#anyway. i said it before and i will say it again

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-four —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: ily

England passes in beautiful shades of green, the last time you'll see it, so you soak it in. Rolling hills streak the landscape like scars. In the distance, you glimpse faded architecture, imagining people living and working there. An ivy-covered university appears, and you picture yourself dozing off in a lecture. These little fantasies entertain you for the next two hours, but Blue isn't distracted by the same game. When you look at her arm, you notice pink scratches just below where the friendship bracelet hugs her wrist, made by her nails mindlessly.

You tear your eyes from the window and nudge your shoulder against hers. "Hey. What do you call a cow with no legs?"

Her lips twitch at the broken silence and she lifts her azure eyes to yours, a bead of sunlight catching in them. "What?"

"Ground beef."

Those eyes roll. "That's stupid."

Nereida smiles from the other side of her. "Oh, I've got one. What did the ocean say to the beach?"

Blue sighs. "Ghost said that one before. Nothing—it just 'waved'."

A recoil passes over Nereid's kind eyes. "I apologize. That's the only one I know."

Quiet air fills the space again, and when you notice Blue's nails dig back into her wrist, you gently lace your fingers through hers and pull her hand to your lap, allowing her to scratch your thigh, instead. 

When an old theme park erects from the grass, Blue's interest piques. "Woah. What is that?"

"None of it works anymore," Ghost mutters, one hand on the wheel.

"It looks cool, though. I have to pee, anyway. Can we stop here?"

"I could use a little stretch for my legs," Nereida adds.

The pitstop is brief enough to allow Blue the chance to curiously look through the decrepit bumper cars, carousel, and even a small rollercoaster that still has the car sitting mid-track. She grabs Ari's hand to show him, but he doesn't seem as intrigued given the pale look on his face. He ends up rushing to a bush and keeling over.

"The back gets a bit bumpy," Kyle says when he notices your expression. "He'll be fine."

"I'll switch with him for the rest of the way."

"You don't have to."

"It's fine. He can probably entertain Blue better than I can."

Everyone uses the small break to eat a little lunch. You already had some of the beans Ghost packed, so you feel uncertain whether you should eat anymore of his food. You haven't even discussed sharing. Rather, you ration the jerky you made and save the rest. 

It is a small meal, so you eat it slowly to trick your stomach into feeling full. Just before getting back to the truck, you spot a tree by the entrance to Kettering Kastle. Hickory. Paul told you once they make for great arrows, a softer hardwood. Pliable yet strong. This excites you. Your sheath is only half-full, so you grab your serrated knife and cut a few midsized branches to take with you.

Sitting in the truck bed is far from pleasant. The tail wind makes it hard to breathe, and you have to grab the side of the truck to keep yourself from flying out. Kyle notices your struggle and seems amused, but reaches an arm over in offering. You hold onto him and it does some to keep you stable. 

The motorway passes through Kettering, which is a smaller city. The smell is retched, though the only Greys you spot don't take notice to you, trapped between buildings and toppled telephone poles. You make out a sign that reads A14 and figure it is headed to Cambridge. If you continue this pace, you'll reach the coastline by sundown.

Of course, things don't work out that way. The road becomes more obstructed with abandoned vehicles. Ghost has to weave through them like a maze, wasting time and fuel. The sun crawls higher in the sky. Finally, there are a few kilometers of straight road. Speed ticks up only to come to an abrupt halt when he reaches an underpass. You let go of Kyle and stand up to see what has caused the stop—a semi truck completely blocks the way through it.

"Jesus," you mutter.

Consecutive slams of the fronts doors indicate Price and Ghost are checking it out. Kyle hops out with them. After a few minutes, he returns and explains with a sigh, "We'll have to backtrack and find a side street that will lead to another motorway ramp."

"That's going to eat time. The sun will set soon."

He offers his arm again as Ghost begins reversing. "I know. It's fine, we'll just get to the water tomorrow. No rush, yeah?"

It adds an extra hour and a half. The sky turns a remarkable orange that would've had you gawking if not for your irritation of having to stop again. Ghost pulls over just before it gets too dark to set up the tents in a small market town called Haverhill. There's hardly anything here except fields of bright, yellow flowers and little shops with slanted CLOSED signs. It is actually pleasant and well-preserved, until you catch the distinguishable shape of a corpse hanging from one of the telephone poles, a black trash bag over its head.

"Don't look at it."

"Nothing I haven't seen before," you dismiss under your breath. 

A more forested patch of land at the edge of the town is where you make camp for the night.

They eat canned goods and you finish your last pieces of jerky. This means you'll have to find more food for yourself tomorrow, or ask Ghost for some. The thought makes you anxious. The last thing you want is to seem like an extra burden. Dead weight that they'd be better off leaving behind. But he also didn't comment when you ate the beans. The uncertainty of where you stand means you need to make yourself useful.

The men need rest, so you offer to keep watch.

Prices dismisses you. "You don't have to, Twix. The three of us can take turns."

"No, really. I'll keep watch and you guys can all get more sleep. I've just been sitting in a car all day, anyway."

He gives in, visibly fatigued after being up over twenty-four hours.

Ghost and Price sleep first.

That leaves you sitting with Kyle when the stars begin to flicker like bright, little heartbeats against the black night.

You pull out your smoother knife—the one you found back at that base—to carve the sticks you found, careful of your bandaged thumb. 

Kyle lays his rifle across his lap. "First time I am seeing you smile today and it's while carving sticks." 

"Arrows," you correct, holding one up and tapping your index lightly against the sharpened point. "And it's good wood. Hickory."

"You're an easy woman to please," he teases.

"My tastes have changed over the years."

"Really? I can't imagine you as one of those people who cared too much about nice things."

You flash him a raised brow. "Are you saying I was cheap?"

He nudges your knee. "Not what I'm saying. You just seem like someone who would prefer a little movie date over a fancy dinner."

"I liked sushi. Is that fancy?"

He hums. "There were some good cheap sushi spots in London—hole in the wall type places. When there was some kid doing their homework at one of the booths, that's when you knew it'd be good shit."

"You're making me hungry."

"Well, you should've eaten more." He looks at you knowingly. "You're scared to ask anyone for food, aren't you?"

Are you really that easy to read? You place the half-finish arrow across your knees and look at the ground, brushing your fingers absentmindedly through the soft grass. "I just—I am aware of my place here."

"Your place?"

Your hands tightens the grass into a fistful. "I am at the bottom."

"The bottom," he repeats slowly, and his voice lowers. "You really think that?"

You rip the grass and sprinkle it over your boot, glancing up at him. His eyes have darkened, or maybe they are simply mirroring the sky. "I am not complaining. I understand that everyone here has others who they would prefer to keep alive over me, that's all. I just don't want to stick out anymore than I already do."

He reels in your words. "You're forgetting that everyone here has their own perspective, their own wants. It is not as simple as you're making it seem." In a change of topic, he reaches for the arrow on your lap. "Here—let me help."

You hand him the knife and he begins carving expertly as a few minutes of silence ensue. You are lost in your thoughts, keeping your eyes on the surroundings, when he suddenly stops in his handiwork, holding up the knife. You watch him study the leather handle carefully, shake his head to himself, then look at you.

"Where did you get this?"

"Huh? Oh—I found it. At a military base actually."

Your answer seems to strike him, and he releases a disbelieving exhale. "The one near Manchester?"

You nod. 

"It was my brother's."

What?

Reading your expression, he shows you the handle and rubs his thumb over a small etching at the bottom that you can barely make out in the moonlight: PG.

"Patrick Garrick," he explains in a murmur, and your chest tightens. "I didn't even notice it at first. It's been years since I had it. The last time...the last time was when shit happened, and I lent it to a friend of mine at the base."

"Who?"

"Soap," he says, a memory taking over his expression as he rubs his jaw. "He was the other member of our spec ops unit."

"You... Someone mentioned him before. Ghost—he asked you guys about him when you arrived. You don't know what happened to him, right?"

Kyles nods. "He stayed back at the base to keep helping even when Price and I jumped ship. That was the Scottish in him—stubborn as hell. Soap was just his codename, of course. Like mine was Gaz." He looks up at you with a faint dimple. "And yours is Twix, huh?"

"I guess." You press your tongue to your teeth and grab the knife, frowning at it as you try to recall exactly where you grabbed it from. "What was his real name, then?"

"John MacTavish."

"I think—I think your friend is dead. I'm sorry." You gaze at him. "I remember now. I found it in one of the rooms, and there was a skeleton with that name. He... he had it quick, though."

The expression on his typically warm eyes turns unreadable and his shoulders stiffen in the slightest. You wonder if you should have bothered sharing this, but then he shrugs it off with a sigh. "It's okay. Figured as much. Many people have died. He's just another name to the list."

Instinct draws your hand to his shoulder, and the muscles softens beneath your touch. "I'm still sorry."

His eyes find yours. 

He smiles solemnly.

Then, somewhere in it all, he leans over and closes the gap. The sudden, foreign feel of lips pressed against your own stuns you. His lips move gently, cold and soft against yours, and only when he threads a hand through your hair to pull you closer do you fully register what he is doing. Your eyes fly open and you break away, leaping to your feet.

"Why did you—what was that?"

He stands up with you. "It felt right in the moment."

He tries to touch your shoulder but you flinch away. "I'm sorry. I just—I was just trying to comfort you."

"I misread the moment." His eyes are clouded. "So you didn't want it?"

Did you? Your mind feels fuzzy. "I don't know. I need to...I want to be alone right now."

You grab your knife and sticks, rushing around the tents to find solace by the truck, needing to process what just happened. As you move, you bump into a hard chest—Ghost. Somehow you failed to hear the jagged teeth of the tent's zipper. Avoiding his gaze, you try to slip past, but he grips your elbow, holding you in place.

"What is it?"

The lie wedges out of your lips. "Nothing. I just—thought I saw something so I am going to sit over there and keep an eye out."

The difference in height leads to his stare burning into your scalp. "What did you see?" 

"I don't know. Something. Maybe just an animal."

His hold doesn't soften. Stoicism forces itself on your face as you press your lips into a line.

You're easy to ready.

He finally lets go. "I'll take over now. You can sleep."

You find yourself nodding soundlessly, internally glad to be relieved of this duty. 

Sleep offers peace of mind, at least until morning. 

Dawn breaks over the small town in a quiet clatter of spoons against cans and the shuffling of bags being packed up. The dream you wake up from was one of an old life—the last kiss you experienced. But it fizzles quickly from the recesses of your brain the moment your lids shutter open. 

Both you and Kyle seem keen on acting as though nothing happened. More than anything, you are confused. You try to search inside that box of yours for how you feel, but all you find is fear. You've barely been able to keep up with the fear. You busy yourself with helping get everything back in the truck, fitting the supplies like a jigsaw puzzle. You have nothing to eat. A day or two without food is doable until you can properly hunt for something—

"Here."

It is Nereida who catches you by the truck before leaving. She practically shoves a can of tuna into your hands and you look up at her in hesitant gratitude.

"We're all sharing food," she says. "That is how it should be."

"Thank you. Really, this is—"

"Don't thank me. There is plenty for everyone."

For now, your mind chides, but you swallow the thought while scarfing down the meal you pretend is London's finest sushi. 

Once everyone is ready, you head to the back of the truck, expecting an awkward encounter with Kyle, only to find Ghost sitting there beside the kayak, hands relaxed behind his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Needed a break from driving."

You glance at the front to see that Price is behind the wheel, and Kyle is in the passenger side. In a way, you're relieved. You breathe through your nose and hoist yourself up. The bumpy ride is quiet at first. His body takes up space so that each pothole nudges your shoulder or knee against his. The morning ages. You swear you can see there coast at one point, but it must be your imagination, because the passing sign reads Halstead. 

"You really need to work on lying better."

The brash accent registers low against the hum of the engine, and his eyes are closed when you look over. He is leaned back, one leg straight and one bent, seeming to enjoy the seat more than you are. 

"Fine. I'm bad at lying."

"Care to share the truth, then?"

He needn't elaborate for you to know what he is referring to. "I was...I was upset because I found out my knife—the one I took from the base—belonged to Kyle's brother."

His brow ticks.

You continue, "But he actually gave it to Soap, and I—I found his dog tag on a skeleton. John MacTavish. You were friends with him, weren't you?"

His eyes open, but they are too murky to decipher from just his profile. His jaw flexes. "I wasn't a man with friends, Twix."

"You know what I mean."

There is a pause, and then, "He was a sergeant under my command. A good man. Grating, at times. But good."

"Well, I'm sorry he didn't make it. If you of all people say he was a good guy, then he really must've been."

He hums in agreement. Thoughtful. Then—two gloved fingers touch your jaw, turning your eyes to his. "You are still lying, and still bad at it."

You wet your lips. "I wasn't—"

"Help!"

Ghost drops your chin and grabs the gun from his waist.

Your eyes flash around at the sound of a second plea. There is a man at the side of the road, leg draped in bloodied bandages, but there isn't a chance for you to register more of him when the truck takes a sudden, sharp left down a side street and you brace yourself by grabbing the edge with both arms. The small city-scape whirls by in a blur. Ghost swears under his breath, scanning the area as he bends on one knee and keeps the gun secure in his grip. Confused, you grab his arm.

"That man was injured."

His voice is harsh and alert. "He has fucking friends somewhere here. He was just trying to—"

A shattering sound. An audible pop. You're thrown against the truck bed even harder this time as it skids across the street, nearly slamming into a flipped-over car. Ghost covers you, the weight of him keeping you from flying out. The truck swerves to a halt. Everything is black until his weight lifts. He barks an order, jumps out, and pulls you with him.

Pressed against the side of the truck, the world becomes consumed by loud sounds and the distinct smell of gunpowder. Ghost rips open the passenger door and urgently pulls Blue, Ari, and Nereida out, ordering them to keep low. From the other side, you hear Price and Kyle shouting, followed by another series of gunshots.

[strwberri-milk]

hii can i ask u to write hc about boys when they say something in conversation that will hurt mc, for example when they will mention her appearance like rafayel in ebb when he said 'its round like u'. hope u have great dayy<33

Zayne, being a doctor, has lots of opinions about some of your unhealthier habits. He doesn't share them all the time because he never wants to come off as nagging but you don't need him to say anything to know that he's staring at you judgmentally. He averts your gaze when you turn to him but it's already too late.

You feel yourself becoming demoralised, whatever you were doing totally abandoned as you decide to leave. Zayne knows exactly what happened, cursing himself for not keeping himself in check around you. He just can't help but worry, wanting to see you take care of yourself. The second you try to leave he grabs your wrist, apologising as he tells you it's just because he loves you.

He promises to use his words next time. You sniffle a little, deciding to act a little immature as you tell him that the issue is that he makes it very clear what he thinks. You'd rather him just tell you rather than look at you judgmentally, Zayne unaware just how it looked to you. Generally, he keeps his expression neutral but whenever it comes to you he wears his heart on his sleeve. Or he thinks he does - you've just become so attuned to him that you know what every slight quirk of his brow means.

Xavier also does micro expressions that seem a little judgemental, generally whenever you say something he finds a little odd. He isn't sure if it's just because he's missing some context but when he does it one too many times in a conversation you begin to mutter an apology for boring him.

He's tripping over himself to try and correct you, wanting to tell you that it's not that he's bored, he's just struggling to follow the conversation. You confront him by telling him that even when he's following the conversation just fine he still makes faces at you sometimes. He's now forced to admit that he thinks he makes faces the more tired he gets, body subconsciously trying to get the conversation to end so he can go flop onto the nearest fluffy surface.

However, since it hurts your feelings he does his best to monitor himself, trying to be more active in your conversations. You can see how tired he is though, taking pity on him and telling him to go take a nap. You'll be there to infodump on him when you wake up anyway.

Rafayel says things off handedly, especially when he's not feeling well. Normally you can take it well but today you just couldn't, his passive insult hitting you hard. He watches your face cloud over, brows furrowing as he tries to understand what this sudden shift in your mood is attributed to.

You make it clear it's because of what he said about you, the one statement being the straw that broke the camel's back. You ignore him, not wanting to even look at him as you walk away from him. You try to cool off, your mind spinning as his unintentional words play over and over again. It takes you a while before you can even speak to him normally and when you seek him out he looks like a scolded dog.

He immediately perks up when he sees you, apologising profusely when you come back to him. Despite being mad at him, you also know he provides the most comfort so you crawl into his lap and begin to scold him. He takes it in stride, knowing that he messed up and promising that he'll take better note of your mood to know when he should and shouldn't joke with you about things like that.

Sylus has a sharp tongue like Rafayel but he sounds slightly more "serious" when he says those things. His voice doesn't lend well to jokes unfortunately, meaning that if you're feeling a little more raw one day then you're going to take his words seriously, just like today.

He doesn't let you run from him though - grabbing you and asking you what the problem is. You normally can take his teasing, returning it to him twofold. When you don't quip at him he knows something is wrong, waiting for you to use your words and tell him. He's patient whenever it comes to you thankfully, letting you take your time. You struggle in his grip a little, not wanting to tell him right away but the warmth he provides is just too good so you bury yourself in his chest, telling him that he hurt your feelings.

He coos at you sweetly, telling you how adorable you are and apologising by peppering your face in kisses. He hates making you sad and even if he doesn't overtly say it, you know he regrets it by how he's careful not to insult you if you don't start it first, using how you speak to him as a gauge before returning with some of his usual playful nips at you.

[misayani]

HONEY (R U COMING?) — SE-MI (PLAYER 380)

◜ pairing ... se-mi / player 380 x  fem reader

◜arrogant and bratty reader (044) recruiting se-mi (380) for the second game

𔗨 author's note — wasn't seeing enough fanfics for my baby so ... [lowercase intended]

"i dont see anyone else that's good enough for us" you hear gyeong-su comment with a huff. 

you're currently standing with three idiots—thanos, gyeong-su, and nam-gyu, slightly distanced from the three with your arms crossed against your chest and while your twirl your hair. 

"yo thanos, what are we going to do?" nam-gyu's irritating voice cut through all the noise of other people communicating.

thanos turned to him, his head bopping, motherfucker's high again. "i don't fucking care man, let them come to us. i mean, who wouldn't want to be with the great thanos!" 

both men chuckled as nam-gyu speaks up once again, "what about you 044? make yourself useful, can't just sit pretty doing nothing eh?".

"and you call yourself useful?" you scoff as you turned around to face the three, eyebrows raised. thanos smirked at you as you sighed, "fine, i'll make myself useful. no one would probably even care to join you, even if you begged." 

"you bitc—" nam-gyu would've reached you already if it weren't for thanos holding him back while cackling at the both of you.

with one last huff, you strutted your way to the crowd, scanning around the room for someone who met your personal standards—hot, unbothered, and most specially, a woman. 

your eyes landed on a person wearing a jacket with the number '380'. with a confident smirk, you walked towards the woman whose back is facing you and talking to someone.

"leave." your voice broke their conversation as they both looked at you. you eyes were darted to the boy specifically, him being the one you told to leave.

"w-what?" the boy stuttered, looking at you bewildered.

you furrow your eyesbrows, taking a step closer to the boy, "do i seriously need to get you hearing aids? i said leave." 

the boy scrambled away before you can even take your second step to him. with a pleased smile, you turned to the utterly attractive woman who looked at you with an amused expression.

"join me." short and straight to the point. you were confidently sure that she would just say yes and come with you— surely, who in their right minds would turn down a pretty girl's offe-

"why should i?" she voices out. oh. my. fucking. god is her voice so alluring. her looks already made your legs feel like jelly and then comes her voice?— yes lord.

snapping out of your fantasies, you furrowed your eyebrows as you looked at her with an expression that read 'how dare you?' 

"a-are you serious? why shouldn't you?" you looked at her up and down in attempt to intimidate her, but really just an excuse to check her out.

"can't just expect me to join you after rudely making the boy i was talking to leave, sweetheart." she crosses her arms as she made her way closer.

sweetheart. heat rushed to your cheeks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. 

"what do you want me to do then? he doesn't look like someone who's good enough to join forces with in a death game like this anyways." you rebut. 

"and you think you're good enough?" she smirks at you. before you could even utter another word, she straights up and looks down at you—caused by height difference, making you feel small— and chuckles.

"what's your name and give me one good reason why i should join you."

you told her your name, which made you sound too eager for your liking, before you straightened yourself up and flicked you hair to the back.

 "i'll make sure you win. team up with someone who actually looks like they're capable of winning instead of someone who looks like a lost puppy." your eyes darted to the boy she was talking to earlier who was now talking to other people before returning your gaze to her.

she crosses her arms and brings a finger to her mouth to bite down on and stares at you, which made you scream internally. what the fuck. how can someone be this hot?

after some silence between you two, she spoke up "fine. but if i lose, i'll come for you."

huh. 'come for me?' won't be such a bad idea, right? the thoughts made you smirk as you boldy traveled your eyes over her figure. 

"oh, i think you have me mistaken. i won't mind at all if you came for me" your voice sounded innocent, but your words were laced with an obvious innuendo.

"oh?" she smirks. before you could even let her finish her sentence, you speak up once again to avert the topic.

"how will you come for me if you die anyways?" you roll your eyes to try and hide your flustered state. "which, by the way, you won't. my group is decent, me being the best member of course." 

and as if on cue, thanos and the two made their way to the both of you, his annoying voice dominating the noise surrounding you. 

"there you are doll, been lookin for you." you scoff at his words as thanos turns to face 380, which you still don't know the name of, "and who is this señorita?"

you opened your mouth to say something but 380 beat you to it. "se-mi. she recruited me." she says, nodding to you. 

moanable name. you thought.

"really? another woman? you already make this team weak." nam-gyu yaps as he turns to face you, saliva escaping his mouth. filthy.

you scoff as you step away and point your finger at him, "fucking shut your mouth. you haven't done shit to this team. your ass can't fucking talk." 

before a fight between you two broke out, gyeong-su already restrained nam-gyu. thanos whistles, "well. there's that."

the purple-haired man throws his arm over your shoulders and faced nam-gyu. "let's not talk shit now eh? we're a fucking team!" he yells as he raised his free arm up, "try not to kill each other off, we still have games to play."

nam-gyu rolls his eyes and se-mi watches the scene unfold, snickering.

"now come on my folks, come on." thanos frees you from his hold as he walked through the crowd, arms spread as if bragging, with nam-gyu and gyeong-su following.

your lips unsubconsciously turn into a pout as you turned to face se-mi, who was already looking at you.

"cute." she eyes you up and down and starts walking towards thanos' direction. your mouth opens as if you let out a silent gasp at what she said and just stared.

she realized you weren't following so she stopped and turned her head to look at you.

"coming?" she smirks

oh i'm definitely coming.

@misayani

[wonderjanga]

You Knew the Demon Head?

For this AU, I suppose we’d have to pretend that Ra’s al Ghul isn’t hundreds of years old, but rather thousands. So pretend for that this specific post he is.

Billy got a call from Nightwing. The man said he’d meant to call for Batman but had instead fumbled and called him instead for help. Cap still came to see if they needed anything. See, it turned out that Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin were all patrolling when one of them found Lazarus Pit. So, now all four of them, now with the added Captain Marvel, were all standing around the Pit watching the green liquid.

Marvel: “Geez it’s been a long while since I’ve seen a Lazarus pit.”

Red Robin: “You know what these are?”

Marvel: “Yeah, I had a friend who used them to stay young.”

Robin!Damian: “The only people who use them for that purpose of the League of Assassins.”

Marvel: “Oh? You know about the League of Assassins, Robin five?”

Robin!Damian: “Robin five…?” *looks him up and down before shaking his head* “I was apart of them.”

Marvel: “Wait, really?”

Robin!Damian: “Yes?”

Marvel: “Wow… Y’know, I haven’t heard that name in so long, and think I get to meet a real life member again. You’re sort of young, but I do remember Ra’s mentioning taking in orphans.”

Robin!Damian: “You say that like you knew my grandfather.”

Marvel: “Ra’s is your grandpa?” *looks him up and down* “I don’t really see the resemblance.”

Robin!Damian: “I’ve been told I look more like my father.”

*silence*

Nightwing: “Uh, Cheese? How do you know about the League of Assassins? Let alone Ra’s al Ghul. I would’ve thought something like this was a little too… gritty for you.”

Marvel: “What’s that mean?”

Red Hood: “He means you’re like a ball of sunshine, and that people like you don’t really associate with stuff like assassins. You normally fight mad scientists or witches or whatever.”

Marvel: “Uh… Red Hood? Your name is Red Hood right?”

Red Hood: *nods head*

Marvel: “I fight against monsters, mind control, and Nazis on an almost daily basis. This isn’t really above me.” *looks back to Nightwing* “Anyways, you asked how I knew him, right?”

Nightwing: *nods head*

Marvel: “Well, you see, a long time ago we used to be best buds!” *all smiley*

*another silence*

Nightwing: “What…?”

Red Robin: “You were best buds with the head of a- sorry, the organization of assassins.”

Marvel: “Yeah! Me and Ra’s go away back. Like thousands upon thousands of years back. I was actually apart of the original LoA if you think about it.

Robin!Damian: “So you and grandfather were comrades?”

Marvel: “Guess so. But we stopped talking ever since I died.”

Red Hood: “Huh…?”

Marvel: “I die, I revive as a new person, and then I remember who I was before, if that makes sense. That’s happened multiple times.” *trying to be as vague about the Champion of Magic stuff as possible*

Red Robin: “So you reincarnate?”

Marvel: “Something like that. It’s not really reincarnation because it’s not my soul that gets reincarnated, it’s mostly just my memories. I become a completely different person.” *looks to Damian* “That’s probably why when your grandpa and I met again, he was a little upset that I wasn’t the me he knew before.”

Robin!Damian: “You’ve both met again?”

Marvel: “We’ve met multiple times over the years. He’s still a little salty whenever he sees me, but I think it’s gone down a little bit.”

*silence*

Nightwing: “I’m still confused though! How do you just become besties with the Demon’s Head?”

Marvel: “Well, he wasn’t always the Demon’s Head, Robin one. He used to be a healer.”

Robin!Damian: “Grandfather was a healer?”

Marvel: “Yeah, he understood germ theory before literally anyone else. You know that right? He was a brilliant man, really. Anyways, when I was just a normal kid before I got my memories, we became friends. Then, when I got my powers and memories back, me and the tribe helped him take over the city.”

Red Hood: “What city?”

Marvel: “You know, the city. The one that Ra’s and his tribe took over after a king sentenced him to killing his own wife, even though the prince of that city actually killed wife.” *said all of that in one breath*

Robin!Damian: “I have a grandmother?”

Marvel: “Yup! I have no idea who your parent is though because when she died, I don’t recall them having any children.”

Red Robin: “I love how you’re dropping all of this lore like it’s nothing.”

Marvel: “Fun fact, after taking over the city, that’s when he started calling himself the Demon’s Head I think.”

Marvel continued to drop multiple lore bombs about Ra’s after that. Meanwhile, Ra’s is minding his own business somewhere else.

Ra’s al Ghul: *pauses whatever he was doing* “Something just happened…”

[flwrkid14]

Ghosts of Gotham: Tim Drake is a Halfa

Danny wasn’t exactly sure what he expected when he met Gotham’s infamous vigilantes, but “Red Hood smells like death and swamp water had a baby” definitely wasn’t on the list. The moment he stepped into the room, Danny gagged so hard he nearly fell out of the air.

“Holy Ancients,” he wheezed, covering his nose. “What in the name of all things unholy is that?”

Jason, already not thrilled about the random glowing stranger showing up, tilted his helmeted head. “What’s what?”

“That! You! You smell like—oh, man. I can’t even describe it.” Danny waved his hand in front of his face like it might help. “It’s like if ectoplasm went rancid and then you rolled in it for three days straight. Dude, do you know what’s going on with your ecto-situation?”

Jason took a threatening step forward. “You wanna say that again?”

Danny floated higher, clearly not intimidated. “Oh, I’ll say it again. You stink. And not just like regular stink. Like ghost stink. Like, ‘this is a health code violation, and the Ghost Zone is going to fine you’ stink. How are you even standing there right now? Anyone from Amity Park would be side-eyeing you so hard you’d feel it in your soul—what’s left of it, anyway.”

Jason stared, his body language radiating murderous intent. “You are two seconds away from eating pavement, Casper.”

Danny, unbothered, pointed at his own chest. “Excuse me, Phantom. Casper wishes he could pull this look off.”

“Phantom,” Dick interrupted, trying and failing not to laugh, “maybe we could focus on the introductions first?”

Danny gave Jason one last look of pity and floated down. “Fine, fine. But seriously, Big Red, we’re going to have to talk about that. I’ll fix it later. No need to thank me.”

Jason looked ready to commit murder, but Bruce’s glare cut him off before he could say anything.

Once the chaos settled, introductions were exchanged, and things calmed down—relatively speaking. Danny, as it turned out, was impossible to fully calm down. He buzzed around the room like he had endless energy, chatting and throwing out quips that seemed to simultaneously amuse and irritate everyone.

Then Danny’s gaze landed on Red Robin, and everything shifted.

Danny tilted his head, his glowing green eyes narrowing slightly. For a moment, his usual chaos quieted, curiosity taking over. “Huh,” he said softly, almost to himself.

Tim stiffened, his body going taut as though preparing for impact.

Danny floated closer, peering at him with an unnervingly intense expression. “You’re like me.”

Tim’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately stepped back, his movements sharp and jerky. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Danny said, and his tone was too soft for the others to hear the shift in it. “You’re like me. You’re—”

Tim’s hand twitched at his side, as though debating whether to reach for something or retreat entirely. “Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice low.

Danny blinked, then realization dawned on his face. “Wait… they don’t know, do they?”

“What don’t we know?” Bruce cut in, his voice sharp with suspicion.

Danny ignored him, his gaze locked on Tim. “Oh, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Tim’s eyes darted toward Danny, his frown deepening as uncertainty clouded his features. He shifted his weight, his fingers twitching at his sides as if fighting the urge to bolt.

He took a step back, then another, his movements slow and almost imperceptible. His breathing quickened, shallow and uneven, as though the air itself had grown heavier. The space around him seemed to shimmer faintly, a distortion that matched the anxiety rippling across his face.

Danny reached out, concern etched in his expression, but Tim flinched. His lips parted as if to say something, but no words came. Instead, the shimmering intensified, and with each passing second, Tim grew more translucent, his form fading like a mirage under the moon.

By the time Danny blinked, Tim was gone, leaving only a faint disturbance in the air where he had been.

The bats froze, their eyes darting around the room.

“What the hell just happened?” Jason demanded, reaching for his guns. “Where’d he go?”

“Did you do something?” Damian snapped at Danny, his hand already on his katana.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Danny held up his hands, his eyes wide with excitement. “Not me! That was all him! Holy Ancients—he can turn invisible?!” A grin split his face as he practically vibrated in place. “This is awesome! Wait—does he shoot ecto-beams too? Or, oh, what if he’s got some crazy transformation I’ve never even seen before? This just keeps getting better!”

Bruce’s expression darkened. “You need to explain. Now.”

Danny sighed, his excitement fading as realization set in. “Okay, but first, I need to go find him. Because if he’s anything like me, he’s probably freaking out right now. So… bye!”

He phased through the floor before anyone could stop him.

———

Danny found Tim perched on the edge of Wayne Industries, staring out at the Gotham skyline. He floated over cautiously, his boots touching down softly on the rooftop.

“Hey,” Danny said, his voice quiet. “Mind if I sit?”

Tim didn’t respond, but he didn’t tell him to leave either, so Danny took that as permission. He sat down cross-legged, giving Tim some space.

They stayed like that for a while, the silence heavy but not unbearable.

Finally, Danny broke it. “Okay, so… not to ruin the moment, but can we talk about how you've had to endure Jason’s ecto-stench this entire time? Because seriously, that’s gotta be a health violation. I mean, I'm half-dead, and even I think it’s concerning. Someone needs to dunk him in a pool of purified ectoplasm or something. I’m gonna file a complaint with—”

Tim laughed. It was soft and brief, but it was real.

Danny grinned, leaning back on his hands. “There it is. I knew you had a laugh in there somewhere.”

Tim sighed, his shoulders loosening slightly. “You’re… a lot,” he admitted.

“I know,” Danny said proudly. “But I grow on people. Like mold. Or fungus.”

Tim huffed another laugh, shaking his head. For a moment, the tension eased, and Danny let the silence settle again before speaking more seriously.

“Look,” Danny said, his voice softer, “I’m sorry I outed you like that. I didn’t know. And if they give you crap about it, I’ll personally make their lives miserable. But… you’re not alone in this, okay? I mean, yeah, it sucks. A lot. But you’ve got me now, because there’s no way we’re not becoming best friends now, and I get it.”

Tim looked at him, his eyes glassy but steady. “Thanks,” he said quietly. He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Do you really get it? I mean, you know what it’s like to…” His voice trailed off, thick with hesitation.

Danny tilted his head, his tone softer now. “Yeah. I know what it’s like.”

Tim let out a breath, shaky but determined. “I died.. a few months ago.”

Danny blinked but didn’t say anything, giving Tim space to continue.

“Harley—she caught me. Took me, actually. I was gone for weeks. They—she—handed me over to Joker. It was like a… gift. She thought it’d fix their relationship or something, I don’t know.” Tim’s voice faltered, his gaze flickering to the floor as if the memories were too much to hold. “I held out as long as I could. I kept fighting, kept trying to survive, but…”

He shook his head, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Weeks of it. Beatings. Electrocutions. I don’t even remember the exact moment my heart stopped. I just… wasn’t there anymore.”

Danny stayed quiet, his face a mix of empathy and understanding.

“Harley panicked,” Tim continued, his words tumbling out like a confession. “She thought she’d gone too far, that Joker would kill her next. So she tried shocking me back. Guess she half-suceeded? I only came back halfway.” He gestured at himself vaguely, his hands trembling. “I’m not the same. I’m not… whole.”

Danny nodded slowly. "You’re stuck between," he said, offering the words with quiet reassurance.

Tim nodded, biting his lip. “Yeah. Between.” He paused, looking up at Danny. “I haven’t told anyone because… how do you tell them something like that? How do you tell your family you’re not really alive? That their search was all in vain? That I still died, even though they looked so hard for me? I can’t make them think they failed.” His voice wavered. “They were so scared when they found me…”

Danny stayed with him in the silence, his presence a steady comfort.

Tim exhaled slowly, rubbing his face. “I thought I was weak. I thought if I told them what really happened, they’d think I was broken. And I didn’t want to be a burden.” He looked up at Danny. “I’m still not used to this. Not used to being… like this. I don’t even know how to control it—sometimes I phase through walls, other times I get stuck halfway. And the invisibility thing… I can’t even make it work without disappearing when I get too emotional.”

Danny’s gaze softened with understanding as he leaned in slightly, his voice steady but gentle. He hummed thoughtfully, “It’s a lot to handle all at once.”

Tim's shoulders slumped as he leaned closer to Danny, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to control it, but every time I get close, something goes wrong. And I didn’t want anyone to think I was weak or… freakish, so I kept pretending everything was fine. It was easier that way. Easier than explaining… all this.” He exhaled slowly, the exhaustion in his voice evident. “At least it was… until you showed up.”

Danny reached out, resting a hand on Tim’s arm in a quiet gesture of comfort. “I don’t think you’re a freak. You’re just different, like me. But that doesn’t make you broken. You’re still you.” He paused, meeting Tim’s gaze. “I know what it’s like.. to feel different, freakish, the whole nine yards. For what it’s worth? You're handling it a lot better than I did.”

Tim gave him a tight smile, the first real one in a while. “Thanks. It helps. More than you know.”

———

When they returned to the Batcave, Tim sat down with the others, Danny sticking close by his side. Tim took a deep breath and told them everything—about being captured by Harley, the weeks of torture at the Joker’s hands, the electrocutions that had stopped his heart. About how Harley had panicked and shocked him back to life, halfway. How he wasn’t entirely human anymore.

The family listened, their expressions ranging from horror to guilt to anger. Jason looked ready to kill someone, and Bruce’s usually stoic face betrayed a crack of regret. Tim hesitated as he explained why he hadn’t told them sooner, his voice faltering but honest.

Tim’s voice cracked slightly as he spoke, “I didn’t want you to think you failed… that you searched for me for nothing,"

Danny stayed quiet but stayed close, resting a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “For the record,” he said, glaring at the others, “if any of you give him crap about this, you’re gonna have to deal with me. And trust me, I will make your lives miserable.”

Tim gave him a small, grateful smile. For the first time, he didn’t feel quite so alone.

[buzzinrusso]

Forever

You stand at the front door of Leah’s family home, snowflakes melting in your hair and the weight of anticipation pressing against your chest. Leah’s hand is warm in yours, her thumb brushing reassuring circles across your knuckles, but your nerves refuse to settle.

“It’s going to be fine,” Leah whispers, leaning in close. Her breath is warm, the faint smell of peppermint on her lips from the candy cane she snagged during the drive.

You try to smile, but your heartbeat feels like it might drown out the sound of the Christmas carols playing faintly inside. “You say that, but they’re your parents. What if they don’t like me?”

Leah laughs softly, giving your hand a squeeze. “They’re going to love you. I promise.”

The door swings open before you can answer, and suddenly you’re face-to-face with Amanda—Leah’s mom.

“Leah! Y/n! Oh my goodness, come in, come in!” Amanda’s voice is bright and welcoming, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she steps aside and waves you both in.

You barely have time to process before Leah’s dad, David, appears in the hallway, his broad shoulders and warm smile immediately calming some of your jitters.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David says, pulling Leah into a hug before turning his attention to you. “And you must be y/n.”

You nod, swallowing your nerves. “Hi, Mr. Williamson. It’s nice to meet you.”

“David,” he corrects with a grin. “We’re all family here.”

You’re about to thank him when Leah’s younger brother, Jacob, bursts into the room. He’s taller than you expected, with the same sharp blue eyes as Leah, but his grin is mischievous.

“You’re the girlfriend, huh?” Jacob teases, folding his arms.

Leah groans. “Ignore him.”

Jacob smirks but steps forward to shake your hand anyway. “I’m Jacob. Nice to meet you. Don’t let Leah boss you around too much.”

Before you can respond, Amanda claps her hands. “All right, everyone inside! Shoes off, and coats on the rack. Dinner’s almost ready!”

You exchange a glance with Leah, and she gives you a small nod before leading you further into the house. The warmth inside contrasts sharply with the snow outside, and the scent of cinnamon and roasted turkey fills the air.

This is it. Christmas with Leah’s family. And no matter how nervous you are, you can’t help but feel a little bit excited too.

You step further into the house, the sound of laughter and the faint crackling of a fireplace wrapping around you like a blanket. Leah helps you out of your coat, hanging it neatly next to hers, and you catch Amanda’s approving glance.

“Dinner’s ready?” Leah asks, her voice light but tinged with hunger.

“Almost,” Amanda calls from the kitchen. “Jacob, set the table. And David, please keep Leah from sneaking any food before it’s time.”

Leah rolls her eyes, leaning in to whisper, “She acts like I don’t have self-control.”

Jacob overhears and laughs. “You? Self-control? That’s a Christmas miracle waiting to happen.”

You can’t help but giggle, and Leah throws a mock glare at you before pulling you toward the living room. The Christmas tree dominates the space, towering in the corner with twinkling lights and ornaments that look like they’ve been collected over decades. Stockings hang above the fireplace—three big ones labeled Amanda, David, and Jacob, and one smaller, newer one that reads Leah.

“That’s adorable,” you murmur, pointing to Leah’s stocking.

Leah grins. “Mom insisted I needed one when I moved out. She said Christmas wasn’t Christmas if everyone’s stocking wasn’t here.”

You admire the decorations, but the sound of Jacob teasing Leah from the dining area keeps pulling your attention back to the family dynamic unfolding before you. There’s something so effortless about it all—the banter, the warmth. It’s familiar in a way that makes your nerves twist again.

Leah senses it. She pulls you down onto the couch, her fingers lacing through yours as she leans in close. “You okay?”

You nod quickly, but Leah isn’t convinced. “y/n” she says softly. “They already like you. Just breathe, okay?”

Before you can answer, Amanda’s voice calls out, “Leah! Come help in the kitchen.”

Leah kisses your temple before standing. “You’ll be fine for a few minutes, right?”

You nod, even though you’re not entirely sure. Leah disappears into the kitchen, leaving you with Jacob and David.

“So,” Jacob starts, leaning on the back of one of the dining chairs. “How did Leah convince you to date her?”

You blink, unsure if he’s joking. “What do you mean?”

David chuckles, setting down the silverware he’s arranging. “Jacob thinks Leah’s too competitive for her own good. He’s convinced anyone who dates her must be very patient.”

You smile. “She’s competitive, sure, but she’s also thoughtful. And funny.”

Jacob raises an eyebrow. “Thoughtful? Leah?”

“Hey!” Leah’s voice cuts through the air as she reappears with a tray of rolls. “I can hear you, you know!”

Jacob smirks. “Good.”

You laugh again, the tension inside you unraveling bit by bit. It’s impossible to stay nervous when the williamsons make everything feel so lighthearted.

Dinner is served soon after, and as you settle in around the table, Amanda gives you a soft smile.

“yn ,we’re so glad you’re here,” she says. “Leah’s been talking about you for months, and it’s wonderful to finally meet the girl who makes her so happy.”

Leah groans. “Mom…”

But Amanda just smiles and takes a sip of her wine.

You feel Leah’s hand on your knee under the table, her touch grounding you. And in that moment, surrounded by laughter, food, and the gentle glow of Christmas lights, you start to believe Leah might have been right all along.

Dinner is a warm, chaotic affair filled with laughter, stories, and the occasional playful jab between Leah and Jacob. You quickly realize that Leah’s family has a rhythm, one that flows effortlessly between teasing and genuine affection.

Amanda keeps everyone’s plates full, while David cracks jokes that make Jacob groan and Leah roll her eyes. But no one seems to mind. It’s the kind of comfort that comes with years of shared traditions.

“So, y/n,” Amanda says as she passes you a bowl of mashed potatoes, “Leah mentioned you’re into photography?”

You glance at Leah, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Yeah, I am. I mostly do landscapes, but I’ve been experimenting with portraits lately.”

Amanda’s eyes light up. “Oh, I love that! Do you have any photos with you? I’d love to see them.”

You hesitate, but Leah is already reaching for your phone on the table. “She has an Instagram page,” Leah announces proudly, unlocking the screen and pulling up your account.

You blush as Amanda scrolls through, occasionally pausing to admire one of your shots. “These are beautiful,” she says. “You have such an eye for detail.”

Jacob leans over to take a peek. “holy shit. Leah didn’t tell me you were actually good.”

“Hey!” Leah protests, but you just laugh.

“Thanks,” you say softly, and Amanda’s praise warms you more than you expected.

As dinner winds down, David gets up to refill drinks while Jacob and Leah argue about who has to clear the plates. Amanda turns her attention back to you.

“So,” she says gently, her tone shifting. “I just wanted to say… we’re really happy Leah brought you here. She talks about you all the time, and it’s clear how much you mean to her.”

Leah groans from across the table. “Mom—”

“No, Leah,” Amanda says firmly, then smiles at you. “It’s important you know you’re welcome here. Always.”

Emotion wells up in your chest before you can stop it. You weren’t expecting this—this acceptance that feels so easy, so unconditional.

“Thank you,” you manage, your voice a little shaky. Leah’s hand finds yours under the table again, her thumb tracing soothing circles.

David returns with drinks, and the moment shifts back to laughter and lighthearted teasing. But Amanda’s words linger.

---

Later, after dishes are washed and dessert is served, Leah pulls you into the living room, where Jacob is trying (and failing) to untangle Christmas lights.

“Want to help decorate the tree?” Leah asks.

You nod, and soon you’re hanging ornaments alongside Leah while Jacob untangles the mess and Amanda hums along to Christmas songs playing softly in the background.

David sets up the star for the top of the tree, and when it’s finally in place, everyone steps back to admire the finished work.

Jacob lets out a dramatic sigh. “We nailed it. Another Christmas miracle.”

Leah laughs and leans into your side. “What do you think?”

You smile at her, then at the family around you. “It’s perfect.”

---

The tree glows softly, its lights reflecting in the windows as the snow outside continues to fall. You sit cross-legged on the floor next to Leah, sipping hot cocoa and admiring the ornaments. Leah’s head rests against your shoulder, and the sound of Jacob complaining about untangling the lights fades into the background.

David settles into his armchair with a satisfied sigh, while Amanda places a plate of cookies on the coffee table.

“Okay,” Amanda says, clapping her hands together. “Before we call it a night, we need to do presents.”

“Presents?” you ask, looking at Leah.

“Yeah, we open one gift each on Christmas Eve,” Leah explains. “It’s a family tradition.”

Jacob perks up. “And I get to go first.”

“No, you don’t,” Leah argues. “We go youngest to oldest.”

“Exactly. I’m the youngest.”

Leah throws a pillow at him, but Amanda steps in before things escalate. “Enough, you two. Jacob, go ahead.”

Jacob tears into his present—a pair of sneakers that he immediately tries on. “Perfect fit!” he declares, and you can’t help but smile at his excitement.

Next, it’s Leah’s turn. She unwraps a soft green sweater, and Amanda beams. “I knew that color would look great on you.”

Leah grins. “Thanks, Mom. It’s perfect.”

Then Amanda turns to you, holding out a small, neatly wrapped box. “This is for you, y/n”

You blink in surprise. “For me?”

“Of course,” Amanda says. “You’re part of the family tonight.”

Leah squeezes your hand as you take the gift and carefully unwrap it. Inside is a delicate silver bracelet with a tiny snowflake charm.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper, your fingers brushing over the charm.

Amanda smiles warmly. “We wanted you to have something to remember this Christmas by.”

You glance at Leah, who’s watching you with that soft, adoring look that always makes your heart race.

“Thank you,” you say, looking back at Amanda and David. “Really. This means so much.”

David waves off your gratitude. “You’re stuck with us now, mate. you might as well get used to it.”

Everyone laughs, and the rest of the evening passes in a blur of stories, laughter, and warmth.

---

Later, after everyone has gone to bed, you and Leah curl up on the pullout couch in the living room, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows across the walls.

Leah brushes a strand of hair from your face, her expression soft and sleepy. “Told you they’d love you.”

You smile, leaning in to kiss her. “You were right.”

She grins. “Say that again?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you tease, and Leah laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

Outside, the snow continues to fall, blanketing the world in white. And inside, wrapped in Leah’s arms, you feel something you haven’t felt in a long time—home.

The walk back to the house is quiet, your boots crunching softly in the snow as Leah’s fingers remain intertwined with yours. The weight of her confession—I love you—lingers in the air, warm and steady despite the chill.

When you step inside, the house is alive with energy again. Jacob is sprawled across the couch playing one of his new video games, while David is still fiddling with the drone’s remote control. Amanda, ever the multitasker, is humming along to Christmas music as she prepares lunch.

Leah tugs you toward the kitchen, where Amanda glances up and smiles.

“Enjoy your walk?” Amanda asks, setting down a tray of freshly baked cookies.

“It was perfect,” Leah replies, sneaking one of the cookies before her mom can swat her hand away.

Amanda eyes the two of you for a moment, her smile softening. “You both look happy,” she says gently.

Leah leans against the counter, her arm brushing yours. “We are.”

Amanda seems satisfied with that answer and turns back to her cooking, giving you and Leah a moment alone.

“Ready for round two?” Leah teases, gesturing toward the living room.

You raise an eyebrow. “Round two?”

“Board games,” Leah says, her grin widening. “It gets competitive. Fair warning.”

You follow her back to the living room, where Jacob is already setting up a game of Monopoly.

“Oh no,” you mutter. “Not Monopoly.”

Jacob smirks. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

Leah drops onto the couch next to you. “Don’t let him intimidate you. He cheats.”

“I do not cheat!” Jacob protests.

David looks up from his drone. “You definitely cheat.”

Amanda walks in with a tray of drinks. “He absolutely cheats.”

Jacob groans. “I can’t believe my own family is turning against me.”

You can’t stop laughing, and before you know it, the game has started. It’s chaos from the very first roll. Leah buys up all the railroads, Jacob tries to build a hotel empire, and Amanda keeps making quiet, strategic moves that everyone underestimates until it’s too late.

By the time lunch is ready, Leah is bankrupt, Jacob is begging for loans, and Amanda is quietly collecting rent from everyone.

“Remind me never to play Monopoly with your mom again,” you whisper to Leah as Amanda sweeps the board clean.

Leah laughs. “I tried to warn you.”

---

After lunch, the day slows down. You and Leah curl up on the couch again, this time watching old Christmas movies while Jacob naps in the recliner. Amanda and David sit nearby, quietly talking and occasionally exchanging glances that remind you of Leah’s soft looks.

You catch Leah watching you during the movie, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the bracelet Amanda gave you.

“What?” you ask softly.

“Nothing,” she says, smiling. “Just… I’m really glad you’re here.”

You reach up, brushing her hair back. “Me too.”

She leans in, kissing you gently, and for the first time all day, everything around you fades. It’s just you and Leah—your Leah—wrapped up in each other.

---

That evening, after dinner and more desserts than you probably should’ve eaten, you help Leah clean up the kitchen while Amanda and David sip wine by the fire.

“Did you have a good Christmas?” Leah asks, drying a dish and setting it aside.

You glance at her, your heart full. “The best one I’ve ever had.”

Leah pauses, looking at you like she wants to say something important. Her lips part, but before she can speak, Jacob bursts into the kitchen.

“Guys! It’s snowing again. You’ve got to come see!”

Leah rolls her eyes but grabs your hand, pulling you toward the door. Outside, the world is blanketed in fresh snow, the flakes falling gently under the glow of the porch lights.

Jacob and David are already starting to build a snowman, and Amanda stands nearby, laughing as they bicker over how to stack the snowballs.

Leah turns to you, brushing snowflakes from your hair. “You ready to make this a tradition?”

You tilt your head. “What? Spending Christmas with your family?”

“Yeah,” Leah says softly. “And everything else.”

You smile, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around her. “Only if you promise to always be this competitive with board games.”

Leah laughs, pulling you in for another kiss as snowflakes swirl around you.

---

The day after Christmas is quieter. The excitement of the holiday has faded into a cozy calm. Amanda and David take a drive into town to look at post-holiday sales, and Jacob has locked himself in his room, determined to beat his new video game.

You and Leah stay behind, curled up on the couch under a shared blanket. She’s scrolling through her phone, occasionally showing you funny memes, but your own phone buzzes with a text from your best friend, Emily.

Emily: So? How was it? Survive meeting the parents?

You smile, your fingers flying across the keyboard.

You: More than survived. It was amazing.

You glance at Leah to make sure she’s still preoccupied before slipping out from under the blanket and stepping into the kitchen for a little privacy.

Emily responds almost immediately.

Emily: Amazing?? Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?

You: I’m serious, Em. They’re incredible. Her mom is so sweet, and her dad had me laughing the whole time. Even her brother is hilarious in a slightly annoying way. They made me feel like I belong.

You hesitate before typing the next part.

You: I don’t think I’ve ever felt this accepted before. It’s like they already saw me as part of the family.

Emily’s reply comes just as fast.

Emily: I told you they’d love you. But honestly? It sounds like you love them too.

You pause, rereading her words. She’s right—you do. It’s only been a couple of days, but being around them feels so natural, so effortless.

You: I think I do. And Leah…

You stop typing, suddenly feeling the weight of everything—the way Leah looks at you, the way her family welcomed you without hesitation, the way this Christmas felt so much more than just another holiday.

Emily: And Leah what? Don’t leave me hanging.

You’re about to respond when a soft noise catches your attention. Turning, you see Leah leaning against the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed but her expression unreadable.

Your stomach drops. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” she says, stepping closer.

You panic. “I wasn’t saying anything bad��”

“I know,” Leah interrupts softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I heard what you said.”

You bite your lip, unsure what to say next, but Leah steps in, closing the space between you.

“You love them?” she asks quietly.

You nod. “I do. They’re amazing, Leah. They’re so warm and welcoming, and I’ve never really had that before.”

Leah’s smile grows, and she brushes her fingers over your cheek. “You belong here, you know? They think so too.”

Your breath catches. “I really do feel like I belong.”

Leah leans in, kissing you softly before pulling back to rest her forehead against yours.

“And me?” she whispers. “Do I make you feel like you belong?”

You laugh softly, relief washing over you. “You’re the reason I feel that way.”

Leah grins and kisses you again, longer this time. When she finally pulls back, she’s practically glowing.

“So,” she says, her voice light and teasing now. “You’ve been gushing about my family behind my back, huh?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Don’t make it weird.”

She laughs, tugging your hands away. “Never. I love that you love them. It means a lot to me.”

Her words are sincere, and you feel your heart swell.

“Come on,” Leah says, taking your hand. “Let’s go join Jacob before he accuses us of being lovebirds again.”

You let her pull you back toward the living room, but not before sneaking one last glance at your phone.

You: I’ll call you later, Em. But yeah… I think I found my forever.

And as Leah laces her fingers through yours, you know you mean every word.

---

The evening settles in slowly, the soft glow of the Christmas tree filling the living room as snow falls gently outside. Leah’s parents return from their trip into town, arms full of shopping bags, while Jacob finally emerges from his room to brag about beating the final level of his game.

Dinner is casual—leftovers and sandwiches—and afterward, everyone sprawls out in the living room again. Amanda curls up with a book, David fiddles with his new drone, and Jacob flips through channels, searching for something to watch.

You and Leah sit tucked into the corner of the couch, wrapped up in a shared blanket. Her arm is around you, and your head rests against her shoulder as the quiet hum of family fills the room.

“Comfortable?” Leah murmurs, her voice low and warm.

“Very,” you reply, nestling closer.

Her fingers trace absentminded circles against your arm, and you let your eyes drift shut, savoring the moment.

Jacob eventually lands on an old Christmas movie—one of those cheesy romantic comedies that Amanda insists is a classic. You’re only half-paying attention, but Leah’s occasional comments about the unrealistic love story keep you smiling.

After a while, the movie ends, and Leah’s parents start cleaning up while Jacob disappears upstairs again. The house grows quieter, and you feel yourself growing heavier, sleep tugging at the edges of your awareness.

“You tired?” Leah whispers, brushing her lips against your hair.

You nod sleepily. “A littlee.”

“Come on,” she says softly, helping you stand. “Let’s go to bed.”

---

Upstairs, the guest room is dimly lit, the bed piled high with extra blankets. Leah pulls you into her arms the moment you climb in, wrapping both of you up in the warmth of the covers.

“Today was perfect,” you murmur, your head resting against her chest.

Leah’s hand strokes your hair gently. “It really was.”

You tilt your head to look up at her, catching the soft smile playing on her lips. “I can’t believe how much I love your family already.”

Leah’s eyes soften. “They love you too.”

You smile, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “And I love you.”

Leah leans down, kissing you slowly, her lips lingering as if she never wants to pull away. When she does, her voice is barely above a whisper.

“I love you too.”

You tuck yourself back into her arms, her heartbeat steady beneath your ear. The weight of the day—the laughter, the warmth, the love—settles over you like the heaviest, coziest blanket.

“darling?” Leah’s voice is soft and sleepy.

“Hmm?”

“Thank you for coming with me.”

You smile, your eyes already drifting shut. “Thank you for bringing me.”

She holds you tighter, her breathing slowing as she begins to fall asleep. And as you listen to the quiet rhythm of her breaths, you realize something.

This—Leah, her family, this home—isn’t just a place you’re visiting.

It’s where you belong.

And with that thought, you let yourself drift off, safe in Leah’s arms, knowing this Christmas is only the beginning of forever

___

HELLOOOOO ,let me know just u find any mistakes I didn't proof read it!!

[downbad4sylus]

“You kept your name”

(part 2 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus take a ride to an eerily familiar field of flowers on the outskirts of the N109 Zone.

content: sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; pre-relationshipish; cameo from the twins; smol angst; tooth-rotting fluff; kissing; possibly canon divergence (i make shit up about present-day sylus since we don’t have all the answers yet); mostly proofread

word count: ~3k (whoops)

tags: @evilldentists; @midiplier; @chillycheem

a/n: incredibly grateful for all the love for the first part so hope you all enjoy the second part just as much!!! anyone interested in a nsfw special part 3 >>;;;)))))

You had a much easier time falling back to sleep than you thought you would. Perhaps the exhaustion of reliving your past coupled with a weight you didn’t even realize you’d had finally being lifted off your shoulders.

When morning came, you woke again nestled in the same position you’d fallen asleep in, head resting on Sylus’s chest listening to his unusually rapid heartbeat. Though now, you supposed, it wasn’t quite so unusual.

You lifted your head and found Sylus still asleep. It was rare for you to wake before him, and you always took the time to admire his sleeping face. Carefully, you ghosted a finger toward his face, intent on lightly tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the shape of his lips—

Sylus’s hand snatched your wrist. “Having fun?” he drawled, not even opening his eyes.

“You ruined my fun before I could start,” you whined, sticking out your bottom lip.

Sylus chuckled and laced his fingers through yours. “Surely you’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

“I guess,” you muttered.

“How generous.”

You propped yourself up by your forearm as Sylus finally opened his eyes to meet your own. “Are you sure it’s okay we go? I know you don’t like being out during the day.”

He brought your linked hands to his face, twisting them to brush his lips along the back of yours. “I’ll be fine,” he assured. “It’s supposed to be overcast today anyway.”

“Okay, as long as you’re sure.”

“I always am with you, sweetie.”

Your heart squeezed. Such an innocuous statement yet it held profound meaning.

Sylus sucked in a deep breath. “Let me at least make us breakfast first before we go.”

You perked up. You loved it when Sylus cooked for you. “Do I get to sit at the island and watch?”

He chuckled. “Of course.”

Hardly able to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, dragging Sylus along with you out of the bedroom, into the hallway, all the way to the kitchen. You didn’t even give the man a chance to put on pants.

Rather than sitting at the island, as it was much too far away from him, you perched on the counter beside the stove, watching Sylus expertly cook two perfect omelets. Once they were plated, you both sat at the island, so close your thighs were touching. Before you could pick up your fork and knife, however, Sylus had already cut a piece of his omelet and was holding it in front of your face.

“Open,” he commanded.

You obeyed, cheeks heating as you opened your mouth and he placed the bite on your tongue.

“Now close,” he purred, sliding the fork from your lips, eyes trained intently on yours. “Good kitten.”

Trying very hard not to choke, you chewed the savory bite, moaning at how good it was. Sylus’s lips twitched in smug satisfaction.

“It’s so good, Sy,” you said after you swallowed, already digging in to the omelet on your own plate.

“Only the best for you, sweetie,” Sylus quipped, taking a bite himself.

Sylus insisted on feeding you once he scarfed down his omelet faster than you could keep track of. You protested at first, saying you weren’t a child, but when he pinched your chin and drawled in that deep, silky voice of his “You’ll be a good kitten for me, won’t you?” you folded instantly.

Cheeks as red as his eyes, you let Sylus start feeding you the remaining half of your omelet, losing yourself in the intimate moment—

“Boss? Miss Hunter?”

Your head whipped to the side before you could take the bite Sylus offered, eyes going wide when you found Luke and Kieran standing at the edge of the kitchen. Even with their masks on, you knew they had shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Uh, hi…guys,” you muttered, swiveling on the stool, giving them your back, too embarrassed to face them.

“Were we interrupting something?” Kieran asked.

Sylus placed a hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly. “Just breakfast,” he stated simply.

“Why are you having breakfast, Boss?” Luke asked. “You aren’t usually awake at this time.”

“Y/N and I are going on an impromptu trip today, which means you’re both in charge while I’m gone.” His voice took a bit of a sharp edge as he said, “I don’t want to be bothered.”

“Of course, Boss,” said Luke.

“You can count on us!” finished Kieran.

Sylus hummed in approval, squeezing your thigh. You looked over at him and was surprised that he was holding another piece of omelet for you to eat.

“Sylus,” you hissed, eyes darting over to where the twins now stood across the island. Did this man have no shame?

He tilted his head. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” he asked teasingly. “Not hungry anymore?”

“Can we have the rest of your omelet, Miss Hunter?”

You turned again, now looking at the twins. The thought of having them witness Sylus feeding you was enough to make you lose what was left of your appetite.

You snatched the fork from Sylus’s hand, threw it onto the plate, and pushed it toward the twins. “Knock yourselves out.”

They cheered their thanks and immediately dug in, lifting their masks only enough so they could shovel fork fulls into their mouths. You ignored Sylus’s frown and instead grabbed his wrist, leading him from the kitchen back to his bedroom.

Around a half hour later, you and Sylus had changed (the man had a closet full of clothes just for you, obviously) and were making your way to his bike.

Staring at the sleek motorcycle, you wondered idly if Sylus preferred riding to driving because it reminded him of flying. You’d ridden on the back of his bike enough times to know he frequently ignored speed limits and you’d even caught him a few times without a helmet. You weren’t sure if the half-crazed lecture you’d given him about not caring about his safety actually got through to him, but Sylus made sure to have a helmet on every time you saw him after that. Not that it mattered, only you could kill him anyway, but that didn’t mean you wanted him to get injured.

Knuckles rapping softly on your forehead tore you from your thoughts.

“Did I lose you, kitten?” Sylus asked with a smirk.

“Sorry,” you breathed. “I was just…thinking.”

His head tilted. “About what?”

You gnawed at your bottom lip, unsure whether to share said thoughts with him.

Sylus pressed his thumb against your lip, tugging it free from your teeth. “Don’t bite your lip,” he murmured. “Tell me what you were thinking.”

“I was wondering if you like riding your bike because it reminds you of flying.”

His brows twitched closer, his lips teasing a frown. You instantly regretted what you’d confessed, the last thing you wanted was to upset him.

“I’m not upset,” he said, easily reading your facial expression. “Just a bit caught off guard.”

“Why?”

“Because you only just remembered our past and you’ve already figured me out.”

You thought back to the puzzle pieces that had been put in place after you’d woken from your memories, how easy it was to understand the Sylus before you now and how his actions reflected the Sylus you’d known then.

You smiled. “I feel like it’s less impressive when you’ve had an advantage over me this whole time,” you protested jokingly. “You figured me out pretty quick, too.”

Sylus chuckled. “I guess that makes us even then.” He reached behind him, grabbing the helmet he’d gotten for you (yes, it had cat ears), and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting it up. “You ready?”

“Yes,” you answered firmly.

He placed the helmet over your head, buckling the strap beneath your chin, and gave it a soft tap when he was finished. He then put on his own helmet before swinging his long leg over the seat, gesturing for you to join behind him.

Seated on the bike, arms wrapped securely around Sylus’s waist, he took off onto the streets of the N109. Your surroundings blurred as he weaved his way through the zone, heading toward the outskirts.

Closing your eyes, you imagined you were on his back while he flew you through the sky. It was freeing, affording you a newfound appreciation for rides with Sylus. Perhaps now they could be reminiscent of the past for the both of you, not just him.

It didn’t take long before the N109 Zone faded into the background, Sylus now riding down a long stretch of road with open fields on either side. There were no flowers though, so you wondered where, exactly, he was taking you.

Your destination became clear however, when a shock of red greeted you on either side of the road.

Sylus slowed the bike to a halt, kicking down the stand and cutting the engine. As he took off his helmet, you remained still, looking out at the field of red flowers that was just like the one in your shared dream. How was this possible? Was it merely a coincidence that these fields existed in this lifetime too?

Your helmet being unbuckled and lifted off your head broke you from your stupor and you found Sylus standing in front of you, waiting patiently with a hand outstretched. You took it, letting him support you as you climbed off the bike. He laced your fingers together once both your feet were on solid ground, and led you forward, into the flowers.

It was surreal, walking through the field beside Sylus. It felt like two worlds colliding, past and present melding together. It made your heart flutter with excitement knowing that this time would be different. This time you’d be damned if you didn’t get your happy ending.

Sylus stopped abruptly, giving you no warning before plopping onto the ground, dragging you down with him. You squealed as you fell into his lap, giggling as he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

The first time Sylus found this field of flowers, no different from the one outside of Tarus City, he’d nearly been brought to his knees. He wasn’t one to believe in signs but this one felt undeniable, too much of a coincidence to not mean something. It was before you’d officially met, but it gave him an unfounded confidence that once you did, he’d have his beloved again. He’d promised himself then that he wouldn’t come back here unless it was with you, and now, he’d fulfilled that promise.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, threading your fingers through Sylus’s soft hair.

He hummed, the noise vibrating against your skin. He placed a single, chaste kiss on your pulse point before pulling away and meeting your gaze. “Ask your questions,” he said gently.

You pursed your lips as you decided where to start. “Are you still a dragon?”

Sylus huffed, amused. “Well,” he began, sucking in a breath, “yes and no.”

You raised a brow in silent command for him to continue.

“I’m more human than I am dragon now, but not fully either,” he said.

That certainly explained the strange comments he would make every so often.

“Do you still have wings?”

He nodded.

“Horns?���

Another nod.

“Tail?”

“Yes, kitten, all three.”

You looked at his head, thinking if you stared hard enough, his horns would appear. “But…where are they?”

“Hidden away by my Evol,” Sylus answered. “It takes a lot of energy to do so.”

“Is that why the sunlight bothers you? Is it easier to keep them hidden during the night?”

Sylus smirked. “Clever kitten,” he said, all the confirmation you needed. “What else?”

“Can I see them?” you blurted.

His brows rose in surprise. “Not right now.” When you pouted, he added, “Some other time, when we’re in private.”

“Fine,” you relented. You glanced down at where his arms encircled your waist and slid a hand over one of his. “The linkage is my doing.”

“That’s not a question,” Sylus teased.

“I know,” you said. “Just wanted to get it out in the open, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“When did you realize it was my curse?” you asked instead.

“The first time,” he said simply.

You snorted. “Of course you did.” You lifted your head to meet his striking red eyes. “Is there anything you’re bad at?”

Sylus barked a laugh, causing your heart rate to increase. “I’m sure there’s a few, but I haven’t figured out any of them yet.”

“Ugh, your arrogance is immeasurable sometimes.”

But you still love me, was what Sylus wanted to say, but settled on, “What other questions do you have for me?”

A thought occurred to you suddenly and you sat up straighter in his lap, brows drawing together. “Did you make me shoot you to see if I actually wanted you dead?”

The bastard grinned. “Maybe.”

You slapped his shoulder. “Sylus!”

He was laughing, but damn it did you love to hear him laugh. “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

You shook your head. “You’re insane, that’s what you are.”

“An important trait needed for the leader of Onychinus, something you haven’t shied away from.”

“Guess I’m a bit insane as well,” you muttered.

“Guess so,” Sylus agreed, smiling.

You softened, unable to stay annoyed with him when he looked at you with such tenderness, something he reserved only for you.

You reached up and lightly traced beneath his right eye. “You kept your name.”

“If you couldn’t pronounce my true name, I’m pretty sure no one else would be able to either,” he teased.

You chuckled. “You’re right, Sylus is much easier to pronounce.”

“And it was given to me by my beloved, how could I not keep it?” he murmured.

His beloved. You were his beloved, then and now.

And he was still your dragon, even if the dragon part was currently hidden.

You leaned away from him, something he nearly growled at, but stopped himself when he watched you pick a nearby flower. With a soft smile, you tucked it behind his ear, then slid your hand down to his chest, the same spot you’d once placed a flower in his scales. The same spot he’d hidden the brooch that allowed you free passage through his territory.

“Flowers suit you better than the N109 Zone,” you murmured.

A heartbreakingly tender smile lifted the corners of Sylus’s lips. “That’s the first time someone said those words to me.”

You felt like crying.

“Only you and this flower”—his eyes flicked toward his ear—“can touch me here.”

Sylus picked a flower of his own and placed it in your hair, then cupped your face, running his thumb along your cheek.

Feeling such an undeniable pull toward him despite being already so physically close, you shifted in Sylus’s lap to straddle his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck. He sucked in a sharp breath at the new position, the hand on your face sliding to brace the back of your head.

Running your fingers through the hair at his nape, your eyes darted between his and his lips.

“Do you have any more questions?” he asked breathlessly.

“Just one,” you said.

“What is it?”

“Can the N109 Zone have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see?”

“Only for one person.”

Sylus’s lips crashed into yours.

He was firm but gentle, angling your head right where he wanted you as his tongue swept over your bottom lip. You opened for him, whimpering when his tongue slid along yours.

Sylus’s kiss was claiming, taking what was rightfully his. He’d been waiting for this moment since he first laid eyes on you in this lifetime. Waiting for his beloved to come back to him.

Tightening his grip on you, Sylus flipped you onto your back, his body pressing against yours, all without breaking the kiss.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging on his strands. Between kisses you managed, “I want…to touch…your horns.”

Sylus groaned and you felt it rumble through his chest. He finally broke away from your lips only to trail open-mouthed kisses across your jaw and down your neck. “Not here,” he said roughly.

You would’ve been more upset had his lips not felt like heaven on your skin.

“Sylus,” you said, pulling his hair to get his attention.

He lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and ears red. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said, cupping his warm cheek. He nuzzled against your palm. “I love you, Sylus.”

Air whooshed from his lungs and his lips were on yours again. Your souls may have been bound but Sylus was still in disbelief by your confession, even though you’d all but said it last night. Fate—who had always been cruel to him—had finally turned in his favor. There was no curse to separate you this time, only one to keep you by his side. This was a second chance for the both of you, to love each other freely, to explore what life could truly be like together, and now that he had you, Sylus would scorch the earth before he ever let you go again.

He drew back, waiting for you to look him in the eyes before saying, “I love you too, Y/N.”

You huffed an incredulous laugh, tears welling as you stared at the man you loved. Your dragon, with you once again.

Sylus’s loving gaze took on a dangerous glint. “How about we head back to the base and I’ll show you my horns, sweetie?”

With a wide grin, you nodded. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

Sylus chuckled, placing one last kiss against your lips before hefting you off the ground.

Then hand-in-hand, dragon and sorceress, having been given a second chance at love, walked through a field of flowers where once life ended but now a new one could begin.

[skipper1331]

you wish you were me // Leah Williamson

a/n: inspired by this iconic performance

Your friend group was out in the local bar, celebrating a birthday. Your mate had just turned 26 and in her eyes, every birthday was there to celebrate it, so that‘s what you did.

You had a lovely dinner at her favourite restaurant and were now down for some drinks.

So here you were in a bar between the smell of alcohol and sweat, playing a card game.

"Wanna spice things up?" your best friend asked with a mischief grin.

"Tell me" the birthday girl replied, very interested in what your bestie had to say.

"Don‘t even listen to her" you argued when the suggestion came that who ever would lose the next card game had to do karaoke, "and the winner is allowed to choose the song"

But there was no point in arguing because everyone was loving the idea.

-

"Oh come on" you huffed as you lost while the other girls cheered.

"This will be fun" your best friend laughed as she ordered some more shots. You surely would need them. You couldn’t go on stage as sober as you were right now.

Drowning the next two rounds of shots, you stood up, the winner whispering the choice of song in your ear, so it‘d be a surprise for everyone.

Thankfully, it wasn‘t an awfully long song nor even a proper song. It was 'You wish you were me' by Trish which she sang in the series 'Austin and Ally'

I can deal with that, you thought, I wont see most of these people after this anyway.

Walking towards the karaoke guy, your best friend talked to him, your nerves on a rise. So many eyes looked at you.

your friends cheered, "Go girl!!" enjoying themselves very much while you were about to run. You hated being the centre of attention.

Fuck it

"You‘ve got this" y/bsf/n said, handing you the microphone, walking back to where your friends sat.

Weirdly when the music started playing you felt relaxed, in that moment the motto “yolo” was all that mattered.

"I‘m so much better than youuu" confidence starting to rise, "I’m a ten, you‘re a two" signaling with your hands your words.

"I‘m a queen, you‘re a fool" you pointed a random person in the bar who was a blonde girl, her friends cheering and gasping loudly before they started laughing.

"I‘m a throne, you’re a stool" you walked and danced on the stage, not caring at all, "you‘ll never be this cool"

"No-Ooh"

"I sing to you on this stage"

"I‘m at the top of my game"

"I‘m a star and you‘re lame"

once again you pointed at the blonde girl.

You grabbed some coins out of your pocket, "I‘m cash and you‘re change" dropping them on the floor.

"You‘ll never have my fame" you sang

not knowing that the blonde woman was actually someone fame, someone who had captained her country to the European championship and winning the trophy.

"So-Ooh"

"You wish you were me"

"Got everything you need"

"Got no time for jealousy"

"I, I"

Slowly the song came to an end, "Yeah, you wish you were me" being the last sentence before you did a mic drop and hit a pose.

The whole bar started to cheer, happily amused by the performance.

Quickly though, you picked up the mic, embarrassed about the move, sincerely apologizing to karaoke guy before you hurried back to your friends.

"That was awesome!" the birthday girl yelled, "best birthday ever!" hugging you.

And just as that the night continued.

"You have an admirer" your best friend whispered, nodding her head in the direction of the blonde who you‘d pointed at the whole time.

"I think she‘s about to kill me" you brushed her off, taking a sip of your drink.

"No, look at her, she‘s been eyeing you all night. Go talk to her!"

"What? No. Do you want a drink? I want one" you changed the subject, already getting up.

"Your glass is half full"

"No it‘s not" and with that you left.

Pah! As if the blonde woman was seriously not thinking about killing you yet you had to admit, she was gorgeous. Maybe you should apologize-?

You were about to order another drink when someone next to you beat you to it, "put whatever she wants on my tab, please" the person said, that person being the blonde woman, "that was quite a performance, aye?"

"Oh no, you don’t have to-" you tried, happy to pay for you own drink or maybe pay for hers (?) - you didn’t know.

"I want to. I’m Leah, Leah Williamson and you are?" she smiled, her smile so genuinely that maybe, just maybe she didn‘t want to kill you.

-

"Aye, Mrs Williamson, you wanna sing a song for me?" Leah mocked, pulling you into her grasp.

"Baby! I apologized for that already several times" you whined, the defender peppering kisses to your cheek.

"What can i say? If it wasn't for the song, I wouldn't be able to call you my wife today"

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

author's note | i saw a text post ages ago that i cannot find that inspired this. here's a vaguely disguised new years themed fic and some pwp to celebrate. not to get sappy on a blowjob fic but i'm very thankful for this community and the ideas that have been shared, love you all <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, established dynamic, idiots in love, shy!reader, joel being a quiet lover in public but loud in private, this is a deeply emotional blowjob y'all buckle in, unprotected piv.

word count — 2k

“Am I gonna have to shut you up just so I can tell you how pretty you are?” Joel snarks, only half-joking.

You hated compliments.

Joel loved giving them.

It was a slow work in progress, trying to feel comfortable with the showering of words, the outward affection Joel showed in private. 

He appreciated that you weren’t big on public displays, enjoyed the idea of keeping you and this, all to himself.

But, he liked you—had for some time. It took months of courage before he could bring himself to admit it. It was after a long night of patrol, a grueling walk to your last stop. You had both collapsed in exhaustion on the dirtied couch in the lookout far west of Jackson, delirious with sleep when the words finally left his lips. 

Even then, as he spoke, your hands found their way over your face, the heat of embarrassment prickling your skin as you shied away from him.

He’s learned to do it in subtle ways—a smile, longing looks, a touch, learning that love could be translated in many ways, not just words.

Besides, he wasn’t all that good at words anyways.

You decided to drag him back to your house after the annual New Year's celebration in Jackson—Tommy insisted that it was something to celebrate.

Another year of survival, another year without detrimental loss. Every day was something to cherish, but the party was a way to take a weight off of everyone’s shoulders.

You and Joel had never nailed down exactly what you were doing—just that you enjoyed it, you liked him, and he fancied you. He said it all the time, even now as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You are so old-fashioned,” You snorted softly, helping him strip the thick winter coat down his shoulders, torn on one sleeve still from a fight with another small group. You had promised to stitch it up. You were good on your promises, he knows you’d get to it eventually. 

He separates from you briefly, placing it carefully over the barstool in your kitchen before he’s pushing you up against your couch, your ass pressing against the hard edge of the back, nearly tumbling as he presses his lips against yours again, your hands curving around the back of his neck as you kiss him back in earnest.

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” He teases, “I know an old man who’s real good at makin’ you scream.”

You giggle softly, “Hush,” You chastise him, allowing him to lead you blind until you both could land on the couch safely, straddling his lap as he worked at your jeans, fitting his hands underneath the denim and cotton of your underwear as he squeezed at your ass, cupping the flesh tight in his hands as you gasp, nudging your nose against his as you breath into his open mouth, “You and that mouth, I swear.”

Joel chuckles, eyes opening to yours closed, hiding your face away as you mouth at his neck, pressing gentle kisses into the skin as he squeezes at your ass harder, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily.

“There she is,” He says with an air of wonder, like he’d just discovered something new, his overgrown curls tickling at your nose, “s’just me and you—don’t be shy.”

“I’m not—“ You argue, “you know I’m not.”

You widen your legs, grinding down against the growing length beneath the zipper of his jeans, leaning back as his eyes drag down your body, slipping his hands from your jeans to squeeze at your thighs, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth with your lazy rhythm.

“I know, baby,” Joel coos, “need me to fuck you? Don’t you?”

You nod fervently, “Please—Joel, please.”

Your lips part, perching forward to grip into the collar of his shirt as you lazy movements become more frantic, face contorting in pleasure as your tongue glides along your bottom lip, distinctly aware of Joel’s affectionate gaze.

“Fuck—never gonna get tired of that,” Joel speaks aloud, one hand rising to cradle your face as his thumb drags over you wet lip, “how pretty you look when you get needy—pretty all the damn time, but—“

You kiss him quick in an effort to silence him, his laughing blending into a groan as you bite down on his bottom lip, stripping your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before you’re reaching for his belt, loosening it while he licks into your mouth, the subtle taste of malt liquor on your breath.

It matched his own, sharing a drink with him earlier in the night as he hid away in the corner of the room, as he often did at parties, too eager to get his hands on you as he watched you work your magic, gracing your smile upon everyone that passed, keeping up small talk that Joel would rather not suffer through. 

“Got a request,” He tells you, speaking against your lips as you hum in question, “how much d’ya want me to beg to get those lips around my cock?”

You giggle softly, wordlessly you move toward the floor, working against his jeans before he’s helping you shove them down far enough that he can scoop his balls into his hand, rolling them against his fingers as he wraps his other hand around his cock, pushing his thumb over the head as he guides it into your waiting mouth.

It was always a stretch, even like this.

You apply a gentle kiss before your lips spread, the faintest taste of precum at the tip of your tongue before you’re guiding your mouth down his cock, the salty taste of the velvet skin around him, a musky but sweet taste to the opaque liquid gathered at the slit.

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” He breathes, running his finger through your hair as he pushes it back, his other hand hovering nearby, curling into a tight fist as you press your nose into the thick patch of curls at the base, “shoulda stuffed this mouth sooner, seems to do the trick.”

You gag against his forceful movement, burying the head of his cock into your throat so far his teeth clenched, leaving you effectively silenced.

“S’that what it took, a mouthfulla’ cock and you won’t stop me from complimentin’ you for once?”

Beggars can’t be choosers, he’d take it.

And such a pleaser you were, you had a job to do.

Usually he revels in the feeling, subdued and quiet while he watches you work, skilled hands and an exquisite mouth to match, he’d hit the jackpot somehow. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” He encourages, allowing you up for air for a brief moment as your spit slick mouth drools down his shaft, tears brimming your eyes, “fucking beautiful takin’ it all in like that—more?”

You nod, watching as he grips his shaft, tapping the mushroom shaped tip against your lips, teasing you as you slip your tongue along his shaft, guiding you back as you chase his movements.

“Work for it, baby,” He insists, “show me how bad you wan’ it.”

Impatience grows, you huff through your nose as you swat his hand away, wrapping your own hand around his cock instead, your mouth covering what your fingers couldn’t, your other hand cupping his balls, rubbing a single finger down the seam of his sack as you twirled your tongue around the dripping head, lapping up his cum at this slit.

“That’s right, lookin’ like a goddamn dream. Eyes on me, sweetheart,” He beckons, with you peeking through tear-stained eyes, silenced as your mouth is stuffed full of him.

Eventually, your tongue trails along the vein at the underside of his cock, reaching the seam of his sack before you’re rolling his balls along your tongue, sucking them between your lips with a wet noise that causes Joel to groan, his hand squeezing in your hair at the scalp.

“I would keep you like this for hours if you’d let me, wish you could see how fuckin’ amazing you look, gotta know how lucky I am to have you—I am, I’m so lucky, baby.”

In any other context, you would cry. 

It scared you, hearing the admission. The love Joel felt so immensely, the love that terrified you—because when things get too serious, they always go south. 

It was easier to keep things light—fun, simple. As much as you had found a home in Joel, nested in between his ribcage, around his heart—it was still constricting.

Physicality was easy to detach from.

Words, however, meant the world to you.

You couldn’t hear those words unless, in his heart, he truly meant them. Even then, it still terrified you. But, he had you now. Locked on his gaze, the words tumbling from his mouth like a dam finally breaking—you were done for.

“Stick your tongue out,” He orders gently, watching you move away to follow his order, rubbing the head of his cock over the wet, fleshy muscle, “always listenin’ so well, too,”

You feel the heat in your face return as you close your eyes to avoid his intense gaze, sucking him down eagerly as you shift from your haunches to your knees, hurrying your pace as he begins to fall apart, pathetic grunts of half pleasure and half plea filling the room.

Shamelessly, you swallowed him down again as he pressed against the back of your throat, holding yourself in place until he collapsed against the back of the couch, his hands tangled into your hair carelessly as you gagged, a distinct sound that brought Joel over the edge in an instant.

“Oh—oh, fuck. Darlin’, I fuckin’—“ His orgasm surges quickly to the surface, the warm of his cum spreading against your tongue as you swallow him down without hesitation, “God, I’m so in love with you,”

You can feel him shudder against your tongue, cock twitching as you remove him from your mouth, his chest releasing a sigh as he reaches blindly for your hand, silently begging you to come to him. You crawl slowly, careful as you position yourself over him again, his hand pushing your fallen hair away from your face as he pulls you in, breathing heavily into the lazy kiss he presses against your lips.

“Been tryin’ to tell you for so long,” Joel admits with a fond tone, “you’re always shuttin’ me down,”

“I’m sorry,” You admit softly, “S’just—words mean more to me than you think.”

“Oh baby—I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Joel assures, “I’m not throwin’ that shit around lightly. I mean it—every fuckin’ bit.”

You let the conversation fall silent, eyes scanning over his relaxed expression.

“Is that what it took, though?” Joel teases, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing against the plush skin, “Gotta shut you up with my cock to tell you all the nice things you deserve to hear?”

“It does help, doesn’t it?” You counter with amusement, his face cracking into a smile, the skin beside his eyes creasing with emotion as you laugh, his own mixing with yours.

“It does,” He agrees with a chuckle, pulling you forward gently to curl his hand around the back of your head and pull you into his chest, echoing a quieter, “It does.”

Still undressed at the waist, Joel nips at your skin, a tell-tale sign of his persistence.

“Slow down, cowboy,” You tease, “It’s almost midnight—can’t have you skippin’ out on our kiss.”

“Better yet, I can start it off inside ‘ya,” He bargains, a deal that seemed far too good to pass up.

Joel is eager in his attempts to get you undressed from the waist down, shrugging his shoes and jeans off completely before you straddle his lap, gripping his cock with a delicate hold, slipping it inside of you slowly, enjoying the contortion of Joel’s expression as your walls squeeze around him. 

You can hear the muffled celebration off in the distance as Joel whispers something unintelligible into your skin, nudging your shirt up high enough with his nose until he can get his mouth on your skin, aiding the slow bounce of your hips with his hands as he pants, “I love you too,” You admit, “f’that wasn’t already clear.”

“Crystal, darlin’—but it is nice to hear.”

There was no rush for now, enjoying the sensation of each other’s bodies in a way that consumed you both, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as you spoke into his open mouth.

“Happy New Year,” You tell him, fighting through your own quiet giggle.

Joel nods in approval, humming, “S’right—Happy fuckin’ New Year.”

[corkinavoid]

For @mysterious-messages, to 'Bless the child' by Nightwish

DPxDC Long Time No See

The crow was incredibly persistent. Which, of course, made it ten times more annoying in John's opinion, because he was trying very, very hard not to pay attention to the pitch-black bird with blood red eyes that was perched right outside the window.

Can't he have one single night where no impossibly powerful force of nature interrupts his attempt to drown himself in liquor? Honestly.

The crow knocks on the window again. Three perfectly timed knocks; this bloody bird sure knows how to draw attention, but it also definitely knows Constantine is avoiding it. Which is why it's insisting on making itself a nuisance, no doubt.

To be fair, John is not even entirely sure who's crow is it. Morpheus has a crow at his disposal, but his crow is a bitch. He wouldn't have simply sat on the windowsill and enjoyed annoying Constantine for the sheer spite of it. Death has her crows as well - very thematic, if you ask John - and then there was that one asshole raven that claimed itself belonging to Apollo.

And then, of course, there was-

Actually, maybe he should see what the crow wants. Might be important, after all.

Constantine sighs and puts his whiskey back on the bar before standing up. The world tilts to the side a bit - he might have had a few too many drinks, yeah. But then maybe it's just the side effect of the messenger crow being here, who knows. Constantine would rather put his money on the latter for the sake of his dignity. Not that he has much of that left.

He makes his way to the window, looks at the crow for a long moment, making his last internal debate obvious, and then opens the window.

"The hell do you want?" He asks, but quickly realises it was in vain.

He is not at the bar anymore.

Instead, he is standing in the middle of a graveyard, surrounded by tombstones, fog, and eerie silence. 4/10 on the creepy effect, John has definitely seen this shit done better.

The cloaked figure sitting on the nearest tombstone stays silent, watching him with unblinking, blood red eyes. John sighs again, pinches the bridge of his nose, and reaches into the pocket of his trenchcoat for cigarettes. If he ended up out of the bar anyway, he might as well use it for a smoke break.

"I'd rather you not," the cloaked being says, not a demand but a request by the sound of it. Constantine grimaces, but puts the pack back in the pocket. Arguing with this one will get him exactly nowhere.

"What's this all about, then?" He vaguely gestures around himself, at all the death, decay, and other things that start with the letter 'D'. "I never knew you're into this kind of thing. Very Mary Shelley of you," he raises an eyebrow.

The being - the Dead God, the Ghost of Time, Clockwork, Chronos, and any other name he likes calling himself - huffs a deep, low and breathy laugh. Then, he stands up, his feet firmly planted on the ground for once. He looks different to how John is used to seeing him, all sharp edges and monochrome colors, shiny leather oxfords and loose sleeves with tight cuffs.

Honestly, he kind of reminds Constantine of vampires. He really hopes this is not actually some kind of a new kink of his because John so didn't count on that kind of night. Despite what he's said before.

"No," Chronos shakes his head, his appearance shifting from young to middle-aged. Constantine blinks; if there's anything he learned about the Dead God through their various get-togethers, it's that his age usually reflects his level of seriousness.

But he doesn't have time to ask, nor does he get a moment to prepare, when a child, a literal goddamn child no older than ten steps out from behind Clockwork.

It looks like a boy, dressed in jeans and a blue hoodie with a NASA logo on it, and- He does look like Clockwork. Same pale skin, same eerie, unblinking eyes, same unearthly air around him.

Only, his eyes are a faint blue, like ice and winter skies. Like Constantine's eyes.

The unholy fuck. And he means it literally.

"Is that-" he starts, his throat suddenly dry, pointing his finger at the boy before he even thinks about it, but the Ghost of Time laughs again, a dirty grin on his lips.

"Yours? No, thank the Ancients," he says, making sure to sound just a tad bit offended even if John can see the mirth on his face. Bloody wanker. Constantine lets out a slow, loud breath through his nose.

"Amen to that," he agrees and looks at the kid again. And, as soon as the initial shock wears off, a sneaking suspicion starts to form in his mind. He narrows his eyes. "I don't want to ask, I really don't, but I'm going to anyway. Why?"

Clockwork's face looks distant for a moment, his features shifting into old.

"A child blessed by time has no home in his own life. A child blessed by death has no place among others," he says, and John hates when they speak in riddles, but he thinks he might be getting this one right. "I am only loved when I'm gone, the moments being held dear in memory. But a child does not deserve that," Clockwork's voice sounds almost sad, and, while John does understand it's supposed to be a metaphor, it doesn't feel like one.

But then, he is the Time itself. Maybe for him it's not really a metaphor.

He looks back to the kid, and catches the boy looking away with a grimace. Seems like they have at least one thing in common - they both hold a great distaste to Cronos' solemn way of talking.

Constantine is so going to regret this, but he knows where the Dead God is leading.

"Yeah, okay," he rubs his face with one hand, and, before he has time to ask or say another word, the whole graveyard is gone, and he is standing back in the bar, the low murmur of nightly crowd and warm light around him. Just like before he opened the window to the blood-eyed crow.

The only difference between then and now is the kid standing by his side, looking at him like John is the stupidest man he'd ever seen. Oh, he is already regretting this.

Constantine drops his hand down and goes back to the bar, where he left his drink.

"Want a beer?" He asks, and the kid rolls his eyes, trailing after him.

"I'm twelve," he deadpans, and, yeah, okay, he's got a point.

Fuck it, he is calling in a favor from Bats. That man has, like, twenty kids, he should have some parenting advice.

~•~•~•~

Yeah, the song really reminded me of Clockwork for some reason. Why am I loved only when I'm gone? is really stricking me as a line written for him because you only cherish the time after it's gone, you smile at your memories and pictures, but you rarely ever pay attention to it in the moment.

Also, I did my best with the Gothic aesthetic there, and here's the additional vibe.

Clockwork, just dropping a random ass kid on his occasional one night stand and vanishing into the night, knowing that John Constantine has a soft spot for kids and won't just fuck off to who knows where: it's for the greater good the better timeline

Danny, left alone with a clearly too drunk to think magician whose soul looks like a jigsaw puzzle: the fuck it's not

[neptilius]

I feel like a lot of people write gojo when he’s being playful or sarcastic but could you write moments where he’s serious or he’s genuinely having a heart to heart with the reader?

yesss i love these concepts! in my opinion i think he’s sexier when he’s more serious because we rarely see that side of himmmm 😛

“i quit.”

satoru froze in the middle of adjusting his jacket, the sound of your voice cutting through the quiet in the room.

he turned to look at you, his brow furrowing as confusion painted his features.

“what?” he asked, his tone laced with disbelief. his eyes narrowed as he studied your face, trying to make sense of what you just said.

“i quit,” you repeated, your voice steady but quiet.

you were done. done with the constant pressure, the constant fear of what might happen next. done with the world you had found yourself in, a world of curses, jujutsu sorcery, the thought of losing yourself completely, of dying before you even had a chance to live, had become too much to bear.

satoru’s eyes softened, but the confusion never left. “babe… you can’t just quit. not like this. not when things are tough.”

“and why not?” you shot back, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

“why do you think i have to keep doing this? why do i have to keep risking my life, getting dragged into these fights, and walking away with more scars every time? i’m just… tired of almost dying.”

your words hung heavy in the air between you two, and for a moment, the room felt suffocating.

“you’re not the only one who’s tired,” he said softly, but there was a firmness beneath his words that didn’t match the softness of his expression.

he took a step toward you, like he was trying to reach out to you in the only way he knew how. “but quitting isn’t the answer. when things get tough, you don’t just quit.”

he didn’t understand. how could he? he was Satoru Gojo. nothing fazed him. he was invincible, or so it seemed. but you weren’t like him. you didn’t have that same untouchable strength. you were just human, and your body was starting to feel the toll of everything you had been through.

“you wouldn’t understand anyway,” you muttered, barely able to meet his gaze. “i don’t know why i even bothered telling you.”

the words felt like a slap in the face to him, and you immediately regretted saying them. his eyes hardened, but the anger didn’t burn, not the way it normally would when he felt disrespected.

“don’t say that,” he replied, his voice low, almost too gentle.

“i may not understand what you’re going through, but that doesn’t mean i don’t care. i’m not gonna let you throw everything away just because it’s hard. if you quit, you’re just letting the world win.”

“maybe that’s what i want,” you shot back, the bitterness slipping out before you could stop it.

“maybe i want to stop fighting. i’m exhausted, satoru. fighting, training, always putting myself in danger for some cause that doesn’t even feel like mine. all i’ve done is survive—barely. and for what? to risk my life over and over again? i’m done.” you exhaled sharply, trying to hold back the tears that had been threatening to spill. “i just don’t care anymore.”

satoru’s expression shifted. there was no anger, no frustration anymore, just a deep sadness. he stepped closer, closing the distance between you two until there was barely any space left. he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his fingers curling around the fabric of your shirt.

“i get it,” he said softly, the words so different from the usual brashness of his character. “i get that you’re hurting. but you can’t quit. not like this. not because it’s hard. i won’t let you give up on yourself. i can’t.”

he paused, his thumb gently brushing your skin as his eyes locked onto yours, as if searching for something.

“look, i don’t know what it’s like to be where you are. i don’t know what it feels like to be on the edge of giving up, but i do know this: you matter to me. a lot. and i’ll fight beside you because i care about you. i care about you more than you know.”

the sincerity in his voice cut through you like a knife, and despite yourself, your heart ached.

“i’m not letting you quit,” he continued, his words steady. “if you want to stop fighting, that’s fine. but you’ll have to do it with me. i’m not going anywhere.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the weight of your emotions threatening to break free. you had been so consumed by fear, by exhaustion, that you had almost forgotten the one thing that truly mattered. not the curses, not the missions, but the people who cared about you. and the one person who was always there, even when you tried to shut him out.

you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a shaky breath. “i just don’t know if i can keep doing this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “i’m scared.”

“i know you are,” he replied, his hand gently cupping your face.

“and that’s okay. but you don’t have to be scared alone. i’m here, and i’m not letting you go through this on your own.“

you stared at him, the weight of his words settling in your chest. maybe you couldn’t quit. not like this. not when you had someone who would stand by you, even in your darkest moments. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough to keep going.

[jenscx]

[47] DAYLIGHT — REPORTED MISSING

jimin follows you blindly, forced to keep up with your pace like a lost puppy. she’s not sure whether to ask you any questions currently, seeing how you angrily (were you upset?) stalk to the nearest restaurant. the original arrangement had her heart racing in excitement but now? jimin can’t lie and say she’s not worried about the outcome.

in her head, she had a sure fire way for you to forgive her. but all her plans had been thrown away after the appearance of your ex. jimin had to clench her fists to control herself, not that she would dare to do anything… but it’s the thought that counts right?

weaving through the doors, a waiter comes up to guide you to an empty seat. you march to the restaurant’s corner and quickly sit down. jimin follows obediently. she resists checking her phone, knowing that the group chat was probably blowing up with questions. anyway she already replied to them, saying that she was perfectly fine and no, she had not been kidnapped.

“uhm, so…” jimin starts awkwardly, “should we order first?”

you shake your head, stating, “this won’t take long. let’s talk first.” jimin’s face falls slightly but she conceals it with a cough. but really, what was she expecting? you still haven’t answered her from before. what if you weren’t over your ex? was jimin a rebound? god, she really shouldn’t have said all that about you two not dating.

scrunching her nose, jimin forces herself to stare at the empty plate and utensils in front of her.

“what did she talk to you about?” tilting her head up, jimin asks. a small part of her stays curious but another part of her fears the answer she might receive.

“she wanted forgiveness.”

“oh. okay,” jimin swallows her saliva, “did you forgive her?”

you only offer a vague smile, “there’s nothing to forgive.”

an uneasy feeling takes over jimin. nothing to forgive? it doesn’t seem like nothing. the past few conversations that you had with her about hyewon seemed to bother you a lot. jimin had vowed not to do the same and to treat you with care but maybe you started to think otherwise?

“uhm… okay. how have you been…?”

“i’m okay. still the same.” your answer only fuels the anxiety within jimin. you were okay without her? witthout you, jimin felt depressed. well, an exaggeration but you can’t blame her!

“a-are you sure you don’t want to order?”

you sigh, exasperated but fond, “if you want.”

your reply eases some of jimin’s nerves as she lists down all her orders to the waiter. whilst waiting, jimin sparks a conversation by asking about your cat, who she misses dearly. sometimes you would send photos of bobo but now all she gets are the tweets she sometimes stalks.

“—his birthday’s coming up soon, i’m thinking about a little pet party with aeri’s dogs too but bobo doesn’t like hanging out with them much,” you say, showing jimin a few photos of your cat lying down. jimin’s smile dims again when you mention aeri. she had totally forgotten about that girl! and she was the reason why jimin felt insecure in the first place!

“oh… that’s… cool,” she replies eloquently. you raise an eyebrow but you don’t prod on her weird behaviour.

“what have you been up to?” you ask.

other than missing you? she can’t say that.

“y’know… just making content… filming stuff. i filmed a vlog with chaewon, maybe i’ll edit it when i go home.” safe. safe answer. jimin’s proud of herself for keeping it cool.

“that’s, that’s good.”

“uhm, yeah,” jimin winces at her own voice crack, “damn. i’m hungry.”

you smile but your tone turns firm, “maybe we should talk.” jimin stiffens up, a looming dread hanging over her head. despite the awkwardness, she was still happy to continue avoiding talking about everything. yet, at your solemn expression, jimin finds no way of backing out now.

“ah, right,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. you reach out to take a sip of water while jimin’s eyes lingers on the mark left on the glass by your lips.

clearing your throat, you look down, choosing to stare at your hand, twirling the fork around.

“i… i’m sorry,” you mumble. jimin’s chair screeches slightly as she shifts forward, shocked. “for what?”

“for just,” inhaling sharply, your voice comes out wobbly, “assuming things. i shouldn’t have assumed we were dating or anything.”

jimin’s eyes widen considerably. your admittance was completely unexpected. never in her wildest dreams had she anticipated your apology. she watches as you smile wearily, “i thought wrong. i shouldn’t have gotten upset when you thought i liked aeri.”

she wants to deny it, say that you weren’t in the wrong for holding this relationship so dear to your heart. jimin knows she does too. but the fear she felt when she found out you had history with another girl outweighs her empathy greatly. shit, it wasn’t even considered history. you were friends for god’s sake.

your mouth dries up at jimin’s silence. suddenly, all your previous confidence of talking things out disappears. an uncomfortable silence stretches on. did jimin… does she not want you anymore? your heart sinks, reaching the furthest depths of your stomach. maybe jimin realised that you were too much. you hadn’t spent too long with her but the teetering hope of having someone as sweet and silly as jimin attracts you like a magnet. there’s a nagging voice in the back of your head reminding you that going on one date doesn’t count as dating. calling someone at midnight doesn’t count as dating. your feelings don’t label anything. so what if you like her? that’s a crush. it feels so childish to say.

“say something?” you whisper, “please?” jimin looks completely out of it. swallowing back tears, you turn away from her, knowing she might crush your heart entirely with one single word.

“i— well, this is… i’m sorry,” you shut your eyes, preparing for the worst, “i’m sorry too! i mean. for being stupid and saying that you liked aeri. we didn’t have a label on this and it just made me insecure— not that you did anything to make me feel that way, it’s my own personal feelings! but uhm, where was i again? ah, whatever, but you’ve given me so many chances too even though i was being dumb, so i’m really sorry,” she rambles on. a weight gets lifted off your shoulders. you glance at jimin, watching a splash of maroon paint her cheeks.

“i liked that you thought we were dating!” jimin exclaims shyly, “it’s just, i’m not very good at this whole relationship thing and i suck at communication. we did start off not liking each other… i like you now, though! and uh, hopefully you like me too? still?”

you can’t resist the smile that overtakes your face. her sheepishness was definitely doing something to your heart. you don’t know what feeling it was, but it felt good. happiness blooms in your chest, like the first flowers of spring. damn, you really should have talked things out first.

“y-yeah, i do. i like you a lot,” you say, gazing adoringly, “you’re silly for asking if i’m over my ex, by the way.”

jimin huffs, a sight that you store mentally, “well! we weren’t really talking and i was worried! how was i meant to know… know that you…” she falls silent, unable to say the words out loud, “anyway! you call her unnie? you don’t even call me unnie.”

rolling your eyes, you sigh, “you act so childishly, how am i supposed to call such a childish person unnie?” unable to refute, jimin chooses to pout. laughter tumbles out of your mouth at her cuteness.

a beat passes. you look back at jimin, halfway deciding whether to coo or gag over the look on her face. like christmas had come early.

“what are you staring at?” you choose to ask, trying to regulate your racing heart. jimin shakes her head, “just thinking… if we should start over? like, go on proper dates. for real this time. we’re actually dating.”

you don’t even give it a second thought. yet, the hopeful puppy look on jimin’s face makes you want to tease her. pretending to ponder, you sigh, “should we?” jimin nods fervently, as if trying to convince you. perhaps if she truly were a puppy, you would spot the tail wagging behind her.

“only if you get to platinum in overwatch.”

“wha— hey!” jimin’s surprised voice is the last thing you hear before you both burst out in laughter.

masterlist | next

TAGLIST ! @wallfl9wer @seullovesme @twicesserafim @klvarchives @rinapomu @pandafuriosa60 @jisooftme @cwpiqwon @yoontoonwhs @xen248 @r4cjh @dni-unavailable @yukianism @i3lia @ryujinsdimple @httpisaoki @haerinsloverr @masuowo @multiliker @edenzeepy @yeetaberry127 @saysirhc @somedaydream @sixflame438 @drvirgus

[strnilolover]

Oh mah goodness, huge idea

HEAR ME OUTTT

Dealer!Chris and Soft!Reader, alright?

Soft!Reader has been going on, and on, about wanting a kitten, puppy, hamster, just something small, soft and cute!

(Everyone gets fluffy animal fever; it's understandable)

ANYWAY-

Dealer!Chris, well while he's out doin' Dealer!Chris things, he finds a kitten, it looks a little bigger than your average kitten, but he's still a lil' scrawny baby boy.

Well, Dealer!Chris sends a picture to Soft!Reader saying how cute this stupid lil' kitten is and she wants it SOOOOO BADD

LIKE, IT ISNT FUNYYYY

Well, he goes to pick the lil' silly guy up, BUT when he picks this guy up, another one comes up and this little grey one comes up as well. In conclusion, he brings both to her, and she is PREPARED.

The second she got that text she went and got stuff for said kittens, food and water bowls? Check. Litter box with a bag of litter? Check. Toys? Check. She is simply ready for these scrawny little Kittens.

Anyway, as the author you can go bananas w/ this, but this is what I imagined them to look like :3

Obviously, they're scrawnier when he picks them up, but this is what they look like when they're happier and healthier!

For names do wtv <3

chris leaned against his car as he finished texting you back. you’d been on a tear lately, going on and on about wanting something soft and small to take care of—a kitten, a puppy, even a hamster. he’d tease you about it, calling you ridiculous, but really, he loved how excited you got every time you brought it up.

so when he had stepped out of the car and spotted a tiny orange kitten sitting under a streetlight, its big eyes staring up at him, chris froze.

“hey, little guy,” he said softly, walking over and crouching down. the kitten meowed, a weak, squeaky sound that tugged at his heart. it was scrappy, a little bigger than a typical kitten but still scrawny, its fur sticking out in patches. chris grabbed his phone, snapping a quick picture before texting you.

CHRIS: you’d lose your mind if you saw this lil guy. he’s kinda scruffy, but he’s cute.

he didn’t even have time to put his phone away before it buzzed.

YOU: OMG CHRIS BRING HIM TO ME NOW.

YOU: PLEASE. I NEED HIM.

chris laughed under his breath, shaking his head. “of course you do,” he muttered to himself, reaching out to gently scoop the kitten up in his hands. but just as he did, a tiny grey fluffball stumbled out from behind a nearby dumpster, its meow even weaker than the first one’s. chris froze again, his heart squeezing.

“no way,” he murmured, his voice impossibly gentle. the grey kitten wobbled over to him, brushing against his shoe before sitting back on its haunches to stare up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

he smiled to himself, pulling out his phone once again.

CHRIS: update, the orange guy brought his little sidekick.

YOU: ARE YOU KIDDING ME.

YOU: BRING THEM BOTH. CHRIS, I’M BEGGING YOU.

he shook his head fondly, crouching down to carefully pick up both kittens. the orange one meowed indignantly but settled against his chest, while the grey one curled up in his arm like it had been waiting for this moment.

when chris knocked on your door, he barely had a chance to breathe before you yanked it open, your arms full of soft blankets and your face glowing with excitement.

“where are they?” you demanded, bouncing on the balls of your feet. chris grinned, stepping inside and gently lowering the kittens into your waiting arms. “right here, angel,” he said.

you gasped, cradling the tiny creatures like they were made of glass. “oh my God,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes. “chris, they’re perfect.”

“they’re kinda scrappy,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “but i figured if anyone could make ‘em feel loved, it’s you.”you looked up at him, your face impossibly soft. “chris,” you said quietly, “you’re the sweetest person alive.”

he ducked his head, embarrassed but smiling. “yeah, well, don’t go spreading that around,” he mumbled. you set the kittens down gently on the couch, letting them explore, before throwing your arms around chris. “thank you,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest.

chris wrapped his arms around you, his chin resting lightly on your head. “you’re welcome,” he murmured softly. as the kittens began to climb over the blanket you’d spread out, you clapped your hands excitedly. “okay—we have to name them!” you say, sitting down on the couch near the tiny babies.

chris smirked, sitting down beside you. “alright, what’re we calling them?” you tapped your chin, staring at the orange kitten who was batting at the grey one’s tail. “this one,” you said, pointing to the orange fluffball, “is definitely marmalade. i mean, look at that color!”

chris chuckled. “marmalade? alright, that’s solid.” he glanced at the grey kitten, who had curled up into a tiny ball after the scuffle. “and this one?”

“hmm…” you frowned in thought before your face lit up. “smokey! because of his fur!” chris nodded, smiling softly at you. “marmalade and smokey. i like it.” you turned to him, your eyes sparkling. “they’re perfect,” you said

chris reached out to scratch marmalade behind the ears, watching as smokey batted at the edge of the blanket. “yeah,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking back to you. “they really are.”

you smiled once more, before your expression changed. “oh!—i already have everything for them!!” you stated excitedly, getting up quickly and darting off into the kitchen. you returned moments later, carrying a bag fully of cat things. food bowls, toys, cat food—you name it, you had it.

chris’ chuckled in disbelief. “baby, how did you even get all that before i got home? i had the car.” he asked, and you just giggled. “i got these delivered…as fast as i could get them delivered.” chris just smiled, nodding his head as he accepted that fact.

chris always loved seeing you so happy.

a/n : sorry it’s so short but i loved writing this (and sorry it took so long)

[migueloharasbitvh]

Ahhhh! You’ve blessed us again! How do you spend your free time-Lately I’ve been doing scrolling in bed ;-; but when i’m not doing that I usually study, go to the gym, or hang out with friends/family. If I’m not doing those I usually just text my bf.

What are some hobbies and how did you get into them-I LOVE reading and baking, usually I bake cookies or muffins, but I kinda want to try macaroons. I’m also trying to crochet, which hasn’t been progressing, but it okay! I can just give the ugly plushies to my bf lol. I also love sports! And I usually drag my friends with me to play haha

what book or movie left a lasting impression on you-As I said before; I love to read, so I’m not sure if I can even pick a favourite;-; but out of all of them, I love mobby dick. It’s just a classic yk. And movie wise I’d have to say rush hour, it’s just so fun to can’t 😭

what kind of music do you enjoy-I used to like pop, but somehow my boyfriend converted me to liking rock, I won’t dwell on it to much but I LOVE slipknot with a passion, or a close second guns and roses

who is your favourite character (atm of all time) and why?- I really like Miguel Ohara, he’s just—anyways I really like how much he’s trying to save others, while at the same time ruining himself, and I don’t mean that in a omg I like Killy and Stan Stan bleach blah blah, I just admire him a lil-a lot-maybe more then a lot.

Dk much people soooo—

tag + q&a game ₊˚ෆ

hello! i thought it would be cute and exciting to do a tag game with all my mutuals to not only talk about themselves, but have fun! so here is my short little game:

alongside this picrew, share 5 things about yourself!

• how do you spend your free time? • what are your hobbies and how did you get into them? • what book or movie left a lasting impression on you? • what kind of music do you enjoy? • who is your favorite character (atm or all time) and why?

i will start first!

my name is rurumi and i enjoy spending my free time writing!

some of my hobbies (outside of writing) includes: drawing, building gundams and keyboards, and fashion! i got into most of them on a whim and became instantly hooked. aside from self-expression, being into fashion also helps with making friends in college because you always have something to talk about!

a book that left a lasting impression on me would have to be either kafka on the shore by haruki murakami or before the coffee gets cold by toshikazu kawaguchi. both stories have kept me up at night thinking a lot about the 'what ifs' in life.

i enjoy soul/r&b alongside anything of jrock influence, but i will basically listen to anything that sounds good. i am currently listening to 'so what' by lucy!

my favorite character at the moment is rin itoshi from blue lock because hes so ridiculously edgy, but at the same time i sympathize with him a lot. on the other hand, my favorite character of all time is suletta mecury from the witch from mercury series, she's an absolute ball of sunshine that i aspire to be.

tagging (+ no pressure) ₊˚ෆ

@kaiser1ns @naenaex0xx @shomatoriashi @choccorin @ryescapades

@rindreamery @soleillunne @kissxcore @rainswept @mitsvriii

[franike]

COLD LOVE

Thanos x reader

Authors note: I love him sm there is not enough fics about him, also sorry about my english •+• ALSO i added a character I hope yall don’t mind🙏 THIS FIC WILL HAVE MORE PARTS

It was just a normal day. You were taking the subway home after finishing your day at college. It was hard to pay for all college expenses and you already worked two jobs. As thoughts ran through your head someone approached you.

“Wanna play a game?” It was a strange man - he was tall, had short black hair and also wore a neat suit.

“Uh sure why not”

The game was called ddakaji. You get a piece of folded paper and another one is placed on the floor. The goal is to throw your piece of paper and flip the one on the floor to the other side. You played a few rounds and won every single one.

“Congratulations” The strange man told you as he handed you a card. Before you could say anything else he left leaving you confused. You took a good look at the card. The front of the card had a circle, a triangle and a square drawn on it and the back of it had a number. You looked at your phone for a second before calling the number from the back of the card.

“To play the game state your name and date of birth”

…

You were sitting in your apartment and thinking. What did I just sign up myself for….but i need the money. The pickup date is five days from now on. You looked at the picture on your table. It was a picture of you and your ex that disappeared one day, well not really but he disappeared for you. You still saw him on social media but that’s about it because one day he just said he can’t be with you anymore and left. What an asshole…but you still cared about him just a tiny bit. Perhaps if he died you would be a bit sad.

…First day at squid game…

You woke up at a bed in a big room. There were about 400 other beds and about 400 other people. What is this… You thought as you looked around when all of a sudden someone called out your name. You looked back and saw your friend, Claire.

“CLAIRE what are you doing here?”

“Ah i got myself into a debt..” Claire explained while uncomfortably touching the back of her neck. You didn’t mind however, you were also in a debt just for school, not for…. Anyways soon some guards came to the front and started explaining how this works. All of a sudden some people started complaining about literally everything.

“What about my shoes huh? They’re limited edition!”

Oh no…Its him. Its Thanos. Your ex. What the hell was he doing in here? Did he not see you? What a pain…Soon the first game started, it was green light red light. Pretty easy. That was until someone got shot in front of you because they moved at red light. You started to panic. It soon turned into green light but you were frozen. You felt like you were gonna faint and as soon as it was red light your knees gave out. However someone stood in front of you so you wouldn’t get seen. It was green light again and the person who previously stood in front of you took you by the forearm and forced you to run with them. You turned to look at the person and it was him. Thanos. Again.

“You really need to be more careful”

“Shut up freak”

He just smirked at you and continued the game. How unfortunate that you ended up in the same situation as him. Soon the game was over. Thanos approached you and started to talk to you.

“So why are you here?”

“I’m not gonna tell you”

“Wow calm down ice queen, it was just a question.”

How annoying can a person be. Even after you gave him the coldest glare you could he just simply smiled at you.

“So you’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave me like some trash huh?”

To your surprise he stopped smiling, but only for a second before he was back to his usual self. He tried to wrap his arm around your shoulders but you pushed him away. The audacity of this man. You started walking away and he started to yell something at you.

“This isn’t over Y/N! You can’t run away from me so easily!” He started to laugh and went back to some guy. This is going to be long six days….

TO BE CONTINUED….

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Soulmate AU I 2k I Rated Mature I idiot4idiot

The thing about linking with your soulmate, you never knew when it was going to happen. There were horror stories about it happening during weddings to someone else or while performing heart surgery or landing a plane, but linking was so rare, stories like that seemed more like fairy tales than cautionary ones.

If anyone had asked Eddie what he thought about it, he would've said the odds of there being some guy out there destined to be his mate, let alone that he'd have to worry about linking during some critical moment, were astronomically low.

He'd be wrong.

Because his ears are ringing, his vision has tunnelled, and there's an empty vacuum where his usual chaotic thoughts should be. All signs pointing toward-

Hello?

Jesus H. Christ, not now! Not right now, this cannot be happening now. Quick! Think of something else! Uhhh… Golems! Ice golems! Or maybe frost giants. Yeah! Not having hate sex with your arch nemesis. Shit! Stop thinking about it! Frost giants, frost giants, frost giants!

Hate sex? He hears echo around his noggin next. Arch nemesis?

Fuuuuuck. No, darlin’, don't even worry about that stray thought! Nothing to see here. I'm, uh, baking! Yeah. Brownies. For a charity bake sale

A long pause, empty space between them, before he says, I don't believe you. I think you are having sex

Sex?! He screeches. How dare you! I would never!

You would. Go balls deep into a guy you don't even like, sounds like to me. Class act.

Oh god, there’s gotta be a way to salvage this.

No, let me explain, please!

Knock yourself out

Right. So, this guy, I know him from school, right? And he was always kind of a jerk. The space between them pings with a sort of stung feeling but Eddie doesn't understand how any of this works yet so he ignores it. But we end up having a few mutual friends, and this one really weird event happens that forces us to, like, team up, I guess. After all that I'm spending more time around the guy and he's not so bad. Invited me over to smoke up with him, which was cool. I'm gonna be totally honest, I'm not sure how exactly we got here, the sex part, but it’s pretty hot and heavy, kinda aggressive, so… yeah. Hate sex I guess

Soulmate is quiet again. His feelings bleed through anyway, at least Eddie's pretty sure that's what he's getting. It feels like embarrassment and disappointment.

You okay? Did I scare you off?

You don't like the guy at all? You said arch nemesis

Oh. Uh. Well… How did he explain to his future partner, if he hadn't already ruined it, that he likes him plenty, he's just been holding him at arms length, metaphorically, because he assumed the guy was straight? Up until roughly twenty minutes ago. He should probably start with honesty.

No, I like him okay. He's not as bad as I'd always thought. We give each other shit but I'm pretty sure it's just left over bullshit stereotypes from high school. I bully him about his music taste, he bullies me about my shitty van. That type of thing

…Right

He waits to hear back from his soulmate but he's not very talkative. That's okay, Eddie can talk enough for both of them.

So, what were you up to when we linked? Not driving I hope

He can hear the guy sighing over the link, which is worrying.

You'll never believe it, but I'm also having sex at the moment

Seriously? That's hilarious

Yeah. A hoot

Not having fun?

I was. But I recently found out the guy doesn't like me that much. So, yeah, real mood killer

Oh man. That sucks

Oh my god. Yeah, it really does. Kinda wish he'd get off of me so we can get the awkward part over with but he's distracted at the moment

Doing what?! Eddie yells, offended on his behalf.

“He’s busy not realizing he linked to the guy he was hate fucking.”

Huh?

“Eddie, open your fucking eyes.”

That's Steve talking.

He blinks his eyes open to see Steve looking up at him. He's not pleased.

Wait

“Yeah.”

Oh my god

“As impressive as it is that you managed to stay hard through that whole thing, I'd appreciate it if you-” He hisses as Eddie, rudely he realizes, pulls out without warning.

He scrambles to the end of the bed, bunching up the comforter around his junk. “I'm so sorry, fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry. I don't… I didn't…”

He can't fix this, he starts to slowly comprehend. He's made Steve think he hates him.

“Nah, it's cool. I get it.”

I don't hate you, I swear. You have to believe me

“Sure, Eddie.” He's yanking his briefs back on, angry and trying not to show it. “You just don't like me much.” Can't believe I did this again. So fucking stupid

Eddie's certain he's not meant to hear any of that but he responds anyway.

You're not stupid. Please let me explain

“You already did. And I am fucking stupid,” he snaps. “Here I thought we were flirting this whole time and you thought we were bullying each other. That's real fuckin’ stupid of me. I'd convinced myself you actually-” He snaps his teeth shut but Eddie can still hear the unfinished -liked me. “I really wish you would control your feelings, dude. You're broadcasting your horror straight into my head.”

“I don't know how to stop,” he quietly admits.

“Well if you'd ever shown up to health class you'd know how to control it.”

I never thought I would get a soulmate

Steve's surprise at that pings around his brain before he does what Eddie can't and shuts it down.

“I did. I've been thinking about it for years.”

And you ended up with me… And I ruined it before we even got started. I ruined it. Steve Harrington is my soulmate and I ruined it. What the fuck

“You don't have to say it like I'm some kind of prize.” He steps into his jeans and tugs them back up to his hips, not even bothering to do them up. Which is- “I guess it's nice that you think I'm hot. That's something. Maybe we'll be the first casual hookup soulmates.”

He has to fix this. Somehow. Think, god damnit! Wait! That's it! He just has to show Steve what he's thinking!

“I wish you wouldn't.”

“Too bad!” He snaps back.

Okay, as embarrassing as this is about to be, he has to tell the truth.

Eddie was in the 8th grade, Steve in 7th, when they first met. Or, when Eddie first noticed Steve anyway, they never really spoke to each other, their cliques already established by then. But Eddie can remember it like it was yesterday. It was lunch, Eddie was walking by with his bagged PB&J, when he heard it. Steve laughing. It was so joyful, Eddie didn't even know what he was laughing about but it made him smile anyway. Of course one of Steve's shitty jock friends caught him staring and called him a queer freak but that wasn't unusual.

“What the fuck, Eddie? Why do you remember that? And how are you so good at visualizing?”

He ignores the questions to move on to the next memory. Eddie's sophomore year they somehow ended up in the same Shop class. Again, they never spoke but he got to watch Steve work, tongue poking out while he concentrated, the proud look on his face when he whittled some hunk of wood into a recognisable shape.

“I forgot about that. It was a dolphin. I was dating Chelsea Hosteller, they were her favorite animal.”

“Lucky her.”

“Hey, fuck you, man, you're the one showing me this shit! What am I supposed to assume from any of this? You thought I was cute? So what? You clearly don't like who I am as a person, so what difference does it make?”

He's not going to have the patience for every single moment, and they're a lot of them, Eddie realizes that now. So he speed runs through them, making sure to send every bit of feeling through their link.

Steve in his Scoops outfit, luring Eddie to the mall but never making him brave enough to go in. The horror of not knowing whether Steve was alive or dead when he heard about the mall burning down. The joy of finding him at Family Video, somewhere he had reason to visit.

You never even talked to me there

Listening to every word to every story Henderson told him about Steve and his bravery. Pretending to be annoyed so no one noticed he was eating it up. Getting to know the real Steve over Spring Break, the giddiness he couldn't quite tamp down, even as he was scared shitless. The pain of knowing Steve was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, even though it was the obvious narrative to Steve's fairytale life. Of course he gets the girl at the end.

What? Is that why you-

The way he stuck around afterward, even though their dynamic was more antagonistic than friendly, and the way Eddie thrived off of every snarky comment. How it felt like banter even though Eddie knew, by all logic and reason, Steve was merely tolerating his presence. They would always be antithetical to each other, circling but never meeting.

Eddie, no

Steve growling ‘Do you ever shut up!’ before pouncing on him downstairs. The heavy pounding of his heart as he wrestled Steve up the stairs. The way his brain never did catch up to what was happening or why, until it was too late, and he was ruining both the greatest sex he'd ever had and also the chance to prove, though he's still completely unworthy, that he has already been primed and ready to fall for Steve for years. The shame of ruining it. The heartbreak of ruining it. The teeny, tiny spark of hope as Steve stares him down. He has to close his eyes to avoid it, lest he say something stupid and fuck it up again.

You…do like me?

Yeah, Stevie. I like you a whole lot. I just didn't think I was allowed to like you. I didn't realize you liked me too. I'm sorry I said all that shit earlier. I didn't want to tell the guy I'd just linked with that I was thoroughly enjoying the chance to sleep with this guy I'd had a crush on for years. That seemed rude

The bed dips and so does Eddie's stomach. Steve's enormous hands slide up his neck, into his hair, and gently cradle his face as he leans in to kiss Eddie square on the mouth.

Oh. Hi

Hi

This is nice

I think so too. How do you feel about finishing what we started but this time we both know that we like each other?

That sounds awesome. But are you sure? I really, really fucked up the first time

I thought you were perfect up until you called me your arch nemesis

I have been told that sometimes I'm a little dramatic

You know what, that's fair. I really should've taken that as a compliment, if anything

See? Now you get it

What I'm getting is another condom. Hold my ankle so I don't slide off the bed

You got it, baby

Unbelievable. Salvaged the wreckage of his own stupidity and managed to bag the hottest guy in town! Score one for the nerds!

“I heard that.”