#b. luck: no. how dare you ask me that.

[mumbledramblings]

Saw this gun and thought of bad luck

Also let it be known that I have hyperfixated on your amazing oc and I was wondering if I could pick your brain in the asks bc hes so cool

i will never NOT accept asks about bad luck. i am ALWAYS hyperfixated on him and ALWAYS seconds away from info dumping new lore i just made up about him.

speaking of: that gun is pretty funny! (what game is it from?) bad luck uses a lever-action rifle, and i don't imagine him ever using anything with auto-fire. (how would he keep track of which shots are unlucky?) but the description is pretty accurate, though not in the way you might think :) .

also "brad luck" makes me think about how bradd might react to him. probably unimpressed. i imagine bradd being the type of guy to treat openly superstitious people with disdain and think they're all childish and naïve and he's a man a science so he is knows better. not to mention bad luck's leg was clearly not designed by someone with any knowledge in prosthetics and looks SUPER uncomfortable to use but any offer to make a better one just gets flat rejected. pah! whatever. those outsiders all the same. stuck in their backwards ways. can't see a good thing if it hit them in the face. he shouldn't waste precious resources on one of them, even if he does seem really important to vash and the "prosthesis" (though it pains him to call it that) is an affront to prosthetic research. (he still designs the new leg. he can't help it) (luida laughs at him the whole time. he's such a softie at heart)

[prael]

Perks

Kinktember Day 10: Mirror

Twice Mina x male reader smut

words: 4,108 Kinktember Masterlist

Do you ever look in the mirror and see someone who isn't you?

It was a simple question—if a rather loaded one.

"No," said Mina. "No, I don't think so. Not in a bad way, but maybe in disbelief of who I've become. Sometimes I expect to see the same person I was almost ten years ago. A simpler me. Maybe a more nervous and afraid version of me. That sort of thing."

"My therapist told me that was imposter syndrome," you said. "It's common, but it's pretty fucked up, the way we act like we're lying to ourselves."

"Have you thought of seeing her again?" Mina asked.

"God, that'd be awkward, don't you think?" you responded.

Mina paused, holding a glass midway to her mouth as if thinking, 'Between you and her or you and me?' Then she seemed to decide and smiled to herself, "Right."

Mina never erred into the intrusive or tactless. It's why you never have the impression that she is nosing around your life, because she gives you all the leeway to share only what you wish to share. And maybe that's why the both of you have lasted this long; in this arrangement, you found this unique level of trust, and you dare say it makes you damn good together.

"Our friend over there at the end of the bar looks like he can't take his eyes off you," you told her without looking up from your drink, not to draw attention. Mina chanced a discreet glance from the corner of her eye.

She quirked an eyebrow at you, "So? Feel threatened?"

You laughed into your drink before taking a mouthful of it, and then you told her, "I was about to get up, but you know that as soon as I do, he's going to come over."

"Of course, he will," Mina grinned into her own glass, then tipped her chin back to get at the last of it. "You go ahead to the room, I'll let him down gently." She patted at the front of your suit coat, above your breast pocket. It was a playful gesture. She had barely touched you all night until then.

"Early morning tomorrow, Mina, don't waste too much time now."

Mina smiled her "oh-shut-the-fuck-up" smile, before tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear and running her fingers through the thick long black strands. You smiled to yourself and signalled to the bartender.

It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be longer still. Hotel bars had become a sort of ritual for you and Mina, you share a drink the day before you close a deal, half in premature celebration and half as a good luck charm.

And the thing is, Mina is a flirt. Through and through. Charm and wit. It works on clients, and it's an asset. The only problem is, it worked on you. It wasn't difficult to recognise your attraction for what it was, and she obviously took notice of it too. And you, well...

You're a professional, so you would never, ever let yourself act on it. This is why you returned to your room, alone, and why ten minutes later you heard the door open to her (conveniently joined) room. You're professionals, if you're going to fuck, at least you try to hide it.

The adjoining door opens. Oops, did you leave that unlocked? How silly of you.

"Sorry about the wait. Didn't want to seem rude, you know." She leans against the doorframe.

"How long after I left?"

"Barely a minute, he did the whole 'You-look-familiar' bit, so I humoured him..." Mina cocks a smile of arrogance. "For a minute. Before, you know... Letting him down gently."

"Did he go quietly, then?"

"He tried to ask me if I was sure I wanted to be alone." She shakes her head slowly as she saunters forward. "I was sure. Sure about coming up here and riding you senseless. Didn't tell him that, of course, just up and left. Anyway, for tomorrow, I was thinking—"

"Let's rewind to that part about riding me senseless, shall we?"

A playful smile takes to the corners of her mouth. "Let's."

You climb up from the bed, your shirt hangs loosely from your body, no tie at the neck and untucked from your trousers. "So, would you say it's going to be more of a—"

"If you are going to finish that with some terrible sex metaphor, I will kick your ass so hard." She kicks off her heels at the door. That long black dress she wore earlier is long gone, replaced by the lightest of sheer black chemises and a pair of little lacy black underwear.

"Kick my ass," you tell her, placing a hand on each of her hips. "Sure."

"Be quiet." She whispers it before she kisses you, deeply and softly. The sort of kiss that makes you forget yourself. Your arms circle her waist, and her arms rest on your shoulders. You savour it, the smell of her perfume, the taste of her tongue, the feeling of her hands trailing across the skin at the nape of your neck.

But in due time, that kiss breaks apart. Her hand trails down the front of your dress shirt, button by button, she has undressed you so many times now that the motion seems so familiar, and practised, but she still takes her time in doing it, as though with every undone button her anticipation is built upon.

You place your hand against the curve of her hip, thumbing gently, with feather-light touches along the black fabric, her small waist and wide hips, firm and round and so shapely in just her lingerie—your hands could have found no better resting place.

As you slip out of your shirt, Mina slips the delicate straps off her shoulders and the skimpy piece falls away from her body like petals around her feet. Mina is bare for you, save for her panties. Her tits might not be as big as her ass but your mouth still waters at the sight of them.

"Look at me." You love it when Mina demands that, love how she smiles with smug confidence when you have nothing to do but oblige her. Mina turns herself around, and your hands slide down, down the generous arch of her back and cups around her round, firm ass.

"Oh, come now," you can't help but tease her, "How very complacent of you, to think my eyes would look at nothing else but you. You know that I am a man of refined culture." You knead at the ample flesh in each palm, so soft. "I am very clearly an admirer of the finer things in life."

"How very romantic," she laughs, sliding down her underwear with a shimmy of her hips before placing her palms flat against the wall. "Go on then. Enjoy the art, like the cultured man you are."

There is something intoxicating about watching her there, propped against the wall, naked for you, your cock uncomfortable in your trousers. You unbuckle the clasp of the belt, then, in the pause, you approach, letting a single finger trace up the arch of her spine, leaning closer to her neck to whisper, "Not right here. Look over there, the mirror."

A floor-to-ceiling mirror, to be specific. She smiles a devilish little smirk. "And what of it?"

"Mina," you tell her, pressing the front of your trousers against the curves of her body, against the supple flesh of her ass. "I want to see all of you when we fuck. Every beautiful detail."

Mina purred, content. "Spoken like a poet..."

You land a solid and deliberate smack against that big ass of hers, and she lets out a groan. "Don't let it go to your head."

Mina let out an effectual moan, knowing fully how it tempts you. You roughly press your body against hers as she does it. Hooking both your arms around her naked form, you pull her to where you want her, right over to the mirror.

"That's it, take me like you want to." She presses her hand flat against the mirror, pushing back those delicious curves against your body once more. You force down your slacks and underwear until the cool air envelops you, at least until you push against her body once more. You cup both your hands at her full ass, slipping your stiffness between the cheeks and rocking back and forth. Mina is biting her bottom lip as she looks back at you in the mirror, and you look at nothing else but her deep dark eyes, her face framed by that long, dark, glorious hair.

"Your ass. This. This beautiful, beautiful thing of yours, drives men wild, drives me wild," you breathe out as she rocks herself back into your groping hands and your hard cock grinds between her cheeks, slow and methodic. "Drives me a little bit insane."

She deepens her bend, lowering her shoulders level to her ass, and her face presses against the glass. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip again, peering over her shoulder, a shameless erotic, willing for you to take her in the most raw and depraved way. You can't deny the effect it has on you, and it has you raising your right arm, palm poised to land another satisfying spanking to her ass.

The crack rings out through the room, and she lets out a soft, sweet little, "Oh!"

You wrap a hand around her, over her stomach and down between her legs, reaching for her sweet, slick cunt, and find her soaked, wet with arousal. Wet for you.

"Fuck, you're so horny," you utter hoarsely. You drag your fingers through her juices as you drive your stiff cock over her tight asshole, so much teasing, maybe too much, perhaps too tortuous. You groan into the shell of her ear. "You get so wet for me. So wet. You need it so badly."

She moans, grinding back against you and circling her hips as if it could ease her pain. Half teasing, half goading, she says, "Maybe you should stop fucking playing around and do something about it."

She hisses when you drive your two slick fingers inside her without warning, pushing deeper in one smooth motion, as you mutter into the crook of her neck, "Impatient, aren't we, Mina?"

"Just fuck me."

In response, you slowly withdraw your fingers. She gasps against the mirror, the palm of her hand curling flat into a fist. Her words get you harder as she tries to wiggle her ass and spread herself, desperately trying to draw your dick to the slick pink centre of her sex for you. She doesn't care anymore what this does to your discipline, doesn't care at the prospect of you breaking, turning this into a savage, ravaging of her body; what matters only, at this very instant, is that she gets filled and fucked, fast and hard.

Finally, you give her that. Draw your cock out from between her cheeks, sliding the tip down between her legs, feeling the moisture that glistens on the swollen lips. You don't bother to strap up, or even ask, it's long since established that raw is how she likes it.

Slowly, you push forward. Mina sucks in a breath through her teeth. You know by the arch in the small of her back, the little trembles, that it is taking all her concentration and willpower not to throw her hips back, to force you to the hilt.

You bite the edge of her shoulder, and a shiver travels down Mina's entire body. You pull out, a little, before driving forward a little further.

"You feel..." you groan, your cock feeling like it was engulfed by satin. You sink a little further. "Fuck."

"Mhm, go on," her eyelashes flutter as you begin to take her, in this raw, animalistic way. "Tell me how it feels."

"Every time is like the first time," you continue, sliding in slow, then deeper, bit by bit, until you're all the way in and her big, round ass is pressing hard against your abdomen and her thick thighs against your legs. "You feel warm and slick and tight and wet, and oh, God..."

A sudden thrust forward as her greedy cunt squeezes the length of your shaft. A delicious whimper that sends blood to your head. A long, shaky groan slips from the both of your lips. You buck hard into her ass and watch as it ripples at the contact. "Ah! There, yes. Fuck," Mina moans.

There are two of her, perfect reflections, two Minas taking a rough pounding from behind. Each little expression on her face, each beautiful feature is visible in the reflection. And behind that her body ripples just like the one below you, and she whimpers, helpless as you penetrate her over and over.

"F-faster." She whines. "Harder. God, fuck, fuck me harder."

Mina has always liked it a little on the rough side, so you grab a handful of her hair, ball it in your fist, and pull. "Tell me, how does it feel?" You rear her head back so she has to look at herself in the reflection and tell it to herself. You pick up the pace, beginning to relentlessly pummel her from behind as you bury yourself into her tight heat as deep and hard as you can.

"So... Ah! So good." You yank her hair again, making her ass tense, making her gasp. She pants hard, short and fast as the force and strength of each thrust get stronger. "I love it when you... fuck me like this." Her chest begins to heave up and down. She raises her ass even higher for you. "When you—God, ah! Ah!—make me want to scream..."

You feel that incredible warmth building and swelling in your abdomen as her sex drips around your shaft, and it is so hard to slow yourself down when her ass slaps against you in perfect sync with your every motion, when Mina's knees shake, when her desperate moans urge you to never, ever stop. Still, you would like to do a little something before she orgasms all over your cock.

You roughly jerk out of Mina, pulling away abruptly with no warning.

"No, no! Don't stop!" She cries out immediately, her greedy body already missing yours. The flush at her neck spreading, blossoming down—her shoulders pink. "No!" She whimpers as she tries to throw her pussy back against you.

She cries out so pathetically that she doesn't protest when you roughly turn her around and lift her by her thighs, allowing her to wrap her legs around your hips and sink her to the hilt onto you. You sink her down and up and down again and again, bouncing her on and off of your aching cock in front of the mirror, gritting your teeth to keep yourself from finishing the moment her tightness wraps and flexes around you.

"I'm gonna cum so hard, I swear, I can feel it," she gasps in time with your rough pounding, arms holding onto your neck tightly, fingernails digging into your shoulders. "So close, don't you dare stop."

The harder and faster you go, the louder and harder she screams, eyes rolling back and mouth falling open. She digs her heels into your back, pushing down against you so there's nothing left for either of you but pleasure. You pound hard and heavy into her, chasing her orgasm, and when that perfect heat grips all around you and consumes you entirely, there is nothing in the entire world that compares to it—to this. The thought that very soon you will be cumming inside Myoui Mina.

It is that pure bliss, that power and sense of total control, of giving her such pleasure that you're left moaning along with her, revelling in this wonderful mess. Your bodies are sticky and tangled and you just start to let it go. Filling her pretty cunt as you have so many times before.

You grit your teeth and struggle through the overstimulation, taking satisfaction in how the trembling in her legs persists, her breathing ragged and body shaking. Doing your best to fuck your load into her—she's just so into that sort of thing—you don't think that there's anything, truly, that is better than this.

Not when Mina whimpers as she weakly presses her nails into the skin of your shoulders and when she knows not how to stop trembling. Your limits are worth pushing for a woman like her.

But even then, limits are ultimately undeniable. Her full weight in your arms, your knees weak, your legs tire beneath you and finally, as you plant a series of gentle kisses along her neck and shoulder, her mouth gasping, her nose against your cheek, you give in and fall to your knees. Mina's back leaves a mark of where it was once imprinted against the glass.

"So..." she laughs breathlessly into your ear as you sit with her on you. "Do you think management has any idea how often we fuck during these trips?"

"I imagine that if they found out it would be both of our jobs on the line." You hold a hand on her lower back, keeping her upright and then place your mouth on one of her breasts. Her nipple is firm, you suck on it and run your teeth over its delicate surface. Mina keens with her mouth falling open and her lashes fluttering, a small quiet "ah" escaping from the back of her throat.

"Guess we better stop," she jokes, breathing out in a chuckle and gently, pushing your forehead away from her chest.

You chuckle dryly into her neck, wrapping both arms fully around her naked body to pull her closer. "Something tells me you won't really be able to help yourself."

"Punishingly handsome, smart, a sense of humour—" She reaches down to where your half-soft cock is planted within her cunt. "—Great cock, excellent fuck" As though it were some sort of sales pitch. "No. No, I can't help myself."

"Is this about next week?" you ask.

"They never split us up, we're a team, so why would they send you with her instead?" Mina rocks her hips slowly on your lap. You groan into the crook of her neck.

"It's a one-off, Mina. In two weeks we'll be travelling together again." You wrap your arms around her soft, warm skin and run them down her back. "Another hotel, another set of adjoining rooms."

"Yeah," she sighs as she lazily continues her grinding. "Or, we could... See each other outside of work, you know. Like normal people do."

"We're far from normal, Mina." You let out a soft sigh as you start to harden inside her again. You pull at the small of her back, urging her on. "We're having our fun, right? It works. What reason is there to rock the boat?"

Her arms move up your chest and onto your shoulders. With that same teasing voice of hers, "There's always room for more fun. More sex." Mina pushes hard on your shoulders, and you fall back into the soft carpet. Mina is above you—over you—all-powerful beauty and you want nothing more than to grab her hips and drive up, and into her. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her arms. Her pert little tits beg to be held. Her face, with flawless skin and those few prominent freckles, is decorated with a filthy smile.

"Two weeks, Mina, two weeks and we'll be back to doing this." You caress the silky soft curves of her sides. "Two more weeks, and then it's a real long trip. Just me and you."

She's visibly more excited, and she rides you harder now than just a gentle grinding and you hear the little wet sounds of your cock plunging into her cum-filled pussy over and over again. Her breasts bounce beautifully, and finally, you do cup one in a hand. A playful glimmer dances in her eyes, along with the lust haze. Mina's wet thighs slap against your hips, the sounds are vulgar in the best way.

"I'm going to fuck you every single morning and night for the whole trip," you tell her, and her grin widens. "Then you won't want for a thing."

Your words only seem to encourage her more, to fuck you harder and harder. She's riding your cock wildly but never has her eyes left yours. She fucks like she does everything else; with every fibre of her being, her passion is unbridled and intense. And oh, when she whimpers, it makes a hot current run straight to the end of your spine, it gets the heat in your head pulsating. That's just what Mina does to you.

"Two weeks without me. You're going to be so frustrated, Mina, so needy. You're gonna make me a promise."

"Mhm?" she gasps.

"You're going to wait for me," you say. "After tonight, for whole two weeks, no cumming."

"No," she says through clenched teeth. "Absolutely not."

"Yes, Mina, absolutely."

You clasp your hands on her hips, slowing down her speed. "Promise me."

She almost struggles to find her voice. "No way. I can't!" Her hips fight against your hold, she fights to drag her cunt over your cock and just feel the pleasure you're denying her. Mina grits her teeth, and the pain is evident on her face. "Okay! Just please fuck me now." She twists her body, trying to release from your hold.

"Promise."

"I promise. I promise. I promise!" Mina squeals, nearly shrieking as you soften your grip and thrust up into her quivering, wet heat. You let her fuck you again and she picks up right where she left off—frantic and wild. She leans in to kiss you deeply, and a little whimper spills from the corner of her lips. "Fuck. Cum inside me again."

The eagerness with which Mina rises and falls on your cock, her pussy taking in all of you, demands only one thing. Cum—the mess of you both—spilling over and running out, all over you and the floor and ruining the hotel's carpet.

"Yes," her voice cracks, high and soft, "Oh fuck. Fuck. God, I'm gonna cum."

It's good, your hands gripping her body firmly, matching her pace, and taking the chance to look behind her, at the mirror, where you can see your cock bury in and out of her again and again. Slipping up below her ass that ripples beautifully every time your hips meet.

Mina cums not even ten seconds later. With an eruption of screams louder than you've ever heard, shudders all over, and more fluid spilling between you both. She's struggling and you feel it. You slap her ass and follow with a groan of words halfway between an instruction and a plea. "Don't stop."

She doesn't stop. She sits up and throws herself back, reaching for something to balance on. A hand against the mirror, her legs spread and her body present to you, she fucks that pretty pussy down onto you so fast, she's struggling to maintain the rhythm but her nails are curling against the glass, her brows are pressed so tense together, her body shakes all over and a cry comes again from that lovely mouth.

She cums again like this as if it's a show for you and what a fucking show it is. Her legs tremble so hard they lose purchase and you begin lifting yourself up into her and the sight, the sound—her sounds���and her perfect body is making you buck and press harder into her. You've become so mindless, so desperate and hungry for her body. You can hardly keep yourself from spilling into her for a second time. But not yet, you think. Not yet and not there.

Mina's leg buckles. She fights for air. "Can't," she chokes out, breathless and shallow. Nothing left to give you. She slips from her perch, collapsing to the floor, leaning against the mirror. Her dark hair matted with sweat, her pale skin gleaming. Her expression is dreamy. "On me. Just finish on me."

On Mina, a work of art. Over her pretty face, or those luscious tits, or that soft tummy. Over that thick, firm and oh-so-perfect ass, or those equally tasty thighs. Maybe even just glaze over her messy cunt. Her eyes flicker as she looks up at you, and you have a decision to make.

"Anywhere. Cum wherever you want."

[scremogirl]

★♑︎☆彡𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎✪𝐍!☆♏︎★

Haikyuu boys when they have a crush on you (Ushijima, Kyotani, Iwazumi, Aone, Bokuto)

Bokuto

There was probably a handful of ways Bokuto could have first noticed you. A; been friends before he even realized his feelings. B; been one of the managers on the volleyball team. Or, C; being a classmate mate of his, a deskmate maybe.

Regardless of how he meets you, he knows you're the one for him. Always greets you with his signature smile and a giant hug.

He always asks you to come to his games and practices; regardless if you are the manager or not. He wants to make you feel included, sharing the thing he loves the most with you. Or just wants to show off and see your face when he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off his brow.

Would show up at your house randomly when you didn't come to school. You didn't answer his texts or calls so he figured something must be wrong. Your parents love him so much that they just let him in.

“Hey, hey, hey! I was wondering why you weren't at school today. Your mom told me you were sick so I brought over some soup and snacks to make you feel better!” you sit up from your bed in absolute bewilderment. You look and feel like shit and here he is telling you how bored he was today without you.

“Oh!” he suddenly gasps, perking up. He walks over to his backpack and pulls out a folder. It's the Trig notes from today, his handwriting is big and sloppy, but it’s the thought that counts.

He hands it to you with his chest puffed out in pride, Man…he really does look like an owl. Cute.

When he's made bad plays and gets into one of his moods, Akashi will call you over. Complaining about how he won’t talk to anyone and just sits under the bleachers hunched over. Feeling a hand on his shoulder he turns around. When he sees you he instantly becomes better, asking *begging* you to stay. That you're his good luck charm and is surely to make all his spikes if you are here to cheer him on.

Will also *beg* ask you to wear his number to games. Will look into the crowd, locking eyes with you followed by a big thumbs up.

Aone

It was a busy day this evening; seeing as it was a couple weeks before Christmas. Meaning, that the trains were packed and full of people. You missed the bus you would usually take on your way home. It was getting dark out and you wouldn’t dare wait for the next bus to show.

You dashed your way to the nearby train station panting and out of breath. You made it just in time to catch one too. Hoping on you see that every place was full. Except for one.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity you scooted your way through the crowd and sat down. It was silent besides the usual businessmen making calls and children playing games on their parents' phones. After a while, you felt eyes on you. Craning your neck up to an almost uncomfortable degree you lock eyes with someone. He was wearing your school uniform. Oh, you know him! He was the middle blocker for your school's volleyball team.

You shot him a sweet smile and a tiny wave. His eyes widened and a blush crept on his pale face. It looked as if he was about to wave back but just then the bell signaling your stop rang. Ever since then, he couldn't keep his eyes off you.

Would leave candies and heartfelt notes on your desk and in your locker

Would try to catch a glimpse of you on his way to the train station, sitting at your bus stop.

Futakuchi notices all of his friend’s strange behavior and forces him to come to talk to you. And that's how you two became friends.

Didn't talk much but was always such a great listener, remembering the smallest things about you. Such as the classes you were struggling in; offering to tutor you and give notes. Keeping rubber bands on his writs just in case (sorry if you have short hair/ are bald 😅). Would even skip practice to walk you to the bus, always wanting to make sure you're safe.

I LOVE HIM SM; people need to write for him more 🙄

Iwaizumi

Very straight forward with his affections towards you.

It’ll take him a while to come to terms with the way he feels about you but when he does he’s not trying to hide it.

The rest of his friends would tease him about it but he’ll just brush it off because there’s no reason for him to be embarrassed about the way he feels.

Like Aone, he will walk you home everyday no matter how late it is or what he has to do. Will buy you all the snacks you want from the vending machine. Will make sure you're doing your best physically and mentally. Would force you to drink water and eat a balanced meal when he notices any signs of fatigue or famine.

Will convince you to go on morning runs with him before school. This one you're not so sure about but after all he does for you, you thought you could thug it out.

“Come on (Y/n), you can do this just a little ways to go,” he says, jogging backwards to try and stay at the same pace as you. At this point you're huffing and puffing for air bent over. He lays you on your back before going ahead of you. He looks back at you with a smirk and this mischievous glint in his eyes before speaking.

“If you finish this run maybe I’ll treat you to more than just breakfast,” throwing a cheeky wink behind his shoulder before jogging off again. You’ve never ran that fast in your life. Maybe if you're a little slick wit it, you can convince him to carry you back home.

Kyotani

A little rough around the edges to say the least.

Surprisingly, unlike his upper upperclassmen, he actually realizes his feelings pretty quickly. Noting the *not so* subtle changes in his behavior when he’s around you compared to everyone else.

He’s never been intune with his emotions, so it’ll take a while for him to make a move.

In my opinion I don’t think he’s the “mean to you because he likes you” type; he’ll most likely just avoid you if he doesn’t know you like that or just keep his feelings to himself if you’re already his friend.

Another anonymous secret admirer. Would leave food, water bottles, keychains, stuffed toys, and things he knows you like laying around for you to find.

Will try and discretely spend time with you. Wouldn’t outright say he wants to and will get all blushy and confrontational if you tease him about it.

“Hey,” you here a deep voice call out to you, already knowing who it is, you turn around with a big smile.

“Hey, Kenny! what’s up?” He makes eye contact with you for what seems like a split second before turning away with pink dusting his cheeks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I-uh… there’s… there’s this new movie coming out next Saturday. You said you hadn’t been to the theaters in a while… so, I bought tickets,” he explains, pulling out two tickets from his back pocket, still not looking at you.He shoves one in your direction before talking again.

You just stare at him with wide eyes and slightly parted mouth. He turns around after not getting an answer but as he opens his mouth to say something you fly into his arms.

“Thank you, Ken, really,”

“Ye-yea, don’t mention it”

Would treat you to ramen after you’ve done really well on a test. You have a go to spot, a little mom and pop shop. He’s been going there ever since he was little, so it means a lot to him and is a big sign of his love for you bringing you there. The owners always ask when you two would get together.

You’d just laugh it off while he blushes and stutters about how you guys are just friends. Though the owners can see the disappointment in his eyes at his own words.

Loves having late night convos with you, either at a park or on the phone. Just like how intimate it feels.

Seriously cares about you and tries to tone down his “mad dog” persona. Is aware of how abrasive he can be and doesn’t wanna scare you off. All in all, he embraces the state of vulnerability he can be in with you.

Ushijima

I absolutely hate when people paint him out to be some sort of blunt, unemotional, proper guy.

He’s not dumb. He knows the signs when someone has a crush. Sure he can be a little blunt in the way he expresses his emotions but that’s just because he feels there’s no reason to lie about how he feels. He’s not a robot.

Wouldn’t just come up to you and say he had a crush on you. He knows that’ll throw you a little off guard; he wants to make sure you like him too.

Not much of a talker, but knows how to make conversation. Would purposely start one because he knows you’ll end up getting off topic and start ranting. He loves the sound of your voice and the passion in your face when you talk.

Another one who invites you to games and practices. Would try to convince *demand* you to become the manager of his team.

“But, I don’t know anything about it besides the things you’ve told me,” you try to explain yourself with uncertainty.

“That doesn’t matter. Coach and I will give you a run down of everything if you need it. I wouldn’t mind explaining it to you,” he seems so confident in the fact that you’ll say yes. Tilting his head up a little higher, broad shoulders shifting back slightly, standing tall.

“Are you sure? I just don’t wanna be a burden to you or the rest of the team if I can’t get up to speed-,”

“You could never be,” he cuts you off

“Everyone wants you there… I want you there. So please, consider it”.

GUESS WHOS THE NEW MANGER!🤪

A little worried that a relationship would cut into his time with volleyball. His indifference would cause him to be distant for a while, which leads to you thinking he led you on. The more you think about it though, you know Ushijima isn’t the type to do that so he either lost feelings, or something’s wrong. You know it’s the latter but you can’t help overthinking it.

Would come up to you with a rose one day before you left school. Looks you in your eyes before apologizing about how he’s been acting. All he wants is you to reassure him that his career path won’t get in the way of you two.

Hope y’all enjoyed; let me know if you wanna part two but with different characters or in a different fandom (make sure to look at my ML). Bye guys!

-Love, Sos❤️

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘WILDFLOWER AND BARLEY,

-GOTHAM!EDWARD NYGMA X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Sometimes you don’t think you deserve him….other times, you think it’s for the best that you stay.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!riddler x female reader. SMUT AND ANGST!! reader is toxic, but eddie is too, so its ok. eddy being vanilla but also strangely dominant. guys this fic is FILTHY. also,, part 3 to gotham characters eating you out. takes place with like season 2 eddy, post kringle. Did i write a fic inspired by a Hozier song that isn’t even released yet? yes. readers taking advantage of eddy. but also, eddy is more than willing to give. kind of a character study. im so sorry if i made reader too mean ive had this idea for a week😭

fic requested by @clementine-writes-things <3

♫ “My coffee black in my bed at 3 / You’re too sweet for me. You’re too sweet for me.” Wildflower and Barley by Hozier

You’d fucked up, majorly.

God, what were you thinking?

Edward Nygma, the quirky forensics guy. The loon, as your fellow officers eloquently put it. And you didn’t necessarily disagree. He was certainly a peculiar fellow. He had always a thing for…what was her name? Kristen Kringle. That was it. You’d been working with him for years, watching him moon after her. You could…understand the appeal, you guessed. She had a sexy sixties librarian type of thing going for her. She kept to herself. Maybe you should’ve done the same. She’d dissapeared a few weeks ago.

You somehow landed yourself in the bed of Edward Nygma. You’d been hooking up…For the past two weeks in a row. No judgement, yeah?

It started as a joke. You and the other officers, chatting with beers and obnoxious comments towards the other tools in the GCPD. Jim Gordon…Harvey Bullock. The way the men couldn’t seem to keep their mouthes shut, especially Jim.

Well, you’d gotten plenty tipsy, staying after work. You pummled those beers back like it was your last night alive. And hell, living in gotham? As an officer? It very well could be.

They were all drunk and laughing out of their minds. Anything anyone said seemed overly funny. Especially when one of your fellow cops brought up the name, “Nygma” like the name was it’s own disease.

“You think Y/N could sleep with him?”

“Yeah, Y/N, go fuck the loon. I wonder what it’s like.”

“You think he says riddles when hes cumming?”

“Whats long, hard, and has ‘cum’ in the middle?”

The numerous voices of your “friends” rung out, and in the moment, drunk out if your mind, you too thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I could do it.” You affirmed, alcohol giving you the liquid courage you wouldn’t typically have. After the “oooooo”ing from some of your coworkers, you decided, fuck it. Edward was tall, had nice cheekbones, and was smart. You could do worse than a one night stand.

So you confidently marched into that forensics room, high on the dare the other cops had given you.

You found him, looking into one of the forensics mirrors. He was muttering to himself and you snorted. Weirdo. Oh well.

He pushed up his glasses when you two made eye contact. He was sweating, for some reason, in that lanky labcoat and rubber-gloved hands. He stood up straight and went rigid when he saw you.

“Ms. L/N-“ He was about to question, when you rammed your lips onto his. You remember it like yesterday- how hesitant he was. The way he parted for air, breathing wildly at you. He kept trying to ask questions the whole time you were eagerly undressing him. But he didn’t seem to mind your fowardness.

Well, just your luck, that one night stand was the best fuck of your life. The way his cock fitted perfectly into your body, like it was made for your cunt alone. You two fucked on the forensics cabinets, your coworkers in the next room over, and it was exhilarating. Especially when the usually reserved Ed got unusually rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass just right.

By the time you two were done…you were fucked out of your mind. Pleasantly surprised.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to get away. You told the cops it was vanilla, and reveled in their dismay. But…you came back for seconds. And then thirds. And then fourths. And then you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up in your own bed.

And just as if you were Kristen…he started following you. Your coworkers snickered. You’d see homemade cupcakes left on your desk. You’d catch him staring at you from the other side of the precint. You writhed under his gaze. For a man with not much expirence, he was obnoxiously good at sex. And he was even more obnoxiously good at not understanding the meaning of coworkers with benefits, and not a relationship.

But…mornings like these? You can’t complain.

Taking yourself back to the present, you awoke in his bed. The sunlight of the open windows bled through your eyelids, and you felt yourself smack your lips. You blinked yourself awake, same as you always did. You shifted underneath the covers, which had been neatly adjusted over you. It was infuriatingly comfortable. You let a yawn escape your lips.

“Ah, good! You’re awake!” You heard his voice chime, far off in the kitchen. You looked up, seeing his tall frame. He stared at you adoringly, and you felt your heart pang.

He carried a tray of coffee and breakfast. You sat up. It was the usual morning routine. He made the most exquisite breakfasts for you.

“A necessity to some, a treasure to many. I’m best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer me mild, others prefer me bold. What am I?” He spoke the riddle quickly.

You blinked at him, tired. You shrugged nonchalantly.

He made his way over to you, swiftly and delicatley placing the tray in your lap.

“Coffee.” He looked a bit dissapointed at your lack of answer, but brightened back up instantly. “Almost black, not quite. 1 Sugar. No cream. Just how you like it.” He noted, and it was in this moment, you felt the weight of your actions. He’d memorized everything about you. Whatever records you liked, he’d play softly. He’d learned your favorite flavor cupcake, and how you took your coffee. Gods, he’d even bought the brand of toothpaste you had at your house, so it was familiar brushing your teeth in the morning.

You squinted, adjusting yourself to the sunlight of the room. Golden. You felt the weight of the tray, and met his gaze. God, it was intense. The way his big, puppy dog like eyes harrowed in on you. Like you were the world.

He was practically wagging his tail, watching you take a slow sip of coffee. He wanted praise, as though perfected it, finally.

He was too sweet for you. You didn’t deserve any of this. But selfishly…you couldn’t resist.

You gave him a small nod in approval, letting the liquid glide down your throat. Damn it, The coffee was perfect.

He positioned himself next to you on the bed, sitting, legs crossed. He looked at you almost creepily, eyes never leaving as you finished your breakfast and coffee. You didn’t say a word to him, but you did listen to him ramble quite a bit. Every now and then he’d ask a casual question, and you’d stay silent, or give him a one worded answer. You’d see his smile falter, but he’d continue.

When you were done, he’d grab the tray from your hands. You let him do the work for you. You liked his bed. He came back, eyes big and bright. He sat once more, looking at you expectantly. You furrowed your brows.

“…What?”

He shrugged, giving a slightly nervous, manic giggle. You cringed a bit, but faltered when you felt his fingertips glide across your thigh.

Oh. Thats what.

“…We have work in an hour.” You replied. The mantra played in your head. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him. You felt guilty.

“I’ll be quick.” He affirmed, peeling the covers back. Oh, fuck it. Who were you to deny him?

He didn’t lie, he was fast. The covers exposed your skin, still undressed from the previous night. You felt the cool air on your thighs and pussy, and couldn’t help it. You caved.

In an instant, he was worshipping your legs, working his way up. He kept eye contact with you, laying gentle bites and pecks into the plush of your skin.

He kissed his way up, tonguing the bite marks he left in his wake. You shivered when his lips hovered over your pussy. He wasted no time. No, he didn’t tease you, he needed to please you as quickly as he could. It was a need for him.

His tongue came into contact with your pussy lips, and you shivered. Instinctivley, you threaded your hands through his morning messy hair, and shoved his face into you. He reciprocated instantly, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. He licked up and down, tongue flicking gently on your cute little pearl of a clit.

He circles it and taps it with his tongue, saliva dripping and mixing with your juices. His movements are quick and calculated, and he indulges you, body and soul. He hums in pleasure when you arch your back up into him uncontrollably. It’s almost uncharacteristic- the way he switches from being so soft and gentle, to practically making out with your pussy. You feel his fingers dig into your thighs, like he’s a whole different person when he’s mouth fucking you.

Your moaning and shaking, saying his name over and over. Somehow, your getting off to this. To the idea you don’t deserve him. That he’s such a nicer, better, smarter person than you. And although he doesn’t vocalize it, you wonder if he strangely shares the sentiment.

It’s almost like he knows. Like he’s self-aware- of all your selfish thoughts. Like this, him eating you out, him on his knees for you, making you breakfast in bed- is some sort of revenge.

He knows what he’s doing. He’s making you feel awful, guilty for your mistreatment of him- by giving you more and more of him. And you find yourself cumming in his mouth at the thought.

He greedily laps at your swollen clit, overstimulating you. You let out a loud yelp, and he keeps going, only for a few more seconds.

It’s weird. He’s weird. But as you sober up from your orgasm, shaking underneath him, you brush those strange thoughts from your head.

You look into his gentle eyes again, watching him ramble off apologies. You two will most definitely be late to work. You scold yourself. Why would you think such an odd thing? No, he’s a complete sweetheart. Not a degrading bone in his body. You think.

Yet…you still feel the bruises forming on your thighs. And the burning guilt of using him.

You left his aparment in a hurry, driving yourself insane. You seem to convice yourself it was a weird orgasm thought, maybe you’re more kinky than you thought; for some pseudo pyschological self degradtion.

You go to the precint, just as you do every other day. The work is effectively still just as boring and your peers are still just as insufferable.

You’re given a few files by some mysoginistic cop you haven’t aquainted yourself with, who obviously assumed you were the new record keeper. You snort, but decide to take it. You browse over the files, snooping. They are forensic files, and your heart drops. Ah. You’ll have to give these to him.

You enter the forensic room without knocking- at least, you’re about to. But you hear him mumbling to himself, and decide to listen in for a moment. Curiosity getting the best of you.

“You’re too good to her.” You hear him argue with…himself? “You need to show her whose in charge.”

“I am!” He retaliates to his own voice.

“By making her coffee?” He snarls, and your brows furrow. He smashes a file cabinet closed loudly. You jump.

“Yes!” Ed’s voice growls out, fed up. “If you were smart enough to understand-“ He begins, and you’ve heard enough. You enter the room.

Ed looks at you bewildered, and you look at the same. He’s sweating, and his hair is in dissaray. You two make eyecontact and you grimace. What the hell?

You hardly register what he was actually saying, and more that he was having a seemingly very heated conversation with himself. You watch him fumble with his glasses.

“…Ed?” You question, and he snaps.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is quick and sharp. Thats uncharacteristic. You wince.

“Uh, files.” You nod to the papers in your hands, and he blinks, standing up straight. He clears his throat.

“Right.” He recovers, quickly. You narrow your eyes at him, and hum, giving them to him. He’s about to speak, but you rush yourself out of the room, heart pounding.

He is weird. He is a freak. You chime. Your coworkers have been right.

Any shred of pity you had for him has dwindled significantly, and you mull it over in your mind.

Maybe you do deserve eachother, You think. You’re the best he’s going to get.

[hoedamn-eron]

oscar isaac characters with an s/o who subtly paints the furniture

Saw this on Insta and thought it was really cute so have some blurbs 😊

If there is any I have missed that you would like to see, let me know (but bear in mind I have not seen all of Oscar's performances so may turn some down!)

Steven Grant

Once he saw it, he was confused as to where it came from, because he doesn't remember it being there before

But then he catches you painting another flower on the skirting board one slow Sunday afternoon

Thinks it's the cutest fucking thing he's ever seen

It brings a bit of brightness into the flat

When he approaches you about it you’re immediately apologising since you actually only spend half your time at the flat

“Don’t be silly, I want to know if I can join you?”

Marc Spector

Noticed at the same time as Steven

Was also confused because he couldn't remember if it was there before or not

Feels like he's losing the plot a little because more small paintings keep popping up but he isn't sure where they're coming from

Finally notices it's you when you've left your paints out on the coffee table one afternoon when you've had to rush to work

And it all just clicks in his mind

Goes out and buys you all the paint you want because he wants all your artwork on the walls

Jake Lockley

Honestly, he spotted you the first time you did it, like immediately

Loves that you do it, thinks it's cute

But he also thinks it hilarious to add onto your artwork and not tell you

So much so that you think you're losing the plot, because "you do not remember painting a duck with those flowers?"

He plays ignorant, obviously

But you catch him one day painting and wordlessly join him

Now it's become a weekly thing you do together

Llewyn Davis

Poor baby doesn't have furniture

But he crashes as yours quite a bit and he's noticed the small pieces dotted around your apartment

He likes them, he thinks they're cute

He was out auditioning one night when he noticed his guitar, there was a bunch of daisies painted on the back

His guitar is his pride and joy, and if it were anyone else he'd be fuming

But he's not

He feels warm, like a piece of you is with him wherever he goes

Now every gig he does, he comes to you, and asks you to do another painting, "for luck"

Blue Jones

This one is a bit risky

Because there isn't an awful lot of recreation in the asylum, so you bribed some orderlies to get you some paint

And you got a total of three colours, but that's fine, you can make it work

Brings a bit of brightness to the asylum, since everything is grey

Blue is pissed and wants to know who is doing them

You, somehow, manage to break into Blue's office and - essentially - throw up a middle finger at him, and do a bunch of paintings around his office, in really obvious places

He catches you in the act since he comes back from lunch early

You're fucked

He has you on your hands and knees, scrubbing at each painting in his office, then he puts you in solitary for two weeks and has your paints disposed of

However, he notices a small painting of lavender under his desk that was missed in the clean up

He keeps it there

Nathan Bateman

You wouldn't dare, his coffee table alone costs more than your rent does in a year

Richard Alonso Muñoz

You already have your paintings up in the house so he loves whatever artwork you do

Honestly, I don't think you'd hide it from Richard, he probably told you to go nuts when you moved in

Takes photos of your work all the time to show his buddies at the prison

Some of the prisoners have asked if you can come in and do an art class for them, which you are happy to do on a weekend when you have more free time

Richard has put in the request but it hasn't been approved yet

Richard starts buying the seeds/bulbs for flowers you paint, to go in the front garden

Learns all about them in books, and how to take care of them

Now and then requests you to paint a flower he's seen in said books

Poe Dameron

Like Blue, gets confused on who is painting across the base, but obviously isn't pissed about it

Gets seriously confused when he finds one of the paintings in his personal room

He asks BB-8 but he hasn't a clue either

Until one day, BB-8 comes to Poe with a small little painting of Poe, of all things, on him

But BB-8 is so amused about it that he doesn't tell Poe

He catches you when you're painting something on his X-Wing

Scares the living daylights out of you when he calls you and asks what you're doing

You apologise, and tell him you'll take it off as soon as

But he tells you not to bother, because it's a - albeit crude because of the size - little portrait of you, and him, and BB-8

He refuses to wash it off and if it ever fades, instantly asks you to redo it

When you get married, he paints on wedding rings

Santiago Garcia

You're his roommate since you worked together in the forces

He had no idea you could paint

Strangely doesn't catch you for the longest time

He thinks it's Benny playing a trick on him, or Frankie

Grills them for the longest time until you finally admit it was you

You tell him it helps with the nightmares, that it calms your mind

After that, Santi doesn't bother you with it

When he sees you painting on his dining table leg, he makes you a coffee and just sits next to you and watches silently

Now every time you tell him you're going to paint, he comes and just sits, watching you

It's therapeutic for you both

[fallenangelicss]

Sweet And Spice

PAIRING | Bridget | Queen of Hearts/James Hook

WORD COUNT | 1957

SUMMARY | Bridget's gone missing. Or at least, Red and Chloe can't find her after they get split up for a class they've been forced into. Worried something irreversible might happen while she's out of their sight, they recruit Ella to help locate her. What they uncover is far from what they thought they'd find.

RATING | General Audiences

WARNING/TAG(S) | No Archive Warnings Apply

A/N | First time writing for Descendants, hope you all like it!

EVENTS | @eclipsingbingo | Playing With Someone's Hair | @fandombingo | Unexpected Visitor | @anyfandomfluffbingo | "It's Not Like This With Them" | @multifandom-flash | The Jabberwocky | Heal The Cutie | I Did What I Had To Do | Don't You Dare Pity Me | @fandom-free-bingo | Whumper Turned Caretaker | Failure To Remain Impartial | Nervous Laughter | @character-a-character-b | Rivals To Lovers

AO3 LINK | Read Here

“Hey, Ella,” Red called as she saw the younger version of her newfound friend's mum walk out of one of her classes, a hand raised to wave her over. Chloe’s brows pinched together as her eyes scanned between her mother and Red, attempting to decipher what Red could possibly want with her mum instead of her own. Once Ella stepped over to them, Chloe shook herself out of her thoughts and shot Ella a smile, both of them waiting for Red to speak up once again. “Have you seen Bridget? We haven’t seen her since the whole Uliana incident.”

“No, I haven’t seen her either come to think of it,” Ella murmured, taking a quick scan around the hallway the three of them were in before a concerned look made its way onto her face. Chloe couldn’t tell what that look could mean, unexpectedly foreign to everything about this version of her mum. “But I can help you look for her since my next class is with her.”

“Great,” Red exclaimed, a large grin spreading across her face as she hovered around Ella. Still unused to the layout of Auradon or Merlin Academy, Red didn’t know where to begin looking, leaving that up to Ella to decide. Chloe may have a bit more luck in the sense of the direction, visiting Auradon occasionally to see her brother whenever there was an event taking place at the school, but it was still vastly different to what she had come to know. “Do you have any ideas where she could be? Any places that she goes to when she needs to think or… something?”

“Have you checked her dorm?” Ella asked to which both girls nodded in response to, Briget’s dorm being the first place they checked once they were able to get away from one of the classes they had been roped into. That made Ella’s face contort a bit more as she thought of all the unusual places Bridget might be lurking in between classes. She must’ve had a free period, Ella thought. There wasn’t enough time in between classes to hang out or do whatever, there was hardly enough to even go to your locker and get the book you needed. “She might be in the courtyard somewhere. She normally sits out there when she's looking for a new recipe to try out.”

“That’s perfect,” Chloe said, ready to start walking and go looking for Bridget. With how close Castlecoming was, they couldn’t afford for her to leave their sight. As Chloe walked through the hallway, a loud cough caught her attention. Spinning on her heel to see what was up, she came face to face with Ella who was staring at her with a raised brow. Right, Merlin Acadamy was different to Auradon Prep. With a sheepish smile, Chloe asked, “Would you like to lead the way?”

“Sure,” Ella responded with a crooked smile before starting off in the right direction, leading the newcomers to where Bridget could potentially be. They walked for a few moments in silence, Red and Chloe slightly behind Ella’s pacing as they eyed one another, attempting to have a silent conversation as to what Bridget may be doing and how this could be related to the prank that created their future when Ella turned around abruptly, walking backwards as she asked, “Why do you need to find Bridget anyway?”

“Uh,” Red floundered for a second, trying to think of a lie on the spot while Chloe was two seconds away from revealing the truth about everything. The longer they took to answer, the more suspicious Ella grew, her eyes narrowing a bit as her pace slowed, forcing them to shorten their steps to not overtake Ella. “She said she’d show us around to all of our classes but we didn’t know where to meet her after each one so we’re a bit lost.”

“Makes sense,” Ella nodded, spinning back around to lead them out of the school's building and into the large open space the grounds had. Red’s eyes instantly began scanning the area for her mum, hoping to find some pink peeking out from around a corner so she could relax and know her mum was safe. “I could also show you guys around if you ever needed it. Normally they have someone give new students a tour if they come late in the year but they must’ve forgotten to this time.”

“Yeah, must’ve,” Chloe trailed off, joining Red in her search. Ella looked to be the only one who wasn’t actively looking for Bridget, just leading them around and hoping they would stumble upon her, though Ella must’ve had to find Bridget on numerous occasions to not be concerned at all as to where she might be. “Does Bridget disappear often? You just seem really calm even though we don’t know where she is.”

“Bridget’s a big girl, she can take care of herself,” Ella easily supplied, shrugging her shoulders as they continued their search. The more they looked, the more Chloe was beginning to lose hope that Bridget might be in the courtyard, though the grounds seemed to stretch on for ages. If they didn’t find her soon then they might have to try a different location, though Chloe wasn’t sure how much longer Ella could stay with them before she was late for class. They had already been gone for quite a while so there was no doubt in Chloe’s mind that classes had already begun. “That and this isn’t the first time she’s lost track of time and missed a couple minutes of class trying to find something new to bake. I normally always find her in the same spot which should be right around here.”

Just as Ella said it, the three of them rounded a corner, in front of them but still a few metres away was Bridget sitting at a picnic bench, her skirt fanning around her seat as a closed cooking book was placed in the space next to her. Chloe could see the side of her face, a smile on her face as she looked down at something she hadn’t yet taken notice of. Getting ready to call out to the cheerful girl, Chloe was suddenly yanked back by her jacket, the breath leaving her as she was pulled behind the wall they just stepped around. 

“What was that for?” Chloe hissed, looking over her shoulder to where Red was clutching onto her. 

“Look,” Red whispered while pointing at Bridget. Chloe’s head spun back around to see what she was trying to indicate to look at. Squinting her eyes to try and help, Chloe was about to raise another question when she finally spotted what Red was trying to show her. Kneeled just in front of Bridget was Captain Hook. Chloe’s jaw dropped at the sight of Bridget’s hands being held by James Hook as the two spoke to one another.

“We’re too far away to hear what they’re saying,” Ella murmured, crouched on the floor as her head stuck around the corner and tried to get a better look. It was to no avail though as the picnic table and Bridget blocked most of Captain Hook. “We need to get closer?”

“How?” Chloe asked, not seeing any hiding points they could use to their advantage. Chloe didn’t get any form of response as Ella took off in a crouched run to a nearby tree, hiding behind it before Bridget or Hook could get wind of her actions. Chloe was again about to ask another question before Red followed in Ella’s actions, making quick work of getting to the large oak tree and hiding behind it. The two of them looked at Chloe expectantly, waiting for her to join them. Murmuring to herself, Chloe said before she made a quick sprint to the tree, “Here goes nothing.”

Taking quick steps, Chloe almost slammed into Red in her efforts to get behind the tree without being noticed. It seemed it didn’t matter what they did though as Bridget and Hook were too caught up in one another to pay attention to them. 

“You know,” Hook started, reaching a hand up to curl some of Bridget’s hair around his finger. The grin on Bridget’s face immediately widened at the action, a trickle of nervous laughter escaping her lips as she waited for him to finish his sentence. At the same time that Bridget’s laughter reached their ears, Red stiffened next to them, clearly not liking the sight in front of them. “The two of us are going to be awfully late to our next class.”

“If he doesn’t back away I’m going to feed him to the Jabberwocky,” Red hissed, hands scrunching into tight fists.

“That’s okay,” Bridget’s voice came out in an airy sigh, almost leaning into Hook’s hand. She looked completely smitten, like she was hanging onto Hook’s every action and word. “As long as I get to spend time with you away from the others then it doesn’t matter.”

“About that,” Hook sighed, backing up from Bridget only slightly, his hand leaving her hair to once again fiddle with her delicate fingers. Bridget’s brows furrowed at the unexpected retreat, a sombre expression captivating Hook’s face and making her more aware of what was happening. “I’m sorry about the whole Uliana thing that happened earlier. I told her it was pointless to steal your flamingo feathers but you know Uliana; she always has to be doing something she considers wicked.”

“Oh, that’s whatever,” Bridget easily brushed off, her shoulders bunching up in a shrug as she acted like being chased around the school by an angry Uliana who had been turned partly into a flamingo was no big deal. “I tried to warn her but she just didn’t listen.”

“Maybe next time you can save me one of your cupcakes before they get ruined?” Hook suggested, making Bridget grin shyly and her legs to swing back in little kicks.

“Why is he acting like this in front of my mum- Bridget? In front of Bridget?” Red said, having to save herself since they were in front of Ella. The two of them must be starting to look really suspicious since Chloe had also messed up in front of Ella, accidentally calling her mum as well, although she hadn’t been able to save it as gracefully.

“He must not be able to act this way in front of his own friends,” Chloe suggested, baffled by the turn of events that was playing out in front of them.

“Whatever the reason, I don’t like it.”

“Maybe we should leave them be for a bit,” Ella warned, her eyes stuck to the way Bridget and Hooked were glued to one another, their eyes never straying from the other as they spoke, secluded from everyone else. “It feels like we’re intruding.”

“I’ll make sure I bake extra next time,” One of Bridget’s hands lightly flicked to the cookbook by her side, its cover a mixture of pastels. Her lashes seemed to be fluttering wildly at Hook as a soft blush coated her cheeks. Hook’s face remained a mixture of content and smug as his thumb ran along the back of the hand that Bridget let him keep. Shyly, Bridget offered, “Maybe you can help me taste test, James?” “Yep, definitely time to leave,” Red announced, grabbing onto Chloe’s arm and pulling her away before she could hear any objections. Ella chased after them once she realised they were gone, but not after watching Bridget and Hook for a few extra moments. Before Ella caught up enough for her to hear, Red mumbled to Chloe, “I’m not watching as my mum flirts with Captain Hook.”

[ragnarokhound]

Hi wife. Staring at the green dot on your profile like my boy Gatsby and sending increasingly ridiculous asks in the hope of winning your heart.

not to bring up chapell roan, but have we considered the lyric “You could kiss a hundred boys in bars” for recently broken up jaytim?

I’m thinking Tim freaks out about love and affection™️ and totally ghosts Jason after their first kiss/near death experience. Jason runs into him at a club a few weeks later and sees that Tim is potentially kissing boys that ARE NOT JASON — cue angsty drama, maybe another near death experience where they save each other, and jason figuring out Tim ghosted because he’s a big chicken. Then (important for plot and character development) they have dirty dirty sex

Hi wife. You're yearning for something you already hold. Now come inside off the dock, the only thing you'll catch is your death of cold out here 💖 (I swear one of these days I'll find you dramatically floating face down in the swimming pool and it's gonna give me a goddamn heart attack /affectionate)

I'm so glad you know exactly what I like because a) good luck babe plays in my head 24/7 it was absolutely in the rotation when I was writing Secretary fic so how dare you and b) this is so up my alley for jaytim like you don't even know skdjfjks

In fact it's so up my alley that I'm gonna have to slap my response to this one under a cut cause it spiralled out of control:

Idk if you've noticed but I am deeply obsessed with Tim figuring out his own feelings re: Jason first and having a mcfreaking meltdown about them lmao.

Between the two of them, imo, he is much more of an anxious overthinker who will think he's making the most tactically sound decision because he really has thought it through with all the information he has access to -- but he always fails to give full weight to considering the best case scenario when it's something he wants. When it's something he feels selfish about. And boy, does he consider Jason Todd a best case scenario.

And mmmm I am so very here for jealous! and possessive!Jason. Especially when Jason didn't realize what he was feeling until after he's already acted on it. It is the bread and butter. Bonus points if he's not even trying to show it to Tim. Tim isn't the problem.

For instance: Tim's in the club, looking to see if he's just horny and needs to get it out of his system, come on, I cannot muck up the good thing I have just because I want some fuck-- and his prospective dance partners just start to dry up.

Because the big guy who looks like he's done time and a half keeps glaring daggers, keeps shoving his old partners off the dancefloor or knocking into them when they've come back with drinks for the cute twink they were totally gonna score with. Not anymore.

Jason thinks he's doing it because he's looking out for Tim. Because anyone with eyes can tell they just want Tim for one thing, and he deserves so much better than that.

When Tim realizes what's going on, he's already been grinding on this hot buff guy who came up behind him for two songs in a row. Tall, dark and silent keeps stopping Tim from turning around, and he doesn't slip a hand any lower despite all of Tim's silent offerings. Weird, but the anonymous gentleman act is kinda hot, so--

And then he glances at the round, silvered mirror in the corner. He clocks the white streak in the head of black hair dipped low over his, the gun callouses running rough over his bare stomach. He stiffens up in Jason's arms just long enough that he knows Jason knows he's been made. He drags him off to the bathrooms ("come on, handsome") and the second the doors shut and they're alone, he whirls on him.

They argue. Tim is embarrassed and it's coming out as anger, Jason is annoyed (and still processing the revelation he'd been having on the dancefloor, the one where Tim was lithe and warm in his arms, his long fingers twining through what hair he could reach at Jason's nape, where he smelled like sweat and musk and Tim and Jason found himself wanting to know if the gleaming patch of skin in the bare crook of his neck would taste the same--)

Jason is annoyed and has no explanation that will satisfy Tim. He wants to know why Tim ghosted him when the last mission they worked ended in bloody, near-disaster, and the case it was tied to still hasn't fully wrapped. He gets taking a few days off to recover, but it's been longer than that. Way longer, with no contact, no explanation, no 'I got shot so I'm gonna need a week or maybe three'. Wasn't Tim going to finish the job? He told Jason he would help. Did he lie?

It yanks the rug out from under Tim. Makes him feel small, and selfish. He promises Jason he'll come back to the case, he just had some things to figure out. But that's done now.

Jason loses the thread on his irritation as Tim deflates, hates the hunched, defensive hug he's giving himself, looking vulnerable and tired in his scanty clubbing fit under the cold LEDs flickering above the bathroom sink. He catches sight of the fresh pink scar, the one he'd just felt out under his palms not ten minutes ago with something bordering on relief. (And hunger.)

He wants to reach out, "Tim--?"

But Tim brushes past him, fleeing out the door and disappearing through the crowd before Jason can stop him.

-

Everything is fine. Totally 100% fine and dandy--

--is what they both are telling themselves.

Tim is doing his best to stifle his feelings, stomps down on them ruthlessly every time he catches them flaring up, and is counting the seconds until this is finally over and he can get to work dousing the massive fucking torch he's been holding in peace.

Tim comes back to help Jason with the rest of the case, but he's palpably distant, brittle when they banter-- and Jason hates it. He still remembers how Tim felt against him, how he'd melted into Jason, silently begging to be touched. For Jason to touch him.

It's been quietly rearranging some things in Jason's head. He's replayed their argument in the bathroom over and over. He thinks about Tim, about the timing of his disappearance--

(About the bullet he'd dug out of Tim's body, silver and red, and the desperate flow of his blood over Jason's wrists. About the night spent monitoring Tim's condition in a rundown safehouse, feeding him ice chips and brushing the hair out of his eyes, brushing off every bullshit attempt he made to tell Jason he was fine.)

--about figuring things out and avoiding Jason's eyes. And Jason wonders.

They have one last big bust to make, after days of stewing in their own unresolved tension. It goes down textbook; easy. In and out.

Except, at the last minute, during extraction, Jason gets shot. And Tim freaks.

He puts their plane on autopilot the moment they're clear (maybe a few moments before they're clear, actually) and dashes to where Jason is groaning just inside the bay doors. He's tight-lipped and grim-faced; his hands are fast and efficient, but shaking.

"Tim," Jason tries to say, but he gets shushed with a glare.

"Don't talk," Tim clips out. He undoes straps and disarms panels Jason thought were secret, and then he pulls out a pair of medical scissors.

"Tim--" Jason tries again, more urgently, but Tim doesn't even glance at him, just cuts through Jason's undershirt to expose--

"Oh," he breathes.

"Yeah. I'm okay," Jason sighs.

The crunched up bullet is caught in Jason's last layer of kevlar. The round they'd fired on him had been dramatically big, but Jason gets in firefights basically 24/7. He's padded to hell and back, even more than your average Bat. He'll have a wicked bruise and his rib might be sore for a week, but that's about it.

That's it.

Tim is still for an achingly long ten seconds, breathing shallow as he stares at Jason's armor. The proof that it's effective. And then he collapses.

He sits back heavily, elbows on his bent knees as he rubs his pale face. Jason watches as he visibly tries to pull himself back together, but relief keeps shaking him apart. Jason sits up.

Tim startles, tries to stand; Jason doesn't let him.

"Come here," he entreats, tugging Tim closer, firmly by the knees, to sit between Jason's legs with his thighs around Jason's waist, trembling under Jason's hands. "Don't go."

Tim twists his fists in Jason's jacket collar, eyes squeezing shut as Jason tips their foreheads together. Like he can't stand it. Caught in fight or flight-- but flight has been denied him.

"I know," Jason murmurs. "But don't go this time. Don't."

Tim drags in gasping breaths, and Jason runs soothing palms over his thighs, his waist, his arm, his neck. He thinks he understands. This feeling is too big. And if Tim is feeling half of what Jason feels, he gets why he'd want to run from it.

"Don't," he begs against Tim's mouth anyway. He kisses Tim until he moans into Jason, until he's sunk his fingers into Jason's hair; until he's sure he'll stay.

--AND THEN THEY HAVE DIRTY DIRTY SEX ON THE FLOOR OF THE PLANE AMEN

[whydousernamesevenexist]

@rosekillermicrofic 2nd May: Dread (it's like 03:15 in the morning and I probably have a fever lol)

Cw: mention of homophobia

Exposed

Word count: 798

Shit, shit, shit.

Barty frantically rummaged through his backpack. It wasn't there. His journal. Not a diary, mind you, that was for lovesick teenage girls.

Although Barty couldn't even be sure if he wasn't a lovesick teenage girl anymore.

Ever since he realised his feelings for his best friend two weeks ago, it's been eating him alive. Every waking thought, every dream, was filled with him. His Evan, his Rosie. And Barty began analysing every interaction with Evan. To be honest, he wasn't even trying to figure out if Evan likes him or not, he was sure Evan didn't. He was analysing his own behaviour to be sure he wasn't too obvious.

That's why he got the journal, too. Because his head felt like it was going to burst with all the running thoughts.

And now it wasn't there.

Who could've taken it? Or did Barty forget it somewhere?

He tried to summon it, but no such luck.

He sighed. He better get to lunch before Evan and Regulus get suspicious. Maybe he can look for the journal afterwards.

He managed to eat lunch without Evan noticing something was wrong with him. Regulus had some errands to run, so he wasn't at lunch.

But then he saw them - Mulciber and Snape. They had his journal. And they were looking this way.

No. Please.

He was immediately filled with overwhelming dread. And shame, too.

These two read about his deepest secret, and there was no chance they'd keep it to themselves.

Just what were they planning to do? Expose him, that's for sure. But how? When? Will they humiliate him in front of the whole school, or just Evan?

Well, it didn't matter much. If Evan found out… Barty wasn't sure what he'd do.

Shit. They were heading here.

What should he do? Ignore them?

"Hey, Crouch!" Snape yelled, an evil smirk plastered on his face.

"Lost something?" Mulciber laughed, waving the journal.

"Give it back," Barty pleaded quietly.

Of course, they didn't. Mulciber barked out a laugh and held the journal in the air, just high enough so Barty couldn't reach it.

"I didn't think you'd be bent, Crouch. You surprise me," Mulciber sneered, "is it the daddy issues?"

"Wait, Barty's gay?" Evan asked, surprised.

"Bisexual," Barty muttered. "Doesn't matter. Give it back."

Mulciber just laughed.

"Hey, he's right. Give him the journal back," Evan said firmly, stepping forward to reach for the journal.

Mulciber just smirked and lifted the book higher, out of Evan's reach.

"Wanna know who he's gay for, Rosier?" Snape laughed.

Something like hurt flashed in Evan's eyes, before he schooled his features into a practiced pokerface.

"I believe Barty will tell me about his crush when he's ready," he replied icily.

"Aww, you're not even the smallest bit interested?" Mulciber mocked. "That must've hurt, didn't it, Crouch?"

"Shut up," was all Barty could say. His breathing quickened, and he was sure everyone could hear the beating of his heart.

"It must've hurt, to know your little crush doesn't even care it's him, right?" Snape laughed. "Here, take it," he handed Barty the journal with a condescending smirk. "I don't think I could read one more disgustingly sweet line of your hopeless pining over poor Rosier over here."

Barty swallowed his tears, grabbed the journal, and bolted out of the Great Hall. He didn't dare to check Evan's reaction. He was sure it'd break his heart.

The astronomy tower.

He ran upstairs, and then sat down, pressed against the cold wall. It was a bit grounding.

Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his breathing was quick, ragged. He was clutching the journal tightly to his chest.

He heard quick footsteps. Evan appeared at the top of the staircase.

"B? Thank Merlin I found you," Evan sighed, out of breath. "I was worried you'd do something stupid."

"Just leave me alone, Ev," Barty sobbed out. "You don't have to rub it in."

"So it's true, then?" Evan ignored his request. "You really like me?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Barty replied and hid his face in his knees. "Now go away, will you? I'm already humiliated as it is. I'm sorry for making it weird between us, and for making you uncomfortable. We don't have to be friends anymore. But please, don't tease me about it even more," he choked out.

"Oh for the love of- come here," Evan sighed, exasperated. He sat across from Barty and pulled him into a hug.

"I like you too, alright? Honestly, I can't believe you didn't figure it out earlier, I'm not exactly the most subtle person."

Barty looked up at him, searching for a trace of joke in Evan's face. There was none.

He smiled slowly.

"Can I kiss you?" He whispered.

"Of course," Evan smiled, and leaned in.

[obxone]

Now You Gotta...

Edited-ish. ~850 words.

“Missed me!” You yell at JJ as he throws an empty beer can just past you. Sticking out your tongue at him is the perfect bait before you wink at him. “That’s 0 for 6, right?”

“4.” He mutters, picking up another crushed can littering the ground by the fire. Kie will have him picking every single one up once the game is over. You both know it.

You grin at him. “Guess you need to work on your aim.”

Pope laughs, enjoying the banter while Sarah and John B are busy making out by the fire. Kiara is inside, pulling things together for s’mores.

Another beer can falls a few inches to your right, and you laugh before smirking at JJ. “Missed again!”

“I’m going to get you, one way or another.” JJ is growing irritated, and it makes you grin bigger. He scoops up another before hurling it at you. This one rockets past your face by less than an inch.

His widened gaze meets yours, both of you shocked at how close he got to hitting you in the face.

“Missed me.”

He rolls his eyes and gets up, but you know what is about to happen, so you quickly move to put the making out pair between you. Pope grins, watching with delight in his eyes. The two of you bickering always makes Pope laugh. You were quick-witted, and JJ could flirt with just about anyone. It is pure entertainment for anyone who gets a chance to witness it.

You are well aware of what he is tempting. Even as you try to playoff his advances discreetly, you grin, butterflies exploding in your belly. “What? Throwing beer cans at me isn’t enough?”

He makes another move to get around the fire. His ball cap comes off, and he flexes it between his palms. You shake your head at him, a warning shining in your eyes, afraid he would throw it and miss you, and it land in the fire. His favorite red cap burned to ash because he could not help himself.

“JJ,” you murmur gently. “Don’t you dare.”

He laughs before he flicks his wrist, and the hat falls just shy of the fire. You tilt your head at him in surprise. His confidence rewarded him in it not burning.

“Missed me, missed me.” You stick out your tongue. “Now you’ve gotta…” You fade out, cheeks burning. All eyes are on you, including Sarah and John B.

“Now I’ve got to what?” JJ asks, drawing closer.

“Nothing.” You shrug, side-stepping around Pope’s chair and frantically searching for something to distract him or save yourself with. “Forget it.”

“No, no, no.” JJ smirks, using his longer legs to close even more distance between you. “Now I gotta what?”

You flush hotter, gaze catching on Sarah’s face. She is smirking, enjoying herself, and clearly ignoring your silent pleas for help. In your desire to get her help, you miss JJ closing the distance. Then there is the hot press of his hands around your waist. You jump in surprise, a sharp gasp falling from your lips.

JJ laughs, enjoying having the upper hand while he looks at you. His blue eyes burn as they lock with yours. “Now I gotta what?”

You shiver, fingertips digging into his arms as he holds you. “… kiss me.” You whisper, voice slightly trembling. The butterflies in your stomach increase by 100 times.

And he does. JJ Maybank kisses you in a searing kiss. Sarah gasps, and John B shares a yelp of surprise with Pope before they wolf whistle and jostle each other in joy. But you cannot help yourself, and you kiss him back. Your hands move up his arms, his shoulders, and into his hair. Your fingers twist in the blond locks as the kiss deepens. Your toes curl in your shoes, and you shiver, pressing your body closer to his.

“Whoa!” Kiara’s voice echoes across the lawn.

His grip tightens a fraction, asking you to stay in his arms. Worry clouds his gaze as he waits to see if you will shame him or stay with him. The chance of his luck running out just as he gets to you scares him.

“What is going on?” Kiara whispers louder than she intended. You laugh, resting your head on JJ’s shoulder as you evaluate each pogue for any objection to this new connection. It would be against a rule, but at the same time, no one objected to Sarah and John B. And you liked JJ so very much.

“Finally,” John B grins, winking at you both. “JJ can stop complaining about getting nowhere with you.”

JJ shakes his head, hiding his burning cheeks by ghosting his lips across your temple. You look at him in surprise to which he shrugs at. The confidence wavering slightly before he leans in again. “He’s not wrong.”

“He never is.” You murmur, pecking his lips. "You can kiss me anytime you want; you know."

He laughs. "I plan to."

[greenorangevioletgrass]

Hi :) can you write sth for cyclone. he is so underrated. total as*hole to all world but big softie for his girl

Oh, absolutely!! We don’t talk about him enough and between you and me, i would 1000% go Hamm on his Jon 😝

but listen. The thing about Cyclone is that he’s always been a grumpy fuck. He sports a permanent scowl at work, and good luck on inviting him to an after-work thing.

Which is why seeing him drink at the bar alone is a rare sight.

And seeing him talking to and beaming at the young bartender… well.

In his defense, you’re very pretty. Much too young than what he’s used to, but then again he’s used to a shitty marriage with an ex in his age bracket. And you’re so pretty, moving behind the counter as you effortlessly banter with him.

“So… Beau? With a regular spelling or the French one?” You ask as you make somebody else’s ordered.

“‘B-E-A-U’, the right one.”

It makes you chuckle. “You from the South?”

“Yeah, actually. Texas.”

“Ah, so you’re one of those French Southerners. The one with the big ranches and, uh… questionable ancestry.”

He smiles into his Scotch. Gosh, he loves how ballsy you are with your jokes. He can’t help but lean into it. “Well, I wouldn’t say we all married our cousins… but there was a time where—when it’s time to to get hitched, we didn’t have a whole lot of options.”

“Oh no! Is that why it didn’t work out with your ex-wife?”

Beau just about loses it. He tips his head back laughing. Nobody had ever dared to talk to him that way… and he actually liked it.

“No, seriously. You didn’t marry your cousin, right…?”

“No! Sweet Jesus…” he shakes his head, his full laughter slowly dissipating into a chuckle.

“Dude, are you seeing this shit?” Coyote blindly nudges Payback and Fanboy at their booth across the bath.

Fanboy looks up to where his friend is nodding. “Huh. Ten bucks he’ll leave with her at the end of the night.”

Payback snorts. “Are you kidding? She’s got him giggling like a school girl. Ten bucks if he marries her.”

Rightly so, Fanboy and Coyote shoves a ten-dollar bill just a year later.

[rubberfuckey]

all of your glory - rafe cameron

based on the song, all of your glory by broods !

summary: Rafe tries pushing you away, but you refuse. angsttttttt!

wc: 1k

masterlist

talk to me

He was pushing you away. You were losing him and you didn’t know how to make it better. Things had been rough for him lately, everyone could see it. The parties, the alcohol, the drugs, all the fighting. The fury radiating off of him at all times was coming to a head. Before when something upset him you would be able to distract him from it all until his spirits lifted, but that was back when your biggest problems were boys trying their luck with you at parties and detentions from his least favorite teacher. Now there are huge sums of money and status on the line. Those stakes mixed with his increased drug usage proved to be ruining the relationship you fought so hard to maintain. Truth be told, Rafe had never been easy to be in a relationship with. It was so easy to fall in love with him, but disproving his self-doubt and self-sabotage was a hard task. He knew you loved him, you made sure to make it known in everything you do, but he knew he wasn’t worthy of any of it. 

“Y/N, why don’t you come sit with us?”

JJ shouts over the crowd at the boneyard. You looked around and saw everyone watching you. Rafe had chewed your head off loudly when you whispered your concern for how much he had had tonight. It was stupid, you should know better by now to keep your comments to yourself, even if it was coming from a place of love. You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked back tears as you kept your head high and walked over to the pogues. You were sure you’d be in for it tomorrow when Rafe hears about you fraternizing with his least favorite people on the island, but right now you didn’t care. You deserved to have fun too. No one dared to comment on what had happened with Rafe tonight and you danced the night away, drinking beer after beer and hitting JJ’s blunt. John B dropped you off in front of Tannyhill at the end of the night, you couldn’t exactly go home in your intoxicated state. You tiptoe up the stairs and find your way into Rafe’s room as quietly as possible and smiled to yourself at the peaceful look on his face as he slept on his stomach. You walked over to take the shoes off of his feet and pulled the comforter over him. Pressing a small kiss to his shoulder blade, you got cozy in the bed next to him as he groaned and stirred. He flipped over onto his side, facing you, pulling you tight against him instinctively. 

“Goodnight, Rafe. I love you.”

“Hmm, love you more, angel.” 

You bit back a smile and pushed further back onto him. No matter what, you’re at home in his arms. 

You winced at the daylight flooding through the windows as you’re pulled from your sleep after hearing a door slam. Looking next to you, you see the bathroom door closed and Rafe slamming the drawers before he came out with an angry look on his face. You gave him a sheepish smile and looked at the clock on the wall next to him. What the fuck could he possibly be mad about at 8 am?

“We should break up.”

Your jaw dropped, “Come again?”

“We should break up. I’m not good for you.”

“Rafe-”

“No. Don’t cut me off when I’m trying to talk. Kelce texted me, what the fuck were you doing with JJ? No, actually, don’t even bother answering that question. I pushed you to this point, right? You’re slumming with dirty pogues now? Baby, that’s a new low. You need to get away from me.”

You shook your head in disbelief. Standing up from the bed, you walked straight to him and grabbed his chin to make eye contact with him. His pupils were blown and his eyes darted across the room as he fidgetted. 

“Rafe,” you whispered, tears welling in your eyes.

“Y/N, stop,” he voiced cracked, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You asked softly, hands moving to hold his face.

“Like you’re disappointed in me.”

“I’m scared, Rafe.”

“That’s why you need to get away from me. Far away.”

He sniffled, you couldn’t tell if it was the drugs or his emotions getting the best of him. You stayed silent until he continued.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I can’t be what you need.”

You shook your head in refusal.

“Rafe shut up. Seriously, you’ve been saying the same shit for months now.” You dropped your hands and walked back to sit on the edge of his bed as he watched, mouth agape. 

“Things haven’t been good for a while. You’ve been annoying, you’ve been an asshole, I’ve hated you some days. You’ve made some really shitty decisions and you’ve hurt me in the process. But, Rafe, that shit doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, because I believe it will get better. I’ve stuck by you for this long and I’ll be damned if I let you push me away after everything you’ve already put me through. I love you, Rafe, I’m in love with you and I cannot see myself with anyone else. So suck it up, you’re not just getting rid of me like I don’t matter. Because I do.” 

You ended your rant with a huff and looked at the shocked expression on his face.

“How can you be so sure that it’s worth it?”

“At the end of every day, I know I’m coming home to you. That no matter what happened in the day, we will be laid next to each other at night. You love me, right?”

“That’s a stupid fucking question.”

“Exactly, that’s all I need. Unconditionally, you in all of your glory.”

He tried to hold back the emotions as you looked at him unwaveringly. He paced over to you and pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Don’t leave me,” he whimpered.

You were sure you’d have to have this conversation another time in the future, but for right now it seemed to lull the dark thoughts in his head and that was enough for the time being.

“Never,” you replied.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 7

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | Pt. 6 | AO3 | playlist

this is the last chap of my steddie week fic!! i have a little blurb i may do for tomorrow's open ended prompt, but for now, here's the last @steddie-week prompt: misunderstandings

Robin stops him as they’re herding the gremlins into their respective vehicles. You’d think that after nearly five hours of spending the four barely adults’ money would be enough time at the arcade. But no. They’re all fighting them on leaving. As if they all won’t be asleep by the time they get home.

“Once you get it done, you may want to get up early.”

“Uh..what?”

“Steve always goes for a run at like ass o’clock in the morning.” she’s speaking low and fast to try and not draw attention to them, but their normal level of volume with one another is normally 100 times louder than this, so she’s really doing the exact opposite. “If you get up early enough, you can leave it for him while he’s gone.”

“Okayokay, I got it! Now stop making this weird.”

She looks around to find Steve already staring at the two of them questioningly.

“Oh shit… OKAY, YEAH, GOOD LUCK WITH YOUR DATE EDDIE.” she practically yells.

“What the hell, Robin? I don’t have a date!”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure it’ll be great!” she’s walking away already, shrugging like even she doesn’t know why the fuck she said that. “Call me when you’re home!”

Eddie smacks his palm against his forehead and turns to his van, not even daring to look at Steve again.

He finally does dare once he’s in his van and has started moving, giving Steve a ‘nothing wrong or weird here’ wave as he pulls away.

The expression on Steve’s face is indiscernible. Somewhere stuck between totally blank, and the most devastated look he’s ever seen.

Damnit, Robin.

He only ended up with Max in his van on the way back, so when they get back, he helps her inside, and resigns himself to staying up all night to finish the tape.

He pulls in next to Wayne’s truck at the same time his uncle is coming out the front door, a dufflebag in hand. 

“You off to work early old man?” and he asks as he gets out of his van, it’s only about 9 PM now and his uncle doesn’t usually go in until near midnight. 

“Yep, gettin’ some dinner with the fellas before we head in. Gotta leave shift early to go visit yer aunt.”

Ah. “That time of year is it?”

“Yep, I’ll see ya tomorrow evenin’, son. Don’t be getting into any trouble, y’hear?”

Eddie just shrugs. “You know me.”

“That’s exactly my point.” Wayne says with a crinkly smirk.

He gives his uncle a short hug, and Wayne kisses the top of his head with another ‘be safe’.

Then, because he’s agonizing about it, Eddie spends the next couple hours cleaning the trailer instead of picking the last two songs that will go on his side (listening to said tape while he does).

He’s still got some ideas from before, but only a couple good ones..and not all of them will fit in the time he’s estimated is left on the B side.

It isn’t until he gets to Be My Baby on his second listen through that he knows which one he’s going to add next.

After he’s got that one figured out and recorded, there definitely isn’t enough room left for the rest of the picks, so he adds the one he thinks says the most about how he feels about Steve, the one that says everything he needs to say.

-----

“Robin did say ‘ass o’clock’,” Eddie says to himself, glancing at the clock in his dashboard.

5:13. Yeah, that sounds right.

Eddie lets out a huge cracking yawn. Okay, he’s definitely gonna crash once he gets back to the trailer. He was so wired after finally finishing the tape, he couldn’t sleep even though he wanted to.

He makes it to Steve's street and parks up the road a bit (not wanting the rattle of his van to alert Steve to his presence if he hadn’t left yet), and walks the last leg. The tape in his pocket feels like it weighs a million pounds.

When he finally rounds the bushes at the front edge of Steve’s yard, Eddie feels every cell in his body seize up at once.

Nancy’s car is in the driveway.

What the–

Suddenly, the front door opens. He dives back behind the bushes, peeking through the leaves. You know, like a sane person?

Why the fuck is Nancy leaving Steve's house so early

Why is Steve only wearing those tiny fuckin’ shorts?

Oh no..

Oh shit.

There’s only one fucking reason

This is all wrong! Nancy knows he has feelings for Steve, was that not what that was at the arcade?

She’s with Robin, she didn’t refute it.

Oh fuck, he’s gonna have to tell Robin.

Eddie debates making himself known, let himself barrel over whatever awkwardness may arise, but he’s still got his heart in his pocket, addressed to Steve.. What’s he supposed to do with that then?

“Oh hey Steve, didn’t see you there! Just came by to drop off your very personal property that your best friend stole for me to defile! Nancy? Oh hey, you’re here! What’s up with tha–”

He’s startled out of his thoughts when the door of Nancy's station wagon shuts, the engine turning over. 

She pulls out, thankfully heading away from where he’s hidden.

Eddie watches until she’s out of sight, then jumps again when he hears Steve’s front door close.

Steve does a few hops in place from foot to foot on his front stoop (still shirtless), and starts off on his run the same way Nancy had gone. Had he been able to see shirtless, sweaty Steve whenever he wanted?? He just goes for runs like this every day? Why had no one told him??

‘Oh fuckin’ hell, shut up, shutup!!’ He yells at himself.

Now what?

Eddie sits in the grass in Steve Harrington’s front yard and stares at the back of his mailbox.

Does he still leave the tape? Of course he should, it is Steve’s tape afterall.

But what about the songs? Steve’s not gonna want his bullshit now…

He could go back to his van and re-write the note then come back and leave it. No, he wouldn’t have time now, Steve’s athletic, yeah, but Eddie’s been frozen in his front yard for a while now. He’d be back soon.

Fuck it. 

He’ll drop the tape on the front step, go back home and pack up his shit. Yeah. Good a time as any to get the fuck outta here.

Confessing your feelings to one of your closest friends who very obviously just got back together with his ex not even ten hours after you’d seen him and were very obviously flirting with each other?

Yeah. Not ideal.

Does he have the funds to get the fuck outta here? No. But he’s got enough for gas and he’s got a van. He’ll just load his mattress into the back and be gone before the rest of the town fully wakes up.

Good plan, Eddie’s brain. Thank you, rest of Eddie.

-------

Steve slows to a jog once he can see his house, cooling down from his run on the last little bit of his road, and stopping in his driveway to do some stretches back to the door.

He’s sinking down into his last lunge when he sees the little square of…something…sitting on the front step.

“The hell?”

He stoops down and picks it up, turns it over. There’s a piece of lined paper rubber banded around it.

Peeling off the band, Steve steps inside and unfolds the letter, leaning back on the now closed front door to read

“...oh no…” Steve looks down at the case in his hand. Now he sees why the rubberband was necessary, there’s another folded wad of papers shoved into the cassette’s case, now popped open without the band holding it together.

His heart, previously calmed down from his run, now beat wildly in his chest as he unfurls the short stack of paper.

He reads the first line, ‘8. I Was Made For Lovin’ You...’

“Holy shit.”

Steve books it up the stairs, he’s gotta get showered, he’s gotta get changed, he’s got one more song to add to the tape.

-------

Eddie’s just finished packing up his clothes when his alarm clock radio goes off, the 7am alarm still set for when he has to get up for school.

“...still don’t believe it, he was just leaving OH there must be some misunderstanding! There must be some kind of mistake…” blasts through the tinny speakers.

Nopenopenope, not dealing with that right now.

He slaps the clock around until it finally shuts off its maniacal teasing, and goes back to packing (and blinking away some wayward tears).

He’s just dropped the second bag of clothes and his sweetheart in her case by the front door and is contemplating if his mattress would actually fit in the back of his van, when there’s a knock on the door.

Eddie’s gut freezes mid-flip.

Oh no. Please n–

“Eddie, are you there? It’s Steve. Can I come in?”

‘Don’t move. Don’t make a single sound. Maybe he’ll think you’re not home and just leave.’

“C’mon man, I know you’re in there. You’re van’s out here.”

“Shit.”

Eddie trudges his way to the front door and opens it.

Even with floppy, just-washed, hair and an inside-out polo, Steve’s still the most beautiful person in existence.

“What do you want, Steve?” Wow. Even he’s surprised at how morose he sounds.

“I uh, I got your tape..my tape? I got your note. I added one more song and I thought, maybe, I could–” Steve looks down. “Are you..” his voice pitches high so he clears it. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Mhm.” Eddie can’t look him in the eye. He stares at the porch.

“Where are you–”

“Just going, ‘kay Steve? No need to worry about me being around anymore.” Eddie practically spits, still not looking up at his friend.

“Eddie, what are you–” he cuts himself off, his voice going soft. “Did you not mean what you said?”

That makes Eddie look up at him. Steve’s gaze is now cast downwards, staring blankly at Eddie’s packed bags.

“...I meant every word. Every song, Steve. But that doesn’t matter now, does it?” he’s truly mad now, who does he think he is, trying to act all glum like he wasn’t the one betraying his best friend.

“B-betraying my best–Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?”

Damn! He said that out loud.

“Just go away, Steve. I won’t tell Robin, but you definitely should.” Eddie moves to close the front door and turns back towards his room. He doesn’t hear it close, but he hears the creak of the floor when Steve follows him in.

Of. Course.

“Tell Robin what, Eddie? I already told her how I felt about you, that’s why she stole you the tape in the first plac–”

“Not that! You–” Eddie clenches his fists at his sides and spins back to face Steve. “That you hooked up with her girlfriend last night.” Steve’s face pales and Eddie continues on. “Yeah. I came by to drop off your tape; Robin thought I could leave it there when you left for your run. But lo and behold, what do I see when I come by? Nancy Wheeler’s car in your driveway at ass o’clock in the morning.

“Now, I may be a third time senior, but even I know what the fuck that means. Especially when, not long after I’ve gotten there, the Lady Wheeler herself waltzes out the door with Tiny Shorts McGee following her like a lost puppy.” he gestures at Steve, who’s still frozen in place by the door.

“So yeah, you can just burn those notes for all I care, I don’t even know why I still left it. Whatever. I’m leaving today anyway so you don’t need to worry about me pining hopelessly after you, ‘kay?”

Eddie’s chest is heaving, his eyes are burning with unshed tears, and Steve…starts laughing.

“I fuckin’ knew it!” There are tears spilling freely out of his eyes now. “You’re really good y’know, had everyone fooled. Even me! King Steve is alive and well, everyone!” Eddie spreads his hands wide and yells to no one.” I can’t believe you got me to fall for your good guy schtick. Get the fuck outta my house, Harrington.” Eddie points to the door, stalking forward.

“Eddie! Eddie, wait, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have laughed.” Steve puts his hands out and Eddie stops, crossing his arms and glaring. “Eddie, please, Nancy was only dropping something off for me.”

“Yeah righ–”

“She was! She came by that early because she’s driving to an interview this morning at a paper in Indy. She knew I’d be up for my run anyway, so she stopped to give me the revisions she made to my–you know what, hold on. I’m calling Robin.”

“Steve, I told you to get the fuck out of my house, not go further into it.”

Steve ignores him and goes to the phone, giving Eddie as wide of a berth as he can while he passes. He picks it up and dials.

“I’m not fucking kidding, Harrington, get the fuck out of here–” Eddie’s anger is multiplied tenfold when Steve holds out a finger to shush him.

“Hi Mr. Buckley, this is Steve. I’m sorry to call so early, but can I please speak to Robin? There was a last minute change to our schedule…thank you.’

Eddie watches Steve’s face morph from his customer service expression, to an admittedly frightening pissed off smile when Robin apparently gets on the line.

“Hey Robin! I found my Eddie tape! It’s the funniest thing, I came back from my run and it was sitting on my doorstep.”

Eddie can hear the muffled sound of Robin’s voice coming through the earpiece.

“I know, isn’t that crazy?” Damn, Steve’s passive aggressive voice is…something else. “He must’ve dropped it off while I was gone..why wouldn’t he give it to me in person?”

Steve waves at Eddie to come closer, and when he stubbornly doesn’t, Steve rolls his eyes and comes to him, stretching the cord across the kitchen as he does.

“Hmmm...maybe.. Or maybe something scared him off?” He takes in an over-dramatic sarcastic gasp. “Or maybe, my best friend and soulmate who stole the tape for him, told him to come by at the exact worst time! When she knew a certain ex of mine and current girlfriend of hers was stopping by before leaving to Indy and it scared him off!”

Steve tilts the handset out from his ear so Eddie can hear..there’s complete silence on the other end.

“That would suck, don't you think? Seeing your crush’s ex leaving their house early in the morning when you’re coming over to confess to them?” He continues.

“Oh. My. God. Steve!! I am so so sorry I–”

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to Eddie.”

Steve grabs up Eddie’s hand and wraps it around the handset, forcing him to take it, then stomps off into the living room.

Eddie puts the phone to his ear and walks back to the receiver, Robin rambling in his ear the whole way. 

“--ddie, I’m so so sorry! I totally forgot Nancy was dropping off Steve’s paper this morning before she went to her interview! Please please don’t be mad at me, actually, scratch that. Be super mad at me, but definitely not at Steve, okay? I should have remembered, I should have told you, I should hav–”

It’s effective, he feels the anger draining out of him. “Robin, Robin! It’s okay, you’re okay.” Eddie glances over at Steve, who’s pacing up and down the short length of the trailer’s living room. “But now I have a very pissed off Harrington in my house right now…you got any survival tips for me?” he mumbles lowly.

“...Oh! I know, just go over there and kiss hi–her–stupid!” Eddie snorts through his nose, her parents must still be nearby.

“Got it, I’ll try that. Thanks Birdie…for everything.”

She sighs in relief. “You’re welcome, Doofus.”

Eddie slowly hangs up the phone, and turns to where Steve is. Now stationary, he’s got one hand on his hip, and the other is rifling through his hair nervously.

‘Yep. Buckley’s right.’

Eddie takes a deep breath and crosses to Steve in three short strides, grabs his face in both his hands, and kisses him deeply.

Steve responds immediately; he wraps one arm around Eddie’s waist, his large palm centered squarely on his lower back, and one around his arm, lacing his fingers into Eddie’s curls and cupping the back of his head.

Steve pulls their bodies flush and cants his hips into Eddie’s, tugs a breathy moan from Eddie’s throat when the hand in his curls tightens.

Eddie’s nose is pressed uncomfortably into the space between Steve’s nose and cheekbone with how close they’ve smushed themselves together, but Eddie can’t find it in himself to care. 

He’s kissing Steve Harrington. 

There’s a strong thigh slotted between his, and Steve Harrington is kissing him back. 

Eddie moves one hand down to clutch at Steve’s shirt, and pushes the other back, grabbing onto those short hairs on the back of Steve’s neck.

They finally come up for air after one too many teeth clashes, their foreheads coming together.

“Hi.” they breathe out at the same time, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

“We’re kinda idiots, huh?” Steve says, looking cross-eyed between Eddie’s eyes. The hazel of his eyes sparkling with the movement.

Eddie chuckles. “Dingus and Doofus, remember?” he points to each of them in turn, only lifting his pointer finger out of the grip on Steve’s shirt to do so.

“Can I play you the last song now?”

and then they low dance in eddie's living room

Yay!! that's it, thanks for following along with this one!!! here's the last tags :o) @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, @manda-panda-monium

Here's some notes since it's the last part:

this is the most I’ve ever written in such a short time, I literally wrote each of these chapters the day before their day to be posted….most of it while at work lmao

Steve used a Sony C60 tape. i.e. there’s 60-ish minutes of space on it. before At Last, the songs on the tape totaled 55 min 55 seconds, a perfect amount left for Etta James (ending up at 58 min 54 seconds in total according to my spoofy playlist).

I know that the Eddie half of songs weren’t really…’Eddie music’, but in my head, Eddie likes music for being music. All music is good (like he said to Max in part 5). Plus, he wanted to put songs on the tape that he knew Steve would like/want to listen to.

steve asked nancy to make revisions on his nursing school application essay (he found he quite liked the process of taking care of eddie and wants to go to school for it!)

anyone else just recently realize that Take Me Home Tonight had an allusion to Be My Baby?? anyway, love that, wanted to make that a thing here :o)

and lastly, a couple of little things i LOVED about this fic that i didn’t see anyone else / only a couple people point out:

Steve singing the rubber duckie song to Eddie in part 5

Eddie literally giving Gareth the shirt off his back in part 2 when Tommy threw his pop on him (in my head, this is the same red buffalo check flannel that Gareth ends up cutting the sleeves off of and wears in S4).

that's all!! thanks for reading, friends :o)

[liyawritesss]

ᴅᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴜꜱᴇɪ ꜰᴜᴅᴏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇ...

Pairing: Fudo Yusei(YGO!5DS) x Black!Fem!Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Synopsis: What would it be like to date the Satelite Rising Star, Yusei Fudo?

Warnings: pre + post grand prix headcanons

A/N: Meet my childhood crush, yall.... there is absolutely no demand for this man. Literally none, but its 10pm and i was reminded of my love for this series from going to c2e2 last weekend. So. If I have to reminisce, I'm taking

Yusei is one of the guys that literally every girl wants; He’s kind, compassionate, and has an unnerving drive for justice and equality for his people.

Yusei is the kind of guy who’s comically nervous about asking someone out

It’s not like he had any examples of healthy romantic relationships, or any relationships at all for that matter, growing up in the Satelite. He was more focused on survival since it was every man for himself in that literal trash heap

He may attempt to reach out to Martha for some advice, but it would not help in the long run considering her views are a bit...outdated.

He’s not going to Crow or Jack, that is out of the question - they can’t even take care of themselves.

The twins’ view on love and relationships is more refreshed for the times but still, with no offense intended, childish

The only person he virtually had left to even think about asking for help was Akiza, who, like in any cliche case, just told him to ‘be himself’

With virtually no other option the boy asked you out for a night-time ride. It was the only ‘romantic’ thing he could come up with, so he was glad that you enjoyed it regardless

Dating Yusei requires lots of patience, not just because he’s always working to upgrade his runner or practice new duel tactics, but because he’s just never done this before.

He’s aro-ace to me, and I think it's further backed by that one episode where Martha tries to set him and Akiza up and he's very much against the idea, because a) the world is quite literally on collapse, and b) he never sees akiza like that. He was indifferent to the idea of love and romance, having been so fixated on survival for all his life, and so he needs time to get used to the idea of caring for someone in more than just a friendly way, and vise versa

He’ll probably gift you with little things you find interest in, like flattering rocks or crystals he just so happens to pass by on his rides - “I saw this crystal-looking thing on my patrol the other night, I thought you might like it.”

Will almost always be looking for you in a crowd if he’s in a duel for encouragement and good luck. Offer him a good luck kiss on his forehead or his deck, it will calm him down (even tho he knows hes gon win regardless) while inadvertently flustering him, but he’ll promise to make the duel quick so as to not worry you

As the years go on, his priorities change. After finding out the truth of his birth parents and what happened in the Ener-D reaction incident, he opts to lay down his deck and take up his fathers unfinished research in Neo-Domino City

He misses his old life and is still in contact with friends like Crow and Jack, and often goes to visit them and you back in the satellite every once in a while

Yusei still takes you on those late night rides, and still does things to show you how much he values your relationship even after years of turmoil and the world literally almost ending like twice

Yusei is probably one of, if not the most genuine people in the world, who wants to see the good in everyone and be the person people can rely on

The one thing Yusei will ever probably ask of you is to help him zone out if he’s overwhelming himself, which he will because he’s a workaholic by blood, and needs a daring little lady to bring him down to a chill level when he’s overworked himself.

If you enjoy, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don't be shy to send a request!

[cinamun]

Long Post Alert I sit as a proud reader of Things Fall Apart. So before I begin my story. Judge if you must and say to yourself ‘you better than me because ain’t no way’! And if you are I love that for you. I am married to a man like Mercy that is older than me. It was a whirlwind romance. The kind that reminds you of a romcom or your favorite r&b songs. Days turn into weeks, and you find yourself head over heels in love with a man who you believes feels the same for you.  He comes with baggage but nothing you can’t handle or at least you tell yourself that at first. Times goes on your relationship becomes a light switch it’s on/off when he says so. Don’t dare try and date anyone else because it’s was like he could sense my happiness and pop up out of the blue. Where he has and what he has been doing in the time apart doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is he missed me in this moment. So I would give in and for a while things are good, the light is back on and it is shining brighter each. Which would make when he cut it off hurt that much more. So I do it again move on. (Get engaged even)! As luck would have it he misses me, but I am engaged and happy please leave me alone. He smiles that smile you know you miss me and one last time won’t hurt and who’s gonna know unless you tell them? So someone would tell the growing baby in my belly. So now he’s overjoyed no more fiancé and I am having his baby just like we had talked about in the past. So I marry my Jackson and for a while things are good. Until they weren’t. I learned of my husband’s transgressions on the night that I was using his phone to call the ambulance because he was having a heart attack!! Imagine how I felt in that moment. Our kids need their father and I didn’t want my life as I know it to change. Oh but I’d be lying if I said I thought about not calling for help. At this point we in a valley but I am always waiting for the next peak. And he has always called me ‘My love’ or Kid. So whatever Mercy did maybe she shouldn’t have done it, but some can understand why she did it. #hehaditcoming

First of all, I love you. Secondly, my eyes just got so big reading this. Third, WE GOTTA TELL OUR STORIES! So I hope you writing this ask and this god-forsaken chapter can somehow bring a little bit of light your way. While I do hope he trips and falls up the stairs tomorrow, I hope even more that you are able to do what's best for you and your child(ren) when you feel the time is ripe for you to do that. You never, EVER have to live within an unhappy valley. Life is so short friend, I want you to get your pixie cut too boo.

[justablogger234]

something my friends and I were talking about.

so the other day my close friends that I have on discord which mostly consists of @mike-haters-dni (who is definitely my discord best friend and or mileven sister 🤣) @chaotic-theatrical-weaver (my sweet little kiddo friend who is just adorable and too smart for someone younger than me) and my mileven sister @purpleangelsele. The discussion we were having was about how some people mostly b$lers, heck I'd even include some mike haters who believe that as well, they were saying that mike and elevens relationship kinda reminds them of the born se** yesterday trope (forgive me but I don't like saying that word at all even in text so I took out the letters).

And at first I didn't know what that was, i thought it was a song or even a movie cause I'd never heard of that term before and then I watched the very helpful video on this trope and let me tell you that I was shocked. Like very shocked that people would go as far to say that mike is one of those guys. How dare you morons say that mike and els relationship is based on or even reminds you of this trope. Guys. Mike was just a kid when he found el. They are both quite literally KIDS. They were both 12 years old when they found each other. It is very much implied that mike never had much or any luck with girls, I doubt he even cared about girls cause he had the boys and deep down he falsely thought that no know girl would ever like him.

Then he meets el and all changes. It's not like he was telling her that kissing is really good and healthy or that she should listen to everything he says. No, he gave her a name, a home, food and clothing. Now that I think about it, a detail I never took into consideration, I will discuss that in an immediate follow up post. Mike gave her everything she needed. But most of all, he gave her options, he gave her a choice. He never forced anything on her.

He never forced her to find will, he always asked her what she wanted or needed. Bottom line is, if you really think that mike is someone that would take advantage of El like that then you need to rewire your brain.

Because first off, you're implying that mike is some sort of disgusting pervert who would take advantage of a young mute special girl. Second, you're also implying that El would be a willing victim. We all know that we is sooo much smarter than everyone else thinks, I think deep down she'd know that this boy is trying to take advantage of her like that, she's very intuitive.

So if mike is such a weird pervert who took advantage of El or keeps on using her. Why would you want him with will? You see? That's quite a convenient argument. But seriously, the mike hate and misinterpretation needs to stop.

The mileven hate and misinterpretation also needs to stop. You guys need to stop twisting a young and special relationship just to fit your narrative. Leave these kids alone and stop making them something that they're not. If you use this argument just to support your pathetic byler arguments then you definitely need to rethink yourself.

Even will would be disgusted with you fools for thinking of pathetic arguments like this to discourage mike away from el just to get with him.

[legolasghosty]

Hello, I heard you say that people don't send you many asks anymore, that needs to be changed immediately!!

Can I request a high school au with sticky notes? Something short and fluffy?

Okay, love you, byeeee!!! 💖💖💖

Gentlepeople of the world, may I present my lovely fiance? I love you so muchhhh! Thank youuuu! And yes of course you may! I love me some sticky notes!

Willie catches one glimpse of Julie on her way to class and reaches for the pad of sticky notes in their backpack. Her hunched shoulders and oversized blue and black flannel(probably Ray's) illustrate how she's feeling more than any words could. No time to catch her in the passing period, but he can probably get to her locker before she does after history.

They slide into their seat just as the bell rings. Reggie shoots him a smile from his spot a few seats over. Willie returns it, and doesn't miss the big A written at the top of the quiz Mr. Hood hands him a minute later. Willie's only has a B+, but he's happy with it. Mr. Hood starts talking about some club thing after that, so Willie sets his pad of sticky notes down just inside their desk to write. They have a few to write since this morning.

A hype up note for Julie, along with a dumb joke to make her smile on her bad day.

A good luck note to Carrie for her dance performance this afternoon.

A congrats note to Reggie for his history grade, which Willie knows he worked hard for.

A reminder to Luke that they're all doing dinner at the Molinas' tonight, cause he always forgets that kind of thing.

Willie's not sure when exactly it became A Thing, them writing notes to their friends and leaving them in their lockers throughout the day. His dad is probably to blame for the start of it. Caleb started putting notes in his lunchboxes less than a year after Willie had come to live with him. Usually reminders about appointments or best wishes for tests, but sometimes they just said "I love you" in the magician's curly, elegant handwriting.

So when Willie finally made friends, it only made sense to start writing the same notes to them.

He carefully folds the notes and tucks them into his pocket for later. As fun as it would be to ask for a bathroom pass and just happen to pass all his friends' lockers on the way, they'd gotten in trouble for that a couple of times already this year. He should probably try and pay attention.

After class finally ends, they dart out of the room. He's not sure he'll be able to get everyone before they reach their lockers, but he's certainly going to try.

When he's finished and stops for a second at his own locker, Willie is greeted by Alex's soft smile as the drummer leans against his own locker. Willie doesn't dare press his own lips against Alex's, they aren't really out as a couple at school, but they return his grin and brush their fingers against his on the way to his locker handle.

"How was history?" Alex asks.

"Same old," Willie responds with a shrug. "Bunch of straight white guys making up rules and ruining everyone else's lives."

"Youch, sounds like fun," Alex says sarcastically just as Willie swings his locker open.

Willie steps back, startled, as a bunch of slips of paper fall out of their locker. They're all little squares, uniform in size if not in color. And now they're on the floor all around their feet.

"Whoops," Alex mutters, dropping to his knees and starting to gather the papers.

Willie quickly joins him on the floor and scoops up a few of the slips. It takes the two of them a minute to gather them all. Just as they finish, the bell rings.

Alex swears under his breath and hands his stack of paper to Willie. "I gotta get to class, sorry," he says, offering a smile before hurrying off.

Willie stuffs the papers into his back pocket and slams his locker shut. At least he's already close to their English classroom. A quick dash later, he's sliding into his seat just as the teacher calls his name for roll call.

With trying to pay attention in class and not get distracted by the spring leaves on the tree outside, Willie totally forgets about the papers until study hall, his last period of the day.

They shift in their chair for the millionth time, trying to get comfortable. Their pocket just feels weird underneath him. Willie reaches back to make sure some old receipt didn't end up in there or something. But instead he finds a bunch of colorful sticky notes.

Willie frowns down at the crumpled slips. Sure, he slips notes into people's lockers all the time, but he doesn't get them back much. And never this many at once. He starts laying them out across his desk, grateful for a teacher who mostly ignores them the whole period.

Each paper has a single letter on it, which was odd, but they're all written in a very familiar hand. Willie smiles softly. Alex's awkward fumbling for them suddenly makes a lot more sense.

The letters are P, W, O, M, T, H, E, I, another M, and R, with a ? on the final note. Willie grins at the challenge and begins rearranging them into words. The worm? Moth prim? Their Mom?

Oh.

Willie feels like his heartbeat can probably be heard by the whole school as they fumble for their own notepad.

YES, I would LOVE to go to prom with you!!!! they write on the little blue paper. Though maybe this one can be a hand delivery, rather than being slipped into Alex's locker. It is the end of the day after all. No use leaving their boyfriend on pins and needles any longer.

Willie carefully tucks Alex's notes into a folder, probably looking like an idiot for how wide he's grinning but not caring in the slightest. Alex just asked him to prom! Which means coming out together. Being them. For the whole school to see.

Willie can't wait.