#and will tell me if what i’m wearing is truly ugly

[haytan]

WILDFLOWER | G.A

inspired by billie eilish's wildflower. I think you can already predict that it's very angst. I cried writing this and I love it even more because of it.

𓍼 WORD COUNT: 3390

𓍼 SUMMARY: after listening to Two People on Good Riddance tour something invades you, like a fever.

𓍼 WARNINGS: angst, good ending...

good riddance had been out for a few months now, yet you still remembered the nights when gracie came home late from the studio. it might have seemed like a bad thing, but she always found a way to make it up to you—small surprises, late-night apologies that always ended with her between your legs—so, in the end, it was never really that bad.

one of the things you admired most about her was her honesty, especially when it came to her feelings. while working on the album, she never let you forget how much she loved you, how important your relationship was, and how those lyrics were nothing more than echoes of old wounds.

more than anyone, you understood what this album meant to her. it wasn’t just a way to express everything she had been through, but the first project that was truly hers, a piece of her heart laid bare. and you had been there for every part of it.

before love ever crossed your mind, you and gracie were just friends. and you had the luck—or maybe the curse—of knowing her ex-boyfriend, of watching them grow together and, eventually, fall apart.

it should have been easy to let time wash it all away, to accept that the past was nothing more than that. you had promised yourself it wouldn’t matter anymore. you had promised gracie, too.

but then two people started playing.

and when gracie sang that one specific line—

"and you know, you know every inch of my body"

that was when the tears started falling, before you could even think about stopping them. that was the night you started seeing him in the back of your mind again when you started feeling like you were burning alive.

but you knew she didn't mean to hurt you.

so you kept it to yourself.

…

the next morning, usually filled with kisses and silly conversations, is ruined by a tension that settles between you like something unspoken—thick and heavy. the air inside the apartment feels too still, as if it’s holding its breath, waiting for one of you to break the silence.

gracie leans against the sink, absentmindedly stirring her tea, though you’re not even sure if she actually intends to drink it. her fingers tap a slow rhythm against the ceramic mug, eyes fixed on some distant point.

you sit on a stool by the counter, arms crossed, so close yet so far away. the hum of the fridge, the faint ticking of the clock on the wall—everything sounds too loud in the midst of the silence between you.

"are you really not going to talk to me?" gracie finally says, her voice quieter than usual but heavy with frustration.

you exhale through your nose, hearing your own heartbeat echo inside your head. "i don’t know what you want me to say."

"i want you to say whatever it is that’s bothering you."

you shake your head, staring at a spot on the floor. "it’s nothing, gracie."

she laughs, but there’s no humor in it. "liar. you shut down the moment we got home. you barely looked at me all night. just tell me what’s going on!"

"i already told you—i’m fine."

"no, you’re not." she leans forward slightly, exasperated. "and i’m tired of pretending i don’t notice when you’re upset just because you refuse to talk to me."

your chest tightens. part of you knows she’s right. but another part—the one that’s been burning since last night, since that damn song and the way it made something ugly take root inside you—wants to resist.

you run your hands through your hair, a habit stolen from her. "maybe i just don’t want to talk about it, okay?"

gracie shakes her head. "god, why do you always do this? why do you always push me away when something’s wrong?"

"because i don’t want to fight with you!" you snap, your voice rising as your patience wears thin. "i don’t want to ruin the morning or… or make things weird before your show!"

gracie exhales sharply, setting her mug down on the counter harder than she intended. "and you think not talking makes everything better? because right now, it just feels like you’re shutting me out."

you press your fingers against your forehead, breathing heavily. "i just need time, okay?"

"time for what?" her voice wavers now, a trace of hurt seeping in. "for me to stop asking? for me to just sit here and pretend i don’t see that you’re upset?"

"for me to figure out how to talk without sounding like an idiot!"

that makes her pause. the tension between you crackles in the air, the silence stretching too long.

gracie swallows, the sound making you shiver.

"you know what? forget it," she says, turning back to the sink and picking up her tea.

you close your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. "gracie—"

"no, i get it." she cuts you off, taking a long sip. "you don’t want to talk. fine."

gracie turns back to you, searching your face for some sign of regret, but she finds nothing but confusion.

"in the end, i’m always the only one trying to fix things," she says before walking away, the sound of her heavy footsteps echoing as she climbs the stairs.

you stay there, sitting on the stool, staring at the empty space where gracie stood just seconds ago.

your fingers grip the edge of the counter, and you let out a shaky breath, frustration still pulsing beneath your skin. this wasn’t how you wanted the morning to go. this wasn’t how you wanted things to be before her show.

but now it’s done.

you rub your face, trying to clear your thoughts. but everything feels blurred, tangled—a mess of emotions you don’t know how to unravel.

the apartment suddenly feels too small. the air inside it, too heavy.

you need to get out.

standing up quickly, you grab a sweatshirt draped over a chair and shove your keys into your pocket. the soft click of the door unlocking echoes through the apartment, but there’s no sound from upstairs. no attempt to stop you from leaving.

a part of you wishes there was.

you walk down the stairs slowly, hands buried in your pockets, with no real destination in mind. you just keep moving.

the cold morning air hits you the moment you step outside, and an immediate urge to cry swells inside you. your nose starts to sting, your eyes well up, and before you know it, those words are replaying in your head again.

"and you know, you know every inch of my body."

you know she loves you. you should let this go, shouldn’t you? but he lingers, always there, in the back of your mind.

last night, when gracie wrapped her arms around you, kissed the nape of your neck, and told you she loved you, you wanted to turn around, hold her tighter, tell her you loved her more, and start a silly argument over it.

but every time she touched you, all you could think about was how he felt.

had gracie ever looked at you and seen him? in the dark of the bedroom, between kisses and whispered promises, had a part of him ever slipped into her mind?

and if, just for a moment, she had wished it was him instead of you?

you try to push the thought away, try to hold onto the certainties gracie gives you—the way she reaches for your hand without thinking, the way her eyes light up when she talks about you, the i love yous that sound so real.

but doubt creeps in, spreading like a loose thread unraveling everything.

what if they’re not?

what if, deep down, you’re only here because he’s not?

the thought tightens in your chest. you swallow hard and keep walking, unfamiliar streets closing in around you.

but nothing feels as endless or inescapable as the maze inside your own mind.

…

the lights dim, and the crowd erupts into cheers. the air is electric, pulsing with anticipation, and gracie feels it thrumming through her veins. she grips the microphone tightly, fingers trembling just slightly, but she forces herself to take a deep breath. this is her moment—her show. no matter what happened this morning, she needs to push through.

but she knows better than to think she can just shut it out.

as she steps onto the stage, her eyes scan the audience, moving quickly over the sea of faces. the adrenaline in her chest spikes as she catches sight of you.

standing near the back, hands buried in your pockets, shoulders drawn tight, looking at her like you’re not sure whether you want to be here or not.

the moment stretches between you, thick with words left unsaid.

gracie knows that for months she has been exposing you to these painful memories embedded in her own songs. but she also knows that they are past pains, without weight or meaning, and she expected you to know that too. if something was wrong, you would tell her. wouldn't you? but as she stands there, watching you from the stage, doubt grips her chest.

did i cross the line?

abrams swallows hard, forcing herself to keep moving, to wave at the fans screaming her name, to smile like she’s okay. but her mind is already somewhere else, stuck in the heaviness of this morning, the way you looked at her, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you as you left.

she drags in another breath, stepping up to the mic as the opening chords of the first song hum through the speakers. the setlist is the same as always, but tonight, everything feels different. she wonders if you can feel it too, if the weight pressing down on her is pressing down on you as well.

and then the next song starts.

the one that ruined everything last night.

the crowd sings along, voices blending with hers. her gaze, however, is locked on yours. she sings the line without hesitation, without breaking, watching the way your jaw clenches, your eyes darkening just slightly. she wonders if you can tell that she’s looking at you. if you can hear what she’s trying to say through the words that once meant something else.

i didn’t mean to hurt you.

it’s just a song. it’s just a song.

but that doesn’t make it any less real, does it?

the song ends, the moment passes, and yet, the weight lingers. the rest of the show blurs together—flashes of movement, chords, applause—but that moment stays lodged in her ribs, burning like something she doesn’t know how to name.

by the time the final song fades, the crowd’s cheers ring in her ears, and gracie barely remembers getting through it. sweat clings to her skin as she steps backstage, her heart still pounding too fast, and she doesn’t know if it’s from the performance or the way you looked at her.

she doesn’t have time to figure it out before she hears movement behind her.

turning slowly, she finds you standing there, just a few feet away.

you’re still wearing that same guarded expression, the one that makes something in her ache, but there’s something else beneath it now. something hesitant. something like regret.

she wants to say something, anything—but what is there to say?

where were you?

are you okay?

i’m sorry?

but before she can choose the perfect false words, you take the first step. "we should talk… at home."

"yeah, definitely," she says almost automatically.

you hold each other’s gaze for a moment, both fidgeting with your hands—shared habits.

the ride home is silent. the radio plays some random melody, but neither of you really listens. gracie keeps her hands on her thighs, fingers restless, resisting the urge to reach out. she doesn’t know if it would be welcomed. if she still can.

on the other side, you stare out the window, your hand so close to hers. close enough that if one of you just…

but no one moves.

back home, the silence is just as heavy. gracie drops her bag on the counter but doesn’t step away, fingers gripping the marble as if she needs something solid to hold onto.

this time, there are no distractions. just the two of you and the space between you.

"can we talk now?" gracie asks, her voice low.

"yeah," you answer hesitant. but it takes a moment before you can actually speak.

gracie’s breath seems caught in her chest as she waits, and you hate it—hate how uncertainty spreads across her features, like she’s bracing for something bad. but the truth is, you don’t even know how to put what you’re feeling into words.

you run your tongue over your dry lips before finally saying:

"that song last night, two people… it really fucked me up."

gracie blinks a few times, surprised by the raw honesty in your voice. she swallows hard before responding.

"i didn’t…" she pauses, the words dying before they fully form. "i didn’t mean for it to hurt you."

"i know." you squeeze your fingers, letting out a heavy sigh. "but it did."

gracie nods slowly, eyes fixed on you, unsure of where to step. "you never said anything before. about the song, about…" she hesitates. "him."

"because i thought i was fine," you admit, your voice coming out rougher than you intended. "i thought i had let it go. but hearing it—hearing you sing it—just brought everything back, and i hated it. i hated that it still gets to me."

gracie stays silent for a moment, her gaze locked on you like she’s searching for the right thing to say. then, in a hesitant, almost resigned tone, she asks:

"do you want me to stop singing it?"

do you want that?

"because if you do, i will."

"of course not," you say, shaking your head. "that’s not the point, gracie."

"then what is the point?"

"i don’t fucking know!" tears start streaming down your face, and suddenly, you’ve never felt more exposed than now. "i’m sorry…" you bring your hands up to your face, as if trying to hide somehow.

gracie doesn’t think. she just moves.

before she can second-guess herself, she closes the space between you, wrapping her arms around your trembling frame. you tense at first, your body stiff against hers, but then, slowly, you sink into it.

your hands clutch the fabric of her jacket, desperate for something to hold onto, something solid in the middle of everything unraveling inside you.

gracie presses her face into your hair, eyes squeezing shut. "hey," she whispers, voice barely steady. "it’s okay. you don’t have to be sorry."

but you shake your head against her shoulder, fingers tightening. "i hate this," you choke out. "i hate feeling like this. like i’m stuck. like i—" your breath catches, breaking apart in your throat.

gracie pulls back just enough to look at you, cradling your face in her hands, her thumbs brushing the tears from your cheeks. her gaze is searching, pained, but steady. "then don’t do it alone." she almost whispers. "let me be here. let us figure this out together."

"look at me," she continues, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers.

your breath hitches. "gracie—"

"i love you."

you swallow hard, eyes flickering between hers. "i know that you love me."

"no." her grip tightens, not to hold you in place, but to make you feel her, to feel the weight of what she’s saying. she looks at you like she’s searching for something deeper, something that words alone can’t reach. "i don’t want you to just know. i need you to feel it. i need you to feel it in every vein in your body, how much i want you, how much i love you, y/n."

your chest tightens, throat burning with unshed tears.

"you’re my baby, my girl, my fucking adorable, sweet princess," she breathes, her forehead resting against yours. "i’d give you the whole damn universe if you asked me. and i’m sorry for not noticing how hard this has been for you."

"you don’t have to do anything," you shake your head. "it’s not your responsibility. it’s not your fault."

gracie lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with her thumb. "i’m your girlfriend, of course it’s my responsibility. but it’s not just that—i want to. i want to be here. i want to hold this with you."

you let out a shaky breath, your forehead still pressed against hers. the warmth of her hands, the closeness of her body, it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

gracie watches you, waiting, giving you space even as she holds you close. there’s no rush, no expectation. just her, just this moment, just the steady rhythm of her breathing mixing with yours.

"i don’t know how to stop feeling like this," you admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"you don’t have to figure it out all at once. we’ll take it one step at a time. no pressure, no rush. just us."

you close your eyes for a moment, letting yourself lean into her, feeling the warmth of her presence wrap around you like something safe, something solid.

then, after a beat, you whisper, "say it again."

gracie pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her lips curving into a soft, knowing smile. "i love you."

you shake your head. "no. the whole thing."

her hands tighten around your face, eyes dark and unwavering as she speaks again, voice like a vow:

"i don’t want you to just know how much i love you. i need you to feel it. in every breath, every touch, every part of you. you’re my baby, my girl, my sweet, adorable princess. and i’d give you the universe if you asked me."

tears slip silently down your cheeks, but this time, they don’t feel heavy. it’s love, because of love.

gracie catches one with her thumb, her smile turning just a little teasing, a little mischievous. "and i’m never singing two people again unless you say it’s okay."

you let out a breathy, tearful laugh, shoving her shoulder lightly. "i never said that."

she grins, eyes crinkling, before she leans in and presses the softest, most deliberate kiss to your lips. like a promise. like a beginning.

gracie doesn’t pull away right away. she lingers her lips barely brushing yours, memorizing the shape of you, like she’s making sure you feel every ounce of her love in that kiss. when she finally does part from you, it’s only far enough to rest her forehead against yours again, her breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

"you okay?"

you nod, a little shy now, a little overwhelmed but in a way that doesn’t hurt as much anymore.

she smiles, thumbs still tracing light patterns on your cheeks before one hand slips down, lacing her fingers with yours. "come here," she says, giving your hand the gentlest tug.

abrams leads you to the couch, pulling you down with her, and before you can even think, she’s tucking you against her side, wrapping you up in warmth. it’s so easy, so effortless—the way your body finds its place against hers, the way her arm fits snugly around your waist, like you were always meant to be here.

"do you wanna talk more?" she asks after a moment, her voice soft. "or do you just wanna stay like this for a while?"

you don’t answer right away. instead, you shift, pressing your face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in. she smells like vanilla and something distinctly her, something comforting.

"this," you murmur against her skin. "just this."

gracie hums, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "okay, baby. just this."

and so you stay there, tangled together in the quiet, her fingers trailing lazy patterns along your back, your hands resting against her chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

it’s not perfect. there’s still a lot to talk about, a lot to work through. but for now, in this moment, in her arms, you feel safe.

and that’s enough.

guys…

thanks for reading <3

back to nav

[maebyshifting]

i sent my brother a tiktok that was the “do you think we’re brother + sister in every universe” and he said “that’s hype” and loved it which tells me in his own special way that he believes we are siblings in every universe and are destined to be siblings :’)

[writemekpop]

Imperfect | Lee Jeno

Summary: You and Jeno make a list of everything you don’t like about each other. 

Genre: Established relationship AU, angst

Word count: 1k

“You don’t believe in soulmates?” Jeno says, as you lie with your head on his chest. His fingers freeze in your hair, showing his shock. 

“I mean, you’re not gonna like everything about your partner,” you say.

“You don’t like – things about me?” Jeno says. “Like what?” 

Your breath falls short. 

“Not big things!” you say, struggling to dig yourself out of this hole. “Your aftershave! It’s a little… intense.” You suppress a grin. “Like I’m drowning.”

Jeno flops back onto the pillow. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You’ve gotta have things you don’t like about me too!” you insist.

“I can’t think of any,” Jeno groans. “I’m too busy trying to smell myself!” 

You hug Jeno tightly, savouring the feeling of his tight muscles beneath your hands. 

“Let’s just make a list, okay? Whenever something bothers us, we’ll write it down, then at the end of the week, we’ll share. No fights.” 

Jeno smiles. “Good idea.”

-- One week later --

Jeno tries to snatch the piece of paper from you. “Just show me! It’s been ages...”

You wrestle the paper out of his hands. Your heart is racing. “One sec! Just making some – last minute – edits.”

You are desperately scratching half of your list out with a pencil – because you realised that Jeno’s list was just a tiny post-it note, whereas you had a full sheet. 

Jeno snatches the paper from your fingers. “A-ha!” Jeno says. 

He clears his throat dramatically. “Mis-matching socks. Too afraid to talk to the people at the store.” He sits down on the bed, a frown growing on his face. “Kind of ugly… laugh.” The paper starts to shake in his hands. “Sort of – a – crybaby.”

Jeno tries to fling the paper on the floor, but it just wafts slowly down. His chest is rising and falling fast. He scrubs his eyes furiously. 

“Hey! Don’t be mad!” you say, sitting next to him. “You wrote a list about me too. Oh, Jeno, please don’t be upset.”

Jeno glares at you, his eyes red. “I’m not upset. Because that would make me a huge crybaby, and you hate that.”

He storms out of the room. 

You scramble to the floor and pick up Jeno’s list, on its yellow Post-it. You read what is written on it. 

You sink slowly to the floor. You feel like a horrible person. You wish you had never been born. You finally found a good guy, and you stamped on his heart like it was nothing. 

List of things wrong with Y/n:

Nothing 

You’re perfect 

---

You are crouched outside the bathroom door. Jeno has been in there for an hour. 

“Jeno, honey, please talk to me,” you say. 

“Get out!” Jeno yells. 

“You didn’t read the end of the list!” you say. “It says – none of this matters, because you’re the kindest, most passionate, most caring man I’ve ever met.”

You hear the lock clicking, and jump to your feet. 

Jeno opens the door, just a crack. “You don’t get it, do you?” His stare is ice-cold. “All my life, I was told that I wasn’t tough enough, brave enough, man enough. Until I met you, and you told me I was enough.” He shakes his head. “But you were lying.”  

He closes the door in your face. Through the door, you hear him say, “You know what hurts? The fact that I truly thought you were perfect. I was wrong. You’re mean, Y/n.”  

---

For the next two weeks, you spend every day reminding Jeno all the reasons that you love him - but he still gives you the silent treatment. 

One day, when you and Jeno are eating dinner in silence, Jeno slapped a piece of paper onto the table.

“What is that?” you say. 

“It’s my list.” Jeno says. “For you.” He picks it up and reads aloud. “Wears too much makeup. Judgemental. Mean. Can never take responsibility in arguments…”

Each word feels like a slap in the face. You thought that Jeno was too sweet to notice any of that stuff, but you were wrong. 

You clasp his hand, as tears start to fall. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I’m gonna treat you better, I promise.”

Jeno frowns. “Wait. You’re not… mad?”

You shake your head. 

Jeno’s eyebrows rise. “You’re not gonna deny it? Or fight back?”

You shake your head. “No. These past few weeks, I’ve realised that I – I don’t like looking at who I really am. Because who I am is… ugly. But I’m gonna change.”

Jeno clasps both your hands in his. “Oh, Y/n.” 

He comes round the table and pulls you into a tight, warm hug. You have been craving his touch for so long that that hug restores you to life. 

“I love you, you stupid idiot,” Jeno says. 

“I love you, too,” you squeak.

“Now who’s the crybaby?” Jeno says, chuckling. 

You laugh through your tears. “Shut up.” 

Jeno’s smile is warm, all signs of anger completely gone. But you have a niggling feeling you can't quite shake. 

“Do you really think I wear too much make up?” you ask, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. 

Jeno scratches his head. “Maybe… I dunno, I think I was just lashing out.” 

You stay silent. 

“Y/n, I think you’re gorgeous, inside and out. Smoking hot. Ten out of ten. Definitely would bang.” 

You snort. 

Jeno smiles, eyes crinkling. “I’m sorry, baby. I hate it when we fight.” 

You bury your head in Jeno’s neck, touching your lips against his soft skin. You can feel his soft sighs against your ear. Heaven. 

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[lov1ngreid]

BOYS LIKE YOU | 1

(pairings): highschool!spencer + cheerleader!reader both intended to be 18 in this story

(warnings): none!

(word count): 2.9k

(author’s note): so long i’m so sorry

hii i decided to split this fic into a mini series cause i have so many ideas and directions for it and i didn’t want to squish it into one long fic, some chapters maybe nsfw ;P i also wrote this with high school in mind, of course Spencer is regular high school age and not like twelve 🤨 but if you’d rather picture them in early college go ahead! also I usually HATEEE when fics have outfit inspos but soz I’m forcing you to imagine these outfits they’re so gorg 😭

okay no more rambling!! if u wanna listen to what i did when i wrote this, here you go!! ➘

“That’s what you’re wearing” Your brother brodie snickered from his bedroom as you strolled past it on the way to the bathroom, usually you wouldn’t have given in to his snide comments, which you were no stranger to. But it was thanksgiving if your brother thought your outfit was ugly, chances are, so would the rest of your family.

Your outfit always happened to be a topic of conversation.

Your movements halt when you finally process what he had said, before slowly taking a few steps backwards meeting his taunting face while he sat on the edge of the bed “What’s wrong with it?” You cock your head feeling the embarrassment trickle through your face up to your ears, usually you wouldn’t care what comments Brodie decided to make about your outfit, but a lot of people were going to be seeing this one.

Honestly you thought it was pretty tame considering the only revealing piece was your skirt, which frankly wasn’t that short, and you thought you had compensated with your boots.

“Why are you wearing… boots?” He laughed looking down at your outfit with furrowed eyebrows before looking back up at your flustered face “and why are they red?”

You scoffed, embarrassment completely diminishing when you find out that was his problem with your outfit “they’re maroon… and you’re wearing a doctor who shirt, don’t think you’re in any position to be judging me” you glare back at him uncrossing your arms.

Honestly, he has absolutely no right to be making fun of your outfit, despite being twins, you were the complete opposites. His outfits usually consist of different coloured converse and some sort of comic book shirt, yours consisting of literally anything else.

“I have a party afterwards anyways, I don’t have time to get changed”

“You have a party on thanksgiving?… who has a party on thanksgiving” Brodie scoffs finishing the lace on his second converse

“A lot of people” you smile sarcastically backing from his door frame to continue your task before you were rudely interrupted “not that you would know” you mumble under your breath before leaving his bedroom.

A little satisfied smile crept upon your face when you heard Brodie’s faint ‘hey!’ Emitting from his bedroom.

You knew your mother would be absolutely furious knowing you had intentions on leaving thanksgiving early to attend a party, which was exactly why you had no plans on telling her. Your family was big enough as is, and considering you had shared thanksgiving with the Reid family for 12 years and counting, with both combined there had to be one, or many pockets for you to escape unnoticed.

The car ride to the Reid family home always seemed so short, always feeling so much longer when you were riding there on bikes, or walking there after school.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had even used your bike, it had to be collecting dust in your garage by now, you truly don’t think you had used it since starting highschool, despite your brother’s efforts to get you to ride to Spencer's house with him, each time you declined, something always more important popping up.

The familiar smell of the house flooded your nose while you took a step in, it always smelt like chai and vanilla, and it always looked like fall threw up on it, decorated with faux autumn leaves and pumpkins all year round, they always just added Santa hats to the pumpkins in December, you knew that was Spencer’s doing.

The wind was almost taken from you while Diana embraced you in the biggest hug, almost knocking over the cupcakes from the tray you were holding, giggling a little you returned the hug one handed of course. She always smelt like the house times ten, the vanilla smell becoming so much stronger the closer you were to her, pulling back she embraced your face in her warm slender hands brushing your cheeks softly with the pad of her thumb.

“You look so beautiful” she smiles, your face turning pink at her compliment, she did this every year. Every year she hugs you, looks like she’s about to cry and then goes on about how beautiful you look for the rest of the night, and every year it makes you feel a little more guilty about not coming around as much.

Both your parents embrace Diana and William before they usher you to the beautifully set dinner table, where the rest of his and your family awaited your arrival, both yours and his grandparents chatting away at the kitchen bench about some sort of football nonsense.

Always in awe of Diana’s meals, you debated on changing your mind and slipping out after dinner instead, not wanting to miss out on her carefully cooked Turkey.

Despite getting swept away in greeting the rest of your family, as well as the rest of the Reid’s, it didn’t take you long to notice one missing Reid.

Regardless of your efforts to talk to Spencer, he never really seemed that interested in befriending you after middle school, every time you tried to talk to him in class he always went quiet and dismissive, or snapped mean answers back at you, and you simply took the hint.

Spencer saw the way your friends snickered to themselves when you tried to speak to him, the way they’d whisper when he walked past, even though you’d smile and wave, he always saw them laugh behind you. He knew deep down it wasn’t your fault, but he couldn’t help but blame you when you never actually stopped any of your friends from making snide comments at him or his friends.

Excusing yourself from your family, you hopped up the stairs, muscle memory walking you towards Spencer’s room before you mind had caught up,

Reading the large ‘S R’ sticker on the bedroom door, you chuckle to yourself a little, staring at the crooked R knowing it was like that cause you couldn’t reach it to meet the S in the fourth grade, Spencer had refused to help you, cackling as he watched you on your tippy toes while you begged him to stop laughing.

Before your mind could even process anything, you brought your arm up to knock on his door, swallowing nervously.

You weren’t even sure why you were nervous, he just seemed to shut down any attempt at being friends and you never knew why. He got along with Brodie just fine, they were honestly really close, they hung out at school everyday and studied together after school on Wednesdays and Fridays, it just seemed like your invitation stopped one day.

The door swung open while your mind had still been dissociated thinking about all the attempts you made to talk to him, snapping you from your brain fog, Spencer stood at the door almost equally as confused as you, honestly you didn’t know why you were there, and as smart as he was, he didn’t know either.

“I brought you a cupcake” you chuckle pushing the baked good towards him with your right hand, eyebrows furrowed he takes a look at the seemingly vanilla cupcake in your hand before looking back up at your eyes.

“I don’t like cupcakes” Spencer shakes his head quickly while his hand grips harder on his door handle, debates in his mind about closing it on you.

“Yes you do” Cocking your head you stare at Spencer confused, he loved cupcakes, he also loved your cupcakes “I literally saw you eating one in the library the other day” you scoff at his obvious lie.

“And why were you in the library” he raises both his eyebrows, glancing back down at the pretty cupcake you had offered him, which he began to quickly regret declining, because he really did love your cupcakes.

“Reading?” You conceded pulling your arm holding the cupcake back “are you implying I don’t read Spencer Reid?” This was the most he had talked to you in months, you never realized you could miss a person's voice despite them being alive and well.

“If the boot fits” he shrugs leaning on his door, the grip on his door handle loosening a little, you stare a little taken back, he doesn’t talk to you for years, and then all of a sudden on thanksgiving he decides he’s going to spit back sassy little comments at you?

“Can you just take the cupcake?.. it’s pumpkin spice” you admitted pushing the sweet back in his direction, a little part of Spencer’s facade broke down, almost giving into the cupcake “I even made the little pumpkin out of fondant… it took forever” you whisper the last part almost talking to yourself.

He tried his hardest to stay strong but you had just about broken him down at this point, with a displeased groan rolling his eyes he reached out to snatch the cupcake from your soft hand, earning a small smile to form on your lips.

It only took him seconds to dig into the treat before a soft chuckle escaped your lips “can I come in?” You smile glancing behind him into his room, it looked almost exactly the same as it did when you were fourteen, posters in the same place, no furniture was rearranged, you even spotted the mini dalek figurine you had bought him on his top shelf.

Hesitantly Spencer nods stepping away from the door frame to welcome you in, his room was always kept neat, sheets tucked perfectly under his mattress, and books always in the correct spot. His weakness, however, was the countless amount of school work pages spread across his desk.

Taking a seat at his desk your eyes still gaze around his room, feeling like a blast from the past, all the books you read, series reruns you watched and stories you wrote coming back to you in a wave of memories.

“So…” he mumbled, mouth still half full with your cupcake before sitting down on the edge of his bed “do you need science homework?” Shrugging boring his eyes back into yours.

You scoff, frankly offended he would even ask you such a thing “no?.. Spencer, you and I have almost the same science grades." You'd be lying if you said you’ve never thought of asking Spencer for homework, especially on nights where cheer practice ran late and you didn’t have nearly enough time to finish, but you’ve never actually asked.

“Yeah almost” scoffing while he brushes his hands against each other wiping the crumbs of the cupcake away, you sat there stunned a little, he knew you’d never ask him considering your friendship… situation, you wouldn’t use him.

You felt the rage boiling in you for a little at his attitude towards you, considering you had done absolutely nothing for him to be mad at you for, sure you weren’t in the same friend group, but he would know more than anyone the statistics of middle school friends drifting apart in highschool, you swivel his desk chair to face his desk, frustrated palming your face with your hands dragging them down a little.

You allow your eyes to rake across his messy paper filled desk before they’re drawn to one page in particular, written in pink pen on beige lined paper, quickly snatching it from the pile you let your eyes scan over it a little before letting out an unexpected laugh.

Catching Spencer’s attention his eyes had almost bulged out of his head once he realized what piece of paper you had in your hands.

“Dear Spencer…” you start reading aloud ignoring Spencer’s loud attempts to make you put it down “I’ve thoroughly enjoyed our conversations and wanted to let you know-”

“Put it down please” he groans, reaching forwards to grab it from your hands, only for you to snatch it towards you standing up from his desk chair.

“-That I’ve liked you for a while now- Sadie Keller!” You gasp grinning up at Spencer while he makes every attempt to steal the paper back from your grip “you never told me you liked Sadie Keller!” you playfully smack him with the piece of notebook paper before letting him grab it from your grasp.

“I don’t really tell you anything” Spencer crumpled up the paper before tossing it back onto his desk, you face fell a little at his words, only because he was right, he didn’t really tell you anything at all, because he didn’t ever talk to you, because you weren’t really friends.

You almost could’ve sworn you felt a lightbulb click on above your head while you watched Spencer scurry his papers together to make a neat pile “come to a party with me” you rush causing his movements to halt slowly turning his head to meet your gaze.

“Why on earth would I do that… it’s thanksgiving” he reasoned, confusion painted across his face. He simply could not fathom why you would want to take him to a party, he also couldn’t fathom why he was considering it.

“God” you groaned, moving to take a seat on his bed now “people have got to get over that” rolling your eyes you pat down your skirt a little before continuing your attempt to read his face for clues on what was going on inside his head.

“Why would you want to be seen at a party with me?” He queried, attitude dripping from his sentence, watching as your face dropped and your brows furrowed coloured him confused, why would you want to be seen with him?

“Sadie will be there… and I can’t see a potential love story and not indulge” you snicker, almost dismissing his question, you thought you’d spare a sentimental conversation about how much you missed him and instead go an easier route, you wanted him to come for his benefit.

To your surprise, he looks as if he considers it for a while, it was the first time you actually took in what he was wearing, a fitted doctor who shirt and gray sweatpants, the same exact doctor who shirt your brother has on, you cringed a little at the thought that they had coordinated that.

“Fine” he says after a while of silence, you simply cannot help the grin creeping up on your face “but only because of Sadie, and not because of you” he rushes again, almost sounding like something he was trying to convince himself rather than you.

Holding your hands up in defense you smile at his surprising compliance “how are we even supposed to leave without anyone noticing?” Beginning to worry that both your families were beginning to wonder where both of you had gone.

In all seriousness, your family actually had not noticed that the both of you were up in Spencer’s room, and were much more occupied by the game of football they all huddled around to watch.

“Follow me genius”

go to PART TWO

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[ok8oriska]

you show me yours, i'll show you mine

remus lupin x scarred!reader | reader wears makeup

When you meet Remus for the first time, you start to rethink everything you had ever thought about yourself. There are a few truths you believe to be self-evident. First, you did not fit into the society-accepted standard of beauty. You felt ugly on the best days and horribly and utterly disfigured on the worst. Second, because of this, no one would ever love you. A truly terrible misfortune granted to you by accidental circumstance.

Remus is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, which is funny because he is covered in scars, too. Where yours are volcanic red, scattered across your face and neck like shattered glass, his are slivers of pure starlight, stitches of silver skin holding, creating a kintsugi masterpiece. He takes your breath away.

Your scars aren’t the most visible, hidden by layers of thick makeup that you wear like armor. You’ve avoided sleepovers as a rule since your accident, never allowing anyone behind the mask. But now, after weeks of courting and months of dating, Remus is in your flat, intending to stay the night.

You’re antsy and borderline a nervous wreck. What if he doesn’t like you? The real you. What if he takes one look and heads for the hills? Then he’s a hypocrite, you decide. You know him not to be. The Remus you know, kind, gentle, loving, could look past something like your scars right? He wouldn’t let them come between the two of you? You hope, you beg, you plead.

Said Remus exits the bathroom, dressed in his sleep clothes, to find you gnawing your lip on the couch, deep in thought.

“You alright?” He asks, kneeling in front of you. Your eyes don’t meet his, instead, they stare off into a distance. You nod, despite this and he doesn’t believe you for a second.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh. Closing your eyes and opening them to bore into his soul. “You might not like me anymore.”

“What? Whatever for?”

“I’m going to take my makeup off and you might not like me anymore.”

He nods. “There are very few things you could do that would make me stop liking you. I doubt baring your face is on the list.”

You stand and head to the bathroom. Heart in your stomach. The process of getting unready is one that you dread. Facing yourself after a long day of hiding away. They’re just scars, you tell yourself. He has them, too. But Remus hates his scars, so won’t he hate yours? The thought makes you nauseous.

You exit the bathroom and find him in your room. For a moment, you just stare at each other. You duck your head to avoid the weight of it all.

“Here I am,” you say, fidgety.

“Beautiful as ever,” he stands, moving to hold your biceps in his hands. “Why were you so afraid, dove?”

You look up at him. “You hate your scars; why wouldn’t you hate mine, too?”

He winces, and one hand moves to rub at the back of his neck. “That is, unfortunately, a logical conclusion.”

You give him a look. See? I told you so. A look that normally would melt him, but instead, now he feels incredibly guilty.

A sigh escapes you. “Maybe we both need to work on being kinder to ourselves,” you chide a slight smile playing on your lips.

A crooked grin makes its way across his. “Maybe.”

“Will you kiss me now?”

“Of course.”

And he does.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can i please have shang tsung(mk1) when he was just a salesman, meeting reader(a kind village person) and them helping him with his wounds everytime he gets beat up and they actually show him that not everyone is mean? :> It can be a fic or just hcs, i just need shang tsung content :<

Does this contain dramatic ooc Shang Tsung? Yes. When I see him, all I see is the cat being held at knifepoint…also this is unnecessarily long.

You knew you shouldn’t spare Shang Tsung any ounce of sympathy nor remorse for his faulty practices and causing loss and suffering to spread evermore throughout your village then needed. But that didn’t mean you condom the call to violence from your fellow villagers, most of whom had grown tired of allowing themselves to become deluded to Shang Tsung’s lies, whilst others just wanted an plausible excuse to get their hands on the salesman for the longest time now and had finally found their excuse.

They all had valid reasons to return the harm Shang Tsung had put upon everyone tenfold but an entire village against one man wasn’t exactly the fairest of odds. Then again if you were to being this up to anyone and they would retaliate by saying that their current circumstances weren’t fair either, before going on a tangent of how Shang Tsung took advantage of a vulnerable backwater village that would firmly believe that pigs could fly.

And yet despite all that, you could never bring yourself to inflict physical harm on him, if anything you refrained from anything in relation to violence almost entirely; So when the mob of villagers went to gang up on the salesman, you would make sure that you were far away from it as possible not matter how well deserved it maybe…you didn’t want to bear witness to it nor encourage such ugly behaviour that every being in existence seemed to be cursed with.

Upon returning however, you were always met with a pitiful sight of Shang Tsung looking worse for wear with his injuries and disheveled and torn clothes. It tugged at your heart to help him, show him an ounce of kindness in a village filled with people unsatisfied with him still living. You wondered how much of a difference would it make for them had Shang Tsung did pass away, for you truly believed that harming him wouldn’t make the dead come back to life, it wouldn’t bring the sick and injured back to full health; nothing would undo what already had been predestined to occur.

However Shang Tsung was made aware of you presence almost instantly, you weren’t apart of the mob that come to beat him on a daily basis, he would know as those same angry faces were deeply engraved within his mind that he could tell when something amongst them was amiss and yours certainly didn’t strike familiarity within him; but that didn’t mean he was about to be seen looking weak and pathetic in front of an unfamiliar face.

‘If it is revenge you want,’ Shang Tsung began bitterly, ‘have at it. If it is restitution, there is nothing left.’

‘Oh, that’s not why I’m here-‘ you began.

‘I know, or else you would’ve been with that bloodthirsty mob earlier.’ Shang Tsung interrupts with a scoff, looking you in the eyes now. ‘So pray tell why are you even here? To brutalise me emotionally or mentally?’ He then questions before shrugging his shoulders and looking down to pick at the dirt beneath his nails. ‘Hate to be the bearer of bad news but I’m pretty sure your friends had that covered.’

‘If you would just shut it for a minute and let me speak then maybe you would know that I’m here to help you with your wounds.’ You said, not wanting to stand out in the pouring rain all night, listening to him go on a tangent about your backwater village as if you didn’t already know, your the one who lives here your entire life with no promise of a better one anywhere in sight!

Shang Tsung’s brows raised in surprise. Help? You’re willing enough to help him, despite everything he’s done? Now why was that simple sentence the most oddest thing he’s ever heard in his entire life. Was this a trick? A trap? Even as he’s looking into your eyes, Shang Tsung wasn’t quite sure what your motive in all this was.

Your eyes were so kind, genuine and honest that even if you were lying, you’d think he would have known better than to trust a beautiful liar. Not that he would admit to any of this, he had a reputation to uphold.

‘What’s in it for me?’ He asks, leaning forward.

‘You wounds won’t be susceptible to infection?’ You said. ‘I don’t have much else to give other then medical aid so…’ you trailed off as the sound of rain took to filling in the silence. Shang Tsung was silent for a while and you were bringing to feel stupid, you even began to regret offering him help and were about to call it a night, when Shang Tsung said something so quietly that you couldn’t quite hear it over the rain.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t catch that.’

‘I said fine.’ Shang Tsung said with a hint of irritation of having to repeat himself. ‘but don’t think anything of this, you are to patch my wounds as per your insistence. Nothing more, nothing less.’

After making a deal with seemingly the devil, you went ahead and lead him back to your place to heal him of his wounds and seeing him off, thinking it to be a one time only thing, before anyone got suspicious of your involvement with the man who had caused them so much grief and misery.

Unfortunately you were proven wrong as it seemed that either every time you healed Shang Tsung of his wounds, the next set he would obtain were objectively worse than the ones before and naturally, you began to worry that the villagers were taking it too far this time.

‘Oh my gods.’ You said from behind your hands upon seeing the state that the village had left Shang Tsung in this time, it almost brings you to tears. He looked utterly terrible and had an hard time trying to move from the doorway without wincing, allowing for a cold draft to sweep inside and bringing rain along with it.

‘Nice to know that I still leave you speechless.’ Shang Tsung teased but the smirk upon his lips was easily wiped off his face as it contorted in discomfort and his eyes clenched shut, he grit teeth to hold back a pained grunt. The villagers defiantly bruised something, how troublesome.

‘As much as I know that you love hearing the sound of your own voice, but I’m going to need you to stop unless you want to get even worse.’ You replied, already working on getting him sat down comfortably on the chair you had pulled from another room along with your medical equipment. Spending time with Shang Tsung would’ve drove anyone into a fit of rage either way how arrogant and pompous he sounded, but if anything you’ve gradually picked up some of his sass whilst patching up his wounds.

So whether he tried anything, you were able to throw it back at him, to which he would always reply with; ‘you dare to kick a man while he’s down my dear healer?’ Whilst his eyes shone mischievously.

‘If that man is anything like you then I’m sure he’ll survive.’ You responded back in kind, yet all the while keeping a gentle and steady hand when stitching his deeper cuts and gashes before coving them up. ‘Like a cockroach.’ You heard him sharply inhale and looked at him, worried that you might’ve pressed down too hard on one of his wounds and were about to ask, only to see him looking away from you with his nose up in the air; even when he’s injured Shang Tsung never fails to find the opportunity to be dramatic.

‘You did not just compare me to those vile things.’ He spat.

‘You say that now but cockroaches are notoriously impossible to kill.’ You said absentmindedly, having calmed down upon realising that he wasn’t in any sort pain that you didn’t noticed the sigh of relief that you had let out, not until Shang Tsung made a comment on it.

‘Were you worried about me, dear healer?’ He’d ask, seeing an opening to use to his advantage.

‘I thought I might’ve pressed too hard on one of your wounds or reopened them somehow.’ you shot him a small genuine smile. ‘I’ve never been more glad in being wrong. I don’t like seeing you hurt, not to this extent, it’s not like the villagers will gain anything from it.’ You didn’t think much when Shang Tsung remained uncharacteristically silent throughout the rest of the treatment, staring ahead at nothing, he didn’t say anything until he was about to leave where he flashed you a forced smile. ‘Thank you for healing me.’ Was all he said but it was enough to leave you stunned.

Shang Tsung was never one to thank you after healing him, ever, so much so that hearing him say that made you think that something within him had changed, but you weren’t the type to charge into a burning house just because you tricked yourself into seeing something; you were kind but to that degree.

Meanwhile Shang Tsung was mulling over your words in his head. Out of an entire village hellbent on seeing him dead, you were the only one to show him an ounce of kindness despite everything. At first he thought you were unaware of who he was and what he has done to your entire village but when he found out that you were aware, it made all your interactions with him up till now all the more questionable.

He didn’t understand what you think you’d get from being kind to him nor understood your motive, not even your intentions. Yet the more he came to you for healing, he gradually stopped being speculative and started believing that this was just who you were as an individual, it wasn’t a persona you put on for fun. You held a genuine sense of self that not many could claim to have, not even himself. He doesn’t like being vulnerable but he has found that he could do so fluidly when within your presence, sure it took awhile but in the end Shang Tsung knew that it was near impossible for him to be redeemed, he had hurt too many and push many more past breaking point.

Your kindness may have been a reprieve for him but it could never erase the blood off of his hands that will sooner or later taint you.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hater Boyfriend

Summary: Her boyfriend is a certified hater

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 989

Warnings: kenji being a sassy lady but also protective boyfie and we love to see itttt 💅

A/n: dedicated to @cassie6392 cus shes like the biggest kenji lover i know and shes adorable and i love her sm and and and-

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Could this day get any worse?

Y/n sighed, rubbing her eyes before bending down to pick up the broken shells of the egg that had slipped from her hand.

At least she was home now. Maybe she could lay back in bed and watch some tv series on her laptop. Or maybe she’ll just go to sleep. Maybe even talk to some of her friends. Just anything to get her mind off of her coworker and her mean words.

Maybe I should just order in.

But then, what if they messed up her order? It would truly be the cherry on top and maybe even the last straw for her.

As she finished washing her hands after cleaning the egg, the doorbell rang. It was almost ten. Who could it be? As far as she remembered, she had not ordered anything.

Curious, she peeked out at the visitor, her mood instantly lifting when she spied the grinning face of her boyfriend of six months.

"Hello sweetheart." He muttered as soon as Y/n opened the door, stepping forward to envelop her in a warm hug. Despite the weather turning colder, the thick jacket and his body heat made up for the chill in the air.

"Hey Ken."

He manoeuvred her back into her apartment, kicking the door shut behind him without breaking the embrace, letting her bury her face in his chest without complaint.

"How was your day, my love?"

She sighed, pulling back slightly to pout up at him. "Don’t ask. It was so bad."

His brows furrowed, concern shining in his eyes. "Why so?"

"Everything went so bad today. First I dropped my water bottle on my leg. It still hurts. Then I found out my coworker -you remember Emily?- shit talked me behind my back. If that wasn’t enough, there was so much traffic on the way home and then I dropped an egg."

Amusement warred with anger in his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. "I’m so sorry, love. Is there any way I can make your day better?"

Y/n pulled away completely, about to say no when her gaze went to the couch. "You could cuddle me to sleep." She suggested with a small smile shot in his direction, causing him to chuckle.

"Let’s order some chinese food and watch a movie, and then we can cuddle. How does that sound?"

Y/n giggled. "Perfect."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

After Kenji had cuddled Y/n to sleep, she had woken up with a smile on her face to find a post it note on her bedside table.

‘I had something come up. I made breakfast for you, it’s in the oven. Be ready tonight, I’m taking you out. :)’

Despite her initial disappointment that she didn’t wake up to her boyfriend’s smiling face, the note lifted her spirits. At least she would have something to look forward to the whole day.

Having settled on wearing a formal dress, Y/n hurriedly shoved down her breakfast and left for her office.

She avoided Emily as much as she could, choosing instead to focus her energy on wondering what Kenji would come up with for their dinner date.

Soon enough, the sun was setting as Y/n stalked out of the office building, pausing only when she found Emily standing outside, her eyes fixed on-

Kenji.

Oh hell no. That’s my man.

Before Y/n could do anything though, Kenji spotted her, giving her a breathtaking smile as he jogged up to her, a small bouquet of mixed flowers in his hand.

"Hello darling. How was your day?"

Y/n smiled as he pressed his lips to her temple, feeling someone's gaze on her. She hoped it was Emily. Maybe she was burning with jealousy, who knows.

I hope she is.

"Good enough."

"Did you avoid that bitch who was shit talking you?"

Y/n choked on her spit as her wide eyes flew to Emily’s. "Ken!"

"What? Where is she? Is she still inside? I hope I get to see her so I can tell her to her face how ugly I know she is."

"Kenji!"

He seemed to finally realise that Y/n was actually mortified and not pretending. "What?"

She jerked her chin towards a clearly offended Emily. His gaze turned contemplative as he surveyed her. "Fuck dude, shes worse than I imagined-"

Y/n covered her face with her hand, trying not to laugh out loud as embarrassment covered her cheeks.

My boyfriend is certainly a hater.

"Anyways, sweetheart, I’ve made reservations at your favourite fine dining restaurant. Are you ready to go?"

Y/n nodded, letting Kenji drag her to his car, refusing to meet the accusing gaze of her coworker.

Despite her embarrassment though, there was warmth spreading through Y/n’s chest.

Just as Kenji opened the door for Y/n to sit, he turned to Emily, who continued to glare.

Are her eyes shining? Is she about to cry?

"And you. If I hear one more time that you shit talked my lady here, I swear I will do my best to make your life miserable."

Y/n’s cheeks burned hotter.

"And how will you do that?" Emily snapped, lifting her chin.

Kenji raised his brows. "My friend’s boyfriend, Aaron. You know, the owner of the company you currently work in?"

Her face paled slightly, and then without a word, she walked away, huffing. Kenji watched her go, and Y/n spied pure contempt in his eyes. But then he turned back to Y/n, smiling, as if just a moment ago he wasn’t threatening her coworker.

"I’m starving."

Y/n nodded, settling into the passenger seat without a word before watching Kenji close the door and jog around to the driver’s side. He did not acknowledge what had just happened, and Y/n decided that she did not want to either.

"I’m starving too."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Shatter Me Taglist: @dahliawarner @berryzxx @mrsjna @yucanbmylxdy @lemon-lav @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015

Kenji Kishimoto Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @aaaaaaakenjikishimoto

@serenescureforboredom

[lvndrfucks]

Cole Preston was on his last straw.

When it came to feelings and liking someone, he was usually a reserved person. He didn’t make it too obvious, but tried to make it known that he viewed you more than a friend. It was the little things. He remembered your favorite restaurant, your usual coffee order, why you hated wearing polka dots (it was just ugly, in your opinion.)

A person would think they’d catch onto these signs. Especially when it had been six months now. Six months of him pining after you and you thinking “wow, he’s such a good friend.”

Even after uttering those words, he didn’t give up. Now, Cole was determined to tell you how he truly felt. No matter how frustrating your obliviousness could be.

Dinner had just ended and the group of friends decided to try to find an open ice cream shop. While everyone else was ahead, you were lingering in the back with Cole. You were busy looking around the shops while he was busy looking at you.

At the slightest shiver, he was already removing his jacket.

“Are you cold?”

Before you could protest, his leather jacket was already placed over your shoulders.

You smiled at him. “Thanks.” You pushed your arms through the sleeves, savoring the warmth.

He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, how was your food? Considering you ate half of mine too.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “It’s not my fault your food looked good too. And I liked mine. Ugh, I wish I tried Eva’s spaghetti, though.”

“But doesn’t spaghetti usually make you sick?”

You groaned, leaning into his arm. You didn’t feel him tense at your touch.

“I know, but it’s so good.”

“Well, if you had it, I think you’d be puking your guts out right now.” He chuckled slightly.

“Yeah, you’re right. As usual.” Your nose scrunched up as you smiled at him.

He even knew what food you couldn’t have. If that didn’t scream romance, he didn’t know what did.

Cole suddenly felt chilled as you let go of his arm. He glanced down at your hands swaying at your sides. Maybe if he just…

His fingers twitched the closer he got. Just when he felt the skin of your knuckles touch his, it was ripped away immediately by your gasp.

“I found one!” You pointed across the street at the ice cream shop.

The group let out noises of excitement and quickly ran over. You looked at Cole with a wide smile, grabbing his wrist to catch up. He looked down his arm.

This was close enough, right?

“I’m hopeless.” Cole laid across the couch with his arm over his eyes. “I’m gonna be single forever. And live alone with my one cat. Then, die with no one attending my funeral.”

Dylan and Braedon looked at each other.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic,” Dylan questioned. “Why don’t you just tell her?”

“I’ve tried!”

“Have you actually?”

Cole peeked over with one eye to see them both looking with raised eyebrows. He groaned while sitting up.

“I thought she would’ve caught on by now. We always hang out together, we’ve both slept over at each other’s places, she’s even worn my clothes,” Cole listed.

“Come on, man. We all know she can be a little…blind when it comes to relationships,” Braeden said. “She introduced Eva and I and didn’t know we were dating until the two month mark. You just gotta be upfront about it. What’s holding you back?”

“I’m scared, okay? What if she doesn’t like me back and— and she’s just messing with my feelings? Like it’s all some game to her.”

“Do you really believe that? After knowing her for so long,” Dylan asked.

Cole huffed and leaned back on the couch. “No.”

“Remember during our Ontario show and she brought brownies,” Dylan recalled, making Cole nod. “She made you brownies. She didn’t even give us any.”

“Which I took offense to,” Braeden chimed in.

“Or when you were sick, she didn’t leave your side until you were better. You said she made you soup and cleaned up your apartment. I don’t think she would do that for us.”

A smile appeared on Cole’s face at the memory. “You really think she likes me?”

“She probably doesn’t even realize it,” Dylan said. “If you can’t say out loud how you feel, try writing it.”

That’s exactly what Cole did. He spent the entire night composing the perfect letter that told you exactly how he felt. Now, all he had to do was give it to you. He was debating whether or not to run away afterwards.

Cole called your name from across the park. You turned around and waved, meeting him halfway. You greeted him with a hug, as you always did.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about? And why at the park?” You wondered.

“Just…thought it was a nice day out.” Not because the park was when Cole realized he had feelings for you. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, but there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”

He felt like he was breathing too heavily. His stomach began to churn at the very thought of the letter weighing down his pocket.

“Are you okay? You seen nervous,” you observed.

“What? Me? Nervous? Pfft, no.”

You stared for some time before smiling. “Okay. So, what do you wanna tell me?”

“Right, um…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter. “I—“

The two of you yelped as the sprinklers suddenly went off. It happened so quickly. You both ran towards the sidewalk, but it was no use. You were already drenched from head to toe, as was Cole.

And the letter.

He looked at the paper in disappointment as it began to rip pitifully in his hands.

You laughed lightly. “Well, that was unexpected.” You looked at the paper. “What’s that?”

“It’s um…a song I was working on. I wanted to show you and get your opinion. Kind of pointless now.” He dumped the remains into the nearby trashcan. Along with his dignity.

“Aw, I’m sorry.” You frowned, placing a consoling hand on his shoulder. “How about we dry up at my place and see if we can try to remember any of the song, okay?”

Even in the most glum situations, you still managed to put a smile on Cole’s face.

It was late at night when you texted Cole. He was a little confused to why you asked to come over. You were always welcomed anytime, which was exactly what he told you. What he didn’t expect was to find you in near tears in your best clothing.

“What happened?” He immediately asked while pulling you inside.

The two of you sat on the couch. You wouldn’t make eye contact, but he could see the faint wobble of your lower lip.

“I had a date tonight,” you informed.

“Oh.”

A date…

While he was stuck at home throwing Cheez-Its into his mouth, you were out with someone else.

“Did something happen? Did he do something?” Cole prepared himself for the worst.

“No, he just,” you sighed deeply, wrapping your arms around your stomach, “it was so awkward. We had nothing in common and everything just felt forced. I offered to get food since we didn’t really establish a plan, and he immediately assumed I would pay. Then, he continued to make comments on how it looked like I ‘didn’t eat’ and it just made me uncomfortable. But, apparently to him, the date when great.”

Cole hated seeing you upset. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch.

“I’m sorry your date didn’t go well. If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you go out with him in the first place,” Cole asked.

“I don’t know. My friend set me up. She said I should try dating again.” You sat up straight to look at him. “But it’s just hard. I don’t like throwing myself out there. I like building the relationship first, starting off as friends and getting to know each other. Like us, you know?”

He gulped. “Yeah. Just like us.”

“I don’t know.” You looked down. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not the type of person to love.”

“What? What do you mean?”

You scoffed. “I’m in my mid-twenties and I’ve never been in a stable relationship. All I’ve had were bad flings and failed talking stages. I just want what everyone else around me has. I just want somebody to love me without feeling the need to.” You let your head drop into your hands as you sniffed. “I’m sorry. I’m just talking out of my ass right now.”

Cole could’ve done it right then and there. He could’ve told you that he’s always loved you without feeling forced to. That you came into his life so unexpectedly and now he won’t let you go.

But he couldn’t.

It didn’t seem fair in the state you were in. Right now, what you needed was a friend. That was something he could do.

He rubbed your back gently while calling your name. “You’re gonna find someone one day. Because how could anyone not love someone like you.”

“Someone so emotional?” You teased while wiping your cheeks.

Cole chuckled. “Yes. And stubborn, and hard-headed, and a little bit of anger issues—“

“If I wanted to be insulted, I would’ve gone to Braeden.”

“But,” he paused, “someone is going to love all those sides of you. Not a person you pretend to be just to feel loved.”

You stayed silent at first until a small smile appeared on your face.

“I wish all guys could be as sweet as you.”

Your head fell onto Cole’s shoulder with closed eyes. His jaw clenched as a frown appeared on his face. Why is she looking for different guys to love when he was right in front of her?

Cole had a hard time sleeping that night. He was up early the next day, his leg bouncing up and down while he sat on the living room couch. You were in the other room, fast asleep, in his clothes on his bed.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He was losing his mind. If he wasn’t honest about his feelings for you in the next second, he feared he might explode.

“Good morning.” His head snapped up at your voice. “I thought you left. Made me feel like those one night stands,” you joked.

“I really need to talk to you,” Cole stated.

You stared, a little confused, but took a seat next to him, nevertheless. His hands clenched and unclenched around the fabric of his sweatpants as he struggled to look at you. You sat ever so patiently.

“Are you feeling okay,” you asked. You placed your hand over his, but he quickly ripped it away.

He couldn’t think straight.

“No, I’m not okay, actually.” Cole took a deep breath in, finally making eye contact. “I…I like you.”

…

…

“Well, I like you too, silly.”

Cole face-palmed.

“No, no. I mean, I like-like you. More than friends.”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

“Oh, my God,” he muttered under his breath. “How do I do this?”

He rotated his body to fully face you and took both of your hands in his. There was a surprised look on your face at the warm feeling at his touch.

Cole spoke your name once. “I like you in a way that would involve us being more than friends. And not just best friends. Like…I want to be that person you learn to love.”

At his last word, it was like realization dawned over you.

Oh, Cole.

You looked at the boy in front of you that resembled a lost puppy. The same boy who knew your favorite chocolate was dark, the same boy who binge watched your favorite shows with you, the same boy who gave you flowers on multiple occasions for no reason.

You could see it now. Everything he’s done for you. With you.

He liked you.

And you liked him too.

Cole felt his heart clench as you laughed. He was ready to leave, but your hands didn’t let go of his.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“Somewhere to hide in shame.” There was small annoyance in his tone as he looked away.

“No, Cole,” you chuckled, “I’m sorry I laughed. It’s because I can’t believe I never knew you had feelings for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, very funny.”

“Cole,” you called out gently. This time, he looked at you. “I like-like you too. In a more than best friends way.”

“…Really?”

“Yes, really. And I’m sorry I never saw it before. I guess everything between us felt so natural, I never questioned the fact that how I felt about you was different from everyone else. And I don’t need to learn how to love you. I already do.”

Cole’s cheeks hurt from grinning so hard. “Wow. Saying you love me before the first date.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands away. “Okay, Mr. Hot Shot.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” He pulled you back to his side before you could move away. “I just got you. You can’t get away that easily.”

You laughed, letting yourself ease against his body. Your legs draped over his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist.

“So, now what,” you questioned.

“Now,” he tucked your hair back behind your ear, letting his knuckle graze over your cheek softly, “I take you on a date. Then, a second. Then, a third. Then, maybe, I’ll ask if I can be your boyfriend.”

“Ahh, okay. And maybe, I’ll say yes.”

“How do I make sure that yes is definite?”

You shrugged. “I guess you really have to wow me on these next three dates.”

Cole nodded. “Then, the first one starts now with breakfast.” You shrieked in surprise as he lifted you up from the couch and started walking to the kitchen. “The third date should finish around dinner, right?”

[soppingwetlegs]

MHA HeadCannons x fem reader (AgedUp!MHA guys (early 20’s))

Jealousy jealousy jealousy

************************************************

*********Katsuki Bakugo*********

soooo handsy, the moment he sees literally anyone looking at you he’s grabbing your waist, your ass, your hands, anywhere he can touch.

he will definitely full blown make out with you while making direct eye contact with the person looking at you.

“do you wanna die?!”

“the fuck are you lookin’ at, extra?!”

death glares every person you walk passed to make sure their eyes stay where they should be.

“I will obliterate you with you no hesitation.”

“You know you’re mine, right?” Of course you do, you smile and kiss his cheek.

“I’m gonna make you wear a bag over your head next time we go out.” he’s joking obviously…kinda..

absolutely NO hesitation to blow up on some rando in your Instagram comments. “WHO ARE YOU?! WHY ARE YOU COMMENTING ON MY WOMANS STUFF?! I WILL FIND YOU I PROMISE!!!”

loves to post himself on your social media stories, whether it be pics of him kissing you, holding your hand, his hand on your ass, you sleeping on his chest, etc. he’ll always caption it “just reminding her followers to stay in their fucking place. 💣”

definitely gives toxic vibes but he means well, wouldn’t be bakugo without a smidge of toxicity.

“I love you, woman…but dammit I wish you were ugly sometimes..”

**********Izuku Midoriya*********

honestly it takes a lot to make Deku jealous, he’s very comfortable with people looking at you because he sees it as admiration and takes it as a compliment.

sometimes people push his limits though.

“oh wow, that man has been staring at you for a while.” He’ll say as he moves to block you from the strangers eyes.

“excuse me, sir. you’re staring at my girlfriend, i know she’s beautiful, but I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t do that anymore, please.”

handsy but not too crazy about it, he’ll rest his hand on the small of your back or take your hand in his when he sees too many wandering eyes.

will always stand in front of you if you have to adjust any part of your outfit.

doesn’t hesitate to grab something for you to prevent you from bending over. “oops, no need to give anyone a show, they don’t deserve. I’ve got it, beautiful.”

ensures that the waiter at any restaurant you two eat at talks to him the most, he has no problem ordering for you.

“I feel like he hasn’t said a word to me since we got here. I’m still gonna tip him 20% of course, but I am not happy about it.”

always encourages you to wear his clothes when you go out by yourself. “I’m not jealous! I just think you’d be more comfortable in my shirt is all!”

prefers to stay in on date nights.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’m starting to think it’s a curse.”

**********Eijiro Kirishima*********

genuinely finds humor in his own jealousy.

“what the hell is that guy looking at?”

loves PDA and will sometimes take it a bit too far and piss you off. only for a sec though. “sorry, babe…too much?”

he will absolutely walk over to the person checking you out and talk with them about how hot you are, encouraging them to flirt with you before walking over to you with them and laughing in their face when you tell them he’s your boyfriend.

“HAHAHA dude you totally fell for it! now keep your eyes to yourself, perv.”

love love loves when you wear revealing clothes for a date night just so he can be mean to strangers.

smirks at people checking you out before pulling you into a kiss.

“hey man, MY eyes are up here. got something to say?”

Denki is truly his biggest opp. “Dude I promise I will break every bone in your body if you keep looking at my girl like that.”

will carry you over his shoulder when there’s too many people looking at you. “alright, shows over everyone! let’s get the hell out of here”

“man how did i bag such a babe like you? it’s kinda infuriating.”

*********Denki Kaminari*********

literally doesn’t get jealous. just agrees with everyone that compliments or flirts with you.

“I know dude, she IS so hot.”

will purposely point at your cleavage and give a thumbs up to anyone looking.

everyone tries to mess with him but it just doesn’t work out.

“she’s way too hot for you, sparky.” he laughs “man, tell me about it!”

posts you all over his social media, treats you like an actual prize.

“how did i get so lucky?!😍🔥” “guys look how hot my girl is!!!” “she is unreal”

makes sure everyone looks at you at least once when you wear a dress or anything slightly revealing. “have you guys seen her?! I mean look at that!!”

he’s literally the biggest green flag ever.

loves to shower you with compliments and affection at any given time.

“I’m so lucky you’re mine…”

not jealous of literally anybody…except Shinso. “dude don’t smirk at my girl…”

***these were so fun to do omg. sorry if they don’t seem super accurate but they make so much sense in my mind lmfao***

masterlist

[hanafubukki]

But- Grim flower boy is just so cute idea 😭 It's like, the bride is here with her found family, Lilia is the one to take the groom and the bride to the altar.

Lilia first take his dragon boy, saying his parents would be so proud of the love he found, and that him, has the one who raised him, is so proud to have lived enough time to see this moment. He make the speech like with his causual funny tone, but you can see in his happy smile and in his sparkling eyes that he is about to cry.

After the groom, he runs outside again, and comes back a bit later with the bride. Nobody heard what they told to each other. But be sure Papa bat have the "Take good care of him" talk with his boy's soon-to-be wife.

The groom is speechless facing his wife (have already the title for a long time for him- The wedding is just a way to tell it to the whole world). The bride shine of hapiness. They look at each other like nobody is in the room, and their old schoolmate from NRC are all here for the ceremony.

The wedding start, official speech are told, traditional ritual make...and it's time for the rings !

Here he is. Entering like a prince in a white suit, the cat monster with his fierce look going to the altar with the rings. His whole being tell "Look all at me. It's me who have the rings. I'm the Keeper of the rings !"

He gave the rings, vows are exchanged, bleesings given, the groom kiss the bride. Some are happy and shows it. Some have a little teardrop under their smile. Some tries to keep their pride. Some success. Some other tries, but have an ugly cry. And finally we have the one who just have the ugly cry of hapiness.

And finally, quitting the wedding office, the bride and the groom walks in the aisle under a flower rain (created by Grim. Best boi trains for months to make the surprise -and be sure it doesn't end in a fire).

It was a memorable wedding.

And not only because of Lilia's surprise cake.

-🦋 Anon

Hello 🦋 Anonie,

What if I cry?? What if I just curl up and cry from happiness??? 🦋 Anonie, this is so so cute omg. I am shaking you affectionately. Ahhhhh the need to get this card increased more, but Grim still hasn’t come home 😭

Lilia has found many joys in recent centuries. He hatched Malleus and watched him grow into the fine man he is today. He raised Silver and Sebek as fine young men. He couldn’t be more proud of them all.

Lilia had always wanted to wear a formal suit and he finally had a reason to, at his son’s wedding.

Malleus looked as handsome as ever and Lilia could feel the sting in his eyes, looking at him now.

“Come my boy, let me tie that for you.”

Lilia floated to him, helping him with his tie. Malleus watched Lilia quietly with a smile on his face.

Lilia noticed and teased, “What? Not going to say you are too old for this old man to help you?”

Malleus clasped Lilia’s hands in his, “If I have learned anything, it is that you could never be too old for a parent’s love.”

Lilia felt his tears fall as a smile graced his lips, he hugged Malleus tightly.

“Thank you for loving me.”

Lilia watched as Malleus and YN got married. Grim in particularly vibrating with joy and looking smart in his outfit.

He didn’t blame him; Lilia himself was vibrating from joy.

So many joys in life he experienced, he was truly blessed.

Meleanor and Levan, I hope you’re watching this. Malleus has become a fine young man.

As the bride and groom walked down the aisle, Lilia smiled.

“Fufufu~ I hope they enjoy my special present.”

🦋 Anonie, this was so so cute. Thank you for sending this in 💞💞

(I’m using this as a summoning circle for Grim, please come home.🙏)

[drytacomeat]

𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

My first series begins! It was actually inspired by a random prompt generator. I plan to make it 3 parts, and probably have smut. Sorry the header is ugly kinda. I’ll work on that.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Black! Reader

Synopsis: Steve is suddenly unarmored by Y/n, and he is determined to get her to give him a chance.

3.9k words

You couldn’t say you were one of them yourself, but today you did have ulterior motives. You actually needed to study for the third history exam this week. Your teacher was insane to be quite frank.

Despite that, the library was pretty packed with buzzing and gossiping girls. It was sweet you thought.

They didn’t really think the same about you, that was common knowledge.

You were about the only girl here who did not wear cute skirts and flattering sweaters. There also were not many bigger girls at this school. Layering being black, fat, and not your average styled girl was a recipe for being an outcast.

You tried your best though, and you figured the people that truly mattered around here liked you. You were a good person who did good things. You also gave discounts to any parents who had kids also in high school for your babysitting services.

Some of those parents really needed to be cut some slack, and their kids would come to you for thanks. You’d built quite the reputation, so, no, you weren’t bothered much despite odds being against you in little Hawkins.

You weren’t noticed much either though, at least not until this beautiful Spring day that you decided to sit by the window of the library so you could watch the surroundings.

“Hey, do you work here by any chance?” Steve Harrington asked you with a look of desperation. He completely yanked you out of your own daydream.

You couldn’t help but scrunch your face because what the actual fuck?

“No, I’m a student here…we have been in school together since kindergarten. I’m in the same history class as you,” you shook your head and looked back down to your book. You wished you would have took the extra 2 minutes to look for your Walkman this morning.

“Oh, I‘ve—um—never seen you around here before,” his eyebrows shot up and his lips curled inwards like he was actually trying to think.

“Probably just weren’t looking for me,” you responded lowly.

He just shrugged.

“Well, you’re the only one over here, so maybe you could help me out?” he somewhat smiled.

“Depends on what you need “King Steve”,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t—whatever. Can you just tell me where the history books are?”

You pointed towards the back of the library, and to your luck, he didn’t ask for more. He would have to search more, but by the time he would come back to the table for further instruction, you would be gone.

You quickly grabbed your items and walked away. So much for studying.

As you began to make it near the library exit, you questioned as to how he could just not know you? The school was not big enough for that honestly. You didn’t necessarily stick out aside from the obvious because you were relatively but still.

Now, you were usually never one to go by rumors as you had heard so many about yourself that were just blatant lies, but there were a lot about Steve. Some of those rumors were even proven to be true by one of your closest friends who happened to actually date him, Nancy Wheeler. Still, maybe “King Steve” was just all caught up in his mousse slicked head. Maybe he was just an asshole.

Just as you walked out the double doors, you bumped into dickhead Tommy Hagen and his girl, Carol.

“Watch where you’re going fat-ass,” he spat, and Carol threw her shoulder in such a bitchy way that it made you inwardly cringe.

As usual, you did not respond. You just went on about your day.

•••

Steve had been racking his mind that whole day. How could he not have known you? If you had been in school together since kindergarten, there was no way he just could not know you. You weren’t just the typical Indy girl. No, you dressed differently, and in his opinion, you looked quite different, as well. Not that he saw anything wrong with that.

He had seen your interaction with Tommy and Carol that day and cringed a little himself. You had definitely been a target of the two at least once before then, so that made him really wonder as to how he never noticed you before. Well, he never really noticed any of the people Tommy and Carol bothered because they bothered everybody really.

He tried not to think of it too much really. Him getting his ass handed to him almost every time he fought could be to blame for this memory clog.

It’s just that after that moment, he started to see you everywhere now.

He saw you in the cafeteria, in the school parking lot, at the vending machine, at the water fountains immediately after lunch. He saw you walk into your classes (he could probably wring your schedule out if he tried hard enough now), and he even saw you in the gym after school. He didn’t think you played any sports. Not necessarily because of how you looked, but because other people knew how you looked. There was no doubt you would experience mistreatment, unless you were absolutely perfect at whatever you did.

He had been seeing you so much the past two weeks. He would think you were doing it on purpose, but you seemed to show no interest in him when he asked for help in the library. He also only saw you doing absolutely normal things around school as well and not paying attention to him whatsoever.

Over the time, he started to take notice to your wardrobe. You never wore bright colors. Every color you wore was muted and…dull. You also never wore skirts. Ever. It was spring, and you wore no skirts. What kind of Hawkins girl are you? He figured you accessorized well enough, even though he knew nothing about that sort of thing.

He always found his eyes on you all of a sudden, and he didn’t know why. You were nothing like any girl he was ever involved with.

•••

If he hadn’t agreed to taking this scrunchy little kid to his little middle school dance, he might have gotten over this abrupt infatuation sooner than later.

“Sorry, Steve. I left my bike here earlier because my mom picked me up, and I just don’t want it to get stolen or anything,” Dustin explained as they both pulled into the Wheeler residence.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not too out of the way,” Steve shrugged.

Dustin quickly scrambled out of the car to go after his bike.

As someone made their way out of the front door, he averted his attention from the boy.

It…it was you! What the actual fuck were you doing here? And you had on a dress! It was a little maroon number with black lace trimmings around it. He had never seen any girl wear a dress like that, but then again, he didn’t pay attention to what they were wearing for too long.

You had your hair done up into some sort of braids that he was sure you did not have in earlier, and you had on makeup. Simple look, but makeup nonetheless.

You looked really fucking pretty, and Steve was losing his mind.

Steve’s eyes lingered maybe a little longer than they should have until Dustin jumped back into the car.

“Sorry that took so long. Come on, Steve. You have to floor it because I cannot be late!” Dustin panicked.

Steve nodded and reversed the car, still looking in your direction. Nancy was following behind you now.

No way. Were you friends with Nancy this whole time?

You were absolutely confusing his mind.

He emptied his head as he watched Dustin enter the gym after near drowning himself in cologne.

Steve could not believe that he was here in this moment. Driving a little scraggly kid around and actually enjoying it. He was really starting to grow fond of the little guy. A lot of things in his life was just starting to scramble around.

•••

The day after those kids’ little dance, Dustin was absolutely talking Steve’s ear off.

“—and then this girl danced with me!” Dustin spoke causing Steve to completely zone in.

“What? A girl danced with you, Henderson?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, “I told you man!”

Dustin cheesed widely.

“Yeah, she was-actually you might know her! She’s in high school!” he faced Steve excitedly.

“High school?” Steve now raised his brows more.

“Yes! High school, Steve! She babysits for the Wheeler’s so I kind of know her, but that does not change the fact that I looked like the coolest motherfucker there!” he yelled.

“Hey, watch it,” Steve said, sternly eying the boy. Dustin just sat there staring Steve down for a second before they both burst out laughing.

“Okay, well, there’s a lot of girls in high school, Henderson. What’s she look like?” Steve asked.

“Uhm, probably a few inches shorter than you. She’s…well…she’s black, and she’s just really pretty. She had her hair in these braids and stuff,” he rambled while moving around more before he accidentally spilled his can of soda.

“Aw, fuck, Henderson!” Steve yelled quickly reaching down to grab the can.

“Sorry,” Dustin cowered.

Steve just threw down some napkins he so conveniently had on his dashboard into the mess. He made sure to floor it too.

“Sorry about your car, Steve,” Dustin frowned as they pulled up to his house now, “I get my allowance on Monday! I can help pay for cleaning or something maybe.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes and shooed Dustin sassily.

Dustin hopped out quickly, and Steve was about to drive off until he recalled the conversation he had before this. He wanted to know what high school girl now got the privilege of being the middle school gossip topic for the next week or so.

“Henderson!” he yelled out, “What was the name of that girl that graced you with a little dance?”

“Oh! Uh, Y/n!”

•••

Steve actually scraped his brain that entire weekend. He did not know anyone who went by the name Y/n, but it had sounded familiar.

He felt like his mind was actually leaving him at this point.

•••

That next day at school, Steve had been watching you the whole day, yet again. You were always just around, and nothing was clicking in his poor little mind.

As he noticed you more, he noticed that everyone seemed to know you. You interacted with a huge variety of people. Despite your size, which is something most of the kids here are super petty and judgmental about, no one ever really bothered you, except for Tommy and Carol.

He found that strange.

Speaking of, he sat in the school cafeteria berating Tommy about not eating his meatloaf and how he should’ve gave it to him.

Once he looked away from his tray, he noticed you were standing in front of his table, running a conversation with the cheerleaders. You talked to them effortlessly, and it looked as if you all were friends.

He couldn’t help but berate himself for having the mentality that it’s a shock people treat you kindly.

As he sulked on his poor judgement. Carol stood up and apparently bumped into you. You quickly turned around to apologize as she was turning around as well.

This caused you to drop the vanilla pudding cup in your hand to the floor. Steve’s brows jumped as he inspected the situation.

You were frantically apologizing as Carol was dramatically gasping.

“You bitch!” she yelled and notified the entire cafeteria. Everyone’s attention was on you now, and you were cringing. So was Steve. This wasn’t unusual of Carol. She was a real piece of work.

What was unusual, though, was that Carol raised her hand to you and slapped you right across the face.

Carol was usually all bark, no bite. Steve’s jaw dropped, and Hagen had a big grin on his face. He looked over at his “friend” and scoffed. His eyes went back to you, and you seemed as though you just processed the slap as your hand went up to your cheek. Carol turned back to look at Hagen who was still grinning widely. Almost as if he was…proud of Carol.

You scoffed and reached down to pick the pudding up off of the floor. Steve figured you would just walk away, but you dipped your hand into the pudding. Carol was taken off guard when you smeared your pudding soaked hand across the top of her red hair.

Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile as you flung the pudding from your hand as Carol looked distraught.

His eyes caught yours for a split second. His face ran a little hot, and he quickly looked down. You had quite the balls.

Everybody knew Carol was a piece of shit, but nobody ever did anything about it.

“I’ll kill you, Y/n!” Carol yelled as Tommy came to her aid quickly with a napkin.

You stormed out of the cafeteria as Tommy was trying to help Carol. She was only slapping his hand away and running off in a different direction.

Meanwhile, Steve’s eyes were bulging out of his head. You were Y/n! It was all clicking now, and Steve was cursing himself for being such a dumbass.

You were the girl to dance with Dustin. The girl he could not stop talking about. Hell, after hearing all the great things Dustin said about you, Steve even started to like you a little bit, not even knowing it was you.

Now that he put a name to face, he couldn’t help but like you a little bit more. He knew nothing about you, though.

He would have to change that.

•••

Steve was pulling Henderson up to the Wheeler’s house. They were supposed to be playing their little nerd game that had absolutely too much going on to even possibly be fun. Dustin was bouncing in his seat from excitement.

“And then, they are going to let me be dungeon master this time, Steve! Don’t tell him, but Will is a master hog,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

Steve tried to look interested, he really did.

“Yeah, well, good luck Henderson,” Steve granted him a smile as Dustin was about to hop out of the car.

“Oh! One more thing, can you, uh, ask Nancy where this…Y/n may happen to stay?”

Dustin’s face puzzled before he looked around. Steve had pleading eyes, kind of hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions. He knew how this must’ve sounded.

“Oh! You know Y/n!” he bounced a little, “Man, you’re so cool, Steve.”

Steve only raised his eyebrows at the boy. Dustin nodded and ran on off into the Wheeler house.

Steve was about to back out of the driveway until he saw Nancy’s small frame dashing out of the house. She was walking with such intensity that her hair was rising inches from her shoulders before cascading back down.

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes and sigh. Fucking Henderson.

Steve rolled his window down and tried to put on his best fake smile. He was nervous because he knew Nancy was probably some type of upset.

“Steve! Why are you having a little boy ask me about Y/n?” Nancy said in an accusingly way, even if she wasn’t technically accusing Steve of anything yet.

“I just…I-I needed to ask her something,” he tried to say coolly and shrugged. “I don’t see why it’s, um, any of your business.”

She gave Steve the must incredulous look.

“Steve, c’mon. Seeing as you are my ex and she is my friend, it is very much my business!” she declared.

Steve shrugged nervously. Nancy could only sigh.

“You don’t have a good track record with girls, Steve. If you’re trying to play some game with

Y/n, I promise you that I am not letting that happen,” Nancy shrugged and crossed her arms.

Steve couldn’t help but admire her carefulness.

“Look, I watched her get bitch-slapped by Carol. I wanted to apologize for the situation,” he said after letting out a breath.

“You never have tried to apologize to anybody Hagen and Carol have taunted before, except for Jonathan,” she sighed. Steve couldn’t help but cringe at the name. He was over the situation, but reminders of it still made his heart murmur.

“She also danced with Dustin. He’s like obsessed with her. I just want to do a nice gesture for the girl. You have to believe me,” Steve pressed.

“You don’t know her.”

“Hoping to change that,” he half smiled.

Nancy stared at him intensely, perhaps scanning his face, before her eyes softened.

“Fine, I’ll tell you where she stays, but you have to bring me with you when you decide to go. That’s my rule, and I will not break it,” she uncrossed her arms and pointed at Steve.

He nodded slowly. She turned away and stormed back off into their house.

Steve let out a breath he had not known he was holding. That was fucking intense.

First part! To be honest, I am not sure if this will be correct because I wrote it in another place and transferred it because Tumblr is very hard to write in. Let me know if it looks like there are any gaps and feedback/ requests are welcomed.

[watchandread02]

For the "Holidays with the Winchesters: A very Destiel Advent Calendar" by @archervale and @wormstacheangel

Day twenty one: Party

Ao3

“I think you’ll have to explain this one to me again.” Cas says as they are getting ready for bed, before the big day tomorrow.

“Well it will mostly be just like any other party. Everyone’s just going to wear an ugly sweater.” Dean explains as they both get into bed. Dean immediately cuddles closer to Cas.

Dean can feel Cas’ head tilt even in the darkness, “and why can’t I know what exactly you’re wearing until we actually have the party?”

“Because it’s just funnier when no one knows what you’re wearing. And we’re even going to hold a silly little competition. Though I think it will be rigged, anyway. I don't think any one of us could ever resist Jack’s cute little face.” Dean says, thinking back to the sweater they had gotten Jack for tomorrow.

They had gone out last week and gotten Jack a sweater that read ‘too cute to wear an ugly sweater’. And well Jack definitely looked way too cute in it. They had split up when they bought their own sweaters, Dean wanting it to be a surprise.

“That is very true. Goodnight Dean.” Cas whispers between them.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” Dean whispers back as he gives Cas one last peck on the lips, before settling into bed.

—

Since this was the first party they would be hosting at their new home, Dean might be freaking out. Just a tiny bit, okay maybe a lot. But who could blame him, he wanted everything to be perfect for their first real Christmas Party, in their own home. Jack was in the living room, playing, while waiting for the first guests to arrive. And Dean was in the kitchen making sure everything was ready.

“Cas, are you ready yet? The guest will start arriving soon!” Dean yells up the stairs.

“Yes! I’m coming down now!” Cas shouts back, as Dean starts hearing footsteps coming down the hall and then down the stairs.

It takes a moment for Dean to realise what Cas is wearing. A mirror is woven into the fabric of Cas’ sweater. And once Dean understands why, he bursts out laughing.

“Oh, honey. You picked a good one. If it wasn’t for Jack, I’m sure you would be a hot contender for winning the contest.” Dean says, when he’s finally got his laughter under control.

“Thank you, Dean. Well I like yours as well.” Cas says as he pulls Dean close.

Dean’s sweater reads: ‘I like them real, thick and sprucey.’

Dean chuckles lightly, resting his forehead against Cas’ “of course you would like that one.”

They are broken out of their little bubble by the doorbell ringing. Jack is already running towards the front door excitedly.

“Ready to do this?” Dean asks, as they reluctantly separate from each other.

“With you by my side? Always.” Cas answers as he takes Dean’s hand and pulls him towards the front door, where Jack is already greeting Sam and Eileen animatedly.

The night goes off without a hitch. Everyone laughs about the ugly sweaters the others are wearing, though Cas’ gets the most by far. Dean does get a bitchface from his brother for his choice, but Dean doesn’t really care about that.

When they finally announce the winner of the competition, it’s to no one's surprise. Jack really does look very adorable in his sweater.

Dean catches Cas sneaking off into the kitchen, so Dean follows him as unobtrusively as he possibly can. As he gets there he sees Cas pour himself a glass of wine. Dean slides up next to him and bums into his shoulder.

“This competition is definitely rigged.” Cas mumbles into his drink, though Dean can see the smile he’s trying to hide behind the glass. Both of them could never be truly mad at Jack.

Dean leans into Cas’ side “yeah, well I still think you have the best sweater out of all of us.”

“You have to say that because you’re married to me.” Cas says sourly.

“If I remember correctly, everyone laughed when they saw your sweater. I think that’s a pretty good indicator.” Dean tells Cas.

He pulls Cas into a quick hug, before pressing a kiss on his cheek. Finally Dean reaches for Cas’ hand and starts pulling him towards the others.

“Come on, enough sulking. Let’s rejoin the others. This is our party, so we should enjoy it.”

[lesbianp1lled]

I was a hardcore TRA for years, I even identified as genderfluid and transmasc for a short while. I absentmindedly parroted the whole “transwomen are women” BS without even really giving it any thought.

I would tell myself I had to be attracted to TW or I was a dirty transphobe who deserved to die or whatever. But when I really started thinking about it, I couldn’t get over the disgust I felt at the fact that if I were to ever be with a TW s(he) would have a penis. I tried to tell myself that it was fine and I could get over it but it bothered me so much. I would always think, “You know, I’d much rather be with a woman who’s always been a woman... When I imagine myself with a woman she always has a vagina and thinking about her having a penis makes me incredibly uncomfortable... Even when I think about a post-op TW I’m still disgusted because she didn’t always have a vagina...” but I would push those away as transphobic thoughts I had to work on and just kept saying “transwomen are women.”

I think this is a pretty common experience for young lesbians who were sucked into the TRA crowd. We were told that we were welcome in the LGBTQIA+ community and we were so happy because there was nowhere else we really belonged. So we believed them when they told us we had to include everyone or we would be just as bad as the homophobes. We let these trannies and kweers into our community and tried to force ourselves to be okay with them telling us that we HAD to be attracted to them because their magical gender identity trumped biological reality. And that you were just an ugly mean dyke if you didn’t want to have sex with a male who said he was a woman. And we were so terrified of being ostracized from the only community we’ve ever felt apart of that we accepted it without truly thinking about it.

But we end up peaking once we start giving it some thought. Because as female homosexuals, we simply cannot be attracted to males regardless of how they identify, or what clothes they wear, or whatever hormones or surgeries they get. It’s just impossible. And that’s certainly what peaked me.

I think it’s traumatizing growing up in a world like this as a young lesbian/gay man. Both sides are against you, but one of them is trying to pretend like they’re your ally. However, now that I’m out of the TRA crowd, I feel so much more free. My gender dysphoria has all but disappeared. I don’t have to worry about saying the “wrong” thing (aka just expressing my homosexuality) to one of my kweer friends and getting myself ostracized from my friend group. I am actually proud to say that I am a lesbian—a female homosexual. Where as before, I was ashamed, because being a female homosexual to those freaks is being a transphobic genital fetishist.

I hope every lesbian and gay man who is still trapped in the TRA community eventually finds a way out, because it is so much easier to breathe here on the outside.

I think this is a common thing actual lesbians and gay men go through. I also grieved the feeling of feeling left out of mainstream ��LGBT’ spaces because I thought as a lesbian we’d be accepted. But no. We get told we have to include the opposite sex in our dating pools by trans identifying individuals otherwise we’re bigots. We get told sexuality is fluid by bisexuals. The modern LGBT community isn’t a safe place for homosexuals anymore, and it’s such a tragedy that it’s come to this.

[pipikosen]

happy late birthday nagi!! also, first post on this acc lmao, hope you enjoy!

[masterlist]

—

wc: 1861

reader: fem (implied; wears a skirt)

cw: none! but a smidge of angst if you squint really hard.

ɢᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴅᴜᴏ!ɴᴀɢɪ

gaming duo!Nagi who meets you in a fairly chill lobby.

It was one of the rare occasions Nagi decided to join team chat. Though reluctant, he finds himself clicking on the ever-detested icon, only for the lobby to be dead silent. He’s about to leave the voice chat when he finally hears a voice—yours—cut through above the game’s sfx.

“Ah, fuck, my bad.” Your voice is soft and not one he expected to find in this type of game and worst of all, you’re apologizing to him. 

“S’alright.” He doesn’t want to cause any more problems, it’s his off day from practice, after all. 

gaming duo!Nagi who sends you a friend request and a party invite right after the match because he thinks it’ll be a hassle if he has to deal with any more randoms than he has to. Plus you seemed nice enough.

Chok1: u don’t have to accept if you don’t want to

Chok1: but it was fun playing w u

You: nono i’ll join 

You: and it was fun playing w u too!!

Chok1: cool :x

You: hold on let me add you on disc

You: ____#1028

Unbeknownst to you, Nagi is smiling slightly at your message. He pulls his phone out, swiping down on a message from Reo asking what he’s up to before responding with his typical “:x” which only garners an ellipsis from the purple-haired male.

He’s quick to open Discord before leaving you hanging for too long, fumbling slightly with your username, but eventually, the friend request goes out. You’re quick to accept and it isn’t long till that familiar ugly emote of Wumpus begins waving at him, at which he sends one back before asking if he can start a call.

and thus begins your blooming friendship with gaming duo!Nagi.

gaming duo!Nagi who always queues up as your duo and isn’t afraid to dodge a match entirely if he isn’t in a role that directly correlates to yours. (spoiler alert: they all correlate, he just doesn’t like playing tanks) 

gaming duo!Nagi who isn’t afraid to hunt down and spawn camp the bastards that did the same to you only moments prior.

“Choki, I’m fine really.” Your pleading does little to placate the snow-haired male who’s pouting at you from behind the monitor. He just wants to defend your honor!!

So, he does it anyway. It makes you laugh, and he likes hearing you laugh.

gaming duo!Nagi who doesn’t share much about himself until months into your online friendship. Sure, he drops little tidbits about himself; like how he got his user from a cactus he had previously named or his favorite manga, but never anything truly personal. Until now, that is.

Once he thinks it's been long enough (and sat through enough of Reo’s internet safety lectures that he totally paid attention to) then he just starts dropping facts about himself out of the blue. It's kind of jarring, honestly.

“Seishiro.”

“What?”

“My name.” He only offers a noncommittal shrug, though he knows you can’t see it.

“Seishiro…Seishiro. I like it, it fits you Chokkun!” That adorable nickname paired with his actual name has his heart stammering slightly in his chest. Huh, that’s strange. That’s never happened before.

“Is it your first name or last?” 

He almost misses your question, clearing his throat, “Uh, first.”

“Oh.” You pray that the word didn’t come out as much of a squeak as you think it did. Your cheeks burn as you give him your own name. He says it in a way that has your throat tightening, imitating the way you had earlier; slowly, sensually.

You can’t help but think it sounds beautiful rolling off his tongue.

It almost feels intimate, doing this with him, even if it is just exchanging names. Though, you can’t help but crave more of these moments with Chokkun, or Seishiro, as he insists you call him now.

gaming duo!Nagi who doesn’t tell you he plays soccer because he finds it too much of a hassle to mix his athletics with his gaming, even if it does earn him a lot of earfuls from Reo.

gaming duo!Nagi who always drops guns with skins that he knows you like in Valorant or matches skins with you no matter what role you’re playing in League or Overwatch.

gaming duo!Nagi who isn’t above asking Reo for money when he wants to buy something for either you or him—whether it be a bundle, a battle pass, a skin, or a whole new game entirely.

When Reo asks, all he gets is a shrug in response. Even with the lack of a concrete answer, he sees the way Nagi stares longingly at his phone during breaks, more so than usual, that is.

“Finally manage to bag someone, Nagi? ‘Bout time, I was starting to think you were going to be lonely forever.” The white-haired striker doesn’t even flinch when his best friend’s hand comes down as a harsh, congratulatory slap to his back, a little too focused on the picture—the first picture that wasn’t a screenshot or a meme, really—that you sent him. He only offers a half-hearted hum in response.

gaming duo!Nagi who takes a bit to process that the picture you sent him was of the entrance of a convenience store. It looks familiar, but he doesn’t dwell on it. He blames it on the fact the picture is shaky.

gaming duo!Nagi who realizes late at night when he’s trying to sleep that the reason the convenience store looks familiar is because it's the one right around the corner.

gaming duo!Nagi who doesn’t want to ask and come off like a creep, so he brushes it off as a coincidence to placate his beating heart. What a hassle… 

gaming duo!Nagi whose first picture he sends you is one of his face.

Nagi isn’t quite sure what deity possessed him, but now he’s reveling in the consequences of his actions. He contemplates deleting the image but stops when he sees you typing. 

It wasn’t a bad picture, in all honesty. It was just a simple selfie, his face illuminated solely by the blue light of his monitor as his half-lidded gaze stares tiredly into the camera. His lips form a small pout after the back-to-back losses the two of you faced.

You: who’s that??? why are u randomly sending me pictures of hot men sei?

For a moment, he’s at a loss, staring blankly at your message. The gears in his head are slow to turn, but when they do, his face erupts into a brilliant scarlet as he groans into the palms of his hands.

How did you always manage to make him feel so fucking lame? This was such a pain in the ass, but he can’t find it in himself to just close your message and call it a day.

chosei: it’s me lmao

He waits with a bated breath while you type, all too aware of his fast-beating heart that threatens to jump out of his chest the longer you continue to type. You stop for a moment, your typing status disappearing for a moment before it returns.

You: oh

He feels his heart shatter slightly at your response, fisting at the arm of his office chair as he rubs at his tired eyes. He feels stupid, unsure on whether or not he wants to cry despite the fact you quite literally called him hot only moments prior. 

He turns to his phone, in hopes of venting to Reo, who despite all his future strict lectures and “I told you so”’s, cares deeply for his best friend's mental and physical well-being.

What Nagi wasn’t expecting was to find a picture of a random person dead-center of your messages. You.

You’re beautiful.

You: this is me!! pls don’t mind the mess i didn’t have time to clean (edited)

Nagi doesn’t need to know you had originally said “bc i wanted to hang out with you!!” at the end of your message. For the safety of your heart, you pray he didn’t see it.

gaming duo!Nagi who asks to have face cams on a lot more often, even if it obscures a necessary aspect of the game. What neither of you know is that you both take the chance to stare at the other’s face when you die.

gaming duo!Nagi who no longer denies the e-dater label that Reo slapped on him as a joke, merely humming as he skillfully balances the ball, counting down the minutes before practice is over. 

gaming duo!Nagi who dreads the fact the date to that stupid Blue Lock camp is drawing closer, knowing he can’t play with you as often, if not at all.

gaming duo!Nagi who asks to meet up out of the blue.

chosei: we should meet up

You: ??? where’d that come from lmao???

chosei: im being forced to go to camp >:x

You: for what? you aren’t a criminal are you?

chosei: no stupid

chosei: for soccer

You: you play a sport??????

You: ?????

chosei: ye? ig i never told you

chosei: mb

You: no no ur good

You: you just don’t seem like the type to play a sport

Ironically enough, he thought the exact same.

You: okay

You: say we hypothetically decide to meet up

You: how do you know we’re in the same prefecture

chosei: :shrug: 

You: ihy 

chosei: okay

chosei: what school do you go to then?

You: … touche

You: Hakuho

gaming duo!Nagi who sends you the address to the convenience store you first sent a picture of, followed quickly by the fact he goes to the same school so as to not seem creepy.

gaming duo!Nagi who’s a little too giddy to know how close you actually are to be able to hide his out-of-character grin from the all-seeing violet eyes of Reo.

gaming duo!Nagi who unintentionally searches for you, pouting because he doesn’t know what classes you have.

gaming duo!Nagi who’s surprisingly first to arrive at the convenience store you agreed to meet at, his hands fiddling with a shitty game he found on the App Store while his nose is tucked into the fleece of his hoodie.

“Sorry I’m late!” You round the corner at an alarming speed, nearly crashing into him as you trip over your own feet. Your hair is in a different style from what he’s used to seeing, and you bear accessories that he can’t recall seeing on your person prior.

And yet, Nagi can’t find it in himself to deem you anything less than stunning.

Fiddling with the skirt of your uniform beneath his observant gaze, you clear your throat before offering a meek smile, “Hi, Seishiro.”

He offers a small smile in return, “Hi.”

gaming duo!Nagi who asks you to be his that very same day, unable to look you in the eye.

gaming duo!Nagi who complains about how lame he feels after you accept.

gaming boyfriend!Nagi who holds you for the first time that day and never wants to let go.

hope you enjoyed it! feel free to send in requests if you did<3

[crazyunsexycool]

Lottie and Gracie are such cuties!

I want to see what Gracie's reaction is meeting Steebie because he's her favourite!

Maybe Bruce also helps her with her treatment to get well sooner??

Sweet baby Gracie 🥺🥺🥺!!! she shares Lottie’s love for Steve.

I’m going to also include the second part if your ask to this

Meet your Hero

Warning: sick child, hair loss, probably some references to inaccurate medical treatments, mentions of blood, fluff

Gracie was sitting at Lottie’s play table. She sat patiently while Lottie rummaged through her rather large headband collection looking for something special. She gave a little ‘a-ha’ when she found it.

“Is perfect, Gracie.” She held up a braided headband with red and blue fabric and white star beads woven in. “It matches.”

Lottie was referring to the Captain America shirt Gracie was wearing. It belonged to her older brother Derek but he let her have it since Captain America was Gracie’s favorite Avenger.

“But I don’t have hair.” Gracie runs her small hand over her head, pouting at the feeling of skin on skin instead of hair.

“So what?”

“I look ugly. I can’t meet Captain Merica like that.”

Lottie gasps. She’s truly horrified at what her friend is saying. She’s quick to argue that point though. “You not ugly Gracie. You so cute. An Steebie don’t care if you habe hair.” She says very matter of fact. “I no habe hair and Steebie still lobes me.”

“You were sick too?”

“Mhm.” Lottie moves toward her night stand where she has a picture of her and baby goats from when Tony brought a petting zoo to the compound. “See.” She holds it up to show her dearest friend.

“Oh. But you’re not sick anymore.”

“No. But mama and Buce make me bettuh. They make you bettuh too, I see it.” Lottie nods.

****

The girls walked the rather large hallways of the compound. Lottie held Gracie’s hand as she walked the same familiar path to Steve’s office. By now the agents and staff of the compound knew of Lottie’s wandering tendencies so they just went about their business. Some said their hellos or waved as the girls walked by.

“You weady?” Lottie looks at Gracie, her big brown eyes now more noticeable since she’s wearing her face mask again. She blinks a few times and nods, with that Lottie knocks on Steve’s office door.

“Come in.”

Lottie opens the door and walks right in like she has countless times before.

“Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?” Steve says as he pushes his chair back and accepts her hug.

“Steebie this is Gracie, she’s my best friend.”

“Well hello Gracie, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you.” Steve takes a knee and extends his hand to shake Gracie’s. “I like your shirt and it matches your headband, that’s so cool.”

“I told you he’d like it.” Lottie cheered.

Meanwhile Gracie just stared up at Steve with wide, wonder-filled eyes. Steve keeps his easy smile as he listens to Lottie tell him about Gracie some more since she’s kind of starstruck.

“How about we sit you girls down and get you something to drink?”

Steve picks Lottie up and sets her on his desk and then he does the same with Gracie. He loves to the mini fridge he keeps stocked up with a little bit of everything and gets two juice boxes.

“So are you having fun with Lottie?”

“Yeah.” She says quietly.

“Gracie is gonna see Buce. He makes her all bettuh.”

“Well Bruce is good at his job. But it’s ok to be scared sometimes.”

“Do you get scared?” Gracie looks up at Steve.

“All the time.”

“But you’re Captain Merica.”

“That’s true but sometimes there are things that are really scary. The important thing is that you have to face those really scary things and most of the time it turns out it wasn’t that bad at all.” Steve says. “It also help if you have friends and family to help you be brave.”

“Like Lottie?”

“Yup. Just like Lottie. Now I’m going to give you something only the bravest people get because you’re a fighter.” Steve says as he rummages through one of his drawers.

“What is it?” Gracie asks curiously.

Steve holds up a small badge that had the Howling Commandos’ insignia on it. “This was only worn by the Howlies. Do you know who they are?”

Gracie and Lottie nod.

“They were the bravest people I knew and now you’re a Howlie too. And it even goes with your shirt.”

“This is my be brave shirt. My brother gave it to me.”

Steve smiles and blinks back a few tears. “Well now you know I’ll always be with you.” He taps the pin.

Even though she put her mask back on after finishing her juice, Steve can tell she’s smiling with the way her eyes light up.

“Now how about I take you down to Bruce’s lab?”

****

You, Bruce, Duckie and Mr. and Mrs. Moore are sitting around a table going over what the first few steps are going to be. The double doors slide open and in walks in Steve with two giggling girls on his shoulders.

“I believe these two lovely ladies belong here.” Steve says as Lottie practically jumps off his shoulder. He however is much more gentle with Gracie.

“Look mommy I’m a Howlie now.” She proudly displays her pin. “Steve says only the bravest people ever get this.”

Her parents smile at him and accept his offer to take a picture with her. Gracie subconsciously puts her hand on her head again, obviously self conscious about her lack of hair.

“Hey, how about this, we take a picture now and when you get better we’ll take another one and you can see how much your hair has grown? Although I think you look very pretty either way.”

Gracie blushes at Steve’s words but nods anyway before posing for a few pictures. Steve takes his leave with one last hug to Lottie’s closest friend.

The girls sit patiently, quietly talking about Steve. Gracie absentmindedly running a finger over her new pin.

“Like we were saying before, we have better equipment to see more details. When we complete the scan we’ll be able to determine more.” Duckie says.

“The best course of action would be to let us run a few tests. That way we can come up with the best treatment.”

Mrs. Moore looks at you. You can see how she’s fighting against the hope blooming in her chest at the thought that maybe her baby can receive the best care possible. With a small nod you give her the push she needs and Gracie’s parents agree to run some tests.

****

You’ve been home for about an hour. The girls still wanted to play after the appointment. Gracie didn’t cry once while getting blood taken or through any other exam. She was a Howling Commando now, she was brave. While you and Bucky sit and talk to your newest friends your phone rings and you step into the kitchen when you see it’s Bruce.

A few minutes later you walk back into the living room. Mr and Mrs Moore’s attention goes to you the minute you step back into the room.

“That was Bruce.” You say calmly. The couple before you grab each other’s hands. “He said that he can have the medication ready by tomorrow. Gracie’s chances are high. Your girl’s going to be just fine.”

Gracie’s parents begin to cry as relief and joy and hope wash over them. They wouldn’t have to see their daughter go through so such a difficult illness for much longer.

And every year Steve keeps his promise and takes a picture with Gracie. Her hair is always different but her smile is always bright and her pin is always with her.

[call-sign-shark]

The Blue Hurricane and the Mustache Man|| Modern! Arthur Shelby x Reader

Summary:  Arthur almost regretted his decision to accommodate you that time he was shaving and you decided to mess with him... MASTERLIST.

general context: He's a former soldier and a drug addict trying to get better. You are an unhinged punk girl living in the streets. You weren't supposed to meet... And now Arthur's fate and yours are forever entangled.

Words: 1.4K

TW: Mention of drug use and craving, PTSD but otherwise it's funny and cute

Notes: This work is related to Pop Goes the Rat, which explains how Arthur and Reader met, as well as the whole context behind this Modern AU. However, you can read the two-part separately.

1 # The Mustache Man

“Hey old dog! Where are the ice cubes?”

You yelled from the kitchen, standing in front of the open fridge as you looked for the ingredients to make a fresh homemade lemonade. The fact remained that no one answered you. No reply. You closed the fridge and walked to the corridor, “Arthur?” You reiterated, louder, but only silence answered your call. Now you were sincerely pissed — why couldn’t he answer? After all, he was shaving in the bathroom at the end of the corridor, not in the garden or something. That was how you decided to burst the bathroom door open with one kick. Arthur jumped at the sudden loud noise, causing his razor to slip and cut his cheeks.

“Aouchhhh.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Hey fucker, care to reply?” You attacked him, your tiny fists on your hips, a cherry lollipop between your teeth, and the most angry pout you could make etched on your juvenile face. The soldier turned around and glared at you. He had still a bit of shaving cream from here and there on his face.

“Can‘t leave me alone for ten fookin’ minutes eh?!” 

“Where are the ice cubes?” You asked, teeth bared.

“In the bloody fridge, ye stupid brat! And, God! How many times should I tell ye to put some fookin’ clothes on?!” Arthur grunted, noticing you were only wearing an oversized t-shirt and black panties. Nothing else. 

“Hey. It’s not my fault if the temperatures are intense! Even my freakin’ vagina is sweating!” You exclaimed.

Arthur looked at you with a half-confused and half-desperate look on his face before shaking his head.  Okay, you were definitely bonkers. Straight out of the local mental hospital, he thought. Then, he noticed a second detail that made him frown,  “Wait. Is that me t-shirt?” 

“… Eeeeh. No?” 

“You stole one of me shirts.” He stated, “You live in me house for free and you steal me clothes… I swear I’m within an inch of kicking you rat ass.”  He growled, before focusing back on shaving his beard all the while mumbling and cursing you, “Fookin’ kid who annoys me the hell out… Should have let ye sleep outside,  should have never welcomed ye here I swear you’re such a pain in the ass, running half naked, stealing shits, and sleeping in me bloody bed.”  He stopped rambling when he realized you were still here, staring at him with your eyes squinted and your blue-haired head slightly tilted on the side, “What’s wrong with ye, stinky rat? Wanna fight?!” He barked, a bit more aggressively than he attended. 

“You’re forgetting plenty of hairs. And you're holding it wrong — see? You’ve plenty of small cuts on your ugly-ass face.” You said, your tone quieter than it was one minute ago. 

“Can’t you mind your own business, eh?”  

“Tsss! Lemme do it.” You did not let him have the time to react nor to truly understand your suggestion — and you did not care. What you did though was to grab him by the arm and force him to sit on the toilet lids. 

“What are ye doing?!” 

“Ah! Shut up Arthur! Shut the fuck up and stay still.” You scolded him. At first, he wanted to push you and tell you to go screw yourself, but words choked in his tight throat the moment you sat on his lap and straddled him, the weight of your small body pressing against his. Before he could even realize what was happening, you snatched the razor from him with one hand and grabbed him by the chin with the other. Arthur’s wide-opened eyes finally met yours, “There.” You finally said with a surprisingly soft voice he did not expect to hear from your foul mouth. You started to shave him, not minding the astounded expression on his face.

Surprisingly enough, the way the blade slid on his skin was so smooth he didn’t feel anything. Arthur relaxed a little bit. His brows frowned slightly as he observed you from that close. His steel-blue irises, hardened by the war and one suicide attempt, captured every tiny detail of your broken-doll face: the shape of your eyes, the juicy flesh of your lips as well as the black stains of your slightly runny makeup... Arthur sighed, his blazing breath caressing your skin. At one point, you almost lose your balance, though.

“Hey careful! Yer not a fookin’ Peaky Blinders! Don’t cut me face with blade nor slit me bloody throat!”

"Oopsie?"

"She almost sliced me and she says "hihi oopsie", tsss..."

It was how the soldier came to the conclusion that holding your hips to keep you stable was a good idea.  A weird wave of warmth blossomed in your stomach when his large and strong hands grabbed you firmly, but still, you decided to ignore it.

“Okay, I’m almost done.” You put the razor in the sink and grabbed a towel to clean Arthur’s face. Once everything was done, you pressed an annoying kiss on his cheek —he growled in response— and stood up. Somehow, he was a bit disappointed when your body left his. Still, you took two steps back to admire your masterpiece with the biggest and sharkiest smile plastered on your bratty face, “Hey Arthur. Nice mustache.”  You blurted out.

“What? OH! DON’T TELL ME YE DID THIS!” Arthur almost jumped from the toilet lid to check his face in the mirror. With one panicked hand, he started to pat his cheek while his piercing steel blue eyes looked at the horrible thing you had left under his nose, “WHAT THE FOOK.” 

You burst into a crazy ass laughter, delighted by the way he reacted to his new style. 

“Shave it off! Shave this awful mustache off! Look at me face?!” He turned to you and grabbed you by the shoulder a bit too fiercely, "I look like a fookin' grandpa!"  

“Okay okay, calm down fucker! Imma shave it. You’re so boring!” You complained, rolling your eyes and stomping the floor with your bare feet to show your discontent, "So boooring!" You reiterated. Looking forward to getting rid of the mustache, he sat a second time and let you straddle him but this time, his arms locked around your waist so strongly you could not help but yelp in surprise, “The hell you’re doing?!”

“Ain’t gonna let you go as long as you don’t shave the mustache.” The gravel in his voice was highlighted with genuine military authority, "So hurry the fuck up before I smash yer head against the wall."

“Alright, no need to be so mean.” Resigning yourself, you grabbed the razor for a second time. You were about to shave him when you stopped in the middle of your motion to look him right in the eyes though. With your brows slightly frowned, you brought your face so close to his that the top of your noses bumped together. Arthur, stunned, stopped breathing. He wanted to say something but the thing is he could not — his words didn’t want to leave his throat, petrified by the proximity between you. And, somehow, his soul didn’t want you to back off.

 Silence fell above the bathroom as your little and cold fingers grazed his upper lips. 

Boom. Boom. 

The beating of his heart quickened for each time your skin brushed his, he would feel a surge of electricity running his whole body. Had her perfume always been so sweet? He thought. Arthur gathered all his strength to focus on something else but he could not  — his steel blue irises inevitably fell on your slightly parted lips, between which he could see your tongue playing with the lollipop. A shaky breath escaped from his mouth. Gosh… How bad he wanted to kiss you. To taste the sugar of the candy straight from your flesh. 

“You should keep it.” Your voice snatched him from his thoughts.

“Eh?” Arthur said, blinking several times to get a grip on himself.

“You should really keep the ‘stache.” 

“Go fook yourself baby doll, I ain’t keeping it!” He grunted, showing his teeth like a wounded wolf. Baby doll — it had escaped from his mouth before he could even realize it 

“But it suits you well! I mean, I did it as a joke but it looks really good on you!!”

“You kid me right?” He raised a brow, “No way.” 

“Ohhhh please!! Pretty please Arthur, pleasepleaseplease!” You begged, suddenly bouncing on his lap, “pleaaaase! I'll be super nice and quiet for a whole day if you keep it just a lil' while!”

Another surge. Arthur's jaw clenched, the movements of your body making erotic thoughts dawn in his mind. “STOP THAT, EH.”  He tightened his grip on your hips to keep you from moving, his cheeks burning all of sudden for blood had rushed to his face. The soldier let out an angry sigh and looked at you, sighing. To be true, he had tried to send you off — he had really tried his best, but there was something in your adorable pout and your big shiny smile that got him on his knees, and it frustrated him even more. As annoying as you were,  he couldn’t refuse you anything because he ultimately liked the way your beautiful eyes lightened up when you smiled — or the melody of your bratty laugh, “Alright…”

“So you’re keeping it?! Really??”

“Just for the week-end. Off the 'stache goes after this delay. Got it?" He grunted, one brow raised.

"Got it. I'll obey your orders" You whispered, your fingers losing themselves in his slicked-back hair, " You know why?"

"Hm?"

"Because you're fookin' Peaky Blinders." You teased.

"... Get fucked."

♠️ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

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