem plummeted, and every time you looked in the mirror, you saw someone who, according to the world, wasn’t enough. Matt tried to cheer you up, to remind you how much he loved you, but you couldn’t stand it anymore.

One night, after one of your most difficult conversations, you asked him to meet you. Matt came over to your house, and as soon as you saw him, he knew something was wrong. He stared at you in silence as you searched for the words to say to him.

“Matt… I can’t do this anymore,” you whispered, your voice shaking.

“What are you saying?” he asked, frowning, clearly worried.

“I can’t be in this relationship anymore. The pressure, the comments… they’re tearing me apart. I can’t take it anymore.

Matt looked at you, unable to process what you were saying. He was trying to understand, but the pain in your eyes made it clear to him that you were really hurt.

“But… I love you, and I don’t care what other people think. They don’t understand what we have.”

“I know, Matt. I know you love me, but I can’t go on like this. I’m losing myself in all of this.” It's getting harder and harder to get up and pretend everything is okay.

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back your tears. “Matt… I can’t keep going like this. I can’t handle the pressure, the comments, the people following me everywhere. I feel like I’m losing myself, and I don’t want to drag you into this. I think… I think it’s best that we break up.”

The goodbye was hard and heartbreaking for both of us. In the days that followed, Matt stayed away from social media, not mentioning anything about what had happened. He isolated himself, trying to understand how the love of his life had to walk away because of the cruelty of others.

Weeks went by as you tried to get over the situation, even though you felt empty. However, one afternoon, while you were checking your social media, you noticed a post from Matt that surprised you.

It was a photo of you and him that Nick had taken, and the message was clear and direct: “I don't give a shit what others say about my girlfriend. I'm with her because I love her, and that's never going to change.”

Matt's public statement was not only a message to his fans, but a promise that he was willing to stand up for what they had. Feeling a torrent of emotions, you decided to call him. When he answered, his voice trembled with emotion.

"I can't go on without you" he said quietly, while you tried to hold back your tears.

"Me neither, Matt… I love you."

That night, they met again, and between tears and hugs, they knew that this time there would be nothing and no one that could separate.

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ✮ ༻⋆。 °⛧

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly, and feel free to leave a request ✮

⤷ Tags... @matthewsroses @sophand4n4 @strnilolover @lolastrniolo

[avelera]

I actually really love Mel/Jayce/Viktor as well as Jayce//Viktor and I actually think the show has a couple scenes that lend to a poly interpretation of the three of them (Mel and Jayce both literally handling Viktor’s crutch between them while talking about how much they care for him, hello?? The subtext writes itself) but I found myself staying focused on just Jayce/Viktor at first because it’s a bit simpler to write and because as much as I LOVE the implied moments of their intellectual, ambiguously romantic threesome, I’d need more of Mel and Viktor interacting to really close the loop for shipping it in my mind. As it is, it feels a bit more “This is Mel’s boyfriend, Jayce, and Jayce’s boyfriend Viktor” that Mel still cares about and respects mostly from afar.

I also think that Viktor and Jayce kind of left their relationship at “we’re partners in every sense of the word, why define it further?” And that definition maybe included romantic and sexual moments (at least for fic writer purposes lol) but the fear of losing the amazing working relationship they had, which is so rare in the academic world, kept them from seriously “defining” it as anything official on the person front, which allowed Jayce to take up with Mel without it being “cheating”.

Throw into that the rapid advancement of Viktor’s illness and I can easily see a scenario where Viktor didn’t force the issue and indeed, was happy to see that Jayce had someone else who loved him in his life, knowing he didn’t have much time left and it would take a miracle to save his own life. Basically, I don’t see Viktor as jealous of Mel as a person, even if he was wary / resigned towards Jayce’s political career and would have rather have had him in the lab more often.

There was a happy medium there, I think, where Jayce was happily balanced between the two of them without jealousy from either that the accelerating events of S1 basically prohibited as the crises began to unfold, forcing Jayce into the conflict with Zaun, and Zaun had always been a point of miscommunication and later tension between Viktor and Jayce. An inevitable one I think, since Jayce couldn’t possibly know what it was like to grow up there, and in the course of their work it probably only rarely came up and so wasn’t daily addressed until the crisis made it an ugly conflict between them.

Anyway, I’m mostly just rambling as I think my way through how I write Jayce and Viktor in the fic I’m finishing up. But mostly I wanted to make the point that I see Jayce’s relationship with Mel as real and important and not “getting in the way” of his relationship with Viktor indeed, Viktor and Mel at least seem mature enough to navigate a poly relationship and Jayce has a lot of love to give (he loves SO MUCH guys I’m emotional about it, he’s just a good kid who ended up in a shitty complex situation that went way over his head. Bro didn’t even know if his school OFFERED military history, he was such an easy target and this is why STEM kids need an introduction to liberal arts I swear).

I don’t think S2 is headed towards any sort of unambiguous happy ending for the three of them but there’s definitely a happy AU in my heart where the three of them make it work and are better together than just two out of the pair.

[mixingandmelting]

Bojack Horseman/ “Maybe cause you’re pretty” Meme

Summary: When you go off after he irritates you only for him to catch you say “maybe cause you’re pretty”

Dick:

“Maybe pretty?”

He very much knows he’s pretty. And not just randomly pretty. He’s YOUR pretty whether you were aware or not when you made him yours

Amused but also not where he’s wanting to know what exactly made you think he’s a “maybe”. Like on what basis, standards. Just who exactly is he competing against?

He does make a side note how adorable you look when you huff though it’s most definitely not the time to mention that or bring it up

If you manage to sass him before he gets a word out along the lines of “in what world makes you think you’re pretty when being irritating?” or “you think i’m going to think you’re pretty when i’m this annoyed”, he won’t say anything and listen. If you don’t, he’ll change the argument and make it over the “maybe pretty”

Either way, it’s going to bother him for the rest of the week as he continuously thinks about it during a mission, spam every group chat he’s in asking if they think he’s pretty

Gone as low as asking Haley if she thought he was pretty. He didn’t appreciate the way she tilted her head in confusion

It’s when you tell him that despite what you said, he’s your one and only pretty both inside and out after receiving a text from everyone to do something about him and his mood, that he stops and goes back to normal

Pulls you into a bear hug, nuzzling his cheek into your hair to then proceed to place kisses all over your neck and face with content that’s he’s the only pretty one for you

Jason

“Oh? So you think I’m pretty?”

He’s insufferable and smug, quickly catching to what you just said

A big ol` smirk on his face, eyes sparkling in amusement when you pause and start getting flustered

Sure, you didn’t mean to say that. Yup, of course, he totally understands. After all, he’s pretty to you isn’t he?

Doesn’t let you take what you said back, it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside knowing that you found him pretty

Especially considering all the scars he has and the things he went through, most would not use the word pretty for him. 

He’s an extremely self conscious person who doesn’t often get compliments. Even if he does, it’s for his work as an outlaw rather than his own person. So don’t fault him too much for him teasing you, he’s simply really happy

He does stop teasing you and take you seriously when you snap at him, asking if he was paying attention to what you said. Despite half his mind being on cloud nine, the other half has been paying attention so he is aware what you’ve been telling him

Gives an apology, half heartedly but still an apology, agreeing to whatever conditions you propose. Has to hold back from laughing from the way you look annoyed without realizing how instead of looking agitated, you looked like you were pouting - and that’s freaking cute. 

Purposely gets you to topple over the edge of the sofa for an impromptu snuggle session where he rests his head on your chest and enjoy the hand that plays with his hair from giving up in ranting at him 

Tim

“I’m pretty?”

Poor boy is completely flustered. A blubbering, hot mess that doesn’t help you to calm down when you realize what you said

He’s going through a crisis in his head, brain going “oh my god they think i'm pretty” to “holy crap,  they think i’m pretty”

No, he is not paying attention to what you try saying as an excuse to cover up that you thought he was pretty. Or anything after that. 

Help, he can’t even look at you in the eyes, your words echoing in his ears to point it got him to turn red from the tip of ears down to the base of his neck

Smart? Yes. Fun to hang out with? Yes. Pretty? Pretty???

When you yell out his full name, he finally snaps his attention back to you, fumbling over his words to make it seem as though he was listening the whole time

He’s hyper aware and extremely conscious to the point when you go “you okay?” with a  look of concern and try touching him, he jumps

When he tells you the reason for him to be jumpy after you ask what has gotten into him all of a sudden, both of you were matching, blushing as red as his Red Robin suit

The conversation ends with choppy sentences including you intention to lecture his ears out going out the window as he holds your hand and leans his head over yours with a silly, derpy grin as it settles in that you thought he was pretty

Duke

“You think I’m pretty?”

His brain short circuits, all sass dies inside him

No thoughts, just you calling him pretty, repeating his head like a broken record. Actually can be considered brain dead since that’s how he feels

Snapping your fingers, shaking him by the shoulder, calling his name a million times won’t work. He’s not responding not because he doesn’t want to, rather he can’t. Literally, he can’t formulate a response

Is this how stans feel when their favorite celebrities compliments them? `Cause he’s ascending into heaven right now over how the person he is loyal and devoted completely to called him pretty

He doesn’t realize how long it takes you to get him to snap back to reality though it seems like it was a while when he comes back to the living you were look more concerned rather than irritated

Side note, he doesn’t really know how you were able to get him back though he might have an idea from how his head, slightly, stings a bit

Not like that’ll even matter when his voice isn’t his usual confident and sarcastic voice but has a slight stutter, quieter, and polite

He’s also jumpy, cheeks and ears burning when you voice out your concern only to end up asking if you really think he’s pretty as a reply

He manages to pass out while standing, blissful yet happiest smile on his face when you give up trying to give him a piece of your mind and give him a bear hug, telling him he’s more than pretty

Damian Wayne

“Obviously I’m pretty?”

Raises an unamused eyebrow at you, unsure why you’re stating the obvious. Have you met his parents? Of course he’s going to be pretty. Or that’s how he acts on the outside at least

Inside he’s absolutely flattered and filled with joy, his mind recognizing how you thought he was pretty/he is pretty to you

Definitely is getting a kick of you being flustered on top of being irritated especially seeing how you’re blushing from belatedly realization what exactly you just said to him

It’s to the point that when you try to go back to what you were saying, it goes in one ear and out the other as he counters with “but you think i’m pretty.”, “didn’t you say i was pretty?”, or “why can’t you answer my question: am i pretty?” He’s extremely smug when he says that btw

The more you react to it, the more it’ll amuse him. Worst part is that no matter how much you deny saying along the lines “when have I ever called you pretty?” or “do you really think i think you’re pretty right now”, he’ll bring out a voice recorder who knows where he got it from or when he had it on him and plays what you said to him back on speaker

If you manage to sass him back about how “wow, to think that’s all it takes to stroke your ego” or something similar, he’ll get petty and sulk. Might even try to start a childish argument with you

If you don’t, expect him to pretty much be in a good mood for the next few days around you and the others. Especially with others, his family and Jon are going to be wondering why he’s suddenly smiling to himself and in such a good mood. It’s scaring them especially when he does it out of nowhere, without any reason they personally know of

He’s going also let you indulge with anything you want to do with him whether it’s simply hugging, cuddling, hand-holding, spend time at a park - he’s at the point he wouldn’t mind since he’s too happy to be called pretty by you

[newluvrs]

And bc I’m already seeing sentiment of “why can’t yall just be happy for Seunghan”. Dawg, get so serious this literally changes fuck all. Of course everyone wants to support him, but this is literally just sm’s way of trying to tell us to stfu. Like the biggest issue here is the lack of protection sm gave Seunghan and how they bowed down to parasocial weirdos. Which btw they still have said nothing about!!!!!!!! Like I know that you know damn well that they are going to give him a half assed solo debut. Respectfully, as an sm group fan and a HUGE Nct fan, we all saw what happened with Lucas, get so serious. I don’t want that to happen, and more importantly here it doesn’t change the key issue once again, THAT THEY HAVE STILL SAID AND DONE NOTHING ABOUT THE CONSTANT HARASSMENT SEUNGHAN HAS RECIEVED FOR A LITERAL FUCKING YEAR!!!!!! Believe me I want to be happy, but HOLY SHIT I am too busy being pissed that they did not address the biggest issue everyone had!! Not only that but they let Riize take the brunt of it!!!!! And they’re still sending them to the MAMAs KNOWING what’s gonna happen. Like this for real seriously only appeases the stupid ass ot6 and those who didn’t really gaf in the first place. Like YES I’m tired of boycotting, we all are, which is why they felt like now was the perfect time to strike. If you are one of the people who were boycotting but are tired and exhausted of it, I encourage you and even plead with you to PLEASE UNDERSTAND that this is literally just their way to get us to shut up. I don’t think they thought we were gonna take it this far, and for me this changes NOTHING. Most of all I’m just fearful, because like I said I have seen what happens before when sm throws an artist out on their own to fend for themselves. Not dropping names here out of respect for the deceased but please I urge you to look at the bigger picture. Seunghan deserves better, end of story.

[nativegirltapes]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ trailerpark!mom!reader and drew wanting to make things work despite their major lifestyle differences

dinners with drew became a regular occurrence, every time he was in town for filming he made it his personal mission to take you out at least one night of the week. you argued with him every single time, saying you “didn’t need his money or free meals.” to which he always responded. “it’s not about that. i just want to spend time with you”. and even on weeks where he wasn’t in town filming, he still flew out. all for you, and all for your baby.

you’d gotten really comfortable with him, possibly even a little too much for your own liking, but you physically couldn’t help it. you’d never felt so loved and wanted in your life, and you felt that maybe just this once you deserved to actually feel it. he made you feel like you deserved it.

drew had done more than prove himself; he helped you out with home duties, he made time for you, he always stuck to his word, and he loved your baby like it was his own.

“i would give it all up for you. for baby.” drew confessed, you both lied on the ground of the grassy hill you found while wondering the downtown of the city, staring into the starry sky.

“what do you mean?” you asked, keeping your eyes on the dark sky in front of you, hoping he didn’t mean what you thought.

“i mean i’d give up everything for you. i’d give up all this hollywood bullshit to be with you.” drew sat up, he wanted you to take him seriously. he meant every word he was saying.

“cmon,” you giggled, also sitting up. “don’t say that.” you toyed with grass strands next to you, desperate for any sort of release for the nerves you were feeling.

“i’m going to say it because i mean it.” drew assured you. “i’m serious.”

“well that’s not necessary.” you laughed, you weren’t sure how to respond. it was nice to hear that drew was on the same page as you; wanting to take things serious, but on the other hand; were you really ready for something this serious? “you can still do your thing, and be here for me and baby. if that’s what you want to do.”

“i know but like,” drew hesitated, he wasn’t sure if it was his place to say what he felt, or if he should say it at all. “i want to be around for baby.”

“what?” you froze, dropping the miscellaneous strands off grass from your clammy hands. “around?”

“i love her.” drew confessed. “i love you.” he took your hands in his own. “i love you.” he repeated himself. “i want this to work.” you both fiddled with each other’s fingers. “okay.” you sighed. “we’ll make it work.”

[janeyseymour]

Stolen For Love

an anon asked for Ellie with Sweet Cheeks, so bringing this sweet little family back... and @notinmyvocab just wanted Sweet Cheeks in general... so I present to you, fluff.

WC: ~3.7k

When Ellie is in second grade, she’s placed in Janine’s classroom. With Melissa being her mother, it wasn’t in the question to put her in your wife’s classroom; apparently nepotism and favoritism is something that Abbott takes seriously- one of the few things that your school takes seriously. You supposed that it would be quite odd for your daughter to be in your class next year too, although you hope to God that your grade level partner does well with her. 

It’s also the year that Janine has somehow managed to convince the district to give you funds for class pets.

At first, Melissa had been beyond resistant to the idea. You begrudgingly took in a hamster. You had to choke back your laughter when Gregory was ecstatic to get his requested pet rock.

You’re fairly certain that your wife was in the clear in terms of getting a pet- Janine hadn’t said anything else to you in regards to the fact that the redhead wanted nothing to do with a pet. 

But then, just by chance, Melissa ends up passing the library while her counterpart is still handing out animals. She calls for your wife. And for some unknown reason, the redhead makes her way in. She exits with a guinea pig. And she looks pissed beyond belief.

You take your little rodent with you to catch up with the woman with a significantly bigger rodent. “Hun, I thought you said that weren’t going to give in even if Janine tried to push it on you.”

She huffs. “Yeah, well… her kids were talking to mine the other day when she was prepping her kids for it, and now… I look like the asshole if I don’t give my kids a stupid ass class pet.”

You smile at her sympathetically. “Trust me, I don’t want it either, but…”

“I can’t believe I was happy when pipsqueak decided to come back to Abbott,” your wife grumbles. 

“Hey,” you nudge her gently. “You love her.”

“She’s damn lucky.”

“And I heard her say that she would take care of it for you.”

“An’ if she doesn’t keep her end of the deal up, I’m gonna end up with a dead guinea pig and a class full of sad kids.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “I’m sure that Janine will go above and beyond for that guinea pig of yours. She tries to go above and beyond in everything she does.”

“Yeah,” your wife huffs. “That’s how we got into this stupid mess in the first place.”

Come the end of the day, your third graders are absolutely infatuated with that little rodent on yours in the classroom. They’ve named her Squeaky- how original. Each one of your students passes by the cage with a sweet “Have a good night, Squeaky!” as you lead them out to the front of the school for dismissal.

Melissa comes out with her students not much later, and she looks beyond pissed. You have to say, you didn’t think a guinea pig would disrupt her class flow as much as she’s making it seem it is. You make your way over with a smile, hoping that will soften her up before you go home for the night.

“How was the rest of your day?” you tread waters lightly. She just presses a soft kiss to your head in response.

Ellie comes bouncing over with the brightest grin on her face. “Moms!” She launches herself at you- you catch her; you always do.

“Hi, my sweet,” you bury a kiss in her wild hair. “How was school today?”

“Miss Teagues got us a guinea pig! Her name is Miss Piggy!” Ellie announcing with a beaming smile. 

“She would name it that,” the redhead mutters to you, nudging you gently.

You just smirk. “She really would.”

It takes a few more minutes for all of your students to be picked up, and then you’re heading back inside to gather your things for the night. You make sure that Squeaky is loaded up on food and water before flicking off the lights and heading to the room next door. You can hear the guinea pig in the redhead’s room squeaking incessantly.

“He’s so cute, Mom!” Ellie grins up at Melissa as she holds the furry animal with such care.

“He’s lucky,” your wife grumbles.

“Miss Piggy won’t let us hold her,” your daughter tells her other mother seriously. “She bites Miss Teagues.”

“Well, Sweet Cheeks knows that if he bites me, he’s being flung against the-” the redhead stops herself before she can finish her sentence. “Nevermind.”

“I think Sweet Cheeks needs a nice house,” Ellie suggests as she puts the animal back in his cage. “And better food. And a cooler water bottle.”

The guinea pig squeaks, whether that be in agreement or because he’s upset that he’s been put back into his holding cell for the night, nobody knows- but your little girl squeals. “See? Even Sweet Cheeks agrees.”

Melissa looks down at her class pet with warm eyes. “You really want to do that?” You’re not sure if she’s speaking to the rodent or to your daughter, but your little girl replies. 

“Please!” Ellie begs, and her puppy dog eyes are strong. Sweet Cheeks squeaks.

You watch your wife pet the little critter through the cage before checking that he has enough food and water to last him until tomorrow. “I guess we’re going to the pet store tonight for a stupid pet I didn’t even want.”

You opt to stay home and cook dinner while your daughter drags your wife out to the pet store a few blocks down. You manage to get the meal out of the pot and plated, put on the dinner table, and they still aren’t home yet.

You put the plates in the microwave and oven to keep them warm before settling on the couch with some of the papers that you’ve yet to look over. It’s still a bit of time before the two walk in- or rather, Melissa walks in with multiple bags while Ellie skips in with a lollipop in her mouth.

“Melissa…” you furrow a brow. Then you look to your little girl .”Elizabeth.”

“Mom said I could!” your daughter protests immediately, pointing a finger at her other mother.

“She was good in the stores,” the redhead tells you. “It’s a lollipop hun. It’s not like it’ll spoil dinner.”

“Stores?” your furrowed brow turns into a raised brow.

Melissa sighs and drops the bags- you can immediately see that one is from the pet store and the other is from Michael’s. “The huts that they had for the guinea pigs were shit, so El and I are gonna make a better one for Sweet Cheeks after dinner.”

“Oh?” you chuckle.

“It’s gonna be the best house that a guinea pig has ever had!” Ellie announces with a grin.

“Well, you two better start eating dinner,” you laugh as you set your papers aside and go to pull the meal out of where you had stored it.

Dinner is wonderful, and then your two favorite people clear it and begin to set out on this quest that they’ve created for themselves while you settle back down on the couch to finish your grading.

It’s a couple of hours later, and they still aren’t finished, but you know that your daughter has to get in the shower and get ready for bed. 

Your little girl protests immediately, wanting Sweet Cheeks to have that home ready as soon as possible- she claims that the little hut the district had offered up just wouldn’t do. When you questions if her classroom pet was okay with it and why Sweet Cheeks wouldn’t, Ellie’s face sours. “Momma, Sweet Cheeks is fancy,” is all she offers you.

Melissa has to bite back her laugh. “El, go on upstairs and shower and get ready for bed. I’ll finish up his hut, and we’ll take it in tomorrow, okay?”

Your daughter grumbles something as she hands your wife her part of the hut and heads up the steps towards the bathroom.

“Comb your hair too!” you call up after her.

Only when your daughter is in the shower do you unfold your legs out from under you and make your way back into the dining room to see what creation they’ve started. This hut is… whether your wife wants to admit it or not, she’s falling in love with the little critter in her room. She’s so focused on making this wooden house that she completely misses the fact that you’ve walked into the room. Only when you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder and press a kiss to her head does she realize that you’re right next to her.

“Jesus,” she gasps out as she jumps about a foot in the air. “Warn me next time!”

“Hun, I walked in front of you to get next to you, and I wasn’t quiet about it at all,” you chuckle. “Seems like you’re really into this hut building.”

Green eyes are rolled before she looks up at you. “I’m only doin’ this because your daughter thinks it’s necessary.”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “Sure, babe. Well, I’ll let you get back to it, but you’ll take a break if you aren’t finished to help me put El to bed?”

“You know I never miss the bedtime routine,” your wife promises as she glues another popsicle stick together. 

Ellie comes jumping down the steps about twenty minutes later and immediately tries to run over to the craft.

“You just showered, little girl,” you cut in. “Come sit with Momma.”

“But I-”

Melissa comes into the room with the finished product behind her back. “It’s done anyway, hun.” She pulls it out in front of her and presents it with a smile. “Come sit with me and your momma while we do some grading.”

Your daughter investigates the redhead’s handiwork for a few seconds before smiling and snuggling up to you. 

The next morning, Ellie skips into your wife’s classroom with the supplies that they had bought for the guinea pig. She greets Sweet Cheeks with the softest voice, and her giggle is absolutely precious when he allows her to pick him up.

Together, your daughter and your wife situate the cage to their liking before your little girl takes the rodent to the back corner with a book and begins reading to him. When you catch Melissa taking a picture of the two of them and then joining them, you keep quiet.

Lunch is filled with your wife complaining about the guinea pig that she ‘just had to do so much for’. There’s a sparkle in your eye- she wouldn’t be making this much of a deal okay out of it if she truly hated the animal. She would ignore it in the way that she ignores people she can’t stand.

And then by the end of the day, you get a text that tells you Melissa had to leave just a few minutes early because she forgot she had an appointment, and she’s so sorry that you and Ellie will now have to take the bus or walk back home. You’re just the slightest bit confused when you read that message- she hadn’t written any appointments on the calendar for today. Still, you shrug and continue on for the last few minutes of the day.

At dismissal, Janine has your wife’s class, and she looks… why does she look like she knows something that she probably shouldn’t?

Ellie makes her way over to you with a smile that quickly turns into a frown when she doesn’t see Melissa standing next to you as she usually does. “Where’s Mom?”

“We’re going to have to walk back home today,” you tell your little girl with a ruffle to her hair. “Mom forgot she had some sort of appointment.”

“That’s what she’s calling it?” Janine cuts in. Then she hums suspiciously and walks away.

You roll your eyes- your shorter coworker can be so odd sometimes. With a shrug, you usher your daughter back into the building to gather your things. You’re not looking forward to this walk home. It’s getting colder, and you have quite a few things to lug back home with you to go through.

Luck seems to be on your side though, because Melissa’s name lights up your phone as you’re attempting to get Ellie to stop trying to pick up the hamster in your own classroom and out of the room.

“Melissa Schemmenti,” you grumble. “You better have a good reason to have abandoned me at work.”

“I didn’t,” your wife tells you. “I’m sitting out front- my appointment got canceled, so I came back to drive you and El home.”

“We’ll be out as soon as Elizabeth puts down Squeaky,” you tell the redhead, although you are giving your daughter a pointed look. How she got your hamster to let her hold it, you will never know.

Your little girl scrunches her nose at you, but she does listen. And then the two of you are heading out the front doors of the school, and there is the smiling redhead.

You get Ellie into the car and put your things in the back with her before sliding into the passenger seat, pecking your wife’s lips as you do so.

“Sorry for the confusion,” Melissa mumbles against your lips.

You chuckle. “Just be lucky I didn’t have to walk home with all of this shit, or I would’ve been a lot more pissed.”

The redhead knows that you are not going to be happy with her decision to bring home the guinea pig that she snuck out of her classroom- the real reason she left early for the day. So, she makes the choice to really attempt to butter you up- put you in a good mood so when you discover what she’s done, she won’t face your wrath to its full extent.

“I was thinking that maybe we go out for dinner tonight?” Melissa suggests softly.

You lift a brow. “What do you want from me that you’re buttering me up?”

Your wife smirks. “Nothin’. Just think we deserve to go out tonight- especially with the crap we’ve been dealing with from the district.”

“Like the class pets?”

“And other stuff,” the second grade teacher tells you. “Now c’mon, d’you wanna go out tonight or not?”

“I think that sounds nice,” you concede. “Where?”

“Where do you want to go?”

You, your wife, and your daughter all end up in one of your favorite cozy little diners in the city. It’s exactly the meal that you were hoping it would be- warm and cozy and filled with laughter. 

But then you come home, and Melissa stops you from entering the house before she does. She goes as far as grabbing your hand off of the front door knob.

“Mel,” you roll your eyes. “C’mon. I’m full, I’m tired, I have to shower.”

“Just- just promise me you won’t be mad?” your wife says, and she almost sounds nervous- scared.

“What did you do?” your eyes widen, yet your brows furrow.

“Nuh-uh,” Melissa shakes her head. “Promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Did you kill someone?”

“I kind of did the opposite,” your wife shrugs.

You grumble under your breath, “What the fuck does that even mean?” and push the front door open. Almost immediately, you hear a squeaking noise that can only mean one thing.

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” you shout. “Did you actually steal Sweet Cheeks and bring him home?”

“You did what?!” Ellie also shouts, but her tone is much more excited than yours is. “Sweet Cheeks is here?!” Your little girl entirely abandons your side to follow the sound of the guinea pig noises and find her furry friend.

“Melissa!” you whip around and point an accusatory finger at her. “Tell me you didn’t.”

The redhead stays quiet.

“Melissa!”

Finally, she throws her hands in the air in surrender. “Okay, I did. But hear me out.”

“What am I supposed to hear you out about?” you ask her in disbelief. “You brought that rodent into our house when it’s supposed to-”

“Honey, I’m sorry, but I-”

“But you what?” you plant your hands on your hips.

Your wife has to stop herself from telling you how attractive you look when you’re pissed with her. “I just�� I thought about how he was so sad when El put him back in his cage yesterday, and Janine told me the kids would take turns taking him home, and I… I fell for the little booger. I don’t want him getting hurt or nothin’.”

“Mom!” Ellie comes running into the room, and she’s all giggles as the little ball of fur cozies up to her chest. “Look! Sweet Cheeks is so happy to be getting extra Ellie cuddles!”

“I’m sure she is, El,” Melissa chuckles, and then she looks at you. “Look how happy the kid is, and Sweet Cheeks is gettin’ love in a safe space.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger as you close your eyes, sighing loudly. “Melissa.”

“I did what I thought was right,” the redhead stands her ground.

You look up at the ceiling. “You thought stealing the guinea pig from your classroom was right?”

“You stole Sweet Cheeks?” Ellie asks with wide eyes. Her hand stills on the guinea pig.

“What are you going to tell your students?” you ask.

At that, your wife bites her lip and hesitates. “I’ll- I’ll have to give them the death talk.”

“You’re going to fake the death of your class pet and give them a wrongful death talk?” you ask her incredulously.

Melissa shrugs. “It’s a talk I would have to give inevitably when one of their other pets kills him. This way, at least he has a fighting chance.”

“You’re crazy, you know that?” you ask her, although she can tell that you’re about to give in.

“And you love me for it,” your wife replies cheekily. “So, what do you say? Can we keep him?”

Ellie repeats the question, puppy dog eyes big and sweet, pleading.

You groan as you know you’re going to give into their pleas. “Fine. But I was not part of this kidnapping, and the two of you are taking care of him. I’m not lifting a damn finger when it comes to him.”

You’re immediately being attacked with hugs and kisses, and even Sweet Cheeks squeaks in approval and thanks. 

“El,” Melissa says seriously though. “You gotta keep the secret that he’s here. If anyone finds out that I took him, I’m gonna be in some trouble.”

Your daughter mimes zipping her lips. “If anyone asks, Sweet Cheeks is dead.”

“Good girl,” your wife ruffles her hair. “Now c’mon. I think we have some things to hash out with his new cage.”

“You got a new cage?!” you yell as the two go running off to settle the guinea pig in.

The next day, Janine is all over your wife. She’s figured out that Melissa took the guinea pig, despite Ellie’s insistence that she saw the guinea pig belly up this morning when you all came into the school.

Eventually, the redhead confesses, and your little girl looks absolutely miserable when Janine tells her she has until lunch to bring him back.

Your wife begrudgingly brings Sweet Cheeks back to Abbott, but then she somehow manages to convince Janine to let her keep the original Sweet Cheeks and she’ll front the bill for another guinea pig for the class.

So, when you leave the school, Ellie is holding the rodent in her arms with so much happiness in her heart, and Sweet Cheeks squeals with excitement. You can’t help but smile at how happy this stupid little guinea pig makes your daughter, and also your absolutely ridiculous wife.

That day after school, Melissa goes out and buys another guinea pig that looks similar to Sweet Cheeks, but both she and Ellie can identify a few differences to tell them apart upon closer inspection.

“It’s like twins,” your wife chuckles. “Always got at least two differences to tell ‘em apart.”

The next morning, you, your wife, your daughter, and the replacement for Sweet Cheeks load into the car and head off towards Abbott Elementary.

You think that the problem is solved between your wife and her grade level partner in regards to class pets, but come the end of the day, Melissa picks up her belongings and the guinea pig that she has affectionately started calling ‘Honey Buns’.

“Melissa, we are not stealing another guinea pig,” you sigh heavily.

The redhead grins, as does your daughter. “We ain’t stealin’ him. Me an’ my class talked, and we all agreed that with my students’ other pets at home, it wouldn’t be fair to the guinea pig, so we’re takin’ Honey Buns home, an’ I told Janine I’ll take a pet rock like her weirdo of a boyfriend.”

“We are not taking Honey Buns home,” you try to put your foot down, but you already see the way that Melissa has grown attached to this guinea pig, and if Ellie’s giggles as she tries to share a piece of carrot with the animal is any indication, you know you’re going to end up with two new pets in the house.

“Momma, please!” your daughter starts to plead, only for the vegetable to fall from her mouth. She just barely manages to catch it before feeding it to Honey Buns. “Please! Mom and I- we’ll take care of him, just like we’re going to take care of Sweet Cheeks!”

You groan as you run a hand through your hair. “I hate you guys,” you grumble as you turn on your heel to start walking out of the school.

“No you don’t!” Melissa calls after you.

Ellie runs after you and all but tackles you in a hug, looping her arms around your waist. “You love us.”

“You’re lucky,” you roll your eyes as you lean down to plant a kiss on your daughter’s head. Then you turn back to the redhead a few paces behind you. “I better get some good dinner tonight.”

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[suzukiblu]

Day fourteen of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. tw: mentions of past grooming/abuse prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think your life might be a little bit insane,” Tim says, now increasingly certain that Kon is just a living weirdness magnet and it is therefore his fault that every single Young Justice mission so far has been objectively buck-wild and borderline deranged. Previously he was just blaming the concentration of teenage superheroes with very different power sources and specialties and personalities all stubbornly jammed into one even more stubborn team, but “previously” did not include all the necessary data or any stories about gargoyle-riding supermodels possessed by dead gunslingers. 

Tim has heard some stories in the community, for sure, but that is a story.

“I mean, Hex and Grokk aren’t that weird, are they?” Kon asks with a shrug. “Not any weirder than the Event Horizon was, anyway.” 

“The what?” Tim asks, because Kon definitely said that like it was something’s name and not a metaphor for something or an actual event horizon. 

“Oh, sorry, the Event Horizon was this club I used to hit up with some buds,” Kon says as he snags three more grilled cheese(s?) off the stack and stacks them to bite through all three at once like some kind of unholy and incredibly greasy and buttery club sandwich or something. Tim is somehow morbidly fascinated, vaguely grossed out, and sort of charmed all at once. “It was always moving, was the thing, so there was this handstamp thing we all had that we used to teleport over whenever we wanted to party. Neverending space rave, basically, so you didn’t have to worry about hours or last call or anything. Club kinda got obliterated, though, so I actually dunno know if the teleport trick still works or where it’d send me if I tried usin’ it now?” 

It is definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim decides. 

“Oh, cool,” he says, and because after tonight he officially does not trust anyone who Kon has spent time with in a party environment, much less at an intergalactic rave–“Do you still hang out with them? Anybody I’d have heard of?” 

“Uh, not really. And . . . I don’t think so?” Kon shrugs. “Sparx, maybe you mighta. Otherwise it was Aura, Kaliber, Hero, and, uh–Half-Life. Also Hero’s dog was kinda around. Or maybe Hero was, like, Rex’s . . . uh, pet, or whatever? Or they were just roommates? Situation unclear there, honestly.” 

“How is that an unclear situation?” Tim asks with a frown, a little confused by that one. That’s not– 

“Rex was, like, this super-soldier war hero mystic type, and like, he could talk and whatever, so I don’t really get what was going on there,” Kon clarifies between bites of grilled cheese, which clarifies absolutely nothing. “I guess he was a WWII vet, but he drank from the Fountain of Youth or something? Also went to the moon once and used to be in the circus. Super-weird dude. Or dog, whichever.” 

. . . . . . it is definitely, definitely Kon’s fault that Mxyzptlk happened to them, Tim amends. 

“Never mind, I get it now,” he says, and Kon laughs, and then–hesitates, for a moment, and suddenly seems very interested in the last couple bites of his unholy abomination of a grilled cheese stack. 

“Hero was cool,” he says, his tone a little–off. Tim pauses himself, and wonders why. And also wonders if this “Hero” guy is actually somebody he needs to put on his supervillain hit list, considering. 

“Was that seriously his codename?” he asks, and Kon grins.

[euphorix-moon]

Love Maze

Vi x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Helping Vi realize that she can break out of this loop that's she's in

Warning: Slightly Angsty and slightly out of character

A/n: Arcane season 2 just came out and i'm still reeling from everything, just had to make this cause i was inspired by episode 3 it broke my CaitVi heart

It was just one of those days,

There weren't many days where you would get the house all to yourself to enjoy so you didn't waste the chance to relax when your roommate said she was going out to run some errands.

You were currently enjoying your day re-reading through your favorite book series until you were disturbed by a sudden knock at the door.

You skeptical and slightly annoyed you went to go answer the door. Opening the door is when you came face to face with the pink-haired woman you came to know as Vi. She almost looked slightly surprised to see you at the door but kept her composure

"Is she here ? " Vi asked worriedly

"Hi nice to see you too, but unfortunately your girlfriend isn't here, she went out to do some stuff" you replied

She lightly sighs before saying, "Well if that's the case then I guess I'll wait for her till she gets back. That's fine with you, right ?" She says walking through the door before you can get a response out. You sigh closing the door behind you knowing she would stay and wait either way.

There was an awkward silence between the two of you guys so you took it upon yourself to try and get a conversation going.

"So....what brings you here ?..Is it the same issue again ?"

Vi glares at you but after some time does lightly nods her head to confirm your suspicions. You kept quiet lightly sighing to yourself.

The cycle had become almost predictable at this point: a fight would ignite, Caitlyn would storm off ghosting Vi, and then, a few days later, Vi would return, offering half-hearted apologies that seemed to smooth things over just enough to delay the inevitable crash. Caitlyn never seemed to learn, and neither did Vi. But the truth was, they both were just playing the same tired game, and you wanted all this nonsense to come to an end once and for all.

Here,” you said, slipping behind the counter to make a couple of drinks. “Let’s take the edge off. I’m sure you could use something stronger than water right now.”

Vi didn't argue. She sank down onto the couch, taking a deep breath, clearly exhausted from everything. As you handed her the glass, you kept your tone light, almost casual. "So, how's work? How’s your family? Anything to distract you from… well, everything?"

She gave a weak laugh, taking a sip of her drink. "Work’s fine. Same as usual. Nothing exciting," she muttered, looking down at her hands, clearly distracted. "Family’s... okay. You know how it is, always got something goin on"

You nodded, pretending to listen, but your mind was already working. "Yeah, I get that. But seriously, when’s the last time you actually did something for you, Vi? Like, something that made you feel alive? Not just for Cait, or for your job, but for yourself?"

That was a hook. Vi wasn’t even aware of it. She leaned forward, a little too eager to talk about herself, to talk about anything that didn’t involve the draining mess she was in. She starts going into detail about the many things she's been interested in but never got the chance to due to feeling like she's alway has to balance a thousand things in her life.

"Well if I'm gonna be real honest with you Violet, it sounds like this relationship is just another thing holding you back" you say with sincerity.

"It’s just... it’s not that simple, okay? Violet shot back.

me and her have history. We’ve been through a lot together. And—" she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yeah, things have been tough lately. But we love each other. I know she has her issues, but I really think we can fix this. I don’t want to just... give up on everything we’ve built."

You almost rolled your eyes at the word history—as if that was supposed to make everything else okay.

"Vi," ."You’ve been ‘fixing’ things for months now. You keep telling yourself it’s just a phase, that Cait’s going to change, that things will get better. But they never do. You are stuck in a loop and you can’t keep pretending like nothing’s wrong."

"So, what? You want me to just leave her? After everything? You’re not even trying to help me,You’re supposed to be my friend. You should be supporting me in making this work, not... pushing me away from her!"Vi’s jaw clenched, her chest rising and falling with each breath as if she was holding back.

Her words stung just a little bit but you knew how to respond back. "I am doing this because i care enough to tell you the truth Vi, you deserve so much better than this. Don't let Caitlyn stress you out so much, especially when there's already a lot on your plate".

"You just don't get it. You don’t know what she's like when we’re together,” she says, still feeling obligated to defend her relationship.

"Maybe i don't and i might be wrong about all of this, but all I'm saying is that if you were my girlfriend id be the one coming to apologize and id try to find every possible way to make it up to you." You say leaning closer towards Vi

She sputters trying to find the words to defend herself, every single word unfortunately dying in her throat.

"I’d be the one begging you for another chance after acting like a dumbass. I'd spoil you and not let you do anything till you forgave me" You continued.

The silence that fell between you and Vi after your last words was thick with unspoken things. Vi feels as if her heart is beating out her chest as you continue to close the distance between the two of you guys.

"You do deserve better, Vi," you said, your voice soft but certain. "And when you’re ready, I’ll be here for you. Not just as your friend, but... more than that, if you want. You don’t need Cait to feel loved. I’m not going anywhere."

Vi looked at you, her eyes wide, and in that moment, it was like everything clicked for her

You wanted to kiss her. You wanted to show her that everything she needed wasn’t in Cait. That there was more for her. That she didn’t have to settle.

Just as you leaned forward, your lips barely inches from hers, the door to the room creaked open, and the sudden sound of keys jingling at the front door broke the fragile bubble that had formed between the two of you.

You two quickly back away from each other, moving to the opposite sides of the couch, averting eyes as Caitlyn walks into the room

A/n: Sorry for the cliffhanger and sorry to all the caitvi shippers, i love them too...i just can't pretend that i wouldn't want vi if they broke up fr.

[isak-dot-gov]

Finding Your Balance

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader

Word count: 2349

My Masterlist :)

...................................................

The late afternoon sun streamed into the practice gym, casting long shadows across the court. KK Arnold’s sneakers squeaked lightly as she paced back and forth, her mind racing. The air felt heavier than usual, like it wasn’t just basketball weighing on her today.

For the past week, things had been off between you two. You had always been close, whether it was holding hands in the halls, stealing quick kisses between classes, or staying up late talking about everything and nothing. Lately, though, you’d seemed distant, more focused on your schoolwork, disappearing into textbooks and assignments with a determination KK couldn’t compete with.

At first, KK didn’t mind. She knew how important your studies were and figured things would balance out soon enough. But then days turned into a week, and your responses became shorter, your calls less frequent. When you did talk, you sounded tired, distracted, like your mind was a million miles away. It was starting to get to her.

KK leaned against the wall, her heart sinking at the thought. Was something wrong? Were you pulling away on purpose? 

She couldn’t help the gnawing feeling inside her, the voice in the back of her mind whispering that maybe you were losing interest, that maybe this was the beginning of the end. The more she tried to shake the thought, the stronger it grew.

"She’s just busy," KK told herself for the hundredth time. But the reassurance sounded hollow now, like she was just lying to herself.

After another night of watching you rush off to finish schoolwork, leaving her with nothing but a quick kiss on the cheek and a half-hearted “I love you,” KK couldn’t take it anymore. She needed advice. Her teammates always had her back, on and off the court. Maybe they could help her figure this out.

The next day at practice, KK found herself fidgeting with her water bottle, eyes scanning the group as they took a break between drills. Everyone was in their usual spots—Azzi and Paige chatting quietly, Aaliyah sitting with her head back against the bench, and Nika stretching nearby. The sound of bouncing basketballs and the rhythmic hum of sneakers on the hardwood filled the air, but KK’s mind was far from the court.

Gathering her courage, KK cleared her throat and stepped closer to the group. “Hey, can I ask you guys something?”

The others looked up, sensing the seriousness in her tone. Azzi tilted her head, eyes softening as she saw the tension in KK’s expression. “Of course. What’s up?”

KK hesitated for a moment, wondering how to even begin. “It’s about my girl…she’s been really distant lately. Like, I know she’s got a ton of schoolwork and stuff, but it feels like we’re not… connecting anymore. I can’t help but think maybe she’s pulling away from me, like she’s losing interest or something.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her worry. KK hadn’t said it out loud before, and now that she had, it felt even more real.

Paige gave KK a sympathetic smile. “That sucks. Have you talked to her about it?”

KK shrugged, shifting her weight uncomfortably. “I’ve tried, but every time I bring it up, she just tells me she’s swamped with work. I don’t want to add to her stress, you know? But it’s getting to me. What if it’s not just school? What if she’s getting tired of me?”

Azzi frowned, shaking her head. “I doubt that. You two are solid. But if you’re feeling like something’s off, you need to talk to her.”

Aaliyah chimed in, her voice calm and reassuring. “She probably doesn’t even realise she’s doing it. School can be overwhelming, and it’s easy to get tunnel vision when you’re stressed. I’ve been there before, but the best thing to do is communicate.”

Nika, never one to shy away from giving her opinion, piped up from across the circle. “KK, you can’t overthink this. She loves you, right?”

KK nodded slowly, her chest tightening at the thought. “Yeah, she does.”

“Then trust that,” Nika said firmly. “But also, don’t just sit here wondering. Talk to her. If you keep everything inside, it’s only going to make things worse. Just tell her how you feel. And trust me, she’ll probably be relieved you brought it up.”

KK exhaled, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. They were right. She couldn’t keep going like this, pretending everything was fine while letting her insecurities eat away at her. If she didn’t speak up, nothing would change.

Paige reached over and gave KK a pat on the back. “Just be honest. She’s probably so caught up in school she doesn’t even realise how much it’s affecting your relationship.”

KK nodded, grateful for their support. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… I don’t want her to feel like I’m adding to her stress, you know?”

Azzi smiled softly. “You’re not. If she cares about you, she’ll want to know how you’re feeling. Just be there for her, and let her be there for you too.”

Practice ended, but the conversation stayed with KK as she made her way back to her dorm. Her heart was still heavy with uncertainty, but now it was mixed with resolve. She couldn’t go another day like this. It was time to talk to you, to let you know how much this distance was affecting her.

Later that evening, after showering and grabbing a quick bite to eat, KK sat on the edge of her bed, her phone in her hand. She stared at your name on the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. Her heart raced, but she knew she had to do this.

Taking a deep breath, KK typed out the message:  

“Hey, can we talk? I know you’re busy, but I miss you. A lot. I feel like we’ve been distant lately, and I just want to know if everything’s okay.”

She hit send, her stomach flipping with nerves as she waited for your response.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed. It was you.

“Of course, baby. I’ve been so buried in school stuff, but I miss you too. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like I’m not around. Can we meet up tomorrow after my last class?”

KK exhaled, relief washing over her. Maybe this was all just a misunderstanding. Maybe things would be okay. 

The next day couldn’t come soon enough.

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

The tension that had gripped KK’s heart for days had started to unravel, but there was still so much she needed to say. Your apology had brought some comfort, but she couldn’t help feeling that you both needed to go deeper, to talk about how to keep this from happening again. She wasn’t the type to just brush things under the rug, especially not when it came to you. She loved you too much to let distance—whether emotional or physical—get in the way of what you had.

As you both started walking away from your dorm, your bag slung casually over one shoulder, KK felt her mind racing, but not in the panicked way it had been for the past few days. This was different. It was like she was finally seeing the situation clearly, and now she needed to know if you both were really on the same page.

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you walked beside her, and though you looked more relaxed, she could tell you were still carrying some of the weight of the past week.

“You know,” KK started, her voice soft but steady, “I was really scared.”

You glanced up at her, concern flickering in your eyes. “Scared of what?”

“Of losing you.” KK looked straight ahead, trying to find the right words. “I know it sounds dramatic, but… when you were so distant, I didn’t know what to think. It felt like I was just watching you slip away and I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Her honesty caught you off guard. You had known KK was worried, but hearing her say that she was scared made your stomach twist with guilt. “KK, I never wanted to make you feel like that. I’ve just been so caught up in everything that I didn’t even see what it was doing to us.”

KK stopped walking, tugging gently on your hand so that you turned to face her. Her expression was serious, but her eyes were filled with warmth, with love. “I know you didn’t mean to. And I get it—school is important, and sometimes life just gets in the way. But I need you to know that I’m here for you, and not just when things are easy. You don’t have to shut me out when you’re overwhelmed.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words. You hadn’t realised how much you had been trying to handle everything on your own until now. “I guess I didn’t want to burden you. I thought if I just pushed through on my own, I’d figure it out, and then we’d be back to normal. But it didn’t work like that.”

KK’s hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “You’re never a burden to me. If something’s bothering you, I want to know about it. I want to be there for you, just like you’d be there for me. That’s how this works.”

Her touch, her words—they were soothing in a way nothing else had been. You leaned into her hand, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care. I never meant to.”

KK smiled, her eyes softening. “I know. But you don’t have to go through stuff alone, okay? I want to help you, even if it’s just listening or hanging out while you study. I just… I miss being with you. I miss us.”

You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you had let your stress get in the way of something so important. “I miss us too. I’ve been so wrapped up in school that I didn’t realise how much I’ve been neglecting the other parts of my life—especially you.”

KK pulled you into another hug, tighter this time, like she was trying to erase the distance that had grown between you. You hugged her back just as fiercely, the warmth of her body grounding you, reminding you of what really mattered.

After a long moment, KK pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “We’ll figure this out together. But you have to promise me something.”

“Anything,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Promise me that the next time you’re feeling overwhelmed or like you’re drowning in school or life or whatever, you’ll talk to me. I don’t care if it’s at midnight or if you think it’s not important. I just want to be there for you, the way you’ve always been there for me.”

You nodded, emotion swelling in your chest. “I promise.”

The relief that washed over KK’s face was palpable. She kissed your forehead softly, lingering there for a moment before stepping back and taking your hand again. ���Good. Now, let’s go get some food before we both pass out from hunger.”

You laughed, the sound lightening the mood instantly. “Deal. I’m starving.”

As you walked toward the dining hall together, the conversation from earlier played on a loop in your mind. You felt lighter, but you also felt determined. You weren’t going to let this happen again. The stress of school was still there, but now it felt manageable. KK was right—you didn’t have to go through everything alone. She was your partner, in everything, and you were going to make sure she felt that too.

When you reached the dining hall, it was buzzing with the usual dinner crowd. KK led the way, weaving through the tables until you found a quiet corner. You grabbed trays of food, and before you knew it, you were sitting across from each other, enjoying the easy conversation that had been missing for the past week.

“So, what’s the plan for the rest of the night?” KK asked between bites of her sandwich.

You grinned. “Well, I do still have some studying to do, but I figured we could hang out. Maybe you could help me not fall asleep in the middle of my reading.”

KK smirked. “I can definitely do that. And after you’re done, we could watch a movie or something, if you’re up for it.”

You nodded eagerly. “That sounds perfect. I’ve missed just hanging out with you.”

KK’s expression softened again, her eyes meeting yours across the table. “I’ve missed it too.”

The rest of dinner passed in a blur of laughter and light conversation, the tension that had once sat heavy between you both now replaced with a sense of ease. It wasn’t just that you had talked about the distance; it was that you’d both made a promise to be better, to communicate, to show up for each other even when life got chaotic.

Later, back in your dorm room, you set up your textbooks and notes on your desk, but this time KK was there, sitting on your bed, flipping through her phone but glancing up every few minutes to check on you.

“Need any help?” she asked after a while, her voice teasing.

“Maybe just a little encouragement,” you admitted, laughing softly.

KK grinned and came over, resting her chin on your shoulder as she peered at the book in front of you. “You got this,” she whispered. “And after you’re done, you’re all mine.”

You smiled, feeling the warmth of her presence beside you. “Deal.”

With KK by your side, the stress of the past few days seemed to fade away. It wasn’t that school wasn’t important anymore—it was. But you had found your balance again, with her. You had found your way back to each other.

And that made everything feel a little easier.

..............................................................

[revelboo]

Seeing you in my notifs is always always a treat, I love the stories you've weaved together, seriously. Do you think you'd write a solo skywarp x reader fic by any chance?

Thanks and sure!

Stop Talking

IDW Skywarp x Reader

• Energy crackling through him until his spark is humming with it, until it almost hurts before he lets go to warp to the limit of his line of sight. Wobbling slightly as he reappears there’s always an exhilarating moment of fear between winking out of existence and coming back, of feeling his spark faltering at the strain. Almost going out completely before he’s back, systems humming with something that’s not quite anxiety. Far below, the countryside is a boring green smear sliced up by winding ribbons of asphalt. The warping, the view, none of it’s enough to fully distract him from the fact that now Thundercracker doesn’t even want to fly with him. Star’s been distant for a while now, long before taking the human, but Thundercracker? He’s always fawning over his new pet. And he can’t really get the fascination with something so small and weak. Both of his brothers seem happy, though. No time for him since they’re so focused on their pets. So maybe it’s time he found out why.

• Stretching out, arms lifting above your head to soak up the sun. Headphones blaring rock and roll, you’re dimly aware of a heavy rhythmic thumping. It’s only the shadow suddenly falling across you that makes you lift your head. And then crane your neck even higher, mouth falling open. Unable to fully comprehend what you’re looking at. Because it looks like some of the giant robot nonsense your kid brother is so obsessed with and you’ve apparently gotten way too much sun. Wondering if heat stroke can make you hallucinate as the thing crouches down to stare at you and then grins. “You’ll do,” it growls reaching for you and that shatters the disbelief freezing you. Because nope. Everything about this whole situation. Lunging, you grab one of your sneakers and chuck it at the monster, rolling to your feet and running without even checking to see if it lands.

• Laughing despite himself at your pitiful little attack and attempt to escape, he makes a grab for you, tips of his servos brushing your hip and then you’re pinwheeling your arms and falling sideways into the rectangular pool of water you were laying beside. It’s easy enough to scoop you out as you sputter and slap at his servos. Apparently, this one is half feral, struggling and squirming as he examines it. “You’re going to be fun, aren’t you?” From the nearby building, the front door is opening and he leaps up, turbines roaring and focuses. You’re screaming in his grip as he pictures the base, energy twisting over and through him, and he warps.

• You’re limp in his servos when he reappears just outside the hidden base, startling Vortex who’s supposed to be on guard duty, but appears to be working his way through a bottle of high grade. One of several if the pile the mech tries to nudge out of sight with a ped is any indication. “That a human?” The Combaticon asks, reaching as if to grab you and Skywarp’s wings flick up aggressively. Venting at him, Vortex relents. “Don’t want it, anyway. They’re weird.”

• Striding past, his optics flick to you, servos shifting until he finds the steady beat of your heart to make sure the warp didn’t kill you since he wasn’t sure what it would do to an organic. And how can he unravel what the big deal is if you die so soon? Venting, he carries you to his quarters wondering how hard a human is to care for. Surely it can’t be that bad.

[justmeinatree]

06 - ‘Cause I Want You Bad

Summary : Part 6 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, edging, subspace, pussy spanking

Word Count : 4.5k

GIFs : unknown, msg for credit

louis knew he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t have you on his lap, shouldn’t have his hands gripped into your bum, shouldn’t have you slowly grinding on him, shouldn’t have his tongue in your mouth. but when you came down the stairs wearing his grey sweat pants, louis just about lost his mind. 

“where’s niall ?” louis groans, something that makes your eyebrows furrow. not that you didn’t love niall, not that you didn’t always want him around, just, right in this exact moment, you weren’t exactly thinking about him. 

“’s saturday,” you mumbled against louis’ lips, as if that explained everything. but when you feel louis’ face contort into confusion, you explain between kisses, refusing to ever fully remove your mouth from his. “when we’re both home on saturday mornings,” you start, pausing to kiss louis deeply, your grip in his hair tightening, teeth sinking into the plushness of his bottom lip. “we take some time for each other,” kiss, “we like this cafe a few blocks away,” kiss, “he’s gone to pick up scones, muffins, coffee,” kiss, “s’tradition.”

and suddenly louis felt like such an intruder. you two had a saturday morning tradition, and here he was, getting in the way. he pulls away from the kiss, hand pressed on your chest, keeping you far enough to be just out of reach of his lips, eliciting the sweetest little whimper from you. “i can leave, darling.”

“wha- no,” you shake your head, pulling his hand from your chest, back down to your hip, mouth attaching to his neck, “he’s getting breakfast for three,” you explain, taking a moment to suck a small bruise behind his ear, smiling as you dip back into his lips. “s’about all of us now, remember ?” you murmur, not giving him a chance to really answer, too caught up in his mouth.

louis swears he can feel his heart swell at the thought. he was being included into a long standing tradition. if he’d ever felt insecure about his position in this relationship, it was definitely waning. the only problem now, is that louis’ desperate to get inside you, and niall’s on his way with breakfast, dammit. “how long until niall’s back ?” louis finds himself asking, most of it coming out as an incoherent mumble, one that he has to repeat when you give him enough time in between kisses. 

you groan in frustration, eyebrows furrowed, “why are you so preoccupied with niall right now ?” seriously, the question may have come off bitchy, especially if your name was niall, but truthfully, you were having the most incredible moment with louis. him being all you could clearly focus on, and here he is, asking about someone else.

“isn’t this kind of pushing the cheating line ?” louis asks, remembering the night, a while ago now, where the three of you came up with one rule, only including louis if you were all present. and although louis’ quite sure that having a very heated makeout session won’t really bother niall, he can’t be so sure that the same could be said about putting his entire cock inside you. 

you were still momentarily confused, until the rule floated back into your mind, when realization of louis’ apprehension made complete sense. you sit back on louis’ thighs, shoulders slumping, looking at him in pure adoration, “things have changed, significantly since then,” you chuckle softly. honestly, the opportunity just hadn’t presented itself for you and louis to have a moment alone like this, and therefore the rule lay far down in your memory, almost forgotten. especially by now, when you were pretty certain that niall would not mind one bit. he’d probably find it incredibly hot to walk in on louis’ cock buried deep inside you. “niall won’t mind at all,” you add for good measure, leaning forward to dip back in for more kisses, hips grinding down harder on him.

louis groans, whining slightly. fuck, he wanted to, wanted you, so badly. but he couldn’t bring himself to it without expressly hearing from niall that it was okay. he needed to be certain that the rules had changed for everybody. and so louis’ grip on your hips tighten, holding you in place, ceasing your movements, “not until niall gets back,” louis warns softly. 

well fine, you think to yourself, but you didn’t have to make it easy. your hand grips into louis’ hair, tipping his head back, exposing his neck. your mouth works its way over his stubbly skin, tracing feather soft kisses, and teeny nipping bites. you take your time, slowly working over his entire neck, paying close attention to spots that made his breathing hitch. 

louis kept his hands gripped into your hips, not allowing you the satisfaction of grinding down on him. but he was losing his resolve quickly. it was so easy to get lost in you, so easy to give into anything you wanted. and the moment your mouth closed around his earlobe, sucking and biting softly, as you breathe out a groan, one that reverberates right into his ear, shooting down his spine, going straight to his cock, louis was sure he’d lost complete control of himself for a moment. his body reacting on its own, hips bucking up into you, hard.

it pulled a moan from you, again, landing right in his ear, as your forehead rested against his temple. “again,” you whine breathily in his ear, figuring the trick to getting louis doing whatever you pleased. it seemed to go hand in hand with how much he loves and gets off on hearing niall speak.

louis can’t help himself, hips lifting again, groaning as he feels you, still wearing his sweats, surely sticky with your arousal by now. another thought that swirls through his mind, not helping the situation he’s put himself in. louis turns his head, catching your lips with his own, pulling your mouth from his ear, kissing you deep. kissing you hard. he needed a grounding distraction, and it was the best thing he could think of. plus, it kept your mouth busy from bringing him right to the edge.

it was a few minutes later, that you both recognize the thwacking sound of niall’s shoes being thrown off unceremoniously, followed by the trudging of his footsteps. “finally,” louis breathes, pulling away from your mouth, hips rolling hard into yours.

niall rounds the corner into the living room, right as you whimper, eyes locked on louis’. a smirk pulls at niall’s lips, dropping the coffees and treats on the end table, “guess the coffees are going cold this morning,” he laughs. 

“fuck yes,” louis groans, head falling back on the couch, eyes closing, “i’ll get us more later, but for now, please just get over here.”

niall looks at you in slight confusion at the snippiness of louis’ tone. he’s met with your rolling eyes, and the word “rules,” as the only explanation you give. you can see that niall takes a moment, much like you did at first, just to remember what that was, eyes flicking over fondly to louis’ when he realizes. “since when do you follow the rules, anyway ?” niall asks, chuckling, even more confusion etched in his features.

louis groans loudly, laughing, as he shakes his head. he lifts his head from the back of the couch, cheeks turning a slight red as he looks back and forth between you and niall for a moment, gaze filled with adoration. “since i really don’t want to fuck up,” louis admits.

niall flops himself on the couch next to louis, pulling him in for a quick kiss. he almost couldn’t believe the surge of emotions at louis’ confession. “y’not fucking up, mate,” niall murmurs, eyes locked on louis’ as he says it, wanting him to understand the seriousness of what he was saying.

“we want you here, louis,” you murmur, reaching out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it. “in all the ways,” you add, meaning that it wasn’t just sex anymore. 

louis knew. he knew this. you’d both been so sweet, and so patient, always reassuring him. truthfully, he just needed to get out of his own head. needed to let himself live this, be in it fully. “i know,” louis nods, his eyes holding so much truth, so much love. “i’m sorry, i’m getting there yeah ?” he admits with a soft sigh.

“remind ya every fuckin day if i have to,” niall chuckles playfully. although the statement stood, he happily would remind louis every day if he needed. still, lightening the mood was his strong suit, especially in moments like this, when you were both so clearly right into each other, bodies craving. it was no time to be having this talk.

both you and louis know what that meant. you both know niall well enough. the little joke was his way of ending the conversation, of tabling it until later when the time would be more appropriate. “now, it seems i’ve interrupted something,” niall smirks at the two of you, sitting back against the couch, making himself comfortable, taking his coffee and muffin, raising his eyebrow as he looks back at the both of you. “don’t stop on my account,” he smiles, taking a tiny bite of the chocolate chip muffin, and a small slurpy sip of his coffee for emphasis. 

you bite your lip, looking back at louis, gentle smile pulling at your lips. louis looked so soft, so cozy. you couldn’t help but reach out and cup his jaw, pulling his face to yours, kissing him deeply again. you could feel how much more laidback he was now that niall was here. you hadn’t realized before, but now that he’s so much calmer, his entire demeanour looser, it clicks in your mind that he may have been a bit nervous earlier. you just aren’t sure why. 

although it had been over a year since the first time you brought up the idea of a threesome in that hotel room, louis still relied heavily on niall’s cues for just about everything. not that he didn’t think he couldn’t, more that it felt tried and true, and he couldn’t fuck up since niall never fucked up. niall knew you so well, he just always knew. and louis’ still learning, so really, it just felt easier, and much less stressful, to feed off of niall’s cues. 

so now that he was here, watching and savouring his breakfast, slowly growing a stiffy, enjoying this way too much, louis’ grip into you tightened significantly, his entire behaviour shifting. 

niall though, wanting the show to move along, tuts softly, “get naked already,” he laughs around his mouthful of food. but still, it worked, as he watches you slowly raise to your feet, standing between louis’ legs, gripping the base of your tank top and pulling it off over your head. it was still much too early in the day for a bra, your chest instantly exposed to them. louis’ hands cup the sides of your breast, groaning softly, as his thumbs reach out to flick over your nipples, “beautiful girl,” he breathes, before his palms slide down your sides to the hem of his pants that you were wearing. louis slowly pulls them down, watching a strand of arousal connect your centre with his pants, watching it snap as the material falls down your legs.

louis groans, gripping your hips, pulling you up to him. his mouth instantly falls on your pussy, sucking up any arousal that he can. a loud groany moan falls from your lips, head tilting back, louis pulling one of your legs, bending it at the knee, and resting your foot on the couch next to him. the position gives him better access to your cunt, mouth working tirelessly, hands gripping into your bum, holding you in place. 

you gripped into louis’ hair, centring yourself, as your eyes roll back, the messiness of louis’ technique always sending you reeling. he was everywhere you didn’t even know you needed. shifting from his tongue to his lips to his teeth, licking, sucking, nipping, from your clit to your entrance to inside you, pressed on your sweet spot. you’ll have to remember to ask if he has a technique, or if he just goes for it. either way, you were already so heated, breathing laboured, coming out in soft breathy pants.

with all the work that louis had put in before niall even got home, and the extra work right now, your cunt finally getting direct contact with the man you’ve been craving for the last half hour, you could feel yourself approaching your first high. could feel the heat start to spread through your body, could feel your muscles start twitching. 

louis could feel it too. your tummy was spasming, legs trembling, moans more desperate. he brought you right to the edge, right to where the coil was about to snap, and he pulled away, looking up at you with a smirk, “not yet, love.”

his mouth, his chin were soaked, tongue licking over his lips, just waiting for your reaction. it took your brain a quick moment to catch up to the fact that your pleasure had ended so abruptly, a groan grumbling from the depths of your chest, falling forward, forehead resting against louis’, a look of desperation on your features.

all louis does, however, is press his mouth to yours, invading your senses with your own taste, licking into your mouth, depositing more of your arousal onto your tongue. 

niall was watching on, desperate for a taste of you, his breakfast long forgotten, pants pulled down halfway to his knees, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor. he hadn’t given in by touching himself yet, but his hand was gripped into his upper, inner thigh, and he was losing resolve. something about watching the two of you was so hot to niall. he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but he thinks he could do this for the rest of his life. watch you two until he’s so worked up that he needs to join. 

your hips drop to louis’, his cock perfectly nestled between your folds, rolling yourself on him. the tip of his prick was hitting your clit so deliciously, then catching on your entrance with every sway of your hips. you were picking up speed, teased right to the edge just moments ago, now furiously in search of the high you’d been denied.

“makin yourself feel good, pet ?” niall asks, his eyes roaming both your bodies, entranced in the glistening pool of arousal you’ve left behind on louis’ skin, the little red fingerprint indents in your hips and your bum from the strength of louis’ grasp. it was a miracle niall had been able to hold out so long, and still somehow finding the composure to not jump in just yet.

louis’ eyes were trained on your centres, watching you use him to pleasure yourself. with every backwards glide of your hips, he could see just how wet you were making him, feeling your arousal pool below his cock. he could feel your clenches whenever he’d hit a more sensitive spot, could hear your moans getting breathier, your urgency becoming greater. you were close again. that much, louis was good at reading. and just as you were about to scream out, he was pulling your hips clean off of his, leaving you with no friction, and no means to reach your peak.

you do end up screaming out, although not as erotically as you’d planned. it was just about the most frustrating thing you could think of, making your entire body twitch as it came down from nothing. “please,” you find yourself begging, “please louis, please,” you add whinier, whimpering as you grip into him.

niall catches the moment that louis’ eyes flicked to his. louis was checking in, making sure that this wasn’t pushing you too far. he thinks that so far, he’s only witnessed you revelling in multiple orgasms. he’s never been a part of a scene that involved edging with you. by niall’s reaction though, louis knows you’re alright, that this isn’t your first time, that your whines hadn’t reached any thresholds as of yet. 

and so, without hesitation, louis slides his cock inside you, angling his tip right for your sweet spot, something else he’s learned, and gotten quite pro at. it knocks the air straight out of your lungs, gasping for a breath, as louis keeps up a slow, hard pace. 

your head rolled forward, looking down at louis desperately, unshed tears pooling in your eyes, pleading gaze hitting him. for the first time, he held all the cards. he could see that you were on the edge of tipping into floatiness. and no matter how much power your gaze held, louis needed to see where he could push you. as soon as your cunt started to flutter on him, tremors almost overlapping, louis pulls out, “not yet, darling,” he groans, watching the shift in your eyes. 

louis only felt fully comfortable doing so with niall watching so attentively. he knew that if anything, niall had the situation under control. it appeased louis. and little did he know, it appeased you as well. 

your body falls forward again, being left on the peak, just to fall once again. your mouth crashes onto louis’, needing an anchor for a moment, gripping his hair for balance. you were a whimpery, panting mess, your hips flailing, trying to escape louis’ grasp. 

niall couldn’t hold back anymore. his cock was so hard, he was growing more and more needy, and he was desperate to have an opportunity at bringing you to the edge as well. so he comes to a stand behind you, fingers reaching out for your hole. 

the added touch made you jump slightly, not having realized that niall had gotten up and was now right there. he’s quick to reassuringly shush you, murmuring, “y’still stretched from last night ?” his fingertips dance around your ring of muscles, index slowly breaching. you were so mellow, muscles still relaxed from last night, niall would have no trouble joining the scene. it makes him reach over to the drawer in the end table by the couch, pulling out a small bottle of lube. 

louis looks on with a playful smirk and raised eyebrow, “dirty, the two of you,” he laughs, incredulously shaking his head. although, really, he shouldn’t be surprised at this point. obviously you two would have lube within easy reach, always at the ready. 

niall slowly eased his way inside you, your muscles giving way easily, eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting as you moan out. your face was buried in louis’ chest, back arched, hips straight up. louis gently coaxed your head up a tiny bit, enough for him to kiss you deeply. you were so tingly, so buzzy, egged on by the moans niall was echoing out from behind you. 

you were so close to the edge, brought closer and closer each time, almost permanently trembling. “please,” you whimper, needing to cum, needing it so badly. you were so hot, so desperate for a release. but niall didn’t allow it, pulled out a moment later, making you bite into louis’ lip, hard. your body trying to curl in on itself, unable to in the position you were in. “need to beg a lot more if you’re that desperate,” niall tuts with a smirk.

niall takes it upon himself to not allow you the break they’d been allowing you up until now, reaching below you to grip at louis’ prick, pulling a gasp from him, placing his cock right at your entrance, pressing you down to sit on him. both you and louis moan out loudly, bucking up into you, making you rise entirely, lifted by his hips, cock empaled into you. 

they were taking their turns, bringing you right to the edge, pulling out and letting the other have a turn. it was constant, keeping you right there, unable to attain your peak. your body was limply being shuffled from straight up against niall’s chest, to folded over louis’ body. you were gasping for air, pleading with loud whines. the back and forth and back and forth feeling of switching holes and switching cocks, you could barely keep up, not with the way you were floating now, so far gone. you felt so properly used, like a doll for them to fuck. and you loved it. the best release.

you’d lost count of how many times they alternated being inside you. all you knew was that you were about to lose any resolve. you were teetering on the peak, and niall had started recognizing that their time inside you was getting shorter and shorter. but really, niall wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. he and louis, however-

niall decides to keep your hips floating, above louis and a bit too far from himself. he reaches down below you, gripping louis’ cock and tugging quickly. it pokes a hard breath from his lungs, head falling back and baring his throat, “fuck, niall, fuck,” louis whines out, the sudden contrast from the slowness of his thrusts inside you, to the quickness of niall’s hand threw him in a bit of a frenzy. 

as floaty as you were, you recognized that niall was working louis now, was bringing him to his own edge, while still denying you yours. it made you whine more desperately, crying out pleads, tears streaming down your cheeks as you realize that they’ll be letting themselves cum. without you. something they both manage quickly with all of their own edging in the process.

louis moans out, cum painting both your pussy and his own stomach, back arching as he does. niall uses the cum on his hand to stroke himself, cumming moments later, also painting your sopping cunt. it was so dirty, the image that niall was privy to. your heat leaking a mixture of arousal and multiple loads of cum, right down onto louis’ cock. without much thought, niall leaves an open palm smack right over your centre.

you cry out loudly, muscles spasming, gush of liquid erupting from your cunt. the spanking wouldn’t make you cum, niall knew that. but it sure could make your squirt. “colour,” niall’s quick to ask, quicker than louis even thought of it, another testament as to why he likes to have niall around for these moments. and as soon as a quiet “green” spilled from your lips, louis had shuffled down, head between your legs, taking a turn in landing his own smack to your cunt. 

with another loud cry, you gushed some more liquid, louis’ mouth awaiting to catch as much as he could, happily humming as he swallowed. “want a taste, tommo,” niall grunted, landing another spank himself, louis ready to collect. he slithered from his spot between your legs, gripping into niall’s hair to tip his head back. louis pinched niall’s chin, making his mouth open, depositing your squirt into his mouth. niall moaned out, swallowing, mouth suctioning to louis’ in an intense kiss. their first one of the day. and they were indulging. full of tongue and teeth clattering, groaning right next to your ear, you whimpered, trying to get their attention, desperate for them. 

once louis pulled away breathlessly, noting how blissed out you looked, leaned back against niall, head tipped over his shoulder, gasping for small breaths, body trembling, tear stains on your cheeks. you looked beautiful. louis kisses his way back down your body, figuring he could give into you just a tiny bit, before smacking your abused cunt once again, needing to taste more. 

you were so far gone, you couldn’t think, your brain too prickly. the pleasure that had taken over your body was so intense, skin heated like it was being burned, electric zaps coursing through your veins. you’d long lost count of how many spanks your poor pussy had taken, revelling in the gushing pleasure it allowed you each time.

“make her cum,” niall speaks out to louis, starting to note just how far you’d fallen. no longer able to answer the question he’d been asking for a good minute. a question that you hadn’t even heard due to the ringing in your ears. nor had you registered the fact that he told louis to make you cum.

so a surprised squeak left your lips as his mouth closed around your puffy clit, suctioning it into his mouth, flicking his tongue quickly. “cum, petal,” niall murmurs against your ear, knowing that the words would reach your subconscious, trembling so hard as your high finally peaked. it was so strong, body wracking, you fell through niall’s arms, louis’ hands quickly reaching up to catch you. he slithered from under you again, letting you rest against his chest as you gasped and panted for breath, far out of consciousness.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been using louis to recover, but his hand was gently stroking your hair, niall sitting next to him, playing with your fingers, stroking your palm. 

it was the soft shuffle of your head, burying yourself more into louis, that makes him realize you’d come to. his other hand reaches around you to squeeze you lightly, niall smiling at you, “welcome back, petal.”

you hum, nodding, smiling at them, still too exhausted and weak to lift your head. “be here all day if y’need, darling,” louis murmurs quietly, ready to give you the comfort needed after the intensity of the scene. your heart melting at his willingness, humming breathily, leaving a soft kiss against his skin. 

niall can really see how good louis is with you, but also realizes that he’s leaning a little too much on his experience. he remembers the early days with you, when he could learn you and test with you. it’s those moments that brought you two as close as you are now. the opportunity to make safe mistakes and learn from them, getting to know each other intimately by trying and by getting messy. and he trusts louis, knows that you do too. it was just time for louis to trust himself, niall thinks. “we’re gonna need another talk, rethink those rules,” niall hums, watching you nod, and a fond smirk pull at louis’ lips. things had changed, it was time that the rules and the dynamic did as well.

……

Series Masterlist

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tags : @acesofspadess @mar1posita @gorlsinmultifandoms @emmaarenstarr @slutforcoffein

@blondedmgc @daphnesutton @hslt-2809 @louischasesniall @take-a-cchonce

[creamflix]

gojo satoru x reader; no reader gender implied. established relationship. angst, minimal comfort. gojo's childish and lowkey a guilt tripper — masterlist here ☆

cooking with satoru was something you cherished.

it was playful, light, and full of laughter — the kind of moments that filled your heart and reassured you of the life you were building together. he’d sneak bites of sugar, swipe a spoonful of whipped cream, and act like a child in the best ways, making you laugh until your stomach hurt. so when you decided to make mochi for him, something new, something special, you had that familiar warmth in your chest, eager to see his reaction.

as you set the finished mochi in front of him, he perked up, curiosity lighting up his face. he took a bite, humming in appreciation, but then his expression shifted into something… nostalgic.

“ya know, an ex of mine used to make mochi just like this,” he said, almost absently. there was a smile in his voice, the kind that meant he was remembering something fondly.

your heart dropped.

you didn’t know much about satoru’s past relationships. he’d always brushed them off, calling them trivial, unimportant, saying he didn’t want you thinking about them because you were his present and his future.

but hearing him reminisce about this now, his voice soft, that slight faraway look in his eyes — it was like watching him slip into a part of his life you couldn’t touch.

“oh?” you managed, forcing a small smile, trying to keep your voice light. “did she make it like this?”

he shrugged, casually nodding. “pretty close! she had this way of makin’ it fluffy, and it was perfect every time. she’d always get so proud whenever i said i loved it.” he chuckled, taking another bite.

“guess you can’t beat a classic.”

the words stung.

you could feel them sinking in, twisting around every little insecurity you’d ever buried. the mochi that you’d poured effort into, hoping to surprise him, suddenly felt like a cheap imitation.

can’t beat a classic — as if she’d set the bar that you were just falling short of.

“do you… miss her?” you asked, voice barely a whisper, not even sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

he looked up, brow furrowing slightly, as if he couldn’t understand why you’d ask. “nah,” he said with a shrug, his tone dismissive. “she’s the past, y’know? ion keep up with stuff like that.”

you tried to nod, to smile, but the ache in your chest only deepened. “but… it seems like you remember a lot about her.”

he gave a short laugh, carefree, completely missing the weight of your words. “well, i mean, she made good mochi! can’t really forget that, right?” he took another bite, oblivious, as if he hadn’t just peeled back something raw in you.

your fingers tightened around the edge of the counter, struggling to keep your composure.

why couldn’t he see how much this hurt? you were standing right here, offering him something that you’d made with care, something meant just for him, and all he could talk about was someone else’s version.

“satoru…” you started, your voice catching. “i wanted this to be ours, you know? not… not just something that reminds you of her.”

he looked at you, blinking as if he didn’t quite understand why this was a big deal. “babe, you’re overthinking it. it’s just mochi.”

but it wasn’t just mochi.

it was the effort you’d put in, the way you’d hoped to make him feel loved, to build something unique between you two.

and instead, he’d brought someone else into this space, someone whose shadow you didn’t want hanging over you.

“it’s not just mochi to me,” you said, your voice breaking despite yourself. “i just… i wanted this to be special for us. but it feels like i’m just reminding you of someone else, someone i can’t… someone i can’t replace.”

he laughed again, an airy, dismissive sound. “come onnn, you’re taking this way too seriously.” he reached over, ruffling your hair in that teasing way of his, as if you were being silly, blowing this all out of proportion.

“you’re the one here with me, aren’t you? don’t worry about it so much.”

but his words were just empty air, failing to fill the growing hollow in your chest.

he wasn’t seeing it, wasn’t hearing the pain underneath your words, the way this had cut deeper than he realized.

to him, it was nothing, a forgotten past with no meaning, but to you, it was a reminder that you were still living in someone else’s shadow, always trying to measure up to memories that felt untouchable.

as he went back to eating, laughing over something trivial, your heart ached with the words left unspoken, with the hope that someday he’d understand without you having to break yourself to make him see.

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[emilynyaesmp]

Ok so heres my idea for the “does everyone remember the life series or is it just the winners?” Debate/theory

Everyone remembers small bits of the seasons but only the winners and the canary remembers the seasons in their entirety (unless they didn’t die first in a season).

Why does the canary remember it? Well, the watchers feed off of negativity, right? So they’d want the canary to remember that they’ve died first again and again and again, over and over and over again and that this time is no different. So Jimmy remembers past seasons, all except Secret Life because Lizzie was out first.

Speaking of Lizzie, let’s explain her. In her newest episode she mentions “when I invite people to things, they don’t show up”, she mentions Secret Life, she actually talks about her failed birthday party but since neither Scar nor Jimmy even went to it (or heard of it, i think??? Idk I don’t watch their POV’s) they don’t really react, Jimmy, because he wasn’t the canary that season and he CERTAINLY wasn’t a winner and because his seabling’s birthday party was so insignificant to his POV, he doesn’t remember it, Scar, although he remembers SL since he’s a winner now, didn’t even hear of it (if he had I think he’d have gone but idk, correct me if I’m wrong) so he doesn’t react. As for Last Life, Lizzie remembers just as much as a loser would, since she’s not a winner or a canary in Last Life.

Basically, if ur a loser but not the canary, you only remember small glimpses of the past life games. like Lizzie for instance would only remember her teammates in LL, what happened when she was the boogie, the Big-b betrayal, Cleo leaving, basically any big event in her POV, but nothing more. Which is why she says “I feel safe with you guys” around Cleo, because she doesn’t properly remember what Cleo did, she remembers the fire, just vaguely. (Though I think she’d say that anyway, but that might just be my shadowrot shipping mind talking).

This even explains the Flower Husband stuff. Scott’s a winner, the first season, the last one before he won, was 3rd life, the season Jimmy was his husband. He’s attached to that (Jimmy is too guys TRUST 🙏🙏), he knows Jimmy remembers and he wants him to at least acknowledge that they loved eachother, that they were married, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because it hurts to much to remember, because he’s worried of dying first again, because if he dies first, he’d leave Scott alone again and he doesn’t want that. (Flower husbands is canon guys!! Please!! I’m desperate!!)

Jimmy acts a bit careless this season, dying to a creeper even though like five seconds before he was laughing about how close he was to dying, he didn’t take it seriously, not until then I don’t think. For the rest of that session Jimmy is terrified that he’ll die, he’s paranoid and worries any time anything remotely dangerous comes near him. Before that session, before episode 3, i think Jimmy was completely convinced that the canary curse was gone, he believed it with his whole heart, because, well, last season he came third! Third! That’s the best he’s ever done! And what’s this new season? Wild life, where anything can happen, and they all have six lives, so it’s not like Last Life were he was given 2 lives, this time he has a chance!

Uh, yeah that’s basically my theory/idea. Also, for Cleo, since RL wasn’t a season and just one episode she only remembers the entirety of RL but the other seasons is just what a loser would remember.