#and you know that’s just within the last few months too bc i didn’t know abt snowfall earlier in the year

[honeyednights]

.

[afterglowkatie]

secret admirer | l.w.

leah williamson x reader | 1.4k | leah had been on the receiving end of your anonymous letters not having the courage to talk to her until you get caught out

ˏˋ°•*⁀arsenal/lioness!reader - a little leah fic bc mainly leah and alexia have been living rent free in my head all day today :') but yeah! also i work 10 hour days the rest of the week so a little something until i can not be too tired to write again!

‘Ooh, Leah’s got a secret admirer,’ Keira sang out, teasing Leah while they crowded around the bouquet of flowers and note that was left sitting in Leah’s cubby. Keira took the note from Leah’s hand reading it out loud, if any one was around they’d be able to listen in to the contents.

For the last few months Leah had been finding little notes of admiration left around in places that only she would be able to find. The notes started appearing around in places when she was anywhere with arsenal. At training, their home games and also their away games. At first she thought it might’ve been a supporter anonymously giving her support and admiration from afar. It could’ve looked like that especially with some of the shorter notes being pretty generic, ‘your laugh is my favourite sound’ and ‘your smile is pretty just like you’. 

Until the longer notes made their appearance, taking the place of the shorter notes. After a month of leaving the shorter notes around for Leah to find, she hadn’t figured out it was you which made you decide to be more brave. Well as brave as you could be hiding behind anonymous letters and gifts. Your letters got longer and more personal and in depth which made Leah clue in that it wasn’t a fan and the likelihood it was some crazed stalker was quite low. 

With how personal some of the things were and that she was still receiving flowers and notes even while on camp with England, Leah started considering that it was one of her teammates who Keira had deemed her secret admirer. Even if she was unsure of who was sending and writing her these notes, Leah still thought some of them were beautifully written and even gave her the comfort she needed especially after tough games.

‘I really have no idea who is leaving these for me. Could it be someone here?’ Leah voiced the thought she had been having for a little while now, that it was one of her teammates. They both pondered the thought, realising that it was probably the only reasonable explanation on how these letters always seemed to reach Leah no matter where she was.

‘Our next mission, finding out who your secret admirer is,’ Keira laughed, slightly wiggling her eyebrows, teasing Leah even more.

‘Our next mission is training,’ Leah rolled her eyes, shaking her head and gently pushing at her best friend.

Already out on the pitch you watched as the pair walked out joining the rest of the team before training started. Ever since you met Leah you had been infatuated with her. The way she was kind and helpful to you when you started at arsenal and when you got your first call up for the lionesses, it instantly drew you in. The only problem was that you had no idea how to properly talk to her. It wasn’t unknown that Leah can be intimidating, she definitely intimidated you. Whenever you could be around her within a group setting you were always there, even from slightly afar your feelings towards Leah continued to grow. 

It frustrated you how you didn’t even know how to befriend Leah, only being able to be around her whenever other girls from either team were there. At first you weren’t even going to leave her the letters, only writing them for yourself as a way to get your feelings out. Feeling like you would implode from how greatly you were feeling for Leah, luckily writing it out had helped you. Unlucky for you that one of the letters had slipped out and fallen in a place where Leah would find it. While you never wrote your name on any, all the letters were addressed to Leah so there was no mistaking that it was for her when she eventually found it. 

When you saw Leah holding up the coloured paper you knew you had used to write out your feelings, your heart started to race. Immediately trying to think of a way you could get far away from Leah just in case. But the small smile that ghosted her lips melted your heart a little. So you continued to leave more hoping that same smile would always make its appearance, wanting nothing more than to make sure Leah was happy. In some way you could still be in her life.

Nights before matches weren’t great for you, always ending up struggling to sleep from the build up of nerves. Eventually you’d be able to push the nerves away enough to be able to sleep but tonight proved to be the hardest you’ve faced since your first national camp. Finding yourself scribbling out a little note for Leah as a way to distract you from your nerves at the match the next day. 

Not wanting to keep the letter on you knowing it would be more risky with everyone on top of each other in the hotel and thinking everyone would be asleep by now you decided to deliver the letter. Sneaking out of your room and down the hallway towards the room you knew Leah was staying in, you made sure to be quiet enough so no one would wake up and find you out in the hallway at this time knowing you couldn’t make up a lie to save your life.

Though you didn’t account for Leah to still be awake having gotten lost in all different kinds of puzzle games on her phone. You shuffled around a little outside the door to her room contemplating whether you should actually slide the letter underneath the door or throw it out and make your way back to your own room. 

Leah had heard some noises outside the door in the hallway and had gotten up to check it out, to see if it was any of her teammates needing help. She was about to open the door when she saw the familiar coloured paper and knew it was another letter. You were still standing outside the door lost in your thoughts, wishing you had more courage to actually talk to Leah, when you suddenly came face-to-face with the girl that clouded your thoughts. Leah’s face matching the same surprise and shock as your own.

‘You were the one who wrote me all these letters?’ Leah was the first on to break the silence between the two of you, quickly stepping out into the hallway beside you and quietly shutting the door, ‘Why didn’t you just come talk to me?’ 

Leah’s eyebrows furrowed a little. While she had caught your interest, little did you know that you had caught Leah’s interest. She found the way you could instantly light up the room and change a sullen atmosphere into a lighter more joyful one quite endearing. Always wanting to get to know you and talk to you more but she could never seem to get you alone, always with a group of people whenever the two of you were around each other. Leah always watched you from afar, she’d become quite proud of the footballer you’d become since she first met you. After a tough match she’d always be looking around wanting to catch a glimpse of the smile you’d always be wearing to try and cheer everyone up. Leah was relieved knowing you had been the one writing her the letters.

‘I think I practised talking to you and asking you out a couple hundred times in the mirror,’ You sighed out, softly laughing at how ridiculous you felt sharing this with Leah. But she’d already read so many letters from you so you might as well confess everything now, ‘But anonymous notes was all the courage I could muster,’ You whispered out, looking around a little fidgeting with your fingers.

‘You practised asking me out? On yourself?’ Hearing the amusement in Leah’s voice, you looked up seeing her slightly smirking at you.

‘Of course that’s what you focused on,’ You shook your head, a small smile starting to creep it’s way onto your face when it suddenly dropped and you took a deep breath, ‘Well Le, now you know that it’s me…would you want to go out with me some time?’ You raised your eyebrow in question, your eyes glimmering with hope that Leah would agree, hoping that maybe she felt the same way.

‘Hm let me see,’ Leah pulled a fake thinking face, but it made your heart deflate not realising she was setting you up and just messing around with you. Leah saw your face drop and instantly reached for your hands, interlocking your fingers with hers while she smiled softly at you, ‘Oh stop the frown, I’d love to go on a date with you,’ 

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

could you write a azriel/reader fic where he only starts dating reader because elain and gywn are not interested in him and she's available and she overhears someone else talking about it a few months into their relationship but sees azriel being involving in their relationship and deludes/convinces herself into thinking he really likes her, but something happens and they fight(jealousy? you can choose a reason tbh) and he tells her that he only dated her bc elain/gywn weren't interested in the heat of the moment(maybe she brings it up? or he could say it himself tbh, idm) and has to grovel. you can take this whichever direction you want to, if you have other ideas about certain areas!

I see her in the back of my mind

He was a thunderstorm. Lethal yet so beautiful. Like a pyre, lighting up the darkness and calling you in. Calling them all in. Weaving the traps and lurking in his shadows. The unlucky soldier of love. Falling and falling and falling but never finding the right one. Never finding the satisfaction. Never finding that peace deep within. It was that sad part of his that called to you. That made your heart cry out for him. You understood that pain. That need. That desire to have someone. To hold someone and feel them holding back onto you just as tightly.

It was a surprise to you when he sat by your table at Rita’s. For the most part, he had only been polite to you. But his eyes had never lingered. He had been seeing Gywn too at the time. And you weren’t a home wrecker but it didn’t last long. He crawled back to Elain only to be thrown over the curb again once she slithered back to Lucien after a couple of weeks of ruffled sheets with the spymaster.

“You look in need of company”, he mused. Although now that you look back on it. It was his gaze that kept on going back and forth between your table and the one he had abandoned. “You look in need of water”, you chuckled watching him sway even while sitting down. “It’s nothing”, he hiccuped with a smile, “I just had to come to say hi, you had my attention all night”. Your heart had skipped a beat. Who wouldn’t have dreamed of being admired by the spymaster of the night court? “Just pretty words”, you brushed him off. “If I swung over to your shop tomorrow and told you the same thing stone sober would you believe me?” You had thought nothing of it. Nothing until he showed up. And said the exact thing he had promised just hours ago.

Everything that followed suit was a whole mess of everything. Stolen kisses. Long nights spent talking. Hand-written letters. He was there. Always. Everywhere. And innocent touches had quickly turned into racing heartbeats. Sweaty bodies. Cries of pleasure as he unraveled parts of you, you didn’t know existed. It was sweet. Blooming slowly.

“Accompany me to a ball in spring tomorrow night?”, he whispered, kissing your shoulder. “Tomorrow night?”, you gasped, “I have nothing appropriate to wear”. You shook your head. “Don’t worry it’s taken care of”, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, “I wasn’t gonna go, but… plans changed and quite frankly, I would love to show you off”, Azriel smiled at you. How your heart had soared when the thought of being his officially crossed your mind.

But you should have known that it was too good to be true. Should have seen the signs. Should have known. From the moment you opened the box with the dress. To pull out a baby pink gown, laced with flowers. You had frowned slightly, imagining that he would have wanted you to wear something close to his sapphire blue, to the depths of his shadows. But you had pushed it all aside. Maybe it was a themed party in spring. Maybe light colors were a must.

Then there was a whole lot of him being distant. He was close to you, yes but his mind was elsewhere. Azriel’s eyes barely stayed on you. Instead, he was scanning the crowd. Pulling you with him as if you were only an added accessory. “Az, are you looking for something?”, you asked starting to feel frustration bubbling. “No, just… need to see someone”, he muttered. “Can you do that alone? Or do I need to be dragged around like a dog”, you huffed, pulling your hand out of his. “Don’t be childish…”, he grunted.

And then he halted. Making you slam into the side of him. And you wished you hadn’t looked up because you imagined knew who had his full attention. There she was in a yellow dress. Golden curls flowed down her shoulders. She was stunning. You got the appeal. Azriel stepped forward. Your hand was forgotten. A light gasp slipped past your lips as you watched him go. “Az”, you called out walking right after him. But he never answered.

You watched him embrace Elain. Watched her smile at him. A fire burning you from within. You had no idea what part of you possessed you to walk towards them. But you did. “Azriel”, you called out once more. “Elain”, he muttered, “this is yn”. “I’m his girlfriend”, you added, extending your hand to her. She only smiled at you. “Love the dress”, she looked you over. “Azriel got me the same one but I didn’t love the color so I sent it back”, your face fell, alongside your heart. “And the necklace. Didn’t you give this to Gywn?”, she chuckled, before tapping your cheek, “You sweet thing”. Her eyes turned to Azriel for a brief moment, “You know where to find me”, she whispered. And even if Azriel didn’t nod. Even if there wasn’t a single way to know what was on his head. You knew his mind was made. You knew where those late-night calls took him.

You let out a bitter laugh before turning away from him. “Y/n”, he called out but you were done. Done being plaid. “Your bitches shit? Seriously Azriel? You gift me the same shit you gave to other bitches you fucked?”, you hissed turning to face him. “Don’t call them like that”, he muttered. Your wind eyes watched him, “The audacity… You are a fucked person”, you practically spat at him.

“I needed you, okay?”, he hissed, walking after you. “What for? To be your punching bag? A heartbreak fuck?”, you whinnied, pulling at your hair. “I liked you, okay, you caught my eye”, Azriel replied, making you halt. “Past tense. You used the past tense”, you turned to face him, “Liked”, and your eyes looked him over. “I didn’t want to hurt you, I just…”, he started. “I curse you, Azriel from the night court. I curse you in love”, an angry tear slipped past your cheek, “May you never find peace with any of your future lovers”.

[jishyucks]

Crayon Confessions – njm

‣ pairing: na jaemin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, f2l/co'workers'-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids… and you guess, Jaemin. That would make it three, but he falls under that second category; alternatively, in which you weren’t really planning on developing feelings for Na Jaemin but seeing him work with kids all the time at the local community centre is making it damn hard not to.

‣ warnings: genuinely don't think there's anything, low-key rushed ending

‣ an: this is honestly not my best but FINALLY MY LAST PART OF THE SERIES IM CELEBRATING YIPEEEEEE—yes i know this is set in december and its now may but it's bc this was supposed to be posted during the holidays 😭 my dumbass overestimated my capabilities and school got in the way but all that matters is that i actually finished a 12 part series?? patting myself on the back,, ANYWAYS to those who actually followed my series I thank you so much. PLS ENJOY THIS! <33

Series Masterlist

You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids. And within the past few months, Na Jaemin has been fighting his way to the top of that list despite (technically) fitting under that second category. 

The more time you spent with him, the more you were able to make out that Jaemin obviously wanted to make a name for himself rather than being lumped into a handful of men—and you didn’t like it.

You’ve only known the guy just shy of six months, having chosen to volunteer at the community centre since July, and he’s managed to shimmy his way into your life like it was his purpose. And it makes you angry because he was perfect—perhaps as perfect as the dozens of fictional men you’ve crushed on.

Only Jaemin wasn’t fictional. 

In fact, he was sitting two tables away from you, helping the kids spell out the words they needed to include in the holiday greetings cards. 

“You’re staring again.” 

Giselle presses her lips into a tight line to keep her laugh from bursting out. 

Your eyes widened, trying to recollect yourself when you realized that you were, in fact, staring at Jaemin, “Was I being obvious?” 

Giselle hums, tilting her head to muster up an answer, “Mm… a little?”

“Not a little. A lot.” 

You and Giselle turn to Lily, one of the kids you’ve both grown close to over the past few months. You raise a brow at her, “Aren’t you supposed to be making these cards?” 

Lily snickers and goes back to her given task of colouring a poorly printed Santa Claus. You turn back to Giselle, who’s already offering an apologetic look because kids are blunt. 

“Okay, you were more than a little bit obvious but that boy was too oblivious to notice,” she shrugs, “I think, at least.” Giselle taps the pile of finished cards against the table to line them all up before placing them again at the centre of the table.

You groan, tempted to bang your head against the shared table in front of you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 

“I’m not,” Giselle snorts, “But I really don’t think he saw you. He’s too busy with the kids.” She nods her head in Jaemin’s direction and your eyes follow without a second thought.

The sight was one you’ve seen countless times yet it still makes you swoon every time you lay eyes on the scene. Jaemin’s perfect smile is etched on his face as he leans over one of the youngest kids, fixing the way the boy is holding the marker. The boy lets out a little giggle, reciprocating the smile on the elder’s face.

“Look away before you lose yourself again,” Giselle teases, using her index finger to turn your face away from Jaemin’s direction. Giselle immediately notices the way a look of sheepishness replaces your charmed expression. She pats your shoulder, almost coming in the form of a push, “I bet if you asked him out he would say yes.”

“I’ll only ask him out if I’m sure he likes me back,” you whisper. “I have literal receipts of clues that he does like you back,” Giselle threatens to pull her phone out despite your organizer discouraging the use of any devices during the shifts. 

You shake your head, head mentally raking through all the times you Jaemin had made you feel like sinking into the hard cold cement. “Those were just times I was overthinking everything… I’m sure he’s just naturally nice.”

“Well, he is naturally nice,” Giselle nods, “But you can’t tell me that all the things he’s done were done solely to be nice.” Giselle leans back on her chair and narrows her eyes at you, “He’s too old to be on Santa’s list anyway.” 

“I don’t consider holding the door open for me and bringing me hot chocolate that one time as clues.” 

One of the other little girls pushes an unfinished piece of paper and the small baby safety scissors your way. By reflex, you pick it up from where she started having trouble, snipping away the excess paper before handing it back for her to glue onto construction paper. 

“How about that one time he walked you home?”

“He said he was going to his grandma’s—” you counter.

“Could’ve been an excuse,” Giselle shrugs, “Real reason could be he wanted to spend time with you without having to ask for it.” 

“I was wrong. I think you’re the delusional one here,” you narrow your eyes and tap your feet against the floor underneath you. Jaemin was Jaemin. Soon after meeting him, you caught on to the fact that he was naturally playful, almost coming off as a flirt to everyone he encountered. 

“I’m not being delusional,” Giselle rolls her eyes and leans in closer to you so that whatever comes out of her mouth next can’t be heard by anyone around you, “Do you want me to list everything that’s happened between him and you over the past few months? ‘Cause you’re asking for it.”

You shake your head, already knowing which ones she’d list. Giselle already told you that if she could, she’d make a PowerPoint presentation of Top 10 Jaemin and Y/N Moments for fun, but you were lucky that she had been swamped in both school and volunteer work to even start it. 

“You’re acting like I’m not the one who’s told you these things,” you blink, “And like I said, any of them could be a product of delusion.” 

Giselle peeks over at you through the corners of her eyes and smirks, “Oh, but there are ones that you haven’t seen that I have…”

And just like that, Giselle has all of your attention. It’s like she’s grasping it with the tips of her fingers, playing with it to tease you. 

“Like?” You gesture for her to begin, not wanting to waste a single passing second.

Another kid at the table holds up her card for Giselle to see, “Miss Giselle, how does it look?” 

Giselle’s eyes light up and she smiles, “I love how you coloured the tree, Nari! Do you need help cutting it out?” 

Nari shakes her head, “I’ll try myself first.”

Giselle nods, “Sounds good to me!�� Then once she’s sure that Nari is back and busy with the paper tree, she turns back to you, “Do you want it in chronological order?”

Your brows furrow, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

She hums and begins, “You know how you came when me and Jaemin have already been here for a little while?” 

You nod.

“Well, Jaemin, every single day since we both started, kept his things in that one corner locker. He told me once he hated the other lockers with a passion but never really told me why. It was actually hilarious because there was one shift when Jisung came earlier than he did and he snatched it before Jaemin and Jaemin told him off,” Giselle snorted, recalling the memory, “It was stupid. I remember telling Jaemin to let the boy be, but he was… territorial? I don’t know how to word it.” 

“Where are you going with this?” you say impatiently.

“I’m getting there,” she huffs, “Anyway, when you came, you were stuck with that one locker at the top, right?”

You nod again.

“I remember you kept complaining to me about hating the locker—”

“It was too high for me to even reach the hook!” You say.

“I know, but that’s beside the point,” Giselle laughs, “My point is the very next day, Jaemin came early for the shift and instead of taking that corner locker, he claimed that top locker despite his usual one being free. It’s been that way ever since. Now you always take that corner one.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘And?’” Giselle’s jaw drops, “Don’t you see? He was territorial over a damn locker and when you came along, he went out of his way to move lockers just because he saw you were struggling with the top one.” “He’s just being ni—”

“Do I need to remind you that Ningning, who’s shorter than you, literally complained about the same thing and he didn’t do shi—” Giselle catches herself from swearing, remembering the setting, “—Anything to help her?”

You don’t reply and Giselle takes this as a sign to continue, “Then, there have been those days you come to a shift tired because you’ve been awake since dawn because of your eight AMs, right?” You don’t do anything but blink and Giselle continues, “I’ve seen that man go out of his way to take up some of your harder tasks just so your shift is easier and you can relax. But when I come to the shifts tired and you’re not there and he is, he just laughs in my face!” 

You laugh because it just sounds like Giselle’s taking this as an opportunity to rant to you about her playful rivalry with Jaemin. 

“Don’t laugh! Can’t you see where I’m going with my examples?” she whines, “I know you’re smart, Y/N!”

You shake your head, “I need you to explain it more bluntly, Gi.” 

Giselle facepalms, a sigh flying out of her lips, “What I’m saying is that Jaemin pays attention to you more than you think… he treats you a hundred times better than any of us but, obviously, you’re too blind to see it because you’re still hung up on the idea that he’s just ‘being nice’.”

You swallow a pool of spit you didn’t even know was sitting in your mouth and you process your friend’s explanation. The idea of the possibility of Jaemin actually liking you back was something you thought about once in a while, but it was usually in your bed right before you went to sleep giggling. Never did these thoughts appear in broad daylight, much less with Jaemin sitting just yards away.

The thought tickles your stomach and you wanna say something to Giselle, though you’re unsure what. And before you could bring yourself to open your mouth, you felt a light tap against your shoulder.

“Miss Y/N?” 

You’re punted out of your thoughts when one of the little boys from Jaemin’s table appears to your left, entering your line of sight.

“Hi, Junnie! What’s up?” you bend down slightly at the waist, eyeing the card and the crayon he’s holding in his hand. 

He makes no effort to say anything else. Instead, he holds out the two items in his small hands, waiting for you to take them. When you gently do, he takes a step back, holding his arms behind his back to watch you read the card.

The front of the card was just a normal card, the greeting ‘Happy Holidays’ written on the front in a child’s handwriting in red and green crayon. Underneath the words was a Christmas tree, glued on there by, who you assumed was, Junnie. 

Then, when you open it, your heart skips a beat and a half. 

In crayon, in messy yet very cute writing you read: 

Are you a Christmas tree? 

Because I'm really pining fir you!

Dinner date?

“It’s from Mister Jaemin,” Junnie says from behind the card. He’s teetering on the balls of his feet, cheeks being pushed up by his smile.

Your heart is now pounding against your chest because it is all playing out perfectly, like how it would in a movie. With Giselle telling you things you’ve never noticed before, to you denying, and now Junnie was just sent by Jaemin to send you this cute little letter to confess to you—you’re not sure how to react.

“Oh, really?” you question.

“Really?” Giselle gasps from next to you. 

Your eyes immediately dart across the room and to the mentioned boy, who’s awfully pretending to busy himself with the scraps of paper littering the table.

“What’s your answer?” Junnie questions.

Embarrassingly, you don’t even hesitate to scribble down your answer underneath the question. Handing it back to Junnie, you wave for him to come closer and you bring your mouth up to his ear, “Can you help me play a small trick on Mister Jaemin?” 

Junnie nods, a mischievous smile appearing almost instantly on his face.

“When you go over there to give him this, I want you to pretend to be sad, okay? Make him think it’s not a yes.” 

Junnie struggles to contain his smile before nodding once more, then turns to make his way back to Jaemin.

You follow the young boy with your eyes, watching as he does his very best to maintain a poker face. You watch as Jaemin turns to him, a look of confusion surfacing his face when he sees that Junnie is not smiling like he had anticipated and you can’t help but snicker.

The moment Junnie’s within hearing vicinity, Jaemin says something to him that you obviously couldn’t hear. Junnie glances back at you and then reveals your answer to Jaemin and you know he’s done it the second Jaemin’s face lights up. 

You chuckle as Jaemin looks up at you, his face breaking into a wide smile. He waves at you shyly, like a bashful kid, before silently mouthing, "Tomorrow?"

You nod, warmth spreading across your cheeks. Giselle makes a comment over your shoulder but you don’t quite catch it, the cells in your body buzzing in excitement. 

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: 12/12!! This was poorly proofread so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes but I wanted to finish this so I can work on other wips!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS,, THANK YOU!

[monzamash]

anonymous: no. 27 screams Pierre 👀

— it really does. i actually got a few sent in for pierre so i'm gonna bunch this prompt and “good girl" together bc it just felt right and i got carried away writing for him 🙏 (and i had to re-upload this because i couldn't edit the ask after posting, sorry!)

pierre gasly x you (femreader) | 1.1k 18+ minors dni

Pierre was a menace to society; a playboy, someone you swore you would never give yourself to again – no matter how charming those steely blue eyes could be. They were agonisingly alluring at the best of times but you’d been celibate, by choice, for months now, so much as a brisk wind making your thighs clench together.

You were borderline cock-staved, embarrassingly so and when Pierre, your friend, invited you to a club night he was hosting, you should’ve said no.

A polite decline and a promise to catch up with him next time he was home in Milan would’ve sufficed but you couldn’t. Your fingertips had a mind of their own, swiftly texting back a simple ‘see you there’ before tearing your wardrobe apart to find something to wear, desperate to impress and to find someone, anyone to put you out of your own self-inflicted misery.

“But why would you do that?”

Pierre couldn’t comprehend your staunch declaration of abstinence, baffled by the decision to starve yourself from something so good, so enjoyable. It was something he hoped he would never have to do, god-willing.

“Um, because the last guy I was dating fucked his secretary…”

Pierre almost laughed at your response, not because what had happened to you was funny, hell, he almost put a hit out on the guy – he laughed because of how ludicrous that relationship was to begin with. You deserved more than some washed up tech dude, fumbling his way through Italy trying to scam a bunch of old people who didn’t know how to use the Internet. You deserved a man, a real man.

“Why exactly is that funny to you?”

“It’s not,” Pierre cleared his throat, “Darling, that guy was an asshole, a scumbag… I told you that a million times.”

You rolled your eyes at his reply, “Not really looking for an ‘I told you so’ from you of all people, P.”

Pierre was quick to hold his hands up in defence, realising that you were actually hurt by this asshole and he didn't need to add to that.

“Eh, I’m not telling you that. I’m saying that you should want for more and at least find someone who can satisfy you like you deserve...” He was testing you, watching for your reaction and he got one, quirked brow and pursed lips.

“When did I say anything about not being satisfied?” You were curious to know when you had ever aired that unfortunate tid-bit to the man beside you.

“You didn’t have to, ma belle. I’ve known you. I know what satisfied looks like in those eyes. I’ve seen it.”

His blue irises were unyielding, threatening almost, tempting you back into the arms of the man who had sworn himself to you. Sure, he fucked around and sampled most of Italy but you were the pinnacle of his fickle heart; you were his.

“Remind me again.”

Three simple words ignited the simmering desire deep within Pierre’s soul, eyes darting across your face as he caressed your warm, rosy cheek in his hand. He was soft with you, careful not to break you in the chaos of his want but when your lips crashed onto his, he knew you burned for him too; desperate to feel something again, with him. Your fingers grappled his short beard, stubble tickling your skin as he deepened the kiss, tongue battling against one another, starved for passion.

Pierre subtly inched back, lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “Where should I fuck you? Your choice.” His eyes flickered between yours, waiting for an answer while he savoured the way your pupils dilated in the darkness.

With a devilish grin you asked, “Did you drive here?”

A soft chuckle rumbled in Pierre’s tightening chest as he processed your words, fingers instantly entangled with yours as he dragged you out of the club and into the dimly lit street. He didn’t need to be asked twice to fuck you in his Mercedes, the idea making his already snug slacks a lot tighter. Even in the midst of his excitement, Pierre still rushed around to the passenger side and opened your door; endlessly chivalrous even if what he was about to do was anything but gentlemanly.

“Thank you,” You whispered, mimicking his smirk before sliding into the passenger seat with a nervous sigh.

You watched Pierre strut around the front of his car, chest puffed out and head darting in all directions to check the surroundings. A small smile tugged on the corners of you lips when he jumped in beside you with a boyish grin, hand immediately reaching down to push his seat back as far as it would go while the other roamed your bare thigh.

“I don’t think anyone can see,” Pierre muttered as he leaned back in his seat and started unbuckling his belt with his free hand.

“Don’t care if they can to be honest,” You sweetly replied and shuffled the hem of your tight skirt up your thighs, peeling it up around your waist and out of the way.

Pierre tutted as he palmed himself over his briefs, watching you carefully crawl over the console and settle your knees on each side of his thighs, “That’s very naughty,” He hummed, gripping your waist as you settled on his lap, his heart racing under your shaky hands.

“I thought you knew me, darling.” You taunted and tugged his stiff cock from the tight confines of his Calvin Kleins, craving to feel his soft tip teasing your hole.

“That is why I’m not surprised,” Pierre exhaled, fingers gripping your sides even harder as you slid down slowly and bottomed out. He was bigger than your ex, bigger than anyone you’d been with, full stop.

The grimace stitched between your furrowed brows always gave Pierre the ultimate satisfaction, dick twitching at your shallowed breath and tiny moans. You were beautifully unholy, panting and clutching at the necklace hanging loosely around his neck, whispering expletives and praising the lord for the best dick of your life.

It was nearly too much for him.

“Good girl – take all of me. My god.”

You fell forward and pressed your forehead to his as you got reacquainted, the fullness really pushing you to the limit as you bounced. The sound of Pierre moaning against your parted lips was perfect encouragement and as hard as he tried to stay still and let you take control, his rutting hips had other ideas. He couldn’t stop himself from nudging you along, meeting you halfway as you circled your hips, ripping moan after moan from his perfectly pink lips.

“Don’t do this to me,” He practically whined with a stupid smile, hands clutching for power as you fucked him into a muttering mess. His flushed face was covered by his messy hair until you reached up and pushed it back, eyes locked and riddled with lust.

“Aw,” You cooed and pinched his chin between your thumb and pointer, angling his gorgeous face up to yours, “I know you can take it, handsome.”

Pierre’s raspy laugh echoed through the stifling car as he bucked his hips and sent your flying into his chest. You’d missed these brief moments of joy and the unadulterated pleasure he could give you. And it was moments like this where you wondered why you ever fought the desire to have him.

Because he could give it to you – every which way you wanted.

thoughts? feelings? let me know! askbox masterlist if you want to read more x

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals - Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.4

Summary: You remember memories of your childhood with Xavier, hoping to get some courage from it to talk things out with him. Wednesday starts to suspect something, and Principal Weems isn't happy with either of you.

Warnings: angst, mention of blood, underage drinking, swearing. IMPORTANT: the last part of the taglist had made my tumblr bug so hard so it didn't work, I'm sorry for those who hadn't received a notification while being tagged. If the problem continues for further parts, I'll consider deleting the taglist bc fuck I just lost 40 minutes re-editing this chapter 3 times before finally achieving to post it

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3]

Xavier had been your first kiss. You doubted he remembered it but you definitely did. When your aunt had dropped you at the Thorpe manor for the first time, you were just turning 6 and had that funny haircut that almost hid your eyes. Your aunt Cordelia wasn’t so fond of this hairstyle, but things had been hard for you since your mom’s passing less than six months ago; taking care of the birdnest you were calling hair could wait for the situation to settle down. 

Aunt Cordelia had explained to you that you were going to live with a dear friend of hers for some time because she couldn’t take you with her to an upcoming witch congress on the other side of the world. Couldn’t or wouldn’t you didn’t know, to you the only thing that mattered was that you were going to a foreign place, and your mom wasn’t here anymore to comfort you. 

“You’ll be fine here,” had assured your aunt while your luggage was taken out of a car by the butler. 

“Can’t I come with you?” you had asked again with a wobbling lip and watery eyes. 

“You know you can’t pumpkin,” said Aunt Cordelia. “Mr.Thorpe has a son about your age, I’m sure you’ll become friends very fast.” 

And just like that, she left, and you found yourself alone in a manor you didn’t know. 

Mr.Thorpe had been intimidating but the good thing was he hadn’t more time for you than your aunt did, and as soon he introduced himself to you he left too. So you had fled to your new room and hidden in the closet to cry. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t even want to be raised by Aunt Cordelia ; you wanted your mom, but that was impossible now. 

Then, you had heard the creak of the closet’s door being opened and you had timidly peaked up from behind your hand. A little boy was crouching down to your level, looking at you curiously with his big hazel eyes. 

“Why are you sad?” he had asked with his childish voice. 

Taken aback by his question, you had wiped the tears on your cheeks, “I’m not sad, I’m just lonely.” 

He had looked at you curiously; then he had raised his little hand to brush away the hair that was obstructing your face. The gesture had made you flinch a bit, but he was gentle and somehow, you had felt like you could trust this boy. He had beamed, exposing the gap left by a missing tooth. 

“You have pretty eyes!” he had exclaimed. 

“Thanks?” you had said unsure, still sniffling. 

He nodded vigorously, his smile plastered on his chubby face. Then he extended his hand to you. “Wanna get out of here? I know where the cookies are hidden, we can search for them together, it’ll be fun!” 

This brought a small smile to your face for the first time in weeks, and you had taken his hand. Within the next few days, you had your hair cut. That’s how you met Xavier Thorpe. 

From there, your friendship bloomed. Aunt Cordelia tried to spend at least six months a year with you, and you lived at her house for that time. Well, she tried, and sometimes you found yourself dropped by the Thorpe manor more than intended. This didn’t bother you, you enjoyed Xavier’s company, and you were best friends after all. And considering his own father was also absent frequently, he loved when you were there. When you turned 12, your aunt brought you along on her trips to make a sort of pilgrimage around all the important sites of witchcraft around the world. According to her, it was time for you to learn more about your history and soak up their energy. The trip was so long, you didn’t see Xavier for two whole years. And when you came back to the Thorpe manor at 14, the both of you had changed a lot. Gone was the little boy with scraped knees and round cheeks, the teenager you met at the door was lanky and definitely taller than you now. 

“Hey,” he had greeted you with a lopsided grin. The twinkle in his eyes though hadn’t changed the slightest. 

“Hi,” you had smiled back. “You’ve let your hair grow,” you noticed. 

“You lost the braces,” he counter-attacked, not losing his smile for a second. 

He opened his arms and you didn’t lose a breath before diving into the hug. Oh, you had missed him. You had thought that everything would be like usual, but since puberty, you definitely noticed that things had indeed changed between you two. Your aunt asked a little more about Xavier when you went home, and you didn’t look at him the same way. He was more…attractive somehow; you loved the long hair. The same week you came back, the two of you went to a party with some of his friends from the normie school he went to. This wasn’t the first time any of you had alcohol, but it definitely was the first time you got drunk. A silly game was suggested and in your already advanced tipsy state, you and Xavier had thought this would be fun. You remembered vaguely the rules being to spin a bottle and then kiss someone or drink to avoid it, or something. To be honest most of your memories of that night were kind of blurry ; but when the bottle had pointed in your direction and your eyes had met Xavier’s, you distinctly remember your heart missing a beat. Maybe you had thought about protesting or something, maybe your mind had been too cloudy to properly ponder whether or not you should do this. It didn’t matter, because the next thing you knew then, Xavier had leaned to you and had pressed his lips against yours. That’s how you got your first kiss, by kissing your best friend during a drinking game. 

The next day the hangover had been so hard, Xavier didn’t remember half of the previous evening, not even your kiss. But you definitely did. Over the years you had forced yourself to push it down, thinking it was only a silly teenagers game and that you shouldn’t get too excited about this. 

Thinking about this now, you thought that you had been in love with Xavier for far longer than you imagined. You should have seen it coming, and yet here you were, with flowers slowly growing in your lungs because of your feelings. 

You were wandering in Jericho as the other Nevermore students were dispatched in different areas for Outreach day. Principal Weems had reminded you that everyone’s presence was requested for the inauguration ceremony at the end of the day – that yes, even you miss L/N are to attend this. Then she had let you free for the remainder of the day, and you were glad she did. You had a few things to buy at Jericho, this could be the occasion. But while you were making your purchases you were starting to realize that you were only postponing the moment when you’ll eventually have to talk with Xavier. 

He had left the Nightshades’ crypt quite upset, it pained you even more to know that he was mad at you. You needed to fix this and fast. So you ended up pushing the Weathervane’s doors  open, eyes searching for familiar hazel hair. Enid had texted you where Xavier had the displeasure of working that day and reading the coffee shop's name had made you wince. Hopefully, Tyler won't be working today. 

“Hey L/N,” you heard from the counter and you cursed internally. Turning to the counter, you narrowed your eyes at the curly-haired boy. 

“Galpin,” you greeted him half-heartedly as you came closer. Ever since what he and his friends had done to Xavier on last year’s Outreach day, you despised him. 

“Do you, uh, want to order something?” he asked. 

God, the way he acted all innocent and kind made you want to punch him in the face. On any other day you probably would have, but right now you were just drained. 

“Sure,” you finally let out, “I’ll have a large cappuccino with two shots of espresso, please.”

“Coming right up,” he said before starting to make your order, and you find a seat next to the window. 

For a moment, you put your face in your hands like it would give you some peace for a while. Everything had escalated so quickly, you didn’t even know if there was going to be an actual end to all of this. 

The sound of a mug being dropped in front of you on the table made you look up, and the sight of Xavier surprised you. 

“Tyler mentioned that you had ordered something,” he explained to your surprised expression. 

Glancing to the boy awkwardly standing behind the counter, who tried to look like he was busy and not looking at the two of you, you gave him the slightest nod of the head as a thanks. Xavier sat on the opposite bench, arms plopped on the table nervously. 

“Look I–”

“There’s something–” you both started at the same time. It made you chuckle nervously, “Go on,” you pressed him gently. 

He passed a hand through his hair nervously, “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a dick yesterday, okay?”. The guilt in his eyes was evident and you were relieved to hear that he had calmed down. “I shouldn’t have called you a liar.”

“No, that’s on me,” you muttered, playing with the still untouched mug. “I’m…not feeling well these days,” you finally admitted. 

Xavier’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. To his knowledge, you never had any serious health issues. The flu once in a while maybe, but nothing that sounded that bad. He leaned closer to you over the table, a serious look on his face. 

“What’s going on?” he asked in a hushed, yet gentle voice. 

Suddenly, all the courage you had built up vanished. You had been so confident that you were going to tell Xavier everything, that this was the only way of making things right. You felt like you owed him that, after all, he had everything to do with your condition. 

But as you were about to expose the truth to him…something stopped you. 

The feeling of a warm hand on your trembling ones made you snap back to reality. Xavier’s face was fully painted in worry now. 

“You okay?” he asked. “You zoned out for a second.” 

You nodded slowly, gulping. No need to lie to yourself, you knew exactly what was stopping you from telling Xavier everything. The fear of losing him. Deep down you were afraid that if you told him about the Hanahaki disease, and what – who – caused it, he would end up leaving you. And you were far more afraid of losing Xavier than you were of coughing flowers. Because without Xavier, you feared that you'd end up alone again. And you never wanted to ever feel like that again. 

Licking your lips, you wondered what you should say to him. So you lied again. 

“I’m ill,” you blurted out. “I got sick around a week ago, that’s why I’ve been so distant lately.”

Technically, you weren’t really lying to him. It had been more than a week since the first symptoms, but the rest was true. You simply choose…not to disclose everything. 

“Shit,” he swore under his breath, “are you feeling okay? What is it?”

“I’m fine,” you squeezed his hand in reassurance, “I had no idea of what it was until recently so…”

“Is this serious?” he inquired again. 

Flashes of the pages mentioning the inevitable death of patients appeared in your mind. 

“No,” you finally let out. “I’ll get better at some point I’m sure. Bought a few things to make a potion to ease the symptoms.” 

Xavier glanced at your bag and nodded. Whether or not he believed you, he didn’t press the matter further. 

“I should have been honest with you sooner, it’s just…it had been a couple of rough weeks,” you said with a weak smile. 

He nodded in understanding, still you could see he was still worried about you. “Yeah, I get it…between that, Wednesday's arrival and the whole monster thing it had been a little bit crazy, right?”

You slightly frowned at him. It wasn’t it, he was misreading the situation completely! As you were about to say something, you suddenly became very aware of faint whispers around you. So did Xavier apparently because the two of you whipped your heads around at the same time. Glancing behind your shoulder you noticed a group of normies teenagers throwing glances at you, whispering and giggling among themselves. Some of their words reached your ears.

“...think…’re together?...”

“maybe…freaks…from Neverm…”

“...kinda cute…couple…”

You felt your face burn. Not in shame, but for the first time in the possibility of what it implied. Many people had mistaken Xavier and you as a couple before, but it was the first time you truly felt flustered by the idea of it. 

Then Xavier pulled his hand off of yours and the sudden loss of contact made your heart drop. He sank into his seat further, putting more distance between the two of you. Eyes flickering to him in disbelief, you only met his sorry expression. 

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he muttered while casting his eyes away. 

You wanted to protest, to say that it didn’t make you uncomfortable at all, but words were stuck in your throat. As were petals. 

“I should probably go back to work,” said Xavier while getting up. “But I’ll finish in an hour, if you want to wait?”

“Sure,” you mumbled. 

Tears started to burn behind your eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. The light ring of the doorbell made both of your heads turn to Wednesday who had just arrived. Her sole presence, usually not unwelcomed, was dreadful to you and you felt like you were becoming lightheaded. The burning inside your chest bloomed and the whole coffee shop felt suffocating. Raising from your seat abruptly you gathered your bag and vest without a word. 

“Where are you doing?” asked Xavier lightly touching your shoulder. 

“I’m- I’m not feeling well,” you excused yourself, which made Wednesday raise her eyebrow as she came to your side. “I need some air.” Feeling Xavier’s worried eyes on your back you squeezed the hand on your shoulder. “We’ll talk about this later, okay?” you whispered to him. 

He seemed to hesitate, but between your pleading eyes and the intense bored expression on Wednesday’s face, he finally conceded. 

“Okay,” he said softly. “I’ll see you later.”

You smiled weakly at him before rushing to the exit, head low. Walking rapidly through the streets you hurried until you found an empty alley which you immediately rushed into before throwing up in a garbage can. The flowers and blood mixed together regurgitated from your sore throat, as quickly as they had appeared within your chest. Tears flooded down your cheeks as the last petals left your mouth. Coughing fits were getting more and more unpredictable. You choked on your own breath, mouth tasting bitter and throat ablaze. If you didn’t do something real quick, you were going to die. But for now, you just felt so, so tired. Weems and the inaugural ceremony be damned, you were going back to Nevermore to sleep your problems away. Then, you’ll take it from here. 

In the end, returning to the school to sleep and avoid facing your problems gave you more problems. A few hours later you were standing in Principal Weems’ office alongside Wednesday, getting a lecture about setting Crackstone’s statue on fire. 

“For the hundredth time, I didn’t set fire to that statue!” you pleaded to the principal. 

“And what evidence of your innocence do you have, miss L/N?” snapped Weems back. “Should you have attended the ceremony like you were supposed to, we wouldn’t have this conversation.” 

“I attended this ridiculous ceremony,” noted Wednesday out loud, “yet you’re suspecting me too.” 

She shot a deadly glare at your impassable roommate, “And I have every reason to miss Addams. The two of you had good motives to set this statue on fire, and miss L/N had mysteriously disappeared just before the ceremony.” 

“I wasn’t feeling well that’s all,” you tried to defend yourself. “Do you really think I’d brand myself a witch in front of all of Jericho? Those people hate my guts, I don’t want to have anything to do with their shitty town!” 

Weem’s hand hit her desk with force, “Mind your language, young lady!”

Wednesday only rolled her eyes at the whole ordeal. You on the other hand, were pretty sure she had something to do with it – but unlike you she had a solid alibi. And surprisingly, she stepped in your defense. 

“Y/N is right about not feeling well these days,” she interjected, making both Weems’ head and yours snap to her. “She sometimes coughs in her sleep, this is very unpleasant.”

Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at you, “Is that true, miss L/N? Have you fallen ill?”

You nodded slowly, “Just small flu. Must’ve caught a cold during the Poe cup.” 

The principal looked pointedly at the two of you, breathing hard through her nostril. Then she threw an accusatory finger at your pair.

“I want,” she articulated slowly, “the two of you out of my office. Now. And I don’t want to ever hear about you either.” 

None of you needed to be asked twice. Once in the corridors and far enough from Weems’ office, you turned to Wednesday. 

“Thank you for having my back with Weems,” you said quietly, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“No I didn’t,” she repeated. “I was right, you do cough at night and it is unpleasant.” 

That made you frown slightly. None of your roommates shouldn’t have been able to hear you, you still casted the silencing spell every night. 

“Since when?” 

“About a week,” she said, while narrowing her eyes. 

You started to think hard. It had been far more than a week since you had started to cast the spell. This was basic magic, a simple but efficient spell that you had been practising for years. There was no reason for you to fail it. The only logical explanation…was that your magic was weakening. The natural reaction for your mind would be to list every reason for it not to be possible, but then you thought about the sudden stop of your spell during the Poe cup, which had made your boat stop dead in its tracks; and so it added up. The disease had not only damaged your body, but it had also consequences on your powers. This was definitely concerning. 

“You are indeed sick, aren’t you?” asked Wednesday. At the surprised look on your face, she quickly added, “Don’t think I care, I’m just readjusting your position on my suspects' list by considering all the parameters.”

You scoffed in disbelief “I’m on your suspect list? No shit, Wednesday?”

“It is perfectly plausible,” she said plainly. “With your powers and knowledge in potions, you have the ability to increase your strength I suspect, and you know the school’s grounds by heart,” you heard her listing, “you’ve spent more time alone than usual for the past weeks, with no one to testify of your presence elsewhere than on the crime scenes, and when I started to suspect Xavier you immediately fled to his defence without proof, like you knew for sure he couldn’t be the monster. So tell me Y/N,” she continued while looking at you dead in the eye, “why couldn’t you be the killer?” 

Struck by her question you could only blink in disbelief. What. the. hell? 

“Excuse me what?” you articulated after long seconds of silence. 

“You should be honored,” she said flatly, “it requires some skills to be added to a potential suspect list.” 

“I don’t want to be on a fucking suspect list,” you spat, “you’re delusional Wednesday.” 

“My observations and suppositions are rarely wrong, I’m not the one burying herself in denial.”

Stepping closer to her you gritted your teeth together. “I can’t be the monster, I literally can’t.” 

“What proof do you have of that?” she retorted. 

Fuming, you tried to not play her game. But staying calm in front of her insolent lay back behavior was starting to be incredibly harder. “Drop it,” you spat. 

“You’re just proving me right.”

That’s when you lost it, “I CAN’T BECAUSE I’M FUCKING DYING OKAY?” you roared at her. 

For a moment, nothing but echoes of your words resonated within the corridor’s walls. Your ragged breaths contrasted with Wednesday’s neutral expression, unfazed by your scream. Only after a few seconds of a mortifying silence did you realize what you just did because you had lost your nerves. Shutting your eyes tightly you internally prayed that no one around heard you. 

“I don’t think you’re lying,” simply said Wednesday. 

You let out a scoff, “I’m not, trust me. I’m sick, and my health is deteriorating every day. If you don’t want to believe me that’s fine but leave me the fuck out of your stupid list.” 

She raised an unimpressed eyebrow at you, “Until you’re blessed with black plague, I doubt you’ll die because of whatever sickness you have.”

“God, can you stop being that infuriating for once?” you snapped bitterly. “I’ve done every possible research on the subject and I know I’m doomed, okay?” 

A silence took place between the two of you. You whipped away tears that had gathered at the corner of your eyes. It was the first time you had admitted it out loud ; it hurt more than you thought. 

“I’m sorry to hear about your condition,” said Wednesday quietly ; and now matter how surprised you were by her words, you still thanked her quietly. “Does a cure exist?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you muttered. “It…healing doesn’t depend on me.” At her frown, you lightly shrugged. “Flowers are growing in my lungs because of unrequited romantic feelings,” you explained quietly. “Eventually, I’ll either die from internal bleeding or choking.” 

This time, it was her turn to scoff, “You’re plagued with a deadly disease because you have feelings for someone? You just gave me the final proof that feelings are indeed useless, thank you.”

“I don’t fucking need your sarcasm,” you seethed, “if you want to be a stone-cold bitch that’s on you, but no need to mock me for having actual feelings. I didn’t choose this.” 

She looked at you closely, like she was trying to figure out something. Which she apparently did rather quickly: “It’s Xavier, isn’t it? He’s the one you have…feelings for.” 

You turned your face away, licking your lips. Wednesday was really the last person you wanted to have this conservation with. 

“You’re getting weak and you’re losing your powers because you have feelings for a meaningless man,” she repeated. “I thought you were better than that.”

“Fuck off Wednesday,” you cried, finally reaching your breaking point. “I’m not asking to understand, I’m not even asking you to be compassionate but shit, for once in your life be respectful of someone’s privacy.”

With that, you turned away and rushed into the corridors. You didn’t want to hate Wednesday, she had done nothing to you ; even regarding Xavier’s feelings, you were confident that her arrival hadn’t triggered your condition. Maybe it had accelerated it, but sooner or later Xavier would have fallen in love with someone else, and you would have been doomed anyway. So yeah, you didn’t want to hate Wednesday Addams ; but she definitely didn’t make things easy. 

A little less than an hour later, you found yourself walking through the school’s woods. The heated discussion with Wednesday had strangely given you enough courage to go and find Xavier, and finally explain everything to him. Weakened by your feelings? My ass! you thought. You were going to tell what was going on with you to Xavier, and to hell with the consequences on your friendship. 

You soon reached his artist shed in the middle of the woods. Its reassuring aura made you a little more at ease than the very public space of the Weathervane. Knocking on the door, you waited for Xavier to answer you. When he opened the door, you let out a loud gasp at the wound on his neck. 

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” you asked while pushing him back inside immediately before coming in. You immediately went to take a look at his bleeding jaw, carefully tilting his chin to the side. 

“Just an accident with a painting, nothing too bad,” he tried to reassure you. 

“Nothing bad? Xavier, you have claw marks bleeding on your neck, this isn’t some small scratch!” 

You could see that he was trying to brush it away, but you forced him to sit on a stool while you inspected the extent of his injuries. It didn’t look so bad, you could probably do something about it. Carefully dragging your fingers on the outlines of the claw marks you whispered a healing spell. The bleeding gradually stopped, and the cells of the skin started to slowly repair themselves. Though it started here, and the marks were still here looking like fresh scars. You gritted your teeth in frustration. With the full extent of your powers, you could have probably healed him completely. 

“That should do,” you muttered with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he smiled back. “So,” he said after a few seconds of silence, “guess we need to talk, uh?” 

“Yeah,” you chuckled awkwardly, “guess we do.”

You fidgeted with your sleeve, toying with words in your mind. It was always more difficult to launch a subject when the time had come. 

“I’m not doing well,” you said, trying to resume the discussion where it had been left out back at the Weathervane, “and I’m not sure if I can really get better…on my own.”

Xavier leaned forward, fully focused on the matter. “How can I help you?”

You almost wanted to cry. He wanted so much to help you while having no idea of how bad the situation was. 

“This is…kind of complicated to talk about,” you hesitated. But to your surprise, Xavier gently took your hand into one of his bigger ones. 

“Hey,” he called softly, “you know you can tell me anything, right?” 

After a slight hesitation, you nodded slowly. Yet words didn’t seem to come out of your mouth. You started to open your mouth to finally confess, but something caught your eye. A large canvas hung on an easel, all in black and white tones. Like pulled by the invisible force of curiosity you slowly approached it, your hand slipping away from Xavier’s. As you approached and noticed who was painted you felt your heart sink into your chest. The painted figure of Wednesday playing her cello was taunting you, and it painfully reminded you of that night in Xavier’s room, when he had started to sketch it. It reminded you that you had no chance. 

Xavier called out for you from behind. But when you turned back to him, he was met with the look of your teary eyes. 

“You see, that’s why I can’t tell you,” you whispered sadly, “I can’t spoil this from you.” 

“What are you talking about?” he frowned. 

“This,” you said, gesturing at the portrait, “I can’t ruin your happiness with my burden, Xav.”

“Y/N please,” he said getting up, “please tell me what’s going on.” 

You shook your head, defeated. “I can’t,” you whispered weakly. “Sorry I- I got to go.” 

Before Xavier could react you slipped away and rushed outside of the shed. Tears were running down your cheeks but you couldn’t care less. It was clear that you could never interfere in Xavier’s feelings for Wednesday, so why bother saying anything to him at all? You heard him call you as soon as you had crossed the door but you didn’t dare to turn back and face him. He managed to grab your wrist when you were barely a few meters away from the shed. 

“Please don’t shut me out,” he begged you. You still couldn’t face him on your own, so he gently tucked on your hand, turning you to him. “Please Y/N, tell me what’s going on with you, ‘cause I can guess on my own.” 

Hesitantly, you looked up at him. Even though your eyes were blurry because of tears, you couldn’t help yourself but lose yourself in the admiration of his face. His brown eyes, so deep and full of compassion, his sharp features framed by soft hazel eyes…you wanted to print this image in your mind for however long you had still to live. Just like that night in his room, your eyes flickered to his lips. This time you didn’t hesitate, and you leaned forward and pressed your lips against his. 

He flinched slightly, for the first second. But then he surprised himself thinking how soft your lips felt against his own. 

You stayed like this for long seconds. Keeping your eyes closed and savouring the moment, you then realized that Xavier wasn’t moving at all. Biting back the bitter feeling within your guts, you slowly parted from him. Xavier simply stood up there frozen in place ; not understanding why you had kissed him so suddenly. At his lack of reaction and dumbfounded expression, you wanted to cry again so badly. Instead, you looked up at him.  

“I wanted to do that at least once,” you whispered. No matter how you had tried to keep them at bay, tears were flooding down your cheeks now. 

Still stuck down in place, Xavier didn’t know what to say. But the face of his best friend, teared apart by pain and sadness, was already too much to handle for him. 

“I- I’m sorry Y/N,” he muttered, “I don’t…I like you, I truly do but…but not like this.” 

Through your tears, you tried to smile ; it was a pathetic attempt. “Yeah…I know,” you whispered weakly.

It would have been easier if you had the ability to vanish away on the spot. It would have made you avoid moving away from Xavier and returning to the school painfully slowly, each of your steps burdened by the weight of your broken heart and the knowledge that Xavier hadn’t even tried to stop you. It would also have saved you from running into Wednesday once again, and hearing her asking Xavier out for the ball in the distance. It would have. 

But you couldn’t vanish, instead, you were here shedding every tear you had along bloodied flowers, not even trying to stop either of them. 

You just had your heart shattered into a million pieces and the confirmation that there was no hope for you. You were doomed, and the flowers growing inside of your lungs would soon reach your body’s breaking point.

[Part.5] 

A/N:  Thanks everyone for your incredible support, I hope you enjoyed this part ♥

Hope you’re all doing okay, take care of you ♥

Taglist: 

(no need to ask at every chapter, you're added once, and you're added for the whole fic :D)

@apocalypticnovaa ; @libdarkheart ; @ameliabs-world ; @certifeidlovergirl ; @aeisnoa ; @cat-loves-music ; @coolchick333 ; @eringaitskill  ; @sweaterxav ; @sssleepless ;

@l4venderia ; @persipeoni ; @coldheartedmar ; @chaosfrisur ; @littlebabyk  ; @pinksirensong ; @nushy ; @raribella ; @igotanidea ; @ali-r3n ;

@cafeaueva ; @queenofshinigamis ; @xxhospital-for-soulsxx ; @imtherealslimmoony ; @one-oblivious-nerd ; @amphitritesangels ; @valckenaux ; @aliciahlewis ; @lilsunshine1092 ; @ell0ra-br3kk3r ;

@hershey2813 ; @ahmya-4 ; @katkoosik ; @maggie-da-rat ; @hopelessnessforthehopeful ; @mk-the-great ; @neenieweenie ; @steviesbergthuis  ; @rayliz793 ; @poison-ivy-737  ;

@katiemrty  ; @vanillaarr ;  @corpsebridenightamare ; @ghswlz ; @siriusblacksl0ver ; @poppyalice2001 ; @mypsychoticlove ; @jointherebellion215 ; @siriwhitewolf​ ; @miinnttyy​ ;

@teaganthemorningstar ; @oblivion-void ; @fandomstoryreader25 ; @darkdaydreamer ; @engenelxver ; @maddiechapman15 ; @hannahnikohl ; @pajerita19 ; @i-like-trains ; @tinafuentes ;

@slngarza ; @lqveharrington ; @honethatty12 ; @users09 ; @honestlyka ;

Usernames not found by Tumblr and notified by DM:

@flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo3475 @engenelxver @2000bitf @hes-club

Plz tell me if I’ve forgotten you in the taglist (or if you wanna join!)

[whoahoney]

Based off this lovely thought that got deleted bc my dumbass posted the draft instead of saving it 🥲 anon, I hope this finds you!!! Please tell me if it did 😭💖 this could’ve been a mini series I think but I’m too lazy to spread it out!

Anyway, here’s my rambling imaginings 💖

Warnings: fem!reader, quite a bit of angst, a lot more fluff, some wine drinking and allusions to spice.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You hate to say it, but you’d been dreading this.

The news had been exciting when they found out about the tour. You, too, felt that exhilarating burst of energy hum through the room as the tour manager began the breakdown of the cities they’d see and the venues they’d play.

You’d hardly heard the shouts of joy around you, but you did see Jake’s face. His eyes so wide and bright, his smile stretched so taught across his mouth, his cheeks must’ve ached. You’d never seen him so happy as he threw his arms around Josh, clapping him on the back. Sam and Danny bounced over, already deep in eager conversation about Milan and France.

It was everything they’d been dreaming of.

Everything Jake had been dreaming of.

The four of them were a tight clump, muffled chuckles and words were exchanged as their parents joined in their embrace with pride and tears. Your heart swelled at the sight, being able to be here for it, to watch them celebrate, to see their dreams come true before their very eyes.

A world tour.

They’d just finished their last one, barely even unpacked. And now he’d be gone again.

Your stomach sank heavily, like a rock into quick sand, guilt churning deep within you; how could you be so damn selfish? This is everything he’s ever wanted and you’re thinking about yourself, again.

You keep the smile on your face, your hands knotted in your lap until Karen turned to you, eyes rimmed in red as she wiped at them, “Oh, honey, get on up in here—what are you doin way over there!” She chuckled as you blushed and made your way over to the unwinding arms, the layers of bodies falling away as Jake let go of Josh and looked to you.

One side of his smile hiked up, and you could see he’d clearly shed a few tears of his own as he wiped a fresh track away and passed it off as tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You don’t hesitate to reach for him, chuckling softly when he yanks you into his chest and wraps you up tight.

You breathe him in, and swallow a hiccup—his neck a heady mixture of his warmth, sandalwood, and something deep and spicy that always cut through you. Tonight you clung to it like a safety blanket, thinking of the nights you spent in his bed without him, nose buried in his pillow as you tried not to cry like a lovesick fool.

“It’s really happening.” He whispers against your hair, running a tender hand down the back of your head.

You nod, “Better believe it, rockstar. You deserve every bit of it.” You squeeze him a little tighter before pulling back, already feeling the swell of emotions brewing within you.

For the rest of the visit with the managers and family, you sat quietly next to Jake, his arm slung around you holding you close, his other hand on your knee. He noted how tightly your legs were crossed and how you picked at your nails unflinchingly, not much to be heard from you.

Jake knew he didn’t need words from you to know you were okay, but every bit of his intuition told him something was up. He’d worried about leaving you alone so much. About how tiresome it must have gotten to be in a relationship over the phone for the last 8 months. Even missing your first anniversary while he was in Chicago.

He wondered if maybe your feelings were fading, that maybe he’d thought wrong about claiming all life had to offer him—that he couldn’t have both love and fame no matter how many times he convinced himself that maybe it’d work with the right person, and he was well passed sure that he’d found that person in you.

“—But until then, you guys are free. So use these next couple months to your advantage!” Aaron clapped and rubbed his hands together, eager for the next time they would hit the ground running.

Jake shoots you a familiar glance, his eyes asking, ‘are you ready to go?’

You nod and stand with him, bidding the family a good night before you were in Jake’s car headed back to his house.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The ride was quiet, almost tense. Jake thought maybe you were biding your time, wanting to be careful with your words and say the right thing as you always did. His chest tensed and he turned up the radio, so maybe the pressure to say something wouldn’t be so bad.

You were thankful for the Jefferson Airplane coming through the speakers, Today lulling you into a hazy calm as you stared out the window at the dark tree line. Jake snuck a glance at you every once in a while, trying to figure you out in a way he never had to before.

When you reach the long driveway and park, he turns to you expectantly. Your eyes dart away from his, scanning the car for anything else to look at besides his pretty face that made you wanna crumple like old paper.

“What?” You ask barely over a whisper.

“That’s what I’m wondering, myself.” He says casually, running his index finger down your cheek. “Talk to me.” He says softly.

You swallow and shake your head insistently, “Nothing, babe, I’m just tired. S’been an exciting day.” You chuckle and meet his eye with a soft smile that told him you were okay. You kissed his palm that now cradled your cheek before he could ask anymore questions. “That’s all.” You assure.

Jake nods and swipes his thumb across your cheek one more time before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours chastely—once, twice, three times, before pulling back and appraising you.

“Let’s get inside.” He whispered, suggesting a hot shower as you open your door and comically rush ahead of him just to hear his boisterous laughter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It hadn’t been long since Jake had fallen asleep, his hair still damp from when you washed it for him, bergamot and rosemary shampoo the two of you shared lingered in the air around you. The light of the moon kissed his nose, his blanket tucked up over his shoulder. He was always beautiful, but when he slept he looked prettier than a Grecian bust.

You couldn’t sleep no matter how tired you got, and staring at the object of both your affection and agony wasn’t helping. You snuck out of bed, pulling on the cozy robe he’d gotten you the first night you stayed with him, and made off to the living room with your phone.

You’d become quite familiar with the space despite not getting to share much time with Jake in it. He’d asked you to take care of the plants and his cat, Percy, reminding you to send him pictures and updates whenever you were over there.

Really, he just wanted to see you in his house like it was your own. When you sent him snapchats looking all cute and sleepy in his bed, it did more for him than he thought possible. He’d told you to sleep on his side so that when he got home his sheets would smell like you, and you had no objections to his request.

Since the start of Dreams in Gold, you’d practically lived here, waiting for him to come home.

Your steps were light and slow as you crept down the hall, the quiet chatter of the forgotten TV was directed around a beautiful Asian dish being made on the screen. A single lamp was lit and the orange glow filled the room and part of the kitchen.

You spy your AirPods on the island and plop down in a chair at the counter, another soft light just barely illuminating the kitchen, emanating beauty and nocturnal comfort.

You tuck an earbud into your ear and open your music, trying to piece together the genre that would make the ache go away, nothing too slow or sad, nothing too loud— and then it hit you with a small smile.

You search up the 50s Greats playlist and hit shuffle, sighing in content when the sound of Unchained Melody began. Your mind went peacefully blank, and you laid your head on top of your folded arms.

And then you spotted the wine fridge.

The idea sounded lovely, a glass of fancy red to make you sleep? Yes please.

You tucked the other ear bud in and went about pouring yourself a generous amount of drink in a long stemmed glass Jake brought back from a vineyard he doesn’t remember visiting.

You took a generous gulp and tried not to gag at the bitter taste. It burned all the way down but not with a bite, a slow bitter curl coated your tongue and throat, insisting on more and more to be drunk.

So you do, and finish the glass before tucking your knees to your chest.

Your head was heavy, and just as Can’t Take My Eyes Off You begins, you notice the cooling tears that had fallen down your cheeks unknowingly. You sniffle and then hiccup, twisting your empty glass and considering a refill as Jake shuffled out of the hallway, his pants slung low on his hips and his shirt missing.

He rubbed his eyes and squinted around the room, spotting you after you sniffled again from your place balled up in the chair, your face buried in your knees.

“Hey…” he whispers, not noticing your headphones until he wraps his arms around you and you jump with a yelp. You rip out your AirPod and face him with flooded eyes, in the midst of your cry. “Baby!” He coos in surprise, “What’s wrong?” He pulls you back into his chest, his fingertips at work against your scalp.

You shake your head, “I… I-It was just a bad dream. I’m okay, I promise.” You sniffle, staring at his chest and not his face. His hands cupped your chin and made you meet his eye.

“Look at me.” He said with quiet and loving firmness. You lock eyes with him and take a deep breath through your mouth as he does. “I know you haven’t been to sleep.” He said knowingly. You close your eyes in embarrassment. “I need you to tell me what’s wrong…” he whispered, “—Before I start making assumptions.” He finished as if he hadn’t already formed them from the moment he saw your face at the studio meeting.

You stare at him for a moment, your tipsy brain swimming with swollen emotions and bruised self image.

“Everything.” You whisper before shaking your head, “And absolutely nothing. Truly.” You clamp your eyes shut in confusion. “It’s gonna be fine though.” You assure quietly, both yourself and him.

Jake puts a hand on your shoulder, keeping the other on your face. “Is this about the tour?” He asked quieter than before, his tone void of emotion.

You hesitate before you nod, and he mirrors you when he sees your answer, and you feel fear strike through you like a crack of thunder. He tsks and you feel his fingers squeeze your shoulder before rubbing it lovingly, “Whatever you’re thinking… I just want you to know… whatever you want, I want too.” He said directly into your eyes.

Your brows pinch before you shake your head, “What?”

He shakes his head and casts his gaze low, his mouth flat and eyes still empty, like a stone wall was put up to guard the windows you’d so easily peered into before. Was he angry? Was this what it looked like for him?

“I should’ve thought about what it would mean for you— me being gone all the time.” He said lowly. “I don’t blame you for getting tired of it, I really don’t.”

“It’s not that I’m tired of it, Jake.” You finally say. His eyes find yours again and you place the AirPod in your hand on the counter to cradle his face as he had done yours, “I love seeing your dreams come true. You are magic out there, baby—I will never get tired of hearing all the stories you have or the feeling I get when you call me on the road.” You ramble, thinking out loud more than anything.

“I’m just… scared.” You realize. Jake flinches back a little in confusion, “—scared of everything the world has to offer you—Everything I don’t have—it’s out there. And you have every opportunity imaginable, now. And yeah, I miss you like crazy, and I get bummed when I realize I’m watching your life happen through a phone screen, but I love seeing you happy even more than missing out makes me sad.” You shake your head emphatically.

Your phone lights up and Jake catches a glimpse of the album currently playing and forgotten in the AirPods. Jake looks back at you and picks up the loose ear bud, tucking it in his ear before reaching for your phone and unlocking it.

You chuckle in disbelief, tears still rolling down your face as he scrolls through the playlist and selects We Belong Together by Los Lobos and sets the phone back down, adjusting the volume with his slick smile that told you everything was about to be fine.

“The world?” He asks as he pulls you to your feet and places his hands around your waist. You drape your arms around his shoulders as you’d done countless times before and waited for him to continue, “I have it. Right here.” His fingers worked under the back of your shirt to graze your skin lovingly.

You scoff as he begins to sway you both side to side, his eyes boring into yours with unwavering confidence in his words. “I’m serious.” He says before releasing one hand from you and raising the other to have you spin, which you obliged with an adoring eye roll.

“You say that now, but—“

“No, no buts.” He shakes his head and begins swaying you again, “I don’t care what’s out there when I already have everything I’ve ever wanted right here at home with me.” He pulled you close and kissed your neck, the affection sending more tears prickling at your eyes and a wistful sigh

“Jake—“

“Shhh…” he whispered in your ear, tucking your head into his shoulder, “You’re mine. And I’m yours.” He said. “Nothings going to change that. Not as long as you want to be with me.” He stroked your back reassuringly as more tears fell down your cheeks.

“I always want to be with you.” You whisper pathetically, letting your forehead thunk against his chest.

You feel him chuckle against you before he kisses your head, “And I with you.” He says like a guy with a plan before he spins you, smiling at your own sleepy smile and closed eyes as you begin dancing with him properly, hips swaying and bare feet shuffling across the cold tile floor.

You giggle, “I can’t believe you like me that much.”

Jake snickers at your flushed skin, happy to see you so light after the heaviness that followed you today. He missed you. This.

Jake loved dancing with you. Whenever a song called to him, he was quick to sweep you up in a waltz and relish every smile or giggle he could pull out of you. When you started staying the night with him, you guys would take turns playing music, which quickly evolved into Jake playing beautiful melodies he said reminded him of you, songs he’d heard and longed to share with you in a close dance.

To think of it, everything made him think of you, he realized as he swayed with you in his arms. “More than you know.” He mumbled, spinning you one more time before wrapping you up and resting his head against yours, singing the rest of the song in his low velvety voice.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There were only two weeks left til the band left for tour.

After your conversation with Jake things felt better. The dread hadn’t loomed over you like you assumed it would, and things with Jake were as good as ever, no holds barred anymore. You were quick to tell him your thoughts and feelings, even more so now than you had before, and seemingly, so had Jake.

You worried you’d lose that once he left, though. That it would be something you had to work and build at when you’d get back together.

During Dreams in Gold, you made three shows, and got two weeks with him in the middle of the tour, uninterrupted—which was nice! But it was different than seeing him every day and falling asleep next to him at night.

Today, you were at the studio to go over more details and itinerary for the first leg of performances in the states.

You and Jake showed up only 20 minutes late with matching iced coffees, Sam scoffing when he saw you didn’t bring him one of his own.

“This is what I get for being here on time!” He flopped into the couch and looked at Danny, who was just reentering the room, “They got Scooters!”

Danny’s eyes widened, “That’s so uncool.” He playfully seethed before whipping out his phone and muttering something about delivery and a cookie.

Jake obnoxiously slurps the emptying drink with eyes locked on Sam’s. Sam lurches to his feet and storms over to his brother to snatch the empty cup and throw it in the trash. “Not on my watch.”

Wordlessly you hand Jake yours, still half full, for him to take a sip just as Josh strode in. “I made it! Can we get a time stamp?” He asked the room around him.

“It’s 9:37, Josh.” Aaron marked from the other side of the room as he prepared itemized sheets for everyone. Josh nods with an easy smile. “We were due to meet at 9:00.” Aaron amended, wiping the smug smile off Josh’s face.

“Oh. Well, we’re all here now, right? Let’s start! Whatcha got for us?” Josh leaned on the table and listened intently.

The group gathered around the table and took a look at the papers in front of them, getting handed your own with your name at the top for whatever reason. You miss the expectant look from Jake and Aaron but you read the pages carefully, seeing where this adventure would take Jake this time.

Back through the states, most he’d seen before, and then the countries— the Netherlands, Germany, Ireland, Spain, Portugal— places you’d dreamed of seeing long before you dreamed of Jake Kiszka.

You sigh, softly and dreamily as Aaron talks transport for their European leg; plane rides and first class tickets, excursions to the Louvre and Stonehenge, and lodging and hostels.

“Is the little place we have for our week in France the same one we used for that little getaway we took a couple years ago?” Sam asked with excitement.

Aaron nodded as did Jake, “Yep! Oh, Jake, I put you guys in the empress suite like you asked. I’m still waiting on confirmation at two of the other hotels, but you guys should be set with a master suite wherever we’re staying.” The manager looked from Jake to you as he spoke, your confusion stirring, was there a mistake? Are he and Josh sharing rooms?

Jake looks to you with expectant eyes, as if waiting for your thoughts. He smiles and nudges your shoulder when you don’t answer, “What do you think?”

“About what?” The group breaks into laughter as you look at Jake for an explanation.

“About coming with me.” He took your hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. You softly gasped and looked over the papers in front of you again, your own agenda highlighted in orange for when the band would be busy.

You look back at him in awe, “Really?” Is all you can muster in a ghost of your voice.

Jake smiled and nodded quickly, “Yeah, of course—I’m tired of leaving you.” He covered your hand with his. “Say you’ll come.”

You nod before you can speak and then kiss him right on the mouth. “I wanna be wherever you are.” You say with a cheek aching smile, a real one stretched wide across your face.

“And I, you.” He agreed, though he knew his words could never convey how much he shared the feeling.

But hopefully… the other surprises he had planned for the tour can say it for him…

-

-

[steddieas-shegoes]

Could you do something like Eddie needing to go to hospital for some minor injury or illness and Steve just having a complete trauma response of oh god last time he was in hospital he nearly died (and wayne being the one to reassure him bc we love uncle wayne in this household)

I must live in the same household as you because I include Wayne in things just to have him be supportive even when it doesn’t make sense to the story 😎

“It’s just a quick trip.”

Wayne was trying to reassure Steve. Trying being the key word.

Eddie was asleep, as he had been for most of the last three days.

His fever was getting higher instead of lower and he hadn’t been able to keep any food down for more than two of the last three days.

His water intake had gone nonexistent, too.

He was pale and sweaty, but visibly shivering anytime Steve looked at him.

It was probably just a really bad flu, but it didn’t help that he’d only been out of the hospital for four months and was still technically recovering from bat bites and nearly bleeding out.

“But what if it’s not?”

Wayne looked at him sadly.

“Son, he just needs some fluids and maybe some better meds than I can get at the drug store without a prescription. He’ll be feeling a bit better within a few hours if we take him.”

“But-“

“Steve. I promise I won’t let nothin’ happen to our boy, okay?”

Steve felt his heart clench at the words.

Sometimes he forgot that Wayne almost lost his only family, his son in all ways but genetics.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

“Think you can carry him to the truck?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie woke up twice on the way, trying his best to give Steve a smile, but failing miserably.

When they brought him back to get an IV started, Wayne went with him, but Steve had to wait in the waiting room.

Wayne kept checking in, though, letting him know every 30 minutes how things were going.

He was grateful that Eddie had someone like him.

He was grateful he had someone like him.

Four hours later, Wayne was walking out the double doors with Eddie, who was able to stand, but not support himself.

An improvement is still an improvement, though.

“Eds, feeling a little better?”

“Feel like a million bucks. No need to worry.”

Which is what he said when he woke up after his week-long coma.

Steve burst into tears and Wayne gently smacked Eddie on the head.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“What?!”

“Let’s get you home before Steve ends up havin’ a breakdown in the waiting room.”

Luckily, they made it home before Steve really did break completely down.

But at least this time Eddie was awake and holding his hand, talking to him like nothing was wrong.

[honeykngdom]

the caretaker | iruka umino

Pairing: Iruka Umino x 19+f!reader Synopsis: It's particularly rainy that Sunday morning. You have places to be, and the rain certainly wasn't going to stop you - a pothole in the road might, however. How embarrassing, now you're late and wet. Oh, God, please tell me you didn't see that? WC: N/A - nothing but fluff. Word Count: 5.5k A/N: tbh I fell in love with the idea of iruka being soft and taking care of me, so I decided to write something to fulfil my own need since I couldn't find anything to scratch that itch. Reader is a Sarutobi bc the plot required it. If you liked reading my work, please know my requests are open & I offer taglists for new content I post! :)

Read part two here!

It was raining outside. Under any other circumstance, Iruka wouldn’t have minded. Except that it was cold, and wet, and it was Halloween. And normally, Iruka didn’t have arrangements for Halloween, so the terrible forecast wouldn’t have been a concern – except that he did this year, and the rain was impeding on those particular plans. 

For the last two years, Halloween landed on a school day. For the most part, he was bogged down with lending an additional hand after class. In prior years, he didn’t bother to celebrate the holiday simply because he hadn’t had the time. It appeared that wasn’t a sufficient answer for Master Jiraiya. 

The Sannin arrived in town just the night prior after a gruelling month of training with Naruto; he was dining at Ichiraku’s with Kakashi and Asuma. They feasted on ramen while Iruka listened to the tales of their various training. He was always impressed as a teacher of the Academy to listen to the growth and strength that students of his past accomplished in their own personal endeavours. Especially with Naruto. The boy was an enigma, Iruka decided, one he was keen on rooting for. 

But no amount of compliments to Jiraiya and his masterful work with Naruto could spare Iruka from the dreaded conversation; what was going on for the holiday in the village? Iruka all but hung his head in his ramen bowl as the conversation around him ensued. It was unsurprising that Kakashi knew the goings-on of celebrations within the village; the man knew everything about everyone, for the most part. Asuma, not unlike Iruka, also didn’t typically partake in the festivities, but appeared rather intrigued at the prospect of joining his fellow comrades in a night of fun. 

Iruka tried to avoid it; he was busy grading, preparing next week's lessons, and watering his plants – to no avail. Jiraiya all but insisted that Iruka join them for the evening. No if, ands, or buts about it. This brought Iruka to his current predicament. Not only did he have plans for the evening, it was also pouring with rain. 

He watched the puddles from his perch on his small balcony attached to his second story apartment. The streets were painted a dark grey from the moisture, curbsides overflowing with an ongoing stream that seemed to come from and go nowhere in particular. The tea in his hand was far from serving its purpose of keeping him warm, which was a pity, given it was the last of his favourite herbal blend. Iruka signed petulantly, circling the remainder of the cup's contents in a slow motion.

When he heard the yelp, he nearly leaped from where he stood to the sound. Looking up to search the street once again, he noticed the laying figure of a young woman. From the way her wicker basket sat several feet away from her, Iruka determined she must have fallen in her travel. He watched her for a few moments, noticing that she was slow to rise to her feet. Ultimately, he decided if anything, he needed to ensure she wasn’t injured. 

In your rush to make it to your aunt’s get together in time, you had stupidly forgotten to securely fasten one of the ankle straps on your rollerblades. Under normal conditions, it wouldn’t have proven to be too much of a problem; but when you’re speeding down the road and forget about the pothole just on the left hand side, it certainly can be. 

You probably should’ve moved. You were in the middle of the street, after all. Sure, it was raining and there was likely no one coming that you could be a bother too, but nonetheless. You were laying in the dirty street. In a puddle. And you’re pretty sure your ankle would begin to swell just about any moment. 

“Just great,” you muttered to yourself, unable to contain your annoyance any longer. It was nothing but obstacles since your eyes opened that morning. You ran out of your favourite tea blend, and in your search of finding something new to pair with your morning eggs, you burnt the last of them. You had no hot water when you went to shower – something that now seemed futile, given that your hair was soaked in rain water and mud. And, you were running late.

You heard the slam of a door followed by the approach of footsteps. You turned slowly, using your arms to push yourself up off the ground with a groan. 

“Are you alright?” 

Looking up, a gentleman stood above you with an umbrella in one hand and the other stretched out as an offer of help. He looked so comfortable in his training pants and turtleneck – comfortable and dry. You went to grab the hand he held out, and grimaced when you noticed the scrapes across your palm mixed with pieces of gravel. 

“I’ve been better.” You conceded, brushing your hands across your pants as soon as you were standing upright. You noted a tear in the knee in one pant leg and frowned. “Thank you for coming to help me, though.” You turned to the man that was now bent over and collecting the various items that had fallen from your basket. Oh, no – the taiyaki! “My desserts!” 

Rolling forward to grab the basket, the movement of your weight from one leg to the next sent a shooting pain throughout the entirety of your ankle and up the front of your leg. With a short cry, you went to collapse to the ground again, but found yourself caught by a pair of firm hands. 

“Woah, easy! I think it’d be best if you get that ankle checked out.” Iruka felt horrible. There was something about the way your face broke at the sight of your soaked taiyaki that made him feel all the more guilty, although he hadn’t the faintest clue why he would. “Those are death traps you have strapped to your feet.” 

You shot a look up at him. “They are not!” 

“That so?” Iruka’s brow lifted in challenge, slowly removing his grip from your arms to allow you to steady yourself on your own feet. From the look of pain that pulled your brows together, he had proven his point. “It should be looked at.” 

You sighed petulantly. Looking up at him now that the umbrella was situated over both of you, you allowed your brain a moment to register the man standing in front of you. You knew Iruka. You were only a few years his junior, so the pair of you never shared a class or completed any training together. But he was a familiar face, and a friendly one at that. 

“I appreciate the concern, Iruka. But I’m actually running late.” 

“I don’t think you understand,” he began, shaking his head slowly as he explained, “you’re not going to make it very far in this condition, and certainly not in this weather. Aren’t you in pain?” 

Of course I’m in pain, you thought coarsely. “I promised my nephew taiyaki, I’m bringing him taiyaki.” 

Iruka paused. As much as he wanted to argue that it was imperative you seek medical attention, he could appreciate that you felt you had a duty to fulfil. He often felt that same sense of duty when tending to his students. He took a moment to assess the situation, gnawing on the inside of his cheek while he processed. 

“For Halloween?” 

You nodded your head. “It’s his favourite holiday, and I love that he loves all things scary. I make him taiyaki every year and we eat it after we carve pumpkins.” 

Iruka fell into silence again; the two of you stood under the shared umbrella surrounded by the pouring rain with your basket full of the ruined dessert hanging between the two of you in your hands. If you weren’t soaked to the bone, and your ankle wasn’t screaming with pain, it might have otherwise been quite a pleasant little moment. 

Finally, Iruka spoke with an even and controlled tone. “I think it would be a good idea if you let someone take a look at your ankle. Besides, you can’t bring these to Konohamaru,” he held up one of the fish-shaped waffles between his fingers, “he’ll just come to the Academy tomorrow and tell everyone all about it. Do you want all the other youth to hear about how your taiyaki was soggy?” 

Could this be considered blackmail? You wondered, skeptically eyeing him. Probably not. But he was making a good case, unfortunately. 

“If I go to the clinic now, I can kiss the rest of my day goodbye.” 

Iruka paused, pursing his lips together in a firm line; then he sighed. “I can take a look at your ankle for you.” 

This time, you hesitated. You watched him for a long moment, searching his face for any indicator that he might be just saying that for the sake of being polite; but from where you stood, he appeared nothing if not sincere. While you didn’t entirely love the prospect of letting Iruka see your foot, there was still the matter of your wet clothing. 

You grimaced. “I’m not sure.” 

“At most, it’s probably a sprain. You can ice it for a bit and then I’ll wrap it for you.” He replied, his face remaining calm and even. 

You looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. “I’m going to drag mud in.” 

Iruka sighed. “Are you always this stubborn when offered help?” 

You almost laughed. “Unfortunately. Bad habit, I guess.”

“How about this: I’ll help get you back home, that way you can change into something dry and then we can set you up with a temporary fix for your foot.”

Admittedly, that was a better option. The feeling of your pants clinging to your body from the rain was beginning to irritate you greatly, and you were itching to get out of these clothes. “Okay, that’s not a horrible idea.” 

Iruka lifted the corner of his mouth in a half-grin, shifting the umbrella from one hand to the next. “Do you think you can manage if you hold onto me?” 

You shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out.” 

The pair of you only made it to the top of the hill and around the corner before you halted entirely and shook your head. If you lived closer, it may have been feasible, but you still had another eight minutes to go. No chance you’d make it. After another five minutes of arguing, Iruka opted to pull you onto his back. It was decided that it was the easiest option to get you back to your apartment without putting further strain on your ankle, all while keeping you both safe from the rain. 

The short walk back to your home was quiet. Iruka needed to use both hands to hold you steady, leaving you in charge of keeping the umbrella upright and over the both of you. Sometime along the way, you became increasingly aware that you were soaking his clothing with your own — something you felt terribly for. You wanted to apologize for it, but you knew Iruka would shrug it off. Always the gentleman. 

“Here, let me help you.” Iruka knelt down once you were safely concealed inside your apartment. Remnants of your baking clung to the air and the space was still warm. You watched as the man’s fingers worked to undo the straps on your rollerblades; you quickly placed a hand on the wall beside you to steady yourself when he loosened the laces. “Can you step out of them?” 

Albeit painful, you did manage to remove your feet and place them flat on the floor. Iruka placed your rollerblades next to a pair of sneakers you had just to the left of your front door, then stood and immediately began removing his own footwear. 

“Do you own a tensor bandage?” He inquired, placing his jacket on the hook next to the one you had opted to leave at home just twenty short minutes ago. 

“Somewhere in the bathroom,” you pointed to the door across the way. 

Iruka nodded once. “I’ll go look for it. You find something dry to change into.” 

He left you where you stood and made his way across your tiny studio to where the bathroom was. He shut the door behind him, offering you a moment of privacy; it was when the door was closed and you were alone that you finally took a moment to process what was happening. 

Six years ago, you would have simply died to have Iruka hold you close, in any regard. Thankfully, you no longer felt like your tongue was swollen every time he happened to say hello when passing by in the streets. Overtime, the silly school-girl crush dissipated into respect - a mutual respect. You weren’t entirely sure when it happened. Maybe after Konohamaru started at the academy. 

Not wanting to waste any more time, you quickly rummaged through your closet for a pair of clean joggers and a matching sweater. Peeling the rain-soaked jeans from your legs was the least enjoyable part of the process, but one you were grateful for. The flesh of your thighs were so cold it felt as though it was being pricked by thousands of tiny needles. 

By the time Iruka exited out of the bathroom, you were pulling your sweater over your head. He found the tensor bandage and was stretching it out between his hands, his eyes lifting up to meet yours from across the space. “You look more comfortable.” He smiled. 

“I am,” you conceded with a nod and a smile in return, “thank you for getting me home. I’m sure you have better things to be doing with your afternoon.”

Iruka chuckled and shook his head. “No bother at all.” The man appeared sincere, coming to sit down next to you on the tiny loveseat nestled at the foot of your bed. He pursed his lips together tightly and patted his meaty thigh twice. “Alright, let’s take a look.” 

Removing the sock from your foot was the last thing you had wanted to do, but it couldn’t be put off any longer. You gave a quiet sigh, then reached down to slip the material of your sock away from your foot. Iruka helped guide your ankle into place on his leg; he then spent a few moments surveying the tenderness, his fingers gently touching along the swollen area. He kissed his teeth, offering a slight ‘tut’. 

“I think you may need something to help bring the swelling down.” He finally decided.

“I’ve got a bottle of painkillers up there.” You sighed, pointing over to the cabinets above your stove. “There’s also a bag of frozen vegetables in the freezer, could you grab it for me?” 

Iruka was quick to retrieve the items; he filled a small glass with some tap water and made his way back over to the loveseat to sit next to you. He set two tablets into the palm of your hand and watched you throw them into the back of your mouth before he handed you the water to swallow them down. When he was sure you had taken them, he took the glass from your hand and placed it on the table in front of him before gingerly placing the frozen bag of peas over your ankle. 

You couldn’t help but still feel embarrassed. Surely he had better things to do with his Sunday than play caretaker for you. “I’m so sorry.” 

Surprised, Iruka looked over at you. “What are you apologizing for?”

You shrugged once. “This definitely isn’t the best way to spend an afternoon, let alone your Halloween.”

The smile that Iruka flashed at you was warm and comforting. “Trust me, this is more up my alley than going out to celebrate.” 

You rolled your eyes. That felt hard to believe. “What, you don’t go out with Asuma and the others?”

This time, it was Iruka who looked embarrassed. He brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck in a guilty manner, his eyes slipping closed as his cheeks lifted in an innocent smile. “I have a great deal of respect for your brother,” he admitted, “but Jiraiya can certainly be a little enthusiastic. Large gatherings aren’t exactly my idea of a good time.” 

You blinked twice, then snorted. “Are you scared of the jōnin, Iruka?” 

“Absolutely not!”

“Master Jiraiya’s enthusiasm is not a good enough excuse to opt out of Halloween,” you retorted. 

Iruka sighed. “What if I say something stupid?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh again. What a silly thing to be worried about, given that your older brother had his own fair share of stupidity. However, you also knew that Asuma also held most people at arm's length at all times, and so the remainder of the village didn’t have the privilege of knowing the Asuma that your family did. For the most part, he was rough around the edges; most certainly the suffer in silence type. But over the last few years during his budding relationship with Kurenai, another side of him began to make its appearance. Someone softer, more tender. 

“If that’s what you’re worried about, don’t.” You lamented. “People say stupid things when they’re halfway through a bottle of sake.” 

The man next to you seemed to visibly relax. “I suppose you’re right.” 

“Besides, if Master Jiraiya invited you, then you’d ought to be there. I don’t really think anyone in the village turns down a request from one of the Legendary Sannin.”

Iruka seemed to consider this. Admittedly, he would never let it be known that he just simply didn’t care for the antics of the holiday. In his youth, Halloween was the perfect day to plan for. He’d spend hours upon hours pulling together the most elaborate pranks; as responsibility came to the forefront, Iruka found that he spent less and less time giving a second thought about trivial things like holiday celebrations. Not having a family to celebrate with may have also played a part in that. 

“What about you?”

Confused, you replied, “What about me?” 

“Do you have any plans for the evening?” Iruka inquired, quickly followed by: “I mean, apart from trying to deliver moist desserts to a poor unsuspecting child?” 

“To be fair, Konahamaru is expecting them.” You couldn’t help but snicker at his words. He was teasing you, and despite the fact the pair of you had not engaged in a steady conversation in almost four years, Iruka teasing you felt natural. As though he had been doing it his whole life. “But no, no plans. I probably would’ve been home after spending the afternoon with him and spent the evening watching a bad thriller and eating leftovers.” 

“That doesn’t sound like an awful time.” He lied. Did she do this every year? Understandably, bringing sweets to your nephew seemed like a wholesome tradition – returning home like a hermit to indulge in the most basic and mundane of activities? 

Well, Iruka couldn’t really judge. If he had it his way, he would be staying home tonight. Glancing down at your iced ankle, he decided if he was lucky enough, he could maybe weasel his way out of it.

You shrugged. “Not as fun as hanging out with my brother, I suppose.” 

Iruka tensed, lifting his hand to the back of his neck to scratch the area lightly. It was still damp with rain from outside, but he was no longer cold. Actually, he noticed it was quite warm inside your studio. “Can I ask you a favour?” 

“Anything.” It came out embarrassingly fast. You hoped he couldn’t see the heat creeping up your neck. 

He appraised you for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nevermind. I couldn’t ask that of you.”

You decided not to press it any further; truthfully, you were a little annoyed. Now you were curious. What had he wanted to ask you? “I think I should probably wrap it now.” 

Iruka nodded, dutifully tending to your ankle. Using both hands, he gently guided your foot from the table to his lap; he spent time examining the wound closely before unravelling the tensor bandage. He began at the base of your foot, then slowly brought it up in careful motions around your swollen ligament. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he tucked the loose end of the bandage into one of the loops and repositioned the bag of frozen vegetables over your ankle. 

“I appreciate you helping me,” you said after a moment. Admittedly, everything that happened to you up until this point should have had you in tears of frustration — nothing had gone right. Yet, from the moment Iruka joined you outside in the rain to offer you a helping hand, the anger began to melt away. Now, the only thing weighing on your mind was the fact Konohamaru would go his first Halloween in six years without you and your shared desserts. “It’s nice to have a friend.”

It sounded so foreign coming from your mouth, but you were sincere. 

“I won’t keep you any longer.” You said suddenly, feeling silly for not sending him off sooner. “Wouldn’t want to keep Jiriya waiting, would you?” 

Iruka sighed. “I suppose.” He was slow to move, staring down at his hands that rested in his lap for a few moments longer before he turned towards your body. “I have a few hours before I’m expected anywhere, and I think I should make sure you get something to eat first.”

“Iruka, I’m fine.” You assured him. 

The man nodded in agreement, but remained seated. “I hear you, I just think Asuma may think differently of me if I were to head out without making sure you were set for the rest of the evening. What kind of a man would I be if I left you now?” He said it nonchalantly, but there was a heavy insinuation behind his words. 

You sighed, “I highly doubt Asuma would care.”

Iruka looked pointedly at you, “Would Asuma do it?” He asked, waiting patiently for your answer. When you lowered your eyes to the table in front of you, the man next to you chuckled and nodded in satisfaction. Because he was right – Asuma wouldn’t have left anyone’s side without ensuring they had everything they needed. You chalked it up to the way you were raised; your father had been an attentive man, and your brother seemed to be following in his footsteps. “That’s what I thought.” 

Unwilling to argue with him, you accepted defeat and leaned back into the cushions of your sofa. “Fine. If you feel you must,” you grumbled lowly, trying to sound annoyed albeit unsuccessfully – Iruka appeared amused – and folded your arms indignantly across your chest, “what were you thinking?” 

The man simply smiled, pushing himself off the sofa to wander over to the pantry just next to your fridge. He spent a few moments browsing through the various items you had leftover in your fridge and cupboard, compiling a batch of ingredients onto the countertops. 

He paused after a while, a sound of displeasure breaking the silence. “No eggs?” 

Guilty, you sunk lower into the pillows. “I used my last two this morning.” 

Iruka looked over his shoulder to where you sat. He didn’t appear to appreciate that answer, and after shutting the fridge door, he made his way over to where he had left his shoes by your front door. 

“Where are you going?” You asked, embarrassed by how quickly it had come from your lips. 

He looked over to you again, his expression blank as he responded. “Heading to the market, I need eggs.” 

You looked over to where your bag sat at his feet and sat up. “I have some change in the front pocket —”

Iruka held up his hand to stop you. “Nonsense, I’ve got it.”

Iruka looked so out of place standing in the middle of your tiny kitchen. He towered over the top of the fridge, needing to bend considerably in order to investigate its contents. His shoulders and back flexed with every movement; you found yourself mesmerized as he diligently diced the veggies into fine slices, absolutely enamoured with the current visual taking place. Admittedly, you never wanted it to end. For a moment, you allowed yourself to live in delusion. Having Iruka up close and personal like this made you long for something more permanent. 

An hour later, Iruka set down a large bowl overflowing with a heaping pile of steaming deliciousness. “Tantanmen is served!” 

You watched as he sat down across from you, noting the way he left his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and kept the apron around his waist. It was amusing to see Iruka so domestic; you only knew him as a prankster growing up, and in his later years, as a dutiful and dedicated teacher. To see him in any other light was strange, and yet, still refreshing. 

“It looks incredible,” you couldn’t lie even if you wanted to. The scents that now filled your apartment had you practically drooling by the time dinner was ready. 

“I wasn’t sure how much spice you could handle, so I went a little easy on yours.” He admitted, watching you intently as you took the first bite. When you closed your eyes and hummed in delight, his mouth broke open into a wide-toothed grin. 

“It’s delicious.” You claimed, happily digging in for a second bite. “Wish I could cook like this.”

“Asuma doesn’t bother to teach you?” He inquired. 

You shrugged. “When we were younger, sure. But, it’s been sixteen years since our mom died. I can’t imagine he remembers all of her recipes.” 

Iruka hesitated with his next question. “Do you remember much of her? Your mom?” 

“No.” You frowned, pushing the noodles around in the broth. “I was six when she was killed. Most of any memories that I have of her include watching her practice medical ninjutsu, more so when Kushina was pregnant.” 

“That’s right,” Iruka nodded, “I had forgotten Biwako was one of Kushina’s midwives.” 

You sat back, staring down into your bowl of ramen. “Seems like so long ago, when you consider everything.” 

The man pursed his lips, watching you quietly for a moment before he leaned forward onto the table. “Do you ever think about following in her footsteps?” 

You smiled, mostly to yourself. “Sometimes. I’m a fair kunoichi, don’t get me wrong. I’m just not sure if maternal practice is the best suited for me.” 

Iruka nodded. “You mean that you prefer to be in the field.”

You shrugged sheepishly, meeting his gaze. “I blame Asuma for that. Reckless as he is, he may as well have his own team of medical-kunoichi.” You sighed deeply, dropping your eyes. “Not that I’ve been out in a while. Since my old man died, well . . .” you trailed off, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“No one thinks any less of you, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’d like to say I believe you,” you mumbled dryly, “but people treat me differently now that he’s gone. Not bad, but almost like they feel bad for me. Like I need their pity.” 

Iruka folded his arms on the table, “I hardly think anyone pity’s you. You’re a Sarutobi, for God’s sake.”

“Sure feels like it.” Now you just felt silly, pouting at your grown age like this. In front of Iruka, nonetheless. 

The man across from you sighed, unsure of how else he could comfort you. Iruka had watched you train plenty of times; from his classroom at the Academy, he had the perfect view of a few of the training fields that chūnin and jōnin gathered at to practice. He would be lying if he said he didn’t watch Asuma help you work on your hand signals from time to time, or that he found it amusing when you became frustrated.  

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he said after a while of silence. The softness of his voice surprised you. “I know that living this life can be difficult for most, but I would like to think that your father and mother wouldn’t want you to feel like this. Hiruzen spoke about the will of fire so often, I felt like I needed to make it my personal mission to ignite it within the youth of our village. 

Sometimes I forget about how much will the rest of us harbour. I see it in Asuma everyday. I see it in Kakashi, and even Naruto and Shikamaru. They show up for their teammates and their friends every day, they make the choice to continue to aid the community and village in their own unique ways. Whether that be through completing missions at the benefit of protecting the village, or through enhancing their own strengths with vigorous training. It exists in all of us, and undoubtedly within you, too.” 

Unable to hide the blood that rushed to your cheeks, you looked down into your bowl and moved around the noodles. Iruka was right. Maybe you did need to stop being so hard on yourself. 

The pair of you sat across from each other for at least another hour or two before either of you realized the sun was setting behind the tops of the apartments; the rain had cleared, but the streets remained damp with puddles. A part of you was a little disappointed the afternoon had flown by so quickly. Spending time with Iruka turned out to be incredibly relaxing, and it turned out the two of you had a lot more in common than you previously thought. 

You decided that you liked the way he smiled with his eyes. You liked the way the area around them crinkled whenever he lifted his lips into a grin. His hair was beginning to fall in stray strands from his neatly formed ponytail, and while you didn’t understand the logic, it made him all the more human. Intimate, even. Iruka was always seen pulled together, despite working closely with some of the most rambunctious youth the village had ever seen. Even during his sparring matches, a single hair never fell out of place. 

The broad shouldered man was leaning into the counter as he washed the small batch of dishes you had accumulated throughout the day. You told him to leave them and protested profusely, but he waved you away with a laugh in reassurance.

“Are you going to end up meeting with Asuma and the others?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” He asked in return, turning away from the sink. “I’m sure no one would mind.”

You almost laughed in disbelief. “I wasn’t necessarily invited.”

Iruka shrugged nonchalantly. “I fail to see the problem. Like you just said, Asuma’s going.”

You thought about it. Surely you would get some grief about not making it to see Konohamaru, but being able to join your brother and his friends in the festivities. Not that Asuma would truly care — if anything, you were more concerned about how he may react to seeing you in a bandage. Protective as ever, Asuma was. 

“Should I really be walking around just yet?” You wondered, looking down at your ankle with uncertainty.

Iruka wiped his hands on a small towelette, his head tilting to the side as he appraised you for a brief moment. Then, he replied, “If it gets to be too much, I will carry you home.” 

From the definitive look in his gaze, you could tell he was sincere. You felt like you had no other choice but to chalk it up to the simple fact Iruka didn’t want to attend this gathering any more than you did, but a small, miniscule part you really wanted it to be because he enjoyed spending time with you. 

“You’ll carry me all the way back?” 

He nodded once. “And you can always lean on me if you need to take a load off, though, I imagine we will be able to sit.”

We will. It may have been wishful thinking, but you wanted to believe that meant he would stay by your side the rest of the night. Suddenly excited with the prospect of spending the remainder of your evening with him, you finally decided to nod and brace your hands on your knees. 

“Alright. I’ve just got one more favour to ask before we head out anywhere, though.” You admitted sheepishly, looking sideways at him. 

He only chuckled, something that always sounded carefree. “Name it.” 

“I may need help changing into something a little less … casual.” 

This time, it was Iruka who appeared to scramble to hide blush that creeped into his own cheeks. Flustered, he nodded but for the first time, suddenly looked completely frozen.

“Don’t worry,” you giggled, noticing the way he gulped noticeably when you began to unzip your sweater, “I won’t tell Asuma that you had a peek.”

[chirpsythismorning]

I know there are certain points in s3 where we’re supposed to take certain words and actions of Hopper’s as Mike’s own words/actions in a small sense? Obviously not all of them, but some of them definitely are.

Like with the whole letter at the end of the season thing, parts of it were conveying Mike’s feelings for Will and how he feels like he’s losing him. Also Joyce helping Hopper with his feelings at the start of s3, where he’s like, maybe you can do it for me and she’s like no it only works if it comes from you… that was very s4 Will helping Mike with the painting, but it not being successful bc it didn’t come from Mike coded.

Though there is one other detail I didn’t notice until the other day and it’s pretty insane.

While Mike is no doubt stressed about Hopper threatening him about continuing to date El, I think the way they go about it is… interesting in the context of Hopper sometimes representing Mike in a sense.

Its 3x02, just after 9am, and El’s calling Mike like Where are you!? And Mike is just stumbling on his words trying to find a way to get through this smoothly without fucking everything up…

And after the phone call is over, we transition to Hopper smirking, followed by jamming out in his car celebrating, arriving at Melvalds to celebrate with Joyce, saying this is the first day in 6 months that they’re not hanging out with each other…

You’re telling me, for the last 6 months, Mike has been going to see El at the cabin, just for them to sit in her room most of the day doing nothing…

It’s early July and Will says it’s been like this all summer, which presumably means based on what Hopper and Will said, they still hung out during the school year, but it wasn’t as bad bc obviously Mike had to go to school for the first half of the day, and maybe just dropped by the cabin after school for a few hours.

But that got me thinking, would it be so wrong of Mike to not like feeling obligated to hanging out with El at all waking hours?

I never really thought about it, but within the context of Hopper jamming out and celebrating at the prospects of them not hanging out for one day for the first time in months… would it be so mad for Mike to feel some relief about this too?

We see the contrast of how he runs after Will after their fight, but then sort of just dailies around aimlessly after El dumps him. In one scenario he’s panicked and rushing bc he’s scared he hurt Will and it’ll ruin things between them, while in the other it’s treated sort of like a comedy, where Mike is presumably in no rush to fix things with El post-breakup. He seems like he’s almost stalling, especially in comparison to how he reacts to Will yelling at him.

There’s also this moment when Mike is like exaggerating the situation, by saying that if he doesn’t lie to El and avoid her, Hopper is never going to let Mike see her, ever again…

It seems to me like Mike has a sort of all or nothing attitude when it comes to El.

He’s convinced himself that either he can be in a relationship with El and never be apart, or they can’t see each other at all.

Lucas even makes a comment like did he threaten to kill you? And Mikes like No?!? And Lucas is like okay what’s the big deal then?

They literally have experience with ignoring Hopper’s threats ie the pilot episode when Hopper said not to look for Will, yet Mike was at the forefront making that a priority in spite of Hopper’s warning.

Basically, as the saying goes, if he wanted to, he would…

We know that applies to Will more than it applies to El.

All I’m saying is, there’s something visceral about El getting off the phone with Mike and Mike being like SHIT and it transitioning to Hopper smiling and then jamming out in his car.

This would be the first day this summer Mike has not hung out with El most of the waking hours and is instead spending time with his friends. This also gives El a chance to hang out with Max and to grow beyond this idea of what Mike has framed as their only option.

Leading up to their breakup, even though Mike’s fixated on putting up an image of ugghh gf problems, you can see the scenes are meant to be framed like male bonding. Even max makes a claim they’re probably just playing Atari. So there is this concept in Max’s mind even, that this was an out for Mike to hang out with his friends. Albeit a cowardly way to go about it. But all the pieces sort of fit together.

We get a literal shot of Mike staring at Will, pretending to not enjoy himself, with the Cocoa Puffs in the background. We get a shot of Lucas trying to give Mike the Cocoa Puffs and Mike denying them… We get Mike giving a play by play of how they can end the game right then and there, meaning that despite his look of ‘boredom’ during Will’s campaign, he actually was paying very close attention to it.

Mike is out here denying going crazy with Will while simultaneously worrying too much about El, as if them not being romantic means they can’t have a relationship at all…

Someone give this dude some clarity.

[ray-winters]

hey bro 😋 how are you feeling? hows ur summer been? update us :}

Hiiiii!!! I’m doing better, cold’s basically gone (thank God bc I gotta sing 15 songs on Friday yaaaaay)

I won’t lie to you, this summer has been okay! I got booked for my first regular gig on the strip, it had been going on for a few months, and on my second weekend the show unfortunately got cancelled! So that was actually kind of tough for me to handle, bc I thought I’d be rolling in money & I would’ve had a steady summer gig but now I’m a starving actor again and I am pretty much just waiting for Scream’d to come back haha

One thing I’m never gonna do to yall is lie about the real life of an actor. If I didn’t have SCREAM’D coming back I probably would’ve tried to find another gig but tbh it was like, I had too much time to do nothing but not enough time to get a routine job that I was gonna quit within a few months for my actual priority which is Maj.

But it’s showbizz ya know! So I’ve just been enjoying my time off, I worked for 9.5 months out of the last year pretty much straight so, I’m letting myself be okay with taking some time off.

Chris and I have gotten to spend SO much time together this summer too so it’s been very lovely, we didn’t get too much quality time while we were both working so we’ve been soaking it in.

Besides all that, just working on myself. Trying to stay healthy & happy!

[libra-stellium]

Pluto in Aquarius - 12H Transit

Reflecting on Friendships

The last time pluto was in aquarius was March 23 - June 11 2023 and during that time was when a friend of 8/9 years ghosted me in early March and I tried to mend things during that 3 month period and the last time we had a conversation was June 10 2023 lol (we did tell each other happy birthday and thank you in Sept and Nov after that but no actual conversation)

Then this year pluto goes into aqua again on Jan 20 2024 and I tell a couple friends about how my TikTok FYP gets sooo many of her reposts about fake friends and hating people who aren’t confrontational and how nobody knows how to communicate lol so I liked one of them and they stopped! Then like 2 weeks later there’s a repost about getting confronted about reposts and how you can’t take anything online seriously 😂 but there’s been 0 reposts since so I think it worked 🤷🏾‍♀️

Then on Jan 29 I had a dream that I was in a groupchat with her and other people who I used to be friends with in college but my friendship with them didn’t make it past that so I guess they ended like 5 years ago? We would sometimes do group things but it quickly died down. They’re all still friends tho I think. Anyway so in this dream one girl sent a longgggggg ass message about all the things she hated about me 💀 (my dreams are always dramatic lmfao) and that girl who ghosted me was hearting the messages within seconds like she was right there when it was written!! Lmao message received!! I don’t think they actually hate me to this extent irl but I’m a Pisces rising so my dreams don’t lie 🤷🏾‍♀️

And this entire week I’ve been thinking about what I actually want out of friendships and that friendship wasn’t bad but it also wasn’t completely what I wanted in a friendship and I think I was holding on for longer than necessary bc nothing had happened between us so why end a friendship you know? And towards the end right before I was like “she ghosted me” I remember thinking why do I feel like I’m begging ? Lmao bc I would type a message and erase it like I felt she wouldn’t care about what I had to say. Which is weird bc I wasn’t saying anything out of the ordinary 😭 and I should’ve listened to that feeling more lol

I definitely want friendships with more care involved. I have a few friends I can have deep conversations with and who didn’t mind listening to me vent to them about what my narc mom was doing to me that week and I let them vent too. But like…while I was going through that no one asked me if I needed anything or if I needed help with anything it was just like yeah that sucks 😕 and that’s it. I was sick recently and one of my friends I told I was sick never responded to my message and then I go on IG two days later to see she’s on vacation with her bf and then she calls me when she gets back a week later and not once asked me if I was feeling better but immediately started talking about a situation with her bf 🙃 like okayyyyyy

So I think that’s def going to be a major Pluto in aqua theme for me. I just need to actually sit down and figure out what I want my friendships to look like.

I feel like I already do for them what I’m looking for so I know I’m not asking for a lot! And I did think about my people pleaser tendencies and it wasn’t even about that like someone sharing an achievement and me going “we should go here to celebrate!” But me sharing an achievement and just getting the congrats text with confetti and if I want to celebrate I gotta say I want to go celebrate let’s go here like 😀 and even for my bday last year I was fresh off no contact with my mom obviously distressed and no one offered any options for my bday when it was less than a week before and I was saying I literally have no idea what to do I’m overwhelmed they just kept asking did you plan it yet? So I ended up just picking a random place for brunch lol but it felt like too much to be like “can someone plan my bday for me?” 💀 my take on it is very if they wanted to they would

It’s 4:44

I think it relates to my family too bc from the way their lives have turned out I have this fear of not having any friends bc they don’t have any friends in their 50s 60s and continuously tell me how lonely it is and to make sure that never happens to me and to make sure I keep all my friends lol no pressure! But tbh the reason they don’t have any friends is bc I don’t think they were friends with those people to begin with they were just in proximity and they did not actually care about each other.

I wonder what’s going to show up between Sept 1 - Nov 19 2024 when Pluto goes back into cap and reenters aqua for the next 20 years bc my bday happens in that gap and there’s always something surrounding my bday!!

[knee-stockings]

So I’ve been listening to lots of podcasts at work lately to break up the monotony of my office job. Mainly they’re horror, suspense/thriller, drama, that kind of thing. Trying to give ratings without spoilers~

(Check out updated pod recs here)

The Left Right Game (a journalist investigating an urban legend that gets increasingly more dangerous as they go): 5/5, this being one of the first ones I listened to set the bar really high tbh, it was great, immersive sound design, genuinely suspenseful and creepy moments, interesting plot, my only gripe is that I didn’t love the ending but I couldn’t dock a star just for that, highly recommend, maybe I’ll retire to Wintry Bay someday 

Alice Isn’t Dead (delivery trucker goes searching for her believed dead wife, comes across supernatural towns and creatures and a conspiracy that goes way deeper than one missing woman): 5/5, so so good, enjoyed a lot, I loved learning the truth about the Thistle men, still don’t completely understand oracles but that’s okay, some delightfully creepy moments, this will be high on my recommendation list (also it’s by the Welcome to Night Vale people, which I actually haven’t listened to lmao)

Harley Quinn and the Joker: Sound Mind (it’s a Harley Quinn origin story basically): 5/5, very enjoyable, sound design great, plot was fun, I don’t know how accurate this story is to the original Harley Quinn origin story but I liked this a lot

The Burned Photo (two women try to fight a familial curse haunting their bloodlines): 4/5, not bad at all, I thought the sound design was great and immersive but I thought the monster’s voice was a bit goofy idk, the plot wasn’t bad though ofc it was pretty bittersweet and sad in the end, tho I think it was never going to be happy for everyone involved

Blackwood (group of teens investigate the town urban legend and uncover more than they bargained for): I can’t decide…3.5 maybe? It was okay. I didn’t love it or hate it, I’m pretty neutral about it. It was interesting enough

Gaslight (girl goes missing and then reappears to her best friend years later with little explanation): 3/5, feels like there should be another season, wasn’t as dramatic/suspenseful as I thought it would be (maybe that’s my own fault tho, from the description and stuff I thought there would be more to it)

Ice-Cream (teens suspect the friendly neighborhood ice cream man of abducting little kids and uncover a dark secret): 4.5/5, interesting and a lil creepy, there’s something oddly funny about hearing someone scream “fuck you Beelzebub” even in context, sound design is pretty good and voice acting is great, finale was also pretty good but I’m docking half a star bc of that very last bit and bc I said so, overall short n’ sweet, no pun intendo (I’m kinda glad that it’s only the one season and not super long, gives the feeling of not overstaying its welcome. Also in awe that they made it within like a month, gonna go listen to their other podcast Cascadia too)

Cascadia (submarine expedition to uncharted waters, gone wrong, we almost died!?): 5/5, by the Ice-Cream people so I expected great sound design and voice acting and said expectations were met tbh, yes god love the drama, ocean depths are inherently scary to me so this is top tier horror, season one was chef’s kiss beautiful and I heard season 2 is coming so I’ll be waiting eagerly for that

Listening now:

Within the Wires (season 1 is relaxation cassette tapes from another world, season 2 is a guided museum tour I think): also by the WTNV people, interesting so far, the plot that unfolded in the first season was cool to watch as it played out, but also I am so sad. I like it so far

Rabbits (girl goes searching for her friend who disappeared because of this mysterious Rabbits game): feels like a really slow start after a few episodes, I kinda wanna get to more action soon please

Wake of Corrosion (apocalypse where characters are trying to find other survivors and also answers): mild shrug, not sure what to make of it just yet. Only like 2 episodes in so I think I need to give it a bit

Ars Paradoxica (scientist accidentally invents time travel and is thrown back to the 1940s): pretty interesting so far, science is fun 

Spoiler comment for Cascadia under the cut bc it's the one I just finished and I have Thoughts

As much as I enjoyed Cascadia, when I think about the expedition for more than 2 seconds I get confused. Not the whole alien thing, that’s fine, it’s Badger and Maria and their ulterior motives. Why in the world did Badger spend millions of dollars to make a submarine that’s faulty on purpose? And there was so much media coverage around it so the second something went wrong reporters were practically beating him over the head with microphones, so why risk so much bad press? Plus sacrificing three other talented divers who trusted him with their lives??? That’s the most confusing to me. There’s no way Badger foresaw them getting attacked underwater and losing Declan alone, so he must have been fully prepared to lose captain AND crew. Holden said that he saw Badger as a father, and yet he chose Holden to die? He said he handpicked them, so what did Holden, Alia, or Iris ever do to him to deserve being sent on a suicide mission? Doing all this just to get rid of Declan and be with Maria doesn’t feel right. Feels like there should be something more there. Tldr: surely Badger had another reason for conducting the suicide mission, right? Also since season 2 starts with Lila all grown up, a diver just like her father, I wanna know her opinions of her mother and of Badger. Did she learn about her mother’s betrayal? Is Badger still involved in funding deep sea diving or did the FBI take him out of that? Omg who’s the father of her little sibling…I’m so curious…

[degendog]

hey! sorry in advanced for kinda spilling my guts, but idk there isnt really anyone else that ive found to talk to about this.

I’m trans masc, and recently, i made something thats like part strap-on, part dildo, and part packer. ive been wearing it and its been a adjustment, but ive been getting used to it.

ive also been trying to get off with it, but that hasnt been going super well. ive been trying to experiment recently, i've only really found that i get off to being called “good boy”, but just saying that to myself hasn't been very effective. (i tend to peek within the first 30 seconds, then go into something short of a depresive spiral for like 4-7 business days, which is why ive put off really trying anything until now.) so would you have any tips?

:3

hey man you’re all good. no shame in needing advice from horny transgenders on the internet lol.

im going to assume you’re pre-t bc of the macgyvered packer-dildo-strap, which i am very intrigued by if you’re willing to describe how that works. like. are you hard packing all the time? is it like a pack n play? did you make something yourself and if so what material? <-that’s more of a question for safety/hygiene reasons lol

everyone has a different relationship to jacking off pre-t. i barely ever jacked off bc it didn’t feel good before and id be crippled with dysphoria every time i stuck a hand in my pants. a pre t dude i know is wayyyy hornier than i am now. there’s no shame in whatever libido you have, especially considering how dysphoria can affect it.

my advice: take some of the pressure to cum off yourself. it’s okay if you don’t cum when you jack off, particularly if you’re trying something new. forcing yourself to chase an orgasm isn’t fun when it’s every time (forced orgasms are hot, but only when it’s fun for everyone involved). let yourself try shit out and see what feels good. look at ftm porn if you need ideas—particularly amateur work. there’s a lot on various subreddits, but i’d avoid r/ftmspunished (which is a transmasc kinky subreddit) for at least a while bc way too much of the content on there is feminization. not helpful when you’re trying to feel comfortable sexually as a man.

seriously though, looking at porn is a great way to find out what you’re into and what gets you going. i mostly look at amateur porn bc it’s less perfect and closer to reality to me. there’s usually less fantasy involved, so it’s easier to imagine yourself in that scenario. you can watch videos of other trans guys jacking off and try to copy their movements, for example.

as for the 30-second peak followed by the week of depression, that sounds like a high libido impacted by good old standard issue dysphoria to me. i actually had pretty bad bottom dysphoria myself up until a few months ago, even after years on t. what helped me learn to love my anatomy was realizing that i’m not a lesser man just because i’m trans. i don’t have to be a last resort. people can be attracted to me for me, including my transness. (and then i got a really fucking good blowjob recently that further confirmed that lol so. worth a shot). you’re not a lesser man because you’re trans, and you and your dick are still worthy of love.

also. for the love of god do not everyday pack with a dildo unless you have one of the specially made ones. use a rolled up sock as a packer if you can’t get a silicone one. i’ve been using a sock packer for like six years.

much love man

[yooniesim]

Honestly, I feel like the reason these people get away with these poor quality meshes and shady tactics is because most people don’t realize that it’s not all that good in the first place. You sit there and think “WOW! Look at this person who made their own items for the game!” and since you don’t know how to do it yourself and you’re on the outside looking in, it all seems impressive. I can definitely pinpoint the moment I realized that it’s as good as it seems.

I was too poor to buy packs so I used CC to fill the gaps , but then I discovered the Seven Seas of the Internet. Suddenly, I had all the packs at my disposal and I was so excited going through all these CAS items that I only ever saw in pack reviews on YouTube. But, that feeling faded quickly because I realized that I had seen most of them already in the form of CC mesh edits. I think what really put the nail in the coffin was seeing the DHD Items and realizing how many creators made their mesh edits and put them under early access w/o mentioning that they were just barely tweaked versions of an EA item.

I definitely had to take a step back from downloading CC after that, because I couldn’t view the creators I had admired so much in the same light as I had previously. All their creations were just kinda meh now that I had realized that they didn’t really create them at all and had just chopped it up and sold it as theirs. It was like finding out an artist you liked was just tracing everything and presenting it as theirs just because they changed the hairstyle.

Anyways, thanks for letting me ramble and keep on being awesome!

Nonny, I agree with everything you said. I went through this same thing as I realized more about cc creating and really how simple and repetitive some of my favorite cc was. I would be thinking a creator had super high quality work and was good at replicating EA's style... just to find out it was literally EA's meshes & textures just slightly tweaked. Considering how EA is (justifiably) shit on and used to be considered worse than cc creators, the situation has really taken a turn with maxis match creators. I really feel sorry for people that started simblrs in the last few years bc they will never know how you used to have 10x more content for FREE after a pack would drop, there would be repeats bc everyone was scrambling to make these little edits. Now the same 4-5 creators horde them under "add on" packs for extra money after people already paid EA for the pack. It's really just more microtransactions but it's from people that used to (seem to) care about the community & having fun but now just see dollar signs. I really honestly think they take those preview pics we get of all the items in a pack and seriously plan what they're going to slice and dice before the pack even comes out. And I think it's funny to criticize EA's every move (which i agree with tbh) when you're pretty much just a leech grabbing the work of the devs and stretching it as far as you can for your own gain. And they KNOW it's shady, that's why they hide and only pop in to post their cc, that's why they're super defensive, why they only talk to each other and have their lil secret discords where they pass around peoples names and get them banned from all their patreons while immediately chain blocking the people that criticize them on tumblr. The first minute I criticized early access (before I ever mentioned anyone by name), I got chain blocked by 5-8 big creators within a day, and i'm even blocked by maxismatchccworld by the same exact reason. They 1000% block out anyone they can and just collect a check every month off their basically- let's call it what it is- stolen work.

[blaqueswanzaghouliishiilikeda]

.

k…so…hmm i don’t know if i’ll leave this up. im truly in a moment where i just wanna be lowkey. i don’t exactly want to be perceived too much rn. but this pride is really important to me. and i don’t really even know if this is worth anyone’s time, but i feel like i should say something...if only just to be able to look back and see that i did celebrate in my own way.

i don’t think i’ve had a pride where i’ve experienced it the way i would have liked, tho this is the year where i really feel whats at the heart of it the most. im queer and genderfluid/nonbinary. not just in how i love, but also how i live. i’ve had some recent revelations about all that that’s been really exciting, but a lot of figuring myself out happened in the midst of a great deal of crisis so there hasn’t been very much, joy or celebration these past few years. last year in particular was so hard i experience such a severe period of anhedonia and apathy i didn’t think i’d see the other side of it. iwtv was the first thing i was able to fully enjoy, and feel the enjoyment, and then coming on here and meeting so many amazing lgbtq+ people (espc. my black mutuals) has been mind altering. not even an exaggeration! talking and sharing ideas and laughing and just enjoying you guys has shifted my life experience in ways i wish you knew. i wish words could express it, but i don't think they really can. so i guess this is a thank you to my gay vampire show family as it is a very real celebration that i chose to watch it and that i'm still here.

there used to be a goal post for not being here. and wanting to see S2 shifted that. and then immersing myself within this fandom experience gave me reasons to push it further. and then suddenly i was being inspired to do things for me that i had given up on just bc connections i've made. and now i dont even know where that goal post is. it used to be so clear and in sight. i was almost a statistic in the worst way. one of the most effective way to erase us is by making us take ourselves out of life so they can say it was us all along. something was wrong within is. but nothing is wrong with all the beautifully complex and chaotic ways i exist. something is wrong with a society that doesn't want me in it when the world clearly does. when it keeps giving me reasons to keep going and keep fighting despite the opposition. even if i took myself out, i couldn't be erased anyways bc i’m so loved. as i am. im loved. and i love and that’s really untouchable. on the other side of not being able to feel, and not being able to care. im reminded im loved. and i feel it now. and i care so much about it that its given me fight. its given me the stubbornness and spite required to live in all this.

i think a lot about this.

[image description: a poem by Lucille Clifton titled - won’t you celebrate with me.

won’t you celebrate with me

what i have shaped into

a kind of life? i had no model

born in babylon

both nonwhite and woman

what did i see to be except myself?

i made it up

here on this bridge between

starshine and clay,

my one hand holding tight

my other hand; come celebrate

with me that everyday

something has tried to kill me

and has failed.

end image description]

i know theres a lot of pain. and grief and uncertainty that exists throughout this fandom. i know there’s a lot people are experiencing that they aren't sharing or getting into. if my life is anything to go by i know that suffering in this life can sometimes be so egregious you question what it’s all for. i question that a lot. even now. and i don't have an answer really. I don't think it’s my place to answer that for others anyways. but i’m celebrating you guys bc you’ve helped me feel. and care. and i attribute so much of the joys i’ve had these past several months to getting to experience you all. you were here when i came searching for something to connect to. even if i didn’t realize that’s what i was doing at the time. we’re here together now. and you may not know it or feel it. but just you being here ripples and reaches. so i really hope you’ll celebrate with me. they didn't kill us. and the ones that have passed live on in the ways we still love them. still grieve them. and honor them in everything we do. our lives are written in pen and permanent marker all over the world. they’ll tear off the flesh of their fingers, raw and bloody, before they ever succeed in wiping us away. we’re rooted in the core. the earth remembers us and keeps bringing us back. bc we belong here. happy pride.