#but!! there are a few of us still hangin around :')

[good-beans]

Please tell me about Lukas.

Sincerely, a poor soul who is obsessed with Milgram but knows very little about Fire Emblem.

Lukas is my beloved character of all time :) Comfort character to rival all comfort characters :) He’s just like me fr :) He’s so healing to watch heal :)

He’s from Fire Emblem Echoes, and for a good portion of the game he’s that mentor/tutorial character who helps you/the protagonist through the new world you’re thrown into. The thing was, they put together an incredibly complex asexual, neurodivergent guy who’s not really in it for the fighting (but is damned good at it anyway). They gave him the sweetest and saddest smile possible. They gave him the most relaxing voice you could imagine. They gave him two of the wackiest and complimentary friends. How could I not fall in love?

Basically, he reveals that he’s not involved in this whole war because he wanted to be – his father and brother conspired to send him away to fight for their own gain, not really caring if he lived or died. He took on the new life with just as much motivation as if he chose it himself, though. He’s not here for any dreams of glory or violence, he just wants to help the new friends he’s made ;-; He has a really big heart, but he’s not afraid to make the tough call and commit war crimes. He’s gentle to the child soldier protagonists, but is the first person to trust them and allow them into the army. 

Fire Emblem is notorious for its fanservice, which is why I will forever be Insane over his support conversation with one of those friends I mentioned. He describes his struggles with romance and desire, perfectly describing an asexual experience. His friend, Python, responds with so much kindness. It’s done with a lot of tact and respect, and was one of the final pieces to my own acceptance of my asexuality. 

Less intended, but he talks about his struggles with emotions that comes off as low-empathy neurodivergence, or a form of Alexithymia. He doesn’t feel strong emotions most of the time, then occasionally gets swept up in them and lashes out. (Sorry for all the tmi but) this is also something I struggle with. Though I come off overly excited online, I’ve dealt with the same coldness/heartless accusations he has. His writing and voice acting really drive it home, and it’s wonderful to see. Once again, he’s treated with immense respect for this trait. He feels self-conscious about it, but the cast sees that as a strength of his.

His relationship with the other two knights is super fun! I could go on separate rants about Python and Forsyth, but just know they are equally perfect. They all compliment one another so well, and hype each other up in such lovely ways. They've even got a fun RGB color scheme going on :3

OKAY I AM CUTTING MYSELF OFF because I could go on forever about him 😂 He holds such a special place in my heart -- it's silly, but thank you sm for asking :’) And, since you mentioned Milgram, this reminded me of a super goofy comparison to Yuno I made as one of my first Milgram posts, as well as my wips of the Fuuta-Lukas outfit swap I need to finish...

[k9wa]

⟁ SENSITIVE ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — “you get all excited for me to fix you up and call you a good boy.”

⠀ OR

⠀ — a sensitive spot during a repair leaves him melting into your callused little hands.

⚠︎ mechanic!reader, so much flirting im kind of sick, he whimpers i have an agenda, this is like 90% dialogue sorry, he wants u sooo bad. wc 1k, from this req.

“y’know darlin,” boothill managed to breathe out through a taut jaw and clenched teeth. “you bein’ this close ain’t exactly helpin’ me focus none.”

your fingers were slow, careful, precise as they pushed a few tiny wires apart, giving view deeper inside the little panel on boothill’s throat.

the position you two stood in was one all too familiar, boothill perched on your workbench with you between his thighs— the only new variables being your face way closer than he’s used to and your fingers proding around in his surprisingly sensitive wires.

it was an…odd sensation, to say the least. a small unpleasant stinging that simultaneously stimulated a rather pleasant shiver up his back with every small poke.

“time and place, cowboy.”

you responded quietly, tone a little flat with your tease from concentration.

“can’t help lettin’ my mind— wander, can i now?” his breath hitched a bit as you nicked a particularly touchy wire.

“if you let me finish this,” you lifted your head enough to meet his eyes, free hand gently smoothing out the crease in his brow. “i’ll let you show me just how wild your imagination can get.”

boothill bit back a scruff chuckle at that. 

“that enough incentive for you to sit still?”

“well, i reckon that’s plent— mmgh!”

a pair of mechanical hands tightly grab onto your hips as his shoulders tense, a knee-jerk result of your tweezers finding the out of place wire you’d been looking around for.

your hands paused, opting to ignore the way he audibly whimpered for raising your gaze a second time to check on him.

“you hangin’ in there?”

boothill’s fingers flexed as they held onto you, relaxing from squeezing your pants to a more gentle cradle of your hips.

“you know,” he swallowed thickly— as if his throat could even dry out, likely just a natural reflex— “you got a way of makin’ fixin’ me up feel real special.”

the slight waver to his voice isn’t lost on your ears— it was quite loud in them, actually.

“i’m hangin’ in fine, don’t worry your pretty head none.”

carefully retracting your tweezers, you stood up straight enough to lightly push his hat up, giving view to his face and cupping your hand over a blue-hued cheek.

“wanna take a break?” 

he nearly had to clutch his chest with the gentle concern that laced your tone.

boothill knew he was flushed, was purposefully avoiding looking you in the eye because a few pokes to some sensitive spots had him sliding his hands to your waist like a lifeline— not that what he could distantly feel of your skin against the synthesised nerves of his palms weren’t doing much to cool him off anyway. but he did…relax, somewhat. 

he always enjoyed when you’d touch his face, getting to feel all the unique little details of you; the gentle drum of your pulse and the little calluses from your tools. it somehow always manages to make the tension in his body ebb away, draining with an exhale that lightly fans against your wrist.

he shook his head with a quiet clear of his throat— another unnecessary function that served more as a tick than anything.

“nah, nah i’m alright.” he assured. it didn’t make him any less embarrassed to be having such a reaction. 

big bad criminal until you get a little too fudgin’ touchy, apparently.

“let’s just get this finished up, yeah? maybe we can move onto somethin’ more pleasant.”

your thumb gave two gentle taps to his cheekbone before it pulled away, reaching for your tweezers for the nth time.

“that’s my boy.”

oh how boothill’s chest bloomed at the simple praise, the endearing ‘my’ that slipped in with it licking up his ribs and curling to rest along where a drumming heart should have been.

“jus’ be gentle with me, will ya sugar plum?”

“you know i've always got ya.”

each plug or untangle of a little yellow or red cable had his systems humming, fingers occasionally curling into your hips every time a little surge left him biting his cheek a little harder.

“we’re almost done,” your voice is icing on an already cavity-inducing cake, though he’ll gladly take a toothache if it’s for you. “just a little longer.”

boothill was going fist to fist and losing with the urge to completely melt under your deft fingers.

“…keep talkin’ to me,” he requested with a murmurmurmur, cautious not to move too much. “helps me stay on t—” he had to bite back another whimper, cheek going between his teeth and eyes going to the ceiling. “—task.”

boothill didn’t miss the little tug of your lips.

“you know, you do this thing when you get shy.” you mused quietly, breath meeting the shell of his ear. “you bite your cheek ‘n look away. it’s cute.”

boothill couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at your deduction. he tried to regain some of his composure, though the colour in his cheeks continued to betray him.

“i don’t know ‘bout shy,” he rumbled, keeping his voice steady as he could. “but i’ll take cute if it means i get to hear you keep sweet talkin’ me. keep this up and i might start enjoyin’ these repairs a lil too much.”

his voice was a little strained, though still held his usual humour.

“like you don’t love em already.” you teased back, gently closing the panel on his neck as it re-sealed with a small hiss. “you get all excited for me to fix you up, call you a good boy and send you on your merry way.”

“i’m still waitin’ on that last bit, y’know?”

you shook your head, popping his hat off his head and placing it on your own.

“good boy,” you pinched his cheek endearingly. “you’re all done. do you want a lolipop too?”

“think i deserve somethin’ a lil sweeter than a lolipop, don’t you sugar?” boothill’s face unknowingly deepens at the sight of you in his hat, brave words betrayed by a nervous tap in his finger and more blue to the apples of his cheeks.

“we’ll save it for when you’ve got a real booboo,” you took his hat off, using the brim to lightly tilt his chin up and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. for such a heavy hunk of metal, he nearly began to float.

“but there’s something to hold your sweet tooth for now.”

…

“boothill?”

“y..yeah, sweet pea?”

“you’re overheating.”

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[satoruhour]

oh my god, i dont know if you write for this specifically (feel free to disregard if you don’t), but I’ve been thinking about satosugu x reader,,, imagine kissing the both of them!! spending a nice summer day with them!! just being able to enjoy spending time with the two of them!! I dont know if its my love for both of these characters and their relationship, but i just like thinking abt that dynamic,,,

a/n: wrote this yesterday to upload today since it was a loaded day today ❤️ enjoy. hope it’s up to standard cause i havent written fluff in a long time! / 1.3k, poly!satosugu x reader

sleep-ins were popular amongst the three of you. before you, suguru had his own routine of waking up early to brew some tea for himself, to get the laundry going . .

satoru, on his own, was a light sleeper, sitting straight up at any hint of sound due to his sorcerer duties but after moving in with geto, he’s been letting the long-haired man to do all the work.

and here came you, waltzing back into their lives (and apartment) after teaching at kyoto for just a few months until you couldn’t stand gakuganji and headed right back to your alma mater.

it wasn’t difficult to maintain the dynamic the three of you had from your school days, except maybe unspoken feelings and lingering glances until the two men were gassing each other up to ask you.

you’re not even sure how you even got roped in — old feelings, a crave for the younger days, the allure of satoru, the wonder of suguru — but now you’re stick in between both of them wanting to pee so badly.

alas, your body is trapped under gojo’s protective leg and geto’s gentler wrapped arm, but you still feel your bladder about to burst, trying one last time until your body is slammed back into bed.

“hm . . what’re you doing?” is gojo’s first raspy call out to you as he curls his calf around you even more, and you sigh, turning to him to brush his fringe from his face.

“i need to pee, satoru.”

“no.” and you roll your eyes because he’s always whiny like that and you’d usually employ suguru to do your bidding but he’s fast asleep, still. this was another thing: both you and gojo have inextricably fucked with his routine because now he’s more inclined to sleep in than drink his morning tea. he realised this one day when he was doing laundry, in the afternoon.

“’toru, pleeaasee?” you pout even if he can’t see and like a good boyfriend, he senses your features pulled into a face specifically meant to make him feel bad, and cracks his eyes open.

“oh, youuuu—” gojo scrunches up his eyes and squeezes, and then steals you from geto’s arm, trapping you with tight arms wound around your middle, “stop it with the eyes!”

you giggle, using your free hands to relax the tightness in his brows, using that opportunity to forcibly open his eyes and then you hit him again — knitted eyebrows and doe eyes, and a perfect pout that has gojo grumbling under his breath. silently, you wiggle yourself just enough to reach his face so you can place a peck on his lips and he hums.

another, his eyes say and you indulge him, sinking into his embrace and letting him guide you back to his mouth. morning breath is nothing to the both of you, grinning into the kiss when satoru loses himself and his embrace starts to loosen. the kiss still holds you captive, though, the other moaning softly when you deepen it with some tongue.

“you’re just going to leave me hangin’?” geto’s voice calls out from beside you, and gojo’s excited suguru! gives you just that sliver of time to slip away from the two as they catch up but—

“you’re not going anywhere, missus,” gojo pulls on your arm and you’re falling back into your space in the middle of the both of them, greeted with geto’s lovely laugh and his gentle gaze.

“good morning my loves,” he says, arm draped over the both of you before he leans down to give you a kiss while gojo replies with a good morning as well, also giving a peck to your temple. “what’s on the agenda today?”

“lazing in—”

“i need to pee, firstly,” you pipe up, cutting gojo off and patting his puffed out cheeks. grabbing his face, you wiggle his head just to emphasise your point, “your man here has been preventing me from going to the bathroom.”

“ahem! our man,” gojo corrects, sticking his tongue out just enough to lick your hand and you shriek in disgust while his giggles only fill the room.

“satoru, c’mon, let her go.” and again, the other only cuddles you closer to him, long, lanky limbs trapping your body. geto has a hand on yours like he’s trying his best to console you.

“but— she’s so much nicer to cuddle! did i ever tell you suguru once hit me in the face with his arm?”

and you laugh while the other only sighs and chaos erupts once he stands up and says in faux disappointment — “okay, i’m making breakfast for myself only. guess i lost two partners today.”

“hello?! i didn’t even do anything!” you shout in incredulity, words muffled once gojo slaps a hand over your mouth and laughs, watching through the bathroom mirror at how he chuckles at the both of you. you lick gojo’s hand and he moans obnoxiously.

geto did end up making the both of you some breakfast after some convincing (it was mostly gojo yelling “pleasepleaseplease” in the bathroom and interrupting brushing teeth time), but he’s got around it with a sloppy kiss given to the both of you, sat at the wooden table you commissioned — large enough to bring friends over but small enough for it to feel intimate with your two boyfriends.

“on the real agenda, we need to go for some grocery shopping,” geto suggests, reaching diagonally to you to wipe off the bits of strawberry lingering at the corner of your lips and gojo shouts a loud oh!, running from the table to grab his phone that he’s left on the bedside table. naturally, he has become so enamoured with the both of you that he doesn’t even need his phone to entertain him that much.

“i made the list like you asked, sugu,” and you’re giggling when you see his eyebrow raise, positive that on the list, there was more of what the house didn’t need than what it did.

silently, you’re helping to clear all three of your plates that had coatings of maple syrup on it, apart from gojo’s who licked his squeaky clean. a smile spreads across your face when you hear them bicker, a common occurrence.

“baby, there’s more candy than actual groceries on here.”

“but suguruuuu . .” gojo pulls this all the time and it hardly works on geto any more, so the both of them invade your cleaning escapades to argue. like the devil on one shoulder and the angel on the other, satoru sucks up to your boyfriend, suguru appeals to you.

“should we listen to him?” leaning against the counter, geto rests his arm around your torso, sidling right up to your face who only gives him a small grin.

gojo follows suit. “sweetness, don’t listen to him. you know you love the sweets i buy, i’ll even buy you your favourite brand!”

here in this kitchen in the house that gojo had no problem expanding to accommodate the both of you were all that you know in this mess of a world, destined to exorcise curses for as long as you live, but it wasn’t so bad when you had the strongest duo beside you, talking over each other on whether meiji chocolate was more important than buying celery for tonight’s dinner. 

“boys.” turning off the tap, you shake off the water and turn around in their arms only to see what had escalated: geto ready to summon a curse, gojo crossing his fingers in his muryōkūsho pose, all the while keeping an arm around you like everything’s fine. and as chaotic dating the both of them were, you don’t mind putting both their hands down and calming the situation down.

with a laugh, you give one kiss to both cheeks. “let’s just buy both, okay?”

and satoru leaps to hug you, planting endless kisses on your face while suguru sighs, then smiles, defeated. “plus, we can just make ’toru pay for everything, can’t we?”

“and then make him cook tonight.” you suggest, not-so-quietly.

gojo stops, “hey!”

i didnt write the grocery shopping part since i alr rambled off about it here but maybe next time we’ll see :)

[lordgrimoire]

A little text ficlet, inspired by Danny being the Wayne’s driver prompt by @stealingyourbones

Danny: What do you mean your in the ruins of Krypton?

Tim: I don’t know man! We’re just, stuck, it’s weird, Connors not doing so hot and while the ship is dead we still have radiation protection for now.

Danny: Give me five, I know a guy.

-Five Minutes Later-

(Knock knock)

???: Pizza Time!

Tim: who?

???: Howdy! Danny said y’all needed a ride? I’m Johnny, was hangin around here since I’m helping figure out Krypton’s scattered ghost problem.

Tim: (opens door camera to see a scraggly blonde teen leaning on a motorbike floating next to the ship) uuuuh.

Johnny 13: Sup! Want me to hook up to the front or back tow ya? It’ll take a few hours to get back to earth.

Tim: The front please, is there a way for us to talk to you without you having to shout?

Johnny 13: Yup! Danny should have sent you my number, I’ll hook ya into my helmet.

(Johnny 13 would be tasked with teaching inter dimensional and long term travel tactics at League seminars for the next two months, he was allowed to break all of Gotham’s traffic laws once a piece.)

[banj0possum]

Can we get a zombie horde with a gn! Reader where their abusive family finds them again?

after years of inactivity im fucking back ! sorry for the long long wait but at least im able to put out a few more fics !

Zombie Horde!Reader's Abusive Family Finds Them Again

CW: verbal abuse, abusive family, (mentioned) being rejected food

💀 You haven't always been alone in your travels, in fact, you were with your family when the outbreak happened. But to be fair, you never liked your family..

💀 They would always bully you, boss you around, even put the blame on you whenever something bad happened, the torment didn't end even when there were zombies banging on your doors!

💀 In fact, because of the virus, they got even more cruel to you.

💀 They would take away your food rations for any small mistake you did, make you take the night watch for days on end, even send you out to get supplies just because 'you talked back that one time'!

💀 You couldn't take it anymore and left, knowing anywhere would be better than being stuck in a house of people who did nothing but torture you.

💀 You thought you were safe from them, cuddled up with Ribs in your bed as the others wandered around the abandoned mall, but it all came back when you heard a familiar voice shout out your name from the distance..

💀 "(Y/N)?! I know you're here you runt!"

💀 It was your dad...

💀 Ribs sat up as soon as he heard it and snarled, crawling out of bed and going out to see the commotion.

💀 Your heart raced as you followed him, but it was hard to walk with your body trembling at the thought of seeing him or any of your family again.

💀 "Jesus there's four of them!" "What are you waiting for you stupid bitch?! Shoot em!"

💀 It seems your mom was also there..

💀 You run the broken escalator and see the horde fighting with your family, gunshots ring throughout the mall as you see your beloveds blasted with bullets.

💀 You weren't scared though, they were dead after all, but it was still heartbreaking seeing them get hurt.

💀 You pick up a nearby rock and throw it at your dad to get his attention away from the boys. They all look at you, your family glaring at you while the horde coos at your presence.

💀 "(Y/N) you come here right this fucking second we're coming home!" Your mother shouts at you, walking over angrily and grabbing your arm strong enough to leave a red ring.

💀 Bo fumes and pulls her of you "You stay away from my mate ya hear me?!" he growls.

💀 "It talks?!" She yelps as your dad comes over as well. "Mate? Don't tell me you're hangin out with these monsters! Are you that much of a dumbass?!" he scolds you.

💀 You shrink, knowing whatever you say will make things worse..

💀 "Why you little whore.." Your dad growls, about to slap you, but Screw runs over and pushes your dad away, sending him back a few feet.

💀 Ribs and Soda smile and clap as Bo and Screw help you up.

💀 "You ok darlin?" Bo asks you in a sweet tone. "Is your arm ok? Does is hurt? Do you need a bandaid? I have a pink one with a cat on it.." Screw looks at the mark your mother gave you.

💀 You smile and assure them everything's ok.

💀 "Fucking freaks..(Y/N) do you hear me?! Get your ass up and let's go!" Your dad yells at you again as he stand up.

💀 "They're not going anywhere mean guy!" Ribs growls at him.

💀 Your mom is to the side next to Soda, she sneers at him and he looks back at her, giving her the middle finger, making her scoff and look away.

💀 In a shaky tone, you ask how they found you. You've cut off contact with them for months, there was no way they could find you..

💀 "Hah! Your dumbass thought you were just some person in the middle of nowhere? Half the state knows about your little talkin freak boyfriends!"

💀 You look down in shame as Bo and Screw comfort you "I think it's about time you folks leave..." Bo says, glaring at your parents.

💀 "Oh no you're not kicking us out! We came all this way to get this ungrateful little leech back! We gave them shelter and this is how they repay us?! You should've learned your place and stayed put!" he berates you. You finally snap and yell back at him, telling him all the things you've endured in their household, how you were treated like dirt every day, how you were much better off without them.

💀 Finally you firmly tell them to leave, pointing to the exit as you look at him with no fear left in your eyes. He scoffs "Fine..go get killed on your own then! Don't come to us for any fucking help!" he yells as he leaves, your mom in tow.

💀 Ribs laughs at them as they leave while Soda smiles at you.

💀 After the whole interaction, you were completely exhausted, the boys huddling up with you to calm you down.

💀 You give them all well-deserved kisses for protecting you, they all coo and chirp at the affection and kiss you back.

💀 "Do you still want that bandaid?" Screw asks you softly.

💀 You say yes.

this one was pretty short but expect more fics to be sent soon ! love you guys and remember that youre awesome and amazing !

[grippingbeskar]

two is hardly a crowd

— john price x fem!reader

— warnings: explicit content minors dni (age gap, mxf, dirty talk) swearing, mention of death and injury

— a/n: i’m so in love with this man. oh my god.

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” You say through the door, knocking a few times.

“Come in.” He calls back, and you try to still your hand as it reaches for the doorknob. Every time he calls for you, you can’t predict what will happen. Some times he’s all work no play, giving you assignments like he does the rest of the 141 with a straight face and serious look in his eyes.

Other times, it’s… less business, more pleasure. He smiles more, offers you a drink. Jokes with you. Flirts… you think, but you weren’t entirely sure Price meant it. You don’t have the most experience with this kind of thing, but he certainly isn’t having those kinds of meetings with Soap or Ghost. He doesn’t compliment them at all, let alone sweet talk them like he does to you. It’s only really when you’re between missions, and almost always when everyone else has gone out for the night or gone off base. He knows you don’t leave even on off days— Price is observant, and the only other one who stays, too.

Swallowing, you push the door open. You know everyone’s gone home this break— Gaz just left last night, and he was only here this long because he couldn’t get a flight out. Now, you knew it was just you and the Captain. It made you as nervous as it did excited, considering the embarrassing crush you were nursing for him.

“I really hope you aren’t telling me I have to spend the year locked up in the cockpit of a jet.” Taking a seat in front of him, you watch the curl of his mouth form around a lit cigar. He leans back, and your eyes are drawn to the stark lack of papers or files open on his desk. All of them are stacked in piles. All closed cases.

“Nothin’ like that, don’t worry.” You watch him closely as he pours himself a glass of scotch. Then, he pushes the full one towards you. “How you holdin’ up?”

“Fine.” You reply, trying not to think too hard about the last few weeks. It was rough— all your missions are, but the burn of the scotch now going down your throat and the undivided attention from Price makes it a bit easier to forget. “Starting to understand why you all drink so much, though.”

“You did well out there, not that you need me tellin’ you.” He looks at you under the brim of his hat, still sandy from the return. You wonder if he ever washes that thing, or if he’s superstitious, like it’ll wash the luck off or something. “All the boys were impressed. So was I.”

“Thank you, Captain.” You try to hide the obvious heat that spreads to your body, nearly making you squint. Of course it was good to be recognised, but hearing it from him. ‘So was I’. You impressed him. “Is— was there something you needed me to do?”

“Just hate to think of you wastin’ your off time in the barracks. I’m not takin’ the jet, so I was gonna offer it to you. Get out of here for a bit, see your family.” The sentiment was sweet, and the idea that he was thinking of you nearly overshadowed his offer.

“I appreciate it, but I don’t… see my family. Besides, I’m not a big fan of flying. I like to avoid it, when I can.” The fact you’d just spent almost a month flying between bases and never said a thing makes Price lean forward, eyebrows raised. It was a stupid fear to have, but it was there nonetheless.

“Take a car, then. Go see— something. Anything.” His forearms were on the table, leaning toward you. His shoulders are slumped slightly, about as relaxed as he gets.

“You trying to get rid of me, Captain?” He laughs dryly, taking the cigar out of his mouth again to finish off his drink. You follow him, needing the liquid courage.

“Course not, love. You just shouldn’t be hangin’ around here at your age. Let us old guys sit and rot, but you— go live a little.” Almost choking on your drink, you bite down on your bottom lip as you swallow. Love. Love. Fucking hell, you’ve been less tense while staring at the barrel of a shotgun.

“You aren’t that old.” You say meekly, dropping your gaze from his intense one.

“Don’t change the subject.” His voice is dripping with authority, one that simultaneously drops you into line and makes you need to shift on your seat. “Why are you still here?”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” That shuts him up for a second. Your family probably thinks you’re dead— if they know you’re alive, they don’t care enough to check in. Any friends you had drifted away when you became too hard to reach, missing birthdays and never coming home for holidays— always working. Once you joined the 141, they stopped trying completely. You didn’t mind. You only wanted to focus on your job. The next mission. Keeping people safe. These guys were all the family you needed. Plus, Price was here.

It was hard to find a good enough reason to leave him, and the kindness he always showed you was ten times more than you’d get if you really went home. It was more than enough to feed your ridiculous crush on him, too, which you couldn’t figure out if it was a good or a bad thing.

“Ah.” He says after a while, and then fills up your glass. The action mixed with the subtle uncomfortable look on his face, like he’s not sure what to do, makes you laugh out loud. The sound seems to relax him again. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Well, why are you still hanging around base?” You take another sip, the honey flavour of the liquor easing the burning taste. “You’re not afraid of flying too, are you?”

“I think I’ve seen enough of the world by now. Happy where I am.” Before your heartbeat can catch up, he keeps talking. “Besides, the company’s not all bad.”

Your face gets so hot you think you might break out into a sweat. It was definitely one of those kinds of meetings. Your favourite. These kinds of talks with him, where you get to see the man under the title and pressure of the job. Price, as you’ve discovered, is smooth. A gentleman, of course, but such a sweet talker. You only ever see it here, alone with him, but you can never stop thinking about it when it happens.

“If it’s good enough for you, it’s good enough for me.” You say, stumbling straight over his compliment. He makes you so confused— you’re usually straight as a steel blade. Impossible to bend, strong willed and focused. With him… you can’t even think. “But you… you don’t have anyone to go visit? You said you aren’t taking the jet. I’m sure your wife would be missing you.”

“If I had one, I’m sure she’d of left me by now.” You honestly hadn’t been sure if he had family. You had a feeling he did… look at him. There’s no way a man that looks like this, talks the way he does isn’t dodging women left right and centre. “When have people like us got the time for date nights, aye?”

“Soap does it. Gaz. It’s not impossible.” Your glass clanks against the wooden table as you set it down, and Price’s eyes seem to light up a little. “I mean… I’m sure you could find someone if you— if you wanted to.”

“You got me there.” He fakes a little surrender, his hands rising off the table. You almost didn’t realise how close he was until he sets them down again, fingers nearly brushing against your skin. “What makes you so sure?”

“You’re…nice.” He laughs, bringing the cigar back up to his mouth. You watch him intently, smoke curling and fogging in front of his face. Ash drops onto the desk, and his giant hands swipe it away quickly.

“Nice.”

“Mhmm.”

“That all?” Your throat feels dry. He was looking at you so closely. Like he could see through you, right to how fast your heart was beating. Like he could see your thoughts in a cloud above your head, as clear and thick as the smoke in front of him.

“Fishing for compliments, Captain?”

“It’s John.” You suck in a low breath at the sound of his first name. Your eyes nearly flutter shut. “And can you blame me? Pretty girl like you, maybe I could get some ideas since you wanna marry me off so quick.”

It was subtle. So like him, smooth and easy, but it hits you like a freight train. That cross of a line in such a short, stupid little sentence, but he knows he’s made a touch down when you smile and hide your face. You were a soldier, for fucks sake— but he had you blushing and smiling like you were a kid.

“I’m just saying, Ca—John. You are nice. You deserve something like that to go home to.” The sentence wasn’t well thought out, two glasses of scotch going straight to your head, but it was true.

God, how you have thought about being that for him. Let him come back from a long mission, take the stress out of his shoulders and have him really relax. He was always so on all the time, so much pressure running the team. He was fucking good at it too, which was worse for your crush on him. You just wanted to take care of him like he took care of everything for you and the team every single time—

“I think I’ve got all I need right here.” You blink up at him, hands gripping the side of your chair. His head is tilted slightly, a smirk on his face. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, love. Like I said, I’m exactly where I wanna be.”

His voice is low. Lower than before. Maybe you’re just drunk, but his eyes seem a little darker, too.

“On base with me, eating leftovers? Sounds like a real fun t—“

“Yeah. I want to be here with you.” You don’t take a breath for a good five seconds. Just let the confession hang in the air. It’s thick, full of smoke and tension, and the burn across your face is either from embarrassment or pure need.

He wanted to be here, alone, with you. Until now it was easy to sign all these passing comments and looks off to pure coincidence. Maybe even a lack of options, being one of the only straight females on base. But with the way he was looking at you now, it was anything but.

“Are you messing with me?” Your eyes nearly shut completely, suddenly feeling the warmth of his hand on yours. His covers you completely, thumb tracing along your knuckles. They’re still blue and green from the fading bruises of the last mission, and he pays extra care not to press to hard.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His eyes stay on your touching hands, the rough pads of his fingers drawing aimless lines on your skin. “I’m patient, but I’m only a man. Only so much time I can wait before I blow myself to bits keeping this to myself.”

“Keeping what to yourself ?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper.

“I’m your Captain.” He says like it’s a confession, and your heart is beating so fast he can probably hear it with those trained ears.

“I know that.” He makes a noise like he’s in pain, going to pull away, but you’re faster and catch his arm. “Tell me anyway.”

“It’s… you mean something to me. A lot. More than I can chalk up to just admiration. I want to take you out.” He says, his voice trained, like he’s using every ounce of bravery he’s got to get the words out. Only then does he finally look up at you, his pupils nearly overtaking his eyes. “I want to see you outside this place. I don’t wanna be looking over my shoulder every three seconds makin’ sure no one’s watching the way I’m staring at you. You’re in my head. Can’t get you out of it. I want to do this the real way. The right way.”

“I—“

“But if you don’t feel the same, you’ll never have to hear it again. Trust me. I’ll learn to live with it. I— it’d just kill me if I never asked.” He runs over your sentence, then leans back, taking a few puffs of the cigar like a reflex.

“You really aren’t messing with me?” Your hands were reaching out instinctively, missing his touch, as fleeting as it was.

“No, love. Just been working up the courage.” You were grinning like an idiot at his expression. The composed face of your Captain had folded in on itself, now replaced by the man you knew was underneath— admittedly a little more nervous than you were familiar with. “Is that… do you—“

“Oh! Yes. Yeah— fuck yes. I’d really like that.” Nodding rapidly, his head hangs back and he sighs a little in relief. Adjusting his hat, he watches you smile at him, fondness dancing in his eyes.

“Guess I wasn’t the only one thinking about it?” He asks, tilting his head.

“Nah. The foods just really shitty on base. I’d do anything for a good meal.”

“Ah. Of course.” He squints, smirking as you laugh. He takes another drag of the cigar, and you watch his mouth intensely— letting your eyes linger with the safety of his confession. “Well, can’t deny a pretty face like yours, can I?”

“In that case, I haven’t eaten since this morning.” You say, the words fumbling out of your mouth before you have a chance to reign them in.

“It’s nine o’clock, Private.” He chides, the tone of his voice making you squirm in your seat. “You wanna go now?”

“You’ve been patient enough, haven’t you?” Your leg bounces with all the extra energy you suddenly have, mind wiring with thoughts of where he would take you. He stands up, and you follow him, pushing your chair back as he clears the distance around the table in two steps.

Those giant black boots, ones he still hasn’t changed out of since coming back. They were tracking dirt and mud all over the hard wood floor, and you had a feeling he’s never had anyone tell him to take his shoes off before he came inside. Probably why he wears his camouflage jacket everywhere, too. You hate to imagine the state of his real place, wherever that may be. He keeps walking towards the door, unlocking it and nodding towards you.

“Come on, then. Better move if you want anything other than pizza.” He smirks, and you really could walk out the door. You could, and make him take you out to a nice dinner. He’d be sweet, and you know you’d probably ask him a thousand questions that he would answer without skipping a beat. And you want that— you do. You’d thought about it more times than you’d admit out loud. You’d get there.

But right now, you had too much adrenaline. It was like being on a mission— heart racing, antsy to just jump in with both feet and not look back. There was something about living the life you did that made you not want to wait for anything anymore. Now, you had been so, so patient with Price, because you had to be. But now it was right there in front of you, standing at the open door.

A kick in your step sends you right up to the door, your hand slowly pushing against his grip on it. It’s squeaky and obvious what you’re doing— and his eyebrows raise higher and higher, eyes flicking down to you when the lock clicks shut.

“Not hungry?” He rasps, taking a step closer to you. His hand drops from the door, settling gently on your hip.

“I have something else in mind.” Your hands fist in his jacket and you yank him forward, feeling his hand on your neck as you finally kiss him.

He doesn’t rush, taking his time to feel your mouth against his. Once he realises you don’t want to let him go, he drags his hand up your face, along your cheekbone, thumb tracing along your skin lightly. You push yourself up on your toes, wanting to be closer.

He grabs you a little harder, and you moan into his mouth when his hand tangles in your hair. He uses it as leverage, nearly pulling you off the ground. He’s wrapped his arm around your waist, and the warmth of his body against yours has you pulling on the hair that hangs out of his hat. He’s the one to make a sound now, letting out a low groan when you fist your hands and tug.

He tastes like expensive cigars and scotch, his mouth burning it’s way into your memory. Every time you look at him from now on all you’ll be able to think of is how he tastes, and how easily he’s taken over you. He towers over you, and with one hand still around your waist, the other tucks your hair behind your ear, a hint of something softer despite the neediness of both your movements. You hate it like that, always thinking you look off balance. It’s why you have your head shoved in a hat most days, but he seems to like it. He walks you backwards, away from the door, picking you up with a strong forearm under your ass until you feel your calves hit the hard wood of his desk. He presses close, only leaving your lips for a second to kiss along your jaw. When you whine and tug on his hair, he comes back up, and you can feel him smiling through it.

When you need to take a breath, reluctantly you lean back, eyes fluttering open when you feel his forehead press to yours. His hands cup your face, enveloping you in the feeling of him everywhere. The shadow of his body blocks out all the light in the room except for him, tunnel visioning him into focus.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You say before you can think, almost like some kind of trance had overtaken you. Price laughs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip lightly.

“Is that right?” You nod once, and he leans closer, his mouth lightly pressing its way along your neck. You squirm in his touch, needing more, but he only gets further away. “You have no idea how many times I thought about walkin’ down to your room and begging you to put me out of my misery.”

“Fuck, Price.” You tug him closer by the ends of his jacket, smiling when you feel his hands fall to your waist and his head pull back. “You should of. It’s so lonely in there.”

“Don’t play games with me.” He says lowly while you bat your eyes up at him, that authoritative tone rumbling through every word. “Your tuggin’ on my last string of control with that look.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll finally snap.” He groans, kissing you lightly.

“I should do this right. Take you out. Buy you flowers and dinner.” His hands begin to wander again, getting a little more daring, opposing the words he’s trying to talk himself out of. “You deserve it.”

“You could just propose, skip the twenty steps and get a ring.” He smiles again, finally, and even if it’s controlled and Captain like, it’s a smile. “Heard you army boys like to settle down pretty fast, anyways. That what you want?”

“Fucking hell. You really are trying to marry me off.” You shrug, and something much more intense is in his eyes now. It makes you tick into a higher gear, cogs turning faster and faster. “Can I kiss you again?”

Instead of answering, you bring both hands on either side of his face and yank him to you, moulding your mouth to his. It’s desperate, one lonley hand seeking another as he puts his palm over yours, then moves you seamlessly. You mould for him, standing as he hurls you up and into his arms, keeping your legs wrapped around his waist tight even when you feel the hard wood of the table under your thighs. He reaches behind you, one hand on your lower back rolling your hips towards him, the other now revealing his half finished cigar.

You want to roll your eyes, but he’s too overwhelming to think about anything else. The way he smells— smoke and old spice filling your senses. You can’t get enough of it, your arms wrapping around his neck, fingertips tracing up his neck. For a second you hesitate, feeling the material of his hat against your knuckles, but the slightest touch of your hand in his hair makes him groan into your mouth, and you throw all caution to the wind.

He kisses you a little rougher now. Keeping you still with one strong arm around your waist, he’s slowly uncoiling, strand by strenuous strand. His other hand is still occupied with his cigar, and you can’t figure out why he’s holding onto it right now until you hear something crash and hit the floor behind you.

“Jesus, Price.” You sigh into him, only opening your eyes for a second to see he’s shoved everything on his desk to the floor— ashtray shattered in pieces under your feet. Didn’t want to waste his damn cigar, but the countless files on his desk weren’t important enough to him.

He pulls back, your lips chasing him even though your lightheaded from a lack of oxygen. You open your eyes again, your arms still wrapped right around the back of his neck, and your head drops to the giant mess on the floor. Cigar still secured in his fingertips, both of his hands cup your face, forcing you to look at him. You’ve never seen him unwound. He’s your Captain— a man of control, someone who’s always three steps ahead of the enemy. But here, breathing hard and standing between your open legs, he looks fucking wild. His eyes are half shut, and he’s smiling like a fool, the sight making you feel even warmer with him this close to you.

“You are something else.” He murmurs against your mouth, making you smile.

“And you’re a fucking tease.” You kiss him again, and he nearly whines in his own protest as he pulls back. “John.”

“I know, love. I’ll take care of you.” He steps away a little, one hand dropping to the edge of the table. “Mind holding onto this f’me?”

He brings his other one up, the end of the cigar appearing in front of you. Instead of handing it to you, his thumb drags down against your lip, your mouth opening for him on the silent command. Dark eyes watching your every move, he puts the end of the cigar in your mouth, watching you take in the familiar taste of it. Of him. It sends a buzz through your veins now, the alcohol and feeling of him overloading your body. He lets his hand slip to your jaw, smirking at the way your teeth nearly bite into the end. Then, the asshole winks at you, and you almost choke on the smoke burning through your chest.

“There’s a good girl. Stay nice and still, yeah?” He presses a quick kiss on your cheek, watching as you nod slowly. Mesmerised. It’s taken about five minutes and a few well chosen words for one of his best soldiers to become a puddle in front of him. You knew it was a little embarrassing how quickly you lost your nerve with him, but he didn’t have to look so smug about it.

Just as you think you’ve recovered, he drops his hands, still staring at you as he expertly undoes your military pants. He doesn’t even have to look down, just watches how your eyes close, head falling back as he yanks them down your legs and his fingers hook into the fabric of your underwear.

You almost forget the cigar completely, moaning around the end of it as you feel him draw closer. The rough pads of his fingertips, hardened from years on the force, are gentle and soothing against the sensitive skin, and he plays with the seams sitting around where you are clearly edging him towards.

He’s not watching you anymore. No, now his eyes are occupied with the sight in front of him, just below your face. How your back is arched towards him, enticing him to move a little faster. Your legs spreading across his table, knuckles white as they grip the edge in anticipation. Then, there’s your fucking underwear. Price spits out a few curse words, then rips them away, tucking them into the pocket of his own pants.

“You wear that just to drive me insane?” His hands splay on your thighs, rising higher and higher. You hum around the cigar that’s growing heavier in your mouth. “That what you wear all the time? Pink and lace shit under all that gear?”

“Just hopin’ you’d take it off and find out.” You mumble, only half coherent with your mouth full. The comment seems to undo something in him, and his restraint frays as you finally, finally feel two of his fingers dragging slow, steady circles on your clit.

You crumble forward, hips shifting to seek out something a little faster, but his free hand holds you down. He kisses along your neck, down to his collarbone while setting you alight with his soft moving hands. As he dips just below there, in a place he knows will be hidden in your uniform, he spends time there. He listens to the little noises you make, how you say his name like it’s the only word you know. He fucking knows he has you right there— and he hasn’t even taken off his shirt.

“You are so gorgeous, baby. You know that?” His mouth is so hot and his fucking hands— they were playing you like a violin. Plucking all the right strings, a melody of pleasure played out of your mouth, interrupting his ramble. “Never gonna be able to keep my hands off you. Not when I know how sweet you sound.”

“Hmph.” You groan around the butt of the cigar, and he grins a little mockingly, cooing as he takes the cigar from your nearly open mouth.

“There you go, did real good for me. Need to hear you louder though, princess.”

“Please, Price.” Your hips buck, and his fingers dip lower, teasing.

“You ask me, it’s yours.” He whispers, then bends down to press one long, bruising kiss to your lips, one you take greedily.

“I need you.” He kisses you, humming low into your mouth, then you feel one of his strong fingers curl inside of you. “Ohh— fuck.”

“You’re alright darlin’. That’s it.” He whispers in your ear, and your mind focuses only on the sweet adoring touches of his free and and his mouth and the coil tightening low in your stomach.

Everything is only him— the roughness of his hands subsided by the gentle graze of their touch, exploring all the parts of you he’s telling you he’s dreamed about. His other hand, finding the places that make you scream the loudest, never letting up as your eyes roll backwards into your skull. His mouth— god, that fucking mouth. The way he’s talking to you, telling you all the ways he’s imagined you spread out for him, how long he wants to take with you, how hard he is for you, only you.

Your hands reach towards him, sliding down his toned chest, along the lines of his jacket until you blindly caught on the waistband of his jeans. You could feel yourself slipping into that blissful heat low in your stomach, but you wanted him to fall with you. As much as he was talking, you were just as desperate to get your hands on him, even if you couldn’t articulate words right now.

“You don’t ha—fucking hell.” He growls, kissing you harshly as your hands slip into his pants and palm him through his boxers. “I’m not gonna last. You’re fucking me up real good, princess.”

“J-Just let me make you feel good, too.” You blink your eyes open, pleasure skittering up your spine. He pumps his fingers inside of you faster, skilled in a way your brain can’t compare to anything else. The rough skin of his palm drags across your clit with every move, sending your hips into a roll in search of more— greedily chasing whatever he’d give you.

When you finally feel him, hot and heavy in your hand under his boxers, you can feel he wasn’t lying. He’s a fucking mess— a choked moan shocking through him as your thumb gently swipes across his tip. When you pull away he looks up from where his head dropped on your shoulder, eyes only half open to watch you spit in your hand, and then return to wrap your fingers around him, pumping him slowly.

“Ohh, fuck. That’s good. Fuck, that’s so good.” He praises, hot breath kissing your neck and collarbone. You could tell he liked to talk, but it wasn’t even the words he was saying that was sending you spiralling helplessly anymore. It was the noises.

Desperate, nearly whining as you tighten your grip, matching the pace of his two, strong fingers curling inside you. You felt boneless— foreheads pressed together as you watched each other fall apart from just the others hands. You weren’t much better, high pitched, girlish sounds that had nothing of the trained solider in them. Just a girl, spread out on her Captains desk, exactly where she wants to be.

“So tight, baby. Can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” You hum, closing your eyes and imagining it. If he felt this thick in your hands, you couldn’t imagine how he’d feel in— “Gonna take you out to a nice dinner and then bring you home, fuck you in a real bed. Fuck… you think about this too?”

“A-all the— fuck, right there— all the time.” You manage, vision beginning to blur. “I’m so close, Price. Please.”

“Give it to me. Wanna feel how wet you get after you cum for me.” He groans. He switches so fast— low, heavy voice interrupted by slightly higher moans and a gasp. He’s so hard to keep up with, it melts your brain down to only the simplest of instructions. “Cum for me.”

You lose conscious control of your hand, only knowing to keep holding him like that as his hips buck, fucking into your palm. Pleasure takes over— zapping and skittering through your body, making your legs shake. His breathing gets faster, stuttered little gasps coming from him as he guides you through your orgasm, hand slowing to a soothing rhythm.

There was none of that softness for himself, though. No— he was nothing but hard and fast, using your hip as leverage to drag his length along the wet hold of your hand. The table creaks under his strength, and you wrap your free hard around his neck again to hold on tight, needing to see him through it.

“So. Fucking. Pretty.” He growls, and then covers your hand in warmth as he cums to the sight of you. His jaw is hanging open and you take the opportunity, kissing him desperately. He responds even with the pleasure clouding his thoughts, all tongue and teeth and feral sounds as his hips slowly still in your hand.

Both of you are reluctant to let go of each other, but you seemingly find yourselves at the same time as you both flinch at the touch of the other. You take your hand back first, sliding up along the lower contours of his abs. You’ve been obsessed with that part of him for so long, it’s nearly surreal to have it under your hand.

“You… Jesus Christ.” He breathes deep, his head falling to the crook of your neck. He kisses you affectionately, taking slow inhales like the taste of your skin will bring the oxygen back to his lungs. “That’s not what I thought this meeting was going to go like.”

“Funny.” You say softly, still searching for your voice. “It’s exactly what I had planned.”

He sits up at that, and you catch the look of him believing you— just for a second before he shakes his head, smirking.

“Alright, smart ass.” You laugh, tugging him to stand closer between your spread legs. “You okay?”

“Never better.” He kisses you softly again.

“You gonna let me take you out? Do this the proper way?” His hands hold your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the skin. “Cause I meant it when I said I’m not keeping my hands off you now. I’m a man of my word.”

“Pizza is fine with me.” You smile, and he picks you up off the desk, but not before sneaking one lazy kiss while you’re up in his arms.

Pizza would be fine every night, you think as you quickly pull your pants back on and follow him out the door, still seeing the light pink fabric of your underwear sticking out his back pocket.

[lowkeyrobin]

Hi sorry if im annoying u but can u do a james hook x reader story . I kenda want the reder to be the dugther of peter pan and hook fell in love whit her.

no need to worry! you're totally fine haha ; but yeah of course I could! ; I decided to make the reader a kind of relative to Peter (sibling/cousin at least) cause age differences and whatnot, even though Peter stays a kid forever, I still didn't wanna do smthn weird lolll but dw I got you ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; also I only write they/them / gn readers but I tried to keep readers gender identity pretty in the middle and stuff so

JAMES HOOK ; star crossed lovers

summary ; you and hook fall for each other, your love forbidden as he was a vk, and you were an ak

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader can fly & uses pixie dust like peter pan

word count ; 1.1k

masterlist

Hook's eyes land on you from afar, watching as you sprinkle pixie dust upon Bridget and Ella. They had been begging you to let them try out flying, and you'd finally given in halfway through today.

He peers past the concrete wall into the courtyard, watching you three fly about, or really, watch you try to help your friends learn how to fly how you do. You giggle, bouncing back as you practically swim in air, watching them struggle to control themselves. It wasn't as easy as it looked.

"Whoever can fly to class faster wins!" Bridget laughs, looking over at Ella.

"Oh, you're on!" She smiles, dashing toward the nearest doors as fast as she could, attempting to beat Bridget.

Bridget was definitely better at the flight thing, but Ella had speed. You'd have to check in with them later, considering your class was in the opposite direction.

Hook, seeing you were now alone, casually walks toward you, having popped out of nowhere as you watch Ella and Bridget soar past the windows and eventually disappear. He tilts his head as he looks up at you, trying to read you somehow, from behind. You turn around, jumping back in slight fear and surprise.

"Uhm, hello!-" You awkwardly smile, floating a above the ground, making yourself a foot taller than him. You recognize him, knowing he's a VK.

"What's with the eh-" He looks you up and down, "Floaty thing?"

You glance around and shrug. "I dunno. Just kinda... born like that"

He nods, posing no threat. "Cool"

You subtly raise an eyebrow. "You think?"

"Yeah," He chuckles. "Got any more of that fairy dust?" He asks, referring to the magical golden dust that enchanted its victims with flight.

"Pixie dust," you correct. "But, yeah. Why?"

"You do flying classes?" He asks, a soft expression on his face, one of curiosity, craving adventure.

Your cautious expression quickly fades to one of happiness, a smile curling the corners of your lips up. "For you, I guess"

He smiles, watching as you dig into your pocket and sprinkle him in the glittering gold powder. His feet slowly depart from the floor, his arms quickly reaching out to you in fear.

You jump back to avoid his hooked hand, but realized that this was more like teaching a kid how to ride a bike rather than he wanted to hurt you. You reach for his in-tact hand, pulling him closer to you, laughter escaping your lips as he front flips a few times.

"This isn't funny!"

"Yeah, it is!"

He clings onto you, not liking gravity not pulling him down to the ground.

"What're you so scared for?" You chuckle as you question him. "You a pussy?"

"No!" He quickly pushes away from you, needing to keep his tough guy VK coat on in front of you, reminding himself that you weren't one of his friends. "It's very hard to keep balance!" He exclaims as he falls backward to hang upside down. He flails his arms, returning right side up.

"What's your name?" You ask, stifling a laugh as you watch.

"Hook. James Hook"

"Cause the hook, I'm guessing?"

It'd been a few days since you'd last seen James Hook, your mind constantly trying to find an answer to why he wanted to try the pixie dust and why he spent nearly an hour hanging out with you to try and learn to fly. Maybe he was forming some sort of plan. Maybe you shouldn't speak to him again, maybe he was bad just like the other VKs. Maybe you should stop trusting everyone-

"Hey Y/n," James smiles, appearing from behind you, hand quickly jumping to your shoulder.

You jump, looking back at him as you sit under a tree in the front yard of Merlin's Academy.

"Hey, Hook" You answer, looking back down at your textbook.

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at your spell casting book. "You can call me James"

"Hey, James," you repeat, correcting yourself. "What's up?"

He shrugs. "I was going to ask you that"

He slides down the tree, sitting next to you. "I saw your little stunt earlier in the library." he smiles. "You're a trickster, hm?"

You lightly smile. "Yeah."

"Little sprinkle of that dust and watching people try to fly is amusing, isn't it?"

"Yeah, kinda. Especially when it's assholes" You reply, referring to his VK friends.

He chuckles. "It was funny, really. I like you, you have a sense of humor."

"Y'know," You speak, looking up at him. "My shadow is it's own being, it spies"

He raises an eyebrow. You glance back at the tree you rest your back upon, showing him your shadow standing above you, hands on their hips. He jumps for a moment, looking back at you.

"I don't lie, James" You shrug, watching as the shadow attempts to push you two together. You roll your eyes. "They want us to kiss"

James glances between you and the shadow, face growing red. "I mean, a lot of people call me James-"

"It's not about that." You sigh. "Little mischievous bitch thought you falling into my arms the other day was 'adorable'. You have a crush on me or something, apparently, according to them"

He blinks and shrugs. "I mean, they're not totally wrong." He smiles awkwardly wide, looking for validation. He breaks, disturbed by your silence. "I'd love to be friends with you, at least. You're very intriguing and humorous, and-"

You quickly cut him off. "What? We can't, we can't be friends. You're a VK"

His expression quickly falters as he realizes the predicament.

"But... I shouldn't deny that I feel the same way about you"

He blinks, confused and slightly caught off gaurd. "What are you getting at here?"

"We're star-crossed lovers." You speak dramatically. "We can't be together, yet there's something pulling us together. Even if it's just a silly little crush or infatuation"

He nods. "Can we at least be friends? I promise you, love, I'm not as evil as it seems."

Yeah, friends was an awful word to use when describing you and the infamous James Hook.

Someone call up Anne Marie...

Over the course of the next few months, you and Hook had become true star-crossed lovers like Romeo and Juliet, bound by love, separated by fate. The constellations aligned but the stars between you and James never did.

You wondered why you had to be separated by social norms, why you couldn't be with him because he was a villain. If James was a villain, then you were too for your pranks, there was nothing fair about it.

Even though you'd sucked yourself into a little world of your own, he was there by your side, loving your lips behind closed doors and confined spaces so you wouldn't be caught. God, no one would ever forget it if they found out. A VK and an AK together? The world might as well have ended.

You fly through the forest with James, his fingers tangled in yours as you swiftly pull him along.

"Y/n, slow down!"

"I'm not even going fast, you're going slow!"

[auras-moonstone]

Hi! Can I request one with non gf Ethan, he and reader are dating and it's his birthday and maybe his family never made a big deal about it but reader goes all out, she hangs balloons on his dorm, gets him a cake and some presents maybe she skipped classes that day so he hasn't seen her and then Ethan goes to his room and sees everything and it's all cute and fluffy cause y'know it's Ethan he'd probably cry

birthday themed cause… today’s my birthday yayy !

big cake, happy birthday — ethan landry

word count: 1.1k

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: knowing that his boyfriend never had the birthdays he deserved, y/n makes a surprise party for ethan.

contents: family neglect? new-found family. y/n being a bit too much. emotional ethan. chaotic group dynamic.

y/n was on a mission to make this the best birthday ethan has ever had. she wanted everything to be perfect, and she ordered her friends around to make sure it turned out that way. to put it mildly, y/n was not the group’s favorite person that day.

“y/n i swear to fucking god if you yell at me one more time.” tara said annoyed.

the frustrated girlfriend sighed and took deep breaths. “you’re right. i’m sorry, guys. i just… they never cared, you know. it was never about him, not even on his birthday. i want to make sure that changes from now on. i want him to know how special and loved he is. i want this to be flawless.”

the group exchanged glances. chad nearly cried. “it’s okay.” tara said softly. “you’re a great girlfriend, y/n/n. a great person.”

“thanks.” she smiled. “but it still wasn’t okay of me to yell and get so bossy. you guys can go now, i’m going to skip classes. you’ve done more than enough.”

“are you sure?” mindy asked.

y/n nodded. “yeah, i’ll just finish the decorations and make the cake. you distract eth, don’t make him feel alone, okay? spoil him. and no smartass comments towards him today, mindy.”

the girl rolled her eyes and the group headed out. “how did she manage to make us feel guilty for calling her out on her bossy behaviour?” chad asked confused.

“i don’t know, but fuck if that wasn’t the cutest speech i’ve ever heard.” anika said, shaking her head.

ethan really appreciated his friends company, they had made him feel special all day, but he really really really missed his girlfriend. he wanted special attention from her, and he hadn’t seen her in more than twelve hours.

when he noticed she missed her first class, he immediately sent her a text asking what was wrong and she replied saying she had terrible cramps so she was going to skip uni. it put a pout on his face, but he understood and told her he would go to her house later with ice cream and a heating pad.

“so, are you doing anything special?” chad asked him as they made their way to their dorm.

“i’m going to take a shower and then head to y/n’s. we’re having dinner at her house, she’s not feeling well.”

well, no. if this morning was any indication, she was probably having the most stressful of days, thought chad. he hadn’t seen someone care so much about a person like y/n cared about ethan.

when they were one block away, chad subtlety sent y/n a text telling her they were close. the girl’s heart started going wild in nervousness.

“fuck, they’re coming. everyone hide!” y/n yelled.

“we’re right beside you.” mindy muttered under her breath.

“leave her alone.” anika muttered, dragging her girlfriend to the hiding spot.

chad unlocked the front door and let ethan go in first. he turned on the lights and was stunned by shouts of surprise!

the group greeted him with a hug and a happy birthday, and the guy could only mutter low thank you’s, completely overwhelmed with appreciation.

y/n put a birthday hat on him with a joyful smile. “happy birthday, babe. did we surprise you?”

his eyes got glossy, and for a moment, y/n panicked. but then ethan smiled, making a few tears fall. “you all did this for me?” he asked looking around. there were balloons everywhere, warm fairy lights hanging behind a table filled with food and colourful letters sticked to the wall that read happy birthday.

“of course.” y/n said softly, pressing one short kiss on his lips.

“it was mostly y/n, not gonna lie. she has been working on this the whole day.” chad spoke up, wanting her to have the credit she deserved.

“thank you, guys. this is… more than perfect.” ethan went to give every each of them a hug. when he reached y/n, he completely broke down. “i love you so much. thank you. you didn’t have to do all this.”

“i just want you to know how much you mean to us. how much we love you.” she rested her forehead against his. “i’m so lucky to have you in my life. this little party? this is the least i could do to show you how special you are.”

“you make me feel special everyday, y/n/n.” he whispered as she cleaned his tears.

“fuck, the yelling and the mistreatment were totally worth it. this is so wholesome.” chad said looking at his love-sick best friends.

y/n rolled her eyes. “look, just in my defense, you were all being kind of lazy. honestly, i just asked you to hang up the fairy lights and the garlands. you don’t need an hour and a half to do that!”

“but you were a little on edge today.” tara said.

“and insufferable.” mindy added.

“i was not!” y/n frowned.

“you texted us every thirty minutes to ask us how ethan was doing.” mindy retorted.

“can you blame me? i was guilty for not being there the whole day. i didn’t want him to feel sad about it.” she defended herself, hugging her boyfriend tightly.

“she’s making us feel like assholes again.” chad whispered to tara.

ethan laughed. “leave my stressed girlfriend alone.” he kissed her cheek. “i love you even when you’re bossy, on edge and insufferable.”

y/n let out a chuckle and snuggled into his chest. “i love you too.”

“he gives you a back-handed compliment and gets cuddles?” mindy asked offended.

y/n shrugged. “it only matters that he said he loves me.”

“i hate you both.” mindy rolled her eyes, but there was a hint of a smile on her face. even she couldn’t deny they were the cutest couple.

“i love you, guys. this is the best birthday ever.” he said happily.

when it was time to blow the candles, ethan looked around and his heart had never felt warmer—his chosen chaotic family gathered around buzzing with excitement, was there anything else he could wish for? there was only one thing that came to mind: please, never take them away from me.

“group hug!” y/n yelled when the candles were blown, and next thing he knew he was being tackled to the ground. “happy birthday, eth. i love you forever.”

“i love you forever too.” he pecked her lips.

“ew! not with us above you!” sam snickered.

“do you have to be lovey all the damn time?” mindy gagged.

with the love of her life in his arms and the sound of their friends making fun of them and acting annoyed, ethan had never felt happier.

[schemmentis]

Somethin' Stupid - Pt. 3

Part 1 / Part 2

Summary: The end of senior year, graduation, and the beginning of your last summer before college.

WC: 3.9k

Italian-American Translations: Basta - Enough, Madonn' - My god, boombotz - idiots

“I think I’m gonna break up with Joey.” You look up from your notebook where you’ve been writing your valedictorian speech. Melissa had been right; you’d secured that spot in your class. You take a moment to gaze at your best friend sitting across from you at your kitchen table. 

It’s a Friday evening, with only a week of your senior year left. Graduation less than two weeks away. You stare at Melissa, trying to figure out where this is coming from. She hasn’t looked you in the eye since you’ve looked up. She’s biting her lower lip and looking for all the world like she’s looking at one of the last pieces of homework you’ll have to do. At least for high school.

You think maybe it’s nerves. Mel certainly looks nervous. Maybe with college coming up she isn’t sure she and Joey will make it through the life changes of it. Except you know how she feels about Joey. She gets annoyed with him and loves to act like an over exasperated partner that’s been married to him for years. You know she almost never is though, not really. When she is, she tells you. This is the first time she’s mentioned anything about breaking up with him.

“Why?” You finally ask, keeping your eyes on your redhead as she finally meets your eye.

She shrugs, leaning against the table. “He’s still hanging out with Mikey and everything… I don’t think it’s right.”

You sigh, setting down your pen. “Mel,” You start as you reach across the table to grip her hands. “Do you love Joey?”

“Yeah but if he’s going to keep hangin’ out with that asshole—”

You squeeze her hands to get her to stop. “Look at me.” You say softly as she had looked away as she started on the tangent you interrupted. You wait until her green eyes are looking at you once more. “Forget all the shit with Mikey.” You say. “I’m not askin’ about that. I’m askin’ how you feel about Joey. You love him, right?”

“Right.” Melissa answers after a moment keeping herself from going on the tangent again at your request. You know she does. You’ve seen it go from her crush on him early junior year to actual affection once they started dating. To now, it's obvious to anyone with eyes around them how much Mel loves him. She’s sarcastic and pretends to be annoyed but she can’t hide the way she looks at him or doesn’t hesitate to do anything he needs. 

“And you wanna be with him? Probably marry him, whenever he gets the nerve to propose, right?” You ask, despite a small ache in your ribs. You blame it on leaning over the table and the wood pressing into them. It isn’t a secret. It hasn’t been since Melissa and Joey’s relationship got serious after they’d been together a year. You imagine it won’t be right away that Joey will propose. Maybe a couple years into college but you know it’s coming. Just like you know Mel’s answer. 

Another long drawn out moment before Mel is nodding across from you. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then you don’t wanna break up with him and you’re just gonna make yourself miserable.” You say, squeezing her hands one more time before you draw them away with a shrug. “The Mikey stuff?” You sigh as you reclaim your pen. “It sucks, yeah. But whatever. Joey was never really my friend, y’know? We got to know each other because you spend time with both of us. It’s not worth breaking up with Joey over the fact that he still wants to hang out with Mikey.”

You both have plans for the next few years. You’ve talked about them plenty in the build up to this year, senior year, and over the course of it. You know Mel is going to go into education, being a teacher is what she’s wanted to do since eighth grade. It hasn’t changed since. She’s planning on her own house in Philly as soon as she can. She’s told you about the little garden she can’t wait to have out back. Fresh produce grown right in her backyard. She’s planning on marrying Joey. She hasn’t said anything about kids but that wouldn’t surprise you. Her family is traditionally big and you know as much as Mel complains about them; they’re the most important to her.

That’s Melissa’s five year plan. College to get her teaching degree, teacher’s assistant until she can get her own position. Save for the house and the garden. Marry Joey. Start their life together, whatever it looks like. You know she doesn’t really care if Joey wants kids or doesn’t. What’s important to her is life with Joey. 

Your five year plan? You don’t have one past your career in social work. That much of a plan has always been more than enough for you. College for your bachelor’s. Start working at the entry level for experience while you go for your master’s. You still haven’t decided if afterwards you’ll go for your doctorate or a phd since they do have different applications for them and the jobs available. You figure though that part of it can wait until you get there. 

The relationship part of it? Well, you’ve just never worried about it too much. You always figured it would find you when it was meant to. If it was meant to. And if it didn’t? Well, you kind of figured you’d be alright either way.

“Maybe you’re right.” Melissa says with a huff across from you. The usual sound that accompanies her admitting she isn’t right. “Maybe I don’t wanna break up with Joey but I’m pissed he’s still hanging around with Mikey after what happened.”

You shrug, glancing back up to her. “Like I said, Mel, it’s okay. Joey and I weren’t really friends anyhow.”

“Maybe not but you’re my best friend and his best friend hurt you. If he cares so much about me shouldn’t that extend to you? Hell, even forget all that, it's just basic human decency!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I agree. You know I do, Mel. But…it doesn’t change how you feel about him and you can’t make Joey do somethin’ he doesn’t wanna do. It isn’t…it’s not worth ending everything with him over when you still care about him so much. It ain’t worth making yourself miserable over.”

Suddenly Melissa is out of her chair and rounding the table. Before you can even ask she’s throwing herself into your space with enough force it jostles you as her arms wrap around you tightly. “Just know that nobody messes with my girl and gets away with it. Nobody. I won’t let nobody get away with hurtin’ ya, not while I’m breathin’, kid.”

You blink the tears away from your eyes that are welling. You and Melissa haven’t really talked about what happened since prom. You don’t really want to. It happened and you want to move on from it. With her arms gripping you tightly and her words though, you can’t help the swelling of emotions for your best friend. You shift to wrap your arms around her to match her embrace. “Thank you,” is all you can manage to breathe out.

Melissa doesn’t drop her grip around you for a long, drawn out moment. Her arms squeeze around you to reaffirm her presence. It’s only when she hears the front door open and Kristen Marie’s loud entrance that she slowly pulls away. She kisses the top of your head, a hand squeezing your shoulder before she retreats to the other side of the table.

“‘Sup losers.” Kristen Marie says as she strides into the kitchen just as Melissa sits back down. “Mel, where’s Ma?”

“Do I look like I know?” Melissa says, shooting a glare to her sister. 

“Geez, I was just askin’.” Kristen Marie mutters. She glances at you, smiling. “Hey, Y/N, congrats on being valedictorian.”

Melissa’s glare at her sister only hardens at her brightening once she notices you. This is how it’s played out with the Schemmenti sisters since second grade. They gripe at each other and annoy each other. Kristen Marie purposefully cheery at you whenever she sees you strictly because it gets her sister to glare at her like she currently is.

“Thanks.” You answer with a small shake of your head at the Schemmenti Staredown happening across from you. 

“Okay,” Melissa says a little loudly. “You can go now, Kristen Marie.”

“Hello? I’m having a conversation with Y/N, not you, Melissa Ann. Please have some manners. Ma taught us better, you know.” 

“Oh my god,” Melissa grumbles, getting up again to start shoving her sister out of the kitchen. “Go away, we’re busy. No time for conversations with little sisters, get out.”

In the usual perfect timing of any Schemmenti, their mother arrives just then. Stepping through the side door of the house into the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow, seeing her two daughters that are now in the doorway between kitchen and living room. By now, they’ve slipped into their usual insult trading tirade. It’s rapid fire and littered with Italian you only know from practically living in this house as your second home.

“Hey! Basta, you two!” Somehow, Mrs. Schemmenti manages to be louder than her two daughters. As soon as her voice is filling the kitchen, the two sisters freeze entirely. "Madonn’ you’d think I was raising boombotz ‘round here.”

You amusedly watch the two sisters pull away from each other. Each murmuring something along the lines of ‘sorry, Ma.’ Melissa drops back into her seat across from you as Kristen Marie makes for the stairs to retreat to her room. When she looks at you, she frowns. She glances to ensure her mother won’t see before flipping you off in return for you clearly being amused at her getting in trouble. It only makes you laugh, and for as much as Melissa tries to hold her glare at you; she starts smiling.

The next time you see Melissa is at school, with Joey. They have their arms linked as they pass you at your locker between periods. She yanks on his arm to get him to stop so you can talk about the new underclassmen gossip she’s heard. She makes you promise to sit with them at lunch. You do. Joey doesn’t seem uncomfortable but he does seem…awkward. You pay him little mind, focused instead on enjoying a meal with your best friend between classes. Before Joey leaves for his next period Melissa grasps his wrist, firmly reminding him that it’ll be three of you ditching your last day next week and for your senior week trip after graduation. 

“You don’t need to do that.” You say once you look away from the back of Joey’s football jersey as he leaves the cafeteria.

“Yes, I do.”

You sigh. At least Melissa isn’t playing the game of pretending not to know what you’re talking about. “I told you, it’s okay if you just wanna go with Joey for ditch day and senior week. It’s practically spring break with way more freedom; it’s fine, Mel.”

“I don’t want to go just me and Joey for senior week.” She says with a glare. Her tone has you sitting up a bit more, blinking at the redhead sitting across the table from you.

“He wants it to be just the two of us.” Melissa continues after a moment, her fingers picking at what’s left of her sandwich. Unusual enough that she wouldn’t finish lunch it’s more unusual for her to be nervously picking at the remnants. After a moment her green eyes glance back up at you. Melissa clears her throat, shifting in her seat. “He wants to have our first time at the hotel in Myrtle Beach.”

You blink again, doing your best to fight the rising heat you feel in your cheeks. You can’t tell if it’s embarrassment at the topic or the awkwardness. Or the way Melissa’s clear feeling of discomfort reminds you of Mikey and prom. “You don’t want to.” You practically whisper. It isn’t a question. You can tell.

Melissa nods. “I mean, eventually, of course I do. I just…” She sighs, suddenly seeming frustrated with herself as she brushes her hair away from her face. “I just don’t think I’m ready for that yet.” She finally admits quietly, looking back down at the food she’s picking at. “I mean, imagine if my Ma found out I slept with Joey outta wedlock? She’d have a heart-attack and then if I got pregnant… I love him, Y/N, I do, and I want to be with him like that I just…it doesn’t feel right.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t feel comfortable with, Mel. That you don’t feel right with.”

“If you don’t come with us to South Carolina, I will.” She answers.

You bristle. You reach across the table and grip Melissa’s hands firmly between your own. You meet her gaze with your own readily when she looks back up. “If Joey ever, ever, puts his hands on you when you tell him you don’t want him to; you call me.” You say with every ounce of sincerity.

Melissa blinks at you, her eyes wide in surprise that you would imply defending her. Despite her doing exactly the same with Mikey at prom. “He wouldn’t.” She finally manages to say.

You agree, but you also see the tinge of fear in your best friend's expression. She trusts Joey, but there’s always that little bit of doubt. You both trusted Mikey too. Maybe not as much as Joey but still. You had. Yet he took advantage anyway. “If he ever does, Melissa. You call me.” You repeat as you squeeze her hands lightly.

She nods. “You know you’d be the first one to know.” She finally agrees.

“I’ll come with you on the trip if you would really feel more comfortable.” You say as you finally release her hands.

“You will? Even if Joey will be a little snot about it?”

You scoff. “I can handle Joey being an asshole.” You assure swiftly. “If you want me there, I’m there. Joey will deal with it.”

Melissa smiles, launching into filling you in on all the itinerary she’s been planning out for the trip. By the time you’re both leaving the cafeteria you’re reluctantly agreeing to her plans to take surfing lessons that Joey had vetoed before. 

Before Myrtle Beach and the senior week trip; you have to get through graduation. Which for the most part is easy. The last week of school doesn’t present anything really challenging wise from your classes. Your teachers know there’s little point in testing or quizzing your senior class by now. Though some do still attempt to get you to learn at least slightly in your last week. Others are perfectly content to wheel the television cart into the classroom and put a VHS on for your class to talk over. 

When the actual ceremony comes; you’re more nervous. You have both your mother and Melissa check your stole over your graduation gown as well as the fit of your cap multiple times. As if it wasn’t a process to ensure the correct sizes weeks ago anyhow. Still, you’ll be standing in front of your whole school for your valedictorian speech. Popularity and looks may not have been something you were ever particularly concerned with through the last four years but you’d like to avoid looking like an idiot on that scale still.

When it comes time for your speech; you feel the nerves fall away and settle into your ability to focus on what you feel is important to say. You’d worked hard on your speech; your last farewell to both your school and classmates. It also serves to say the same on behalf of your graduating class. You wanted it to resonate. Falling comfortably into the words you’d written; you aren’t certain if it does or not. You feel like you blink and you’re at the end of the speech.

Once you finish, Melissa is the only one of your graduating class that doesn’t toss her cap in the air. She’s too busy cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting her support for you. She’s still wearing the cap a few minutes later when she all but barrels into you to hug you tight. You return her grip, your smile hurting your face when she tells you how wonderful you’d done up there.

Instead of staying out like plenty of your other new graduate friends do; you go out to dinner with Melissa, both your families, and Joey, too. You stay the night at Melissa’s like a thousand other nights before, your packed suitcase repacked by the redhead who had said no to about half of what you packed. You at least convinced her to leave the sunscreen in your suitcase before the two of you went to bed.

The next morning, you’re throwing both yours and Melissa’s bags in the back of Joey’s truck where his own are already at. You hug Melissa’s mom, telling her to pass half of it along to your own and remind her you’re only gone for a week. She hugs you back just as tightly and whispers a thank you for taking care of Mel. You don’t answer the sentiment other than a small nod. A silent ‘of course, why wouldn’t I?’

You’re hardly surprised halfway through the near nine hour drive that Mel is asleep, leaning against you from her spot in the middle of the cab of the truck. You’d told her it would happen when she was nudging you awake in the middle of the night because she was too excited about getting to the beach and having a week of no responsibilities with the newfound, if temporary, freedom of graduation.

What you’re slightly surprised by is Joey, suddenly piping up from his spot in the driver’s seat. He had been content to worry about driving while you and Melissa controlled the radio, singing along a bit obnoxiously to the songs you really liked and talking over the ones that weren’t favorites. Now that Melissa is asleep, his voice fills the cab. Not loud, or trying to wake up his girlfriend but loud enough to get your attention.

“You didn’t have nothin’ better to do for senior week?”

Joey doesn’t ask it meanly, or snidely. He sounds as casual as if he was asking if you heard what the weather will be in Myrtle Beach while you’re there. Except you know his meaning. You know it’s his way of saying you should have stayed home, or that he would have preferred you had.

“Mel practically insisted I come.” You answer in a matching tone. You don’t say it any differently than if you were saying it was supposed to be sunny nearly every day you were there, and not too hot. You hope he catches the meaning you hide beneath the casual tone. 

“She can handle being said no to, y’know.” Joey answers.

“Can you?” You throw out, looking over a head of red hair to glare at Joey.

He glances away from the highway to look at you for a brief moment before he turns back to watching where he’s driving. “I’m not an asshole.” He finally answers.

You don’t answer, though you drop your glare from the side of his head. Focusing instead on the view from your passenger window.

“I love her, Y/N.” Joey says after a long bout of silence filling the truck cab.

You bite your tongue, sensing he has more he feels he needs to say.

“I know I ain’t as smart as you.” Joey continues after a moment, as you thought he might. “I didn’t get straight A’s, hell, I graduated by the skin of my teeth and we both know I cheated on a test or midterm or finals more than once.” He admits.

“What’s your point, Joey?” You sigh, looking back to him.

“I see how you look at her, y’know?”

Your brow furrows. You had thought he was trying to plead his case about not taking advantage of Melissa. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“I ain’t a genius, but I ain’t stupid, Y/N.” He answers, glancing back to you for a few seconds again. “I wouldn’t do anythin’ Mel didn’t wanna do. Even if I’m…ready for more in our relationship. I love her. I don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Okay…?” You drag out, more confused the more Joey talks.

He meets your eyes briefly before he looks back to the road again. “I won’t give you a chance.” He finally says. Not in a mean way but just…factual. “I won’t mess up what me and Mel got. Even if it ain’t like what you have with her. It’s good, really good, and I love her.”

You sober, the furrow of your brow eases as you lean back in your seat. You suddenly understand. Joey knows what you realized at prom. Maybe he knew it before you realized it yourself. Your love for Melissa is more than friends, and maybe has always been. You sigh.

“Joey.” You start. “I’m not your competition.” You shrug. “I’m not sabotaging your relationship with Mel by being here. I’ve never tried to, and I won’t now. As long as you keep her happy, and take care of her? I’m not your competition. All I want is for Melissa to be happy and treated right. And she is. You think I don’t get my ear talked off about you all the time?”

Joey laughs. “You think she don’t do the same to me ‘bout you? Christ, I think I knew your valedictorian speech myself before you even gave it.”

In spite of yourself, you smile. Sure, there’s the smallest of stabs in your heart if you think about it for too long. What you feel and what it means. What you really want, what you’re missing out on. Except, the larger part of you feels warm. Warm with Melissa leaning against your shoulder sleeping soundly. Warm with the knowledge that even if it isn’t in the same way she does care about you deeply. Warm with the knowledge that you and Joey are just two people that love the same person. How upset can you really be when he wants exactly what you want for Melissa? Whatever she wants and needs to be happy. You can’t blame Joey for being protective of his relationship with her. You would be too if you were him. You are in your way about your friendship with her.

“You should talk to her about it yourself,” You say after a moment, “but she told me she isn’t ready for what you were wanting this trip to be.”

Joey is quiet for a long time before he nods. “Yeah. I kinda figured that one out.” He shrugs. “Just wish she woulda said that. ‘Stead of beating around the bush about it all, y’know?”

“Like I said…you should talk to Mel about it yourself. I’ll get lost on the beach for a while if you need me to.” You offer.

Joey grins and shakes his head. “Nah. Let’s just have a good week, huh? When we get back we’re gonna have to worry about being adults and all that other shit.”

“One last stupid teenage hurrah, huh?”

“Damn right.”

[2knightt]

if you havent already, request for the outsiders boys with a super sweet sunshine s/o?

↳i love you, so let me get to you!₊˚✧

──IN WHICH, the gang dates a happy go-lucky reader!。✦

||✰ — the gang, separately

Johnny Cade ;

your kindness probably frightened him at first, he wasn’t used to anyone as nice as you.

but when he gets to know you are—he can’t get enough.

your happiness probably rubs off on him.

johnny’s smiling more, opening doors for people, and has a little spring in his step.

the gang definitely knows about you and teases johnny about it.

“you gotta stop hangin’ ‘round y/n. you’re starting to get their smile.”

“yeah, johnnycakes. i swear—i ain’t never seen you this happy.”

“get used to it, i dunno.”

you refuse to see the bad in people, and honestly johnny kinda likes that mindset.

but he doesn’t at the same time.

he knows people in the world suck, he knows how cruel it can be—but with you by his side, you make it bearable.

you make him feel actual hope that he can get out of this place.

make him feel like he has a future.

“thank you.”

“for what?”

“..everything, y/n.”

Dallas Winston ;

opposites attract dare i say?

i can see you calming dallas down, just a bit though.

not too much. just a lot.

he stops beating up people for no reason, yelling so much, and even helps a few old ladies cross the street.

only when people aren’t look though. this is still dallas.

“jus’ get outta ‘ere, punk!”

“aw, dallas! you let ‘em go! ‘m so proud.”

“whatever.”

he mumbles, snaking an arm around your waist with his other hand stuffed in his pocket.

the gang was so fucking shocked when they found out you two were dating.

“…for real?”

“you ain’t pulling our legs, are ya?”

“no? what the hell would make you guys think that?”

“they’re sweet while you’re—you.”

“fuck’s that ‘posed mean?”

“nothing.”

i feel like a lot of people would judge you for being so happy, especially with the situation with soc’s and greasers.

but dally shuts them up real fast.

“they gotta be on drugs. no way someone can be that happ—“

“who? who’s on drugs? c’mon, you can tell me.”

“uh—no one, dallas.”

“you sure?”

“yeah.”

punches them anyways.

but i don’t want you to scroll with a bad taste in your mouth.

just know, you’re the only relationship dally has been serious about in a long time.

a very, long time. so—he loves you to death.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

admired you somewhat.

he loves the aura that surrounds you. he thinks it’s different—way different than what he’s used too.

he’s used to people beating others, spitting on people, mocking, teasing.

but you?

you go out of your way to help those who were pushed down, bullied, spit on.

he admired that. he admired you.

he loved that about you.

tries to pick up your habits—but ends up failing.

“pony, when’d you become so…happy go-lucky, huh?”

“is it bothering you?”

“a little.”

“…fuck you too then.”

i feel like he’d look for a partner like that.

his type??? possibly???

you just,

give him hope.

hope that he can leave tusla and live the life he wanted on the country side.

Sodapop Curtis ;

same thing, different font.

you two get along so well it’s sickening.

when the two of you walk in a room together you blind everyone with how bright the both of you are.

im not joking.

“did he really, soda?”

“yeah! can you believ—“

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“what?”

“get out.”

“WHY?!”

“what?!”

“y’all are ruining my bad mood. screw off.”

“is he always like this?”

“yeah. just ignore two-bit.”

takes after you a lot.

like a lot.

started fighting less, helping out more costumers at the DX, etc.

he loves talking about you.

he just

does.

you’re all he talks about. i’d know, cause i’m literally writing this rn.

Darry Curtis ;

THIS DYNAMIC IS SO CUTE OH MY GOD.

cold, closed off darry with a cute, kind and sweet reader.

i’m crying just thinking about it.

you force him to open him to others.

literally.

“how’s your day, darry?”

“okay.”

“just okay? didn’t something happen at work today?”

“well yeah.”

“then tell, em! he’s your brother, babe.”

people always chuckle, seeing you cling to his arm—all smiles while he sits, looking like a guard dog.

but as soon as darry glares at them—they stop laughing.

everyone calls you sunshine after darry mockingly called you that. sorry i don’t make the rules :/ (yes i do.)

“hey, sunshine!”

“oh—hey, dal!”

“don’t call them that.”

“why not, superman?”

“because.”

Steve Randle ;

Guard dog 2.0

you gotta hold him back all the time help.

“steve! you know violence isn’t good—i hate it!”

“LEMME AT ‘EM, BABE! C’MON!!”

isn’t also—not used to people being so nice to him.

so you being so affectionate, looking out for him, loving him—just being so nice to him in general is so..shocking.

“you did so good today, love. ‘m so proud.”

“what?”

“oh? did you not hear me?”

“no—i did. it was just, outta nowhere. kinda spooked me a lil.”

please just love him.

please. he needs it.

he needs someone like you in his life and he’s so glad you are in his life.

he would’ve lost his mind a long time ago if you weren’t.

Two-bit Matthews ;

YALL ARE SO CUTE.

silly goofy guy with a sweet loving partner.

you let him ramble about anything and everything. he couldn’t be more happy.

“and they dance, like all the time!”

“even the dog?”

“EVEN THE DOG! he got his own moves, y/n!”

brags about dating the kindest person in Tulsa 24/7.

like, actually.

if you don’t like his drinking cause you know it’s slowly killing him, he’ll slow down on it.

“two, you know i don’t like you drinkin’ this stuff!”

“i know. but it’ll be my last one tonight, promise.”

“better be, ‘m worried for you.”

you’re like all he talks about.

he’s just so blessed to have an angel in his life!

like, what’d a guy like him do to get a person like you? save a country?

[1427]

When the Levee Breaks (pt. 1)

Daryl Dixon x OFC

The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her. Right?

Chapt. Setting: Atlanta camp

Chapt. Warnings: degrading and sexist language, season 1 Daryl, he’s not nice in this, probably won’t be for a while. 

Word count: 1600 

A/N : (aka authors warning) this is written in Daryl’s POV soOo idk. Probably not everyone’s bag. Maybe it’s no one’s bag. These first three chapters are kinda rough and I’m sorry but I can only proofread my own stuff so many times before I either post it or delete it forever.

masterlist

17+ mdni for the whole story

After stringin’ a few squirrels for dinner I figure I should get back to camp. ‘m breakin’ through the tree line, and that’s when I see her.  Beatle. Beatle, for the first time in… shit, who knows? Definitely years, I’m not exactly sure how many. Beatle, just fuckin’ sittin’ at my fire. Like somehow she knew it was mine and showed up just to take it from me. Just sittin’. Smile on her face like she belongs there. She doesn’t. She doesn’t belong at this camp, with these people. Shit, Beatle doesn’t even belong alive if I’m bein’ honest. 

No one in this fuckin’ camp can hunt worth a damn.  They’re gonna expect me to feed ‘em, ain’t they? Eventually. Eventually the food’ll run out and it’ll just be me feedin’ fuckin’ everyone. M’not doin’ it. I’m not doin’ shit for ‘em anymore. Why should I? Left my brother on that roof to rot. Naw, I’ll hunt for my damn self. Don’t even know why I’m still fuckin’ here. Should be out findin’ Merle. Honestly, don’t even know why I’m not.

Even before the dead started walkin’. I figured her days were numbered since the first fuckin’ time I met ‘er. Drunk as hell, eyes glassy, loud annoying voice barkin’ like a damn dog. Just yap yap yappin at Merle and me, tits half hangin’ outta her bikini top. Ones cinched in the string like she’d just forgotten to take ‘em out from her last time around the bar. A dumb drunk bitch, Beatle. Stupid fuckin’ stripper name. Who’s dick gets hard over a stripper named Beatle? 

I watch her, just for a second, checkin’ to see if maybe it’s not really her. But it is. ‘Course it fuckin’ is. 

Shane’s the first person I see that’s not doin’ anything, going through some clothes in a duffel bag in the back of a van, figure he might know, “Where the fuck did she come from?” Pointing toward Beatle, her back to us, fifty yards away. Stupid purple hair blowing all over the damn place. 

Shane looks to see who I’m pointing at, but who the fuck else is new at camp? His eyes finally land on Beatle before looking back at me like he’s trying to fight the smile on his damn face, “Why? You interested?”

I’m tryin’ not to lose my shit that she’s even fuckin’ here. “Nah…” I shake my head, “I know ‘er.”

Shane looks up, surprised maybe, and then not. Looking from Beatle back to me again, eyeing us up. “Yeah, makes sense.” 

I squint back at ‘im, “S’that supposed ta mean?” 

He shrugs, making a face, before smiling again, folding another shirt into his pack, “Just that you look like you might know eachother.” He doesn’t say more but I know what he’s not sayin. “Is all.” He adds on the end just to reiterate. 

He means we’re both fuckin redneck trash to anyone who looks at us. I look back over at her, startin’ to get real mad at this jarhead dickhead. Not for her or nothin’. Even if he’s right, he don’t gotta say it. Or maybe it was the way he said it. Or the way he didn’t say it. Like a fuckin’ pussy. 

A part of me feels like standin’ up for myself. Hell, a part of me feels like stickin’ up for Beatle. But, shit, it’s not even worth it.

I cough up a lougie and spit it close to his foot. “So where’d she come from?” I’m fuckin’ repeating myself. I hate fuckin’ repeating myself. 

“Think she just wandered in. Must’ve been lost in the woods or something. Ask Rick. He seems to know everything.”

Can’t keep myself from crackin’ at his petty comment. Always so fuckin’ loud with his contempt, makin’ the situation obvious to anyone with eyes. Messy. 

I decide I’m gonna ask ‘er. She’s gonna see me eventually. Better I approach her first, right? Don’t need to get football tackled in the middle of doin’ somethin’ else when she sees me for the first time. So I pull out a cigarette and start walkin’ over.

She’s talkin’ to Andrea. She fuckin’ would. Both of them loud dumb bitches. Talking about all the dumb shit they miss since everything’s turned to shit. Not talkin’ about people or nothin’ important. Just bullshit like getting your damn nails done, and eating fuckin’ ice cream. 

“Where’d you fuckin’ come from?” Sayin it louder than I meant. More aggressive than I thought my voice would sound. Usually fuckin’ is, though.  The laughing between Andrea and Beatle stops and they look over at me, just standing there waitin’ for it to register. Waitin’ for Beatles reaction. Starin’ ‘er the fuck down like she doesn’t fuckin’ belong here. She doesn’t. 

Beatles eyes light up, getting up from her chair and runnin’ over to me like she’s never been more excited to see someone in her whole damn life. I try to brace myself, but she still rocks me backward as she jumps on me, “Daryl!” Should have stopped her, could have moved just right out of the way. But nah, I let her. 

I don’t hug her back though, just push her off and let her own feet catch her. Dumb bitch doesn’t know personal boundaries. Her voice so close to my ear, “Damn, don’t look so happy to see me.”

Happy to see her? I’m not. Didn’t think I could be so unhappy to see a familiar face in my whole fuckin’ life. But she wasn’t letting that stop her, never fuckin’ did. “I was lost, found this camp. They said I could stay.” She explains, her voice high and happy and annoying as it ever was. At least she’s not drunk. 

Everyone around the fire had gone back to what they were doing. Not watchin’ us anymore. They could probably see as well as Shane that it was obvious how we knew eachother. Well, maybe not exactly how. But they probably had a good idea. 

I dunno what to say to her explanation, so I don’t say nothin’. And she just stands next to me, too close, clearly not gettin’ the hint that I didn’t really wanna talk to her. Just wanted to know why she was here. Now I know. She wasn’t gettin’ that she could and should just go back to her conversation with Andrea about ice skating, or cocktails, or what the fuck ever. 

“What about you?” Her voice quieter for fuckin’ once. 

I shake my head, blowing smoke out, “Merle and me, met up with everyone...” I don’t feel like explaining it, so I don’t. 

Beatle’s lookin’ up at me, her big eyes all wide and excited like a dumbass deer too stupid to move out of traffic, “Merle’s here?” 

This coil of disgust, I feel it snaring it’s way through my abdomen. Yeah, that’s the feeling Beatle usually gives me. Back like it never fuckin’ left. “Nah, not anymore. Sorry to dry your cunt.” 

Beatle says “Ew” fast. Like she’s so disgusted by my vocabulary. Like she isn’t just as crude, the things I heard that little mouth of hers say. 

“He’s not…” she means dead.

“Nah, hes not dead.” Usually this is where I talk something nice about Merle, about how he’s a tough sunuvabitch or some other shit. But not to Beatle. Beatle already knows, and for some reason talking about Merle with her makes me.. fuck… whatever. 

Glancing over, it looks like Beatle’s finally got the hint that I don’t wanna talk to her. She probably really was excited to see me, and I almost feel bad for a second. Before she puts her grubby fuckin’ hand in my face and asks if she can have a cigarette. Needy fuckin’ bitch. 

I laugh right in her face. At the gall of her. That at the end of it all, of everything; she was still trying to get some fuckin’ handout. “Naw.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl, please? I haven’t had one in days!” As if I give a shit what she has or hasn’t had. Hasn’t seen me in years and wants to ask for favors? 

I keep draggin’ on my cigarette, blowin’ the smoke out, and m’not smiling anymore, “I said naw. I don’t see your tits out, why would I give you anything?” Fuck repeating myself.

“You wanna see my tits?” She says it like it’s actually a question. Like she really fuckin’ believes that I’m askin’. 

“You’re a dumb bitch, Beatle, y’know tha’?” I shake my head at her, laughin’ at her again. She’s fuckin’ ridiculous.  Taking another drag I realize the cig is trash, and I almost throw the butt into the fire but decide to hand it to her instead. 

She takes it, with needy fingers like I knew she fuckin’ would. Trying to hide my smile at how fuckin’ pathetic she always seems to be.  Watching her take my trash like it’s fuckin’ gold. She drags it once, I can smell the filter burning and she throws it in the fire. “Next time maybe you’ll share one with me?” Her voice is so sweet it makes me sick. Like I didn’t just call her a dumb bitch to her face. 

Saccharine and fake, that’s how she’s always been. All her cute little movements and motions, all just tryin’ to work me up so I’ll share my smokes or listen to her dumbass whine about anything and everything. Annoying.

“Prolly not.” And I’m already walking away from the fire. From Beatle. Going back to my tent and praying to god, Jesus Christ, don’t let her follow. 

Chewin’ on what she said. Lost, huh? See? Didn’t even belong alive. 

pt 2

[valley-of-headcanons]

If I can request, you did the way the bachelorettes react to ex-stardom. I enjoyed it so much and would love to see it for the bachelors too?

I love your writings ;u; ♡

bachelors reacting to your ex-stardom || headcanons

being in the limelight was fun for a while, but settling down is definitely what you needed. but how would your partner react to your past? part one here!

warnings: nothing that i can see! :)

requested by: anon! hii, thank you so much for the request! this topic is pretty interesting, and i really enjoyed writing for everyone! be sure to check out part one, it adds a little more context and i think it's super duper cool and you're definitely missing out. anyway! hope you enjoy :)

alex

• You and Alex were on the beach, resting after tossing around the Gridball. He got on the topic of his dream of playing Gridball professionally, and how although he wanted to make it big and turn his passion into a profession, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He's been such a shut-in these last few years, only really hanging out with you and his grandparents. The fame sounds so scary. But ... you knew that all too well. He didn't know that, though. Maybe it was time.

• You slowly told Alex that you knew a lot about being famous, before explaining who you were. “Wait- what?! Why didn't you tell me sooner?! I love your music! Genuinely, like I listen to it all the time ... I know it's not really the manliest choice and it's my guilty pleasure- not to say men shouldn't listen to your music! Oh my yoba- sorry- ... I love your music. That's what I'm trying to say. It's really really good.”

• As you explained why you left the limelight, Alex nodded understandingly. “Yeah, Gridball will always be a dream of mine, but the people I'd be around are probably not good. Maybe staying in the town isn't such a bad idea, huh? I don't think anyone could really beat hangin' with you, grandma, and grandpa.”

• Alex soon opened up about which of your songs was his favorite, and asked in depth about them. There were some that really spoke to him emotionally, and he had a really bad time dealing with that sort of stuff. The fact that you created something he relates to makes him happier than ever! He scored pretty good, if he says so himself.

• Regardless of your old fame, he's still deeply in love with you. He admires your talent, but that doesn't overshadow how you've helped him in his life since you've actually been in it. He will still listen to your music, but maybe a little more publicly. He wouldn't tell anyone unless you said it was okay, but he'd totally be bragging about you if he were allowed.

elliott

• Elliott was not having a great writing session. He invited you over, incredibly stumped with his latest novel. He was bouncing ideas off of you left and right, but nothing would stick! You mentioned that music could be an inspiration, and it was like a lightbulb smacked him in the forehead. He raced over to his stereo and turned on the radio. A cheese-y pop tune ... YOUR cheese-y pop tune. He was embarrassed over the pop playing and immediately turned it, but he did notice your expression and inquired.

• You explained that the song on the radio was a song that you wrote and sang yourself. He was startled at first. “I didn't know we had such a big star in our midst! Are those your lyrics as well? I didn't pin you as such a wonderful writer, but I am so grateful! Someone that shares my writing prowess! I knew some invisible string brought us together!”

• As you continue to explain your past and why you came out to Pelican Town, Elliott nods along, hearing your story. “I didn't realize how similar we are. I understand wanting to get away from it all, that's why I'm out here as well. I suppose you came here to get away from your work, and I came to get closer to it. How awfully poetic that is, don't you think?”

• He asked a lot of questions, really diving deep into your mind. Of course, he only asked if you were comfortable with it. He loved analyzing people's minds, especially if they were different from his own. He may or may not use some of these aspects of your life in his new novel. With your permission, of course. You've always been his biggest muse.

• Elliott is invested in your life, like any good partner should, and admires your creative talent. This only heightens his view of you, as you are an artist, just like him. Despite the different mediums, you two share a lot in common. He would love you regardless of this aspect, but this only draws you two closer.

harvey

• Harvey was giving you a check-up, which was a bit unethical now that you were dating, but eh. He's the only doctor in the town and he's very worried about your health. He noticed that you mentioned a previous injury when checking your knee reflexes. This injury has occurred in a rehearsal for one of your tours. You didn't want to lie to your sweet boyfriend, so you had to admit the truth.

• As he wrote on his clipboard your reasoning, he stopped for a moment. “Tour? Popstar? Is this one of your sarcastic comments that I'm not getting? ... oh, really? You've never mentioned that part of your life before. Please, if you want to open up about it, show me some of your work once we get home. I hate to admit, but I'm fairly curious,” he said with a soft, caring smile.

• When you two get home after the checkup, he starts to cook dinner. “Please, keep me company while I cook. If you'd like to share some stories ... well, only if you're comfortable with it, I know that you got away from fame for a reason, but ... I want to know that part of your life, just like I know this one. Indulge me, if you would, my love.”

• He tries his best to support this part of your life, even if he wasn't involved. He ends up purchasing a lot of your old music and keeping a collection, showing it as a sign of affection. He listens to it while he does household chores, humming along to your songs happily while you're away.

• Harvey didn't mind this aspect of your life. It was another thing that made you the person he loves. He listens to everything you say and pays attention, specifically to the parts of fame you enjoyed and didn't enjoy. He only asked about the stuff you liked, and allowed you to open up about the hard times on your own, when you were ready. He was incredibly careful about the whole thing, and wouldn't dare make you uncomfortable.

sam

• As you and Sam were relaxing in his room one day, he was fiddling with his guitar. He seemed super stumped, strumming random chords to try and make some sense. Nothing was working ... he eventually showed you something that sounds sort of functional? But this rhythm was VERY similar to a song you put out a long time ago. You let out a soft giggle, which left Sam confused. You had to explain now.

• You drop the fact that you were a popstar in a nonchalant manner, trying to make it not a huge deal. But it's Sam. Of course it's a big deal. “No. Fucking. WAY! You're kidding, you've gotta be fucking with me! And you didn't tell me?! For SHAME! As punishment, you've gotta tell me all about it and I will refuse to change the topic. Now SPILL!”

• You explained who you are and why you left everything behind, which Sam thought about for a moment. “Wow ... I never really bought about fame that way. That must've been a lot, and I really do get why you came all the way down here. I'm just glad you're here now, y'know? ... but if you do end up getting the itch to create some music again, with no strings attached to fame, I'm always here. I'd love to create somethin' sick with you.”

• Sam always asked questions about the parts of fame he didn't know much about. Did you go to any parties? Was this person actually chill or were they a dick? He was so curious and asked probably the weirdest questions imaginable, but they were refreshing. And if you weren't the first person Sam showed his music to before, you were now. He always asked for your approval, and asked how to improve. It was extremely sweet.

• Even though he was excited about everything you had presented to him, he tried his best to be respectful. If you asked him to stop, he would with a nod and a quick apology, giving you a small kiss before putting the topic to bed. He still loved you for you! This aspect about you is just so cool and interesting to him. He adores you regardless, and wouldn't trade the current version of you for anyone else.

sebastian

• Sebastian had just finished working for the day and needed to relax. He flopped down on his couch and pressed the button on his radio. The pop station came on, and he was about to turn it before you walked in. You were shocked to hear your own song playing, staring at him with wide eyes. He makes some sarcastic comments about how this is actually his music taste and you just don't understand him. He doesn't understand why you're so shocked, though.

• As you slowly drop the bomb, he lets out a little chuckle. “Hah. Funny. You can drop the act, I can tell you're fuckin' with me ... are you really a world renowned superstar with several albums with hundreds of chart toppers? Like I believe that! Why the hell would you choose Pelican Town of all places to live, huh? This is the type of town you need to run away from.”

• You eventually have to explain why you left, why that lifestyle really wasn't you. He's actually at a loss for words for a moment, before nodding. “I didn't expect that out of you, you really are full of surprises. Tell me more, if you wanna. I'd be willing to listen. If you don't wanna talk about all that shit though, it's fine. Whatever you wanna do,” he said with a welcoming smile.

• Your music was FAR from what Sebastian listened to commonly. His Radiohead collection can attest for that. But ... he decided to take a listen to your music. He's very picky usually, so this is a pretty good feat. He actually kind of enjoyed it, for once. Maybe you're leading him down the path of liking something that's not edgy. Hmm. That's nice.

• Sebastian found this part of you incredibly interesting, but he didn't ask many questions. If you wanted him to know, he would, and he respected that. He loves hearing you talk about anything that you're passionate about, or just hearing you talk in general. It's arguably one of his favorite past times.

shane

• You and Shane were sitting by the pier one night. This was Shane's safe spot, attempting not to start drinking again. You two spent several afternoons sitting under the glow of the stars with an old cassette player and some of Shane's favorite songs. One of these nights, he mentioned that his childhood dream was to be an actor, and how weird fame seemed. He would hate being famous ... and you did too. This would be a perfect time to drop this bomb.

• You mentioned your past to Shane, but he brushed it off. “Uh huh. And I'm actually a famous bowler but I fucked up my arm and now I'm destined to live the rest of my life in this little shit hole. Oh, my poor dreams. How sad,” he said, his dry humor biting with sarcasm. He noticed your facial expressions ... they weren't sarcastic. “... I'm sober right? You didn't spike my drink or somethin' and you're tryin' to fuck with me ... huh. Now that's a topic.”

• You explained everything, mainly about why you came back here. You figured Shane wouldn't really know much about who you were, that's not his type of music anyway. “Huh. Nice. I figured you were just some corporate big league who got tired of the white walls. A lot of things make a lot more sense, I guess. You're a lot more talented than I thought ... sorry, that was mean- let me rephrase ... you are talented. I really am tryin' to get better about that ...”

• Shane didn't ask much about it further, but would listen if you brought it up again. He ended up stumbling across your work ... it was way better than he imagined. Maybe because it was you. It was a source of comfort to him, and he often listened to your beautiful voice when he was in a dark time. It helped him through a lot.

• He didn't mind your past, you had a lot less skeletons in your closet than he did. He liked hearing your voice, so it was a win-win. He got this down-to-Earth side of you that he enjoys being around, but he can also listen to his star-studded partner whenever he wants. He wouldn't tell you that, though. That's his little secret.

[writtenjewels]

Mirage part 5

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Jason did have a few things in the cabin to entertain himself. He had no radio, but he did have a boombox and music CDs. Salim looked through them, partly wanting to find something to listen to and partly curious about Jason's musical taste. The bands he recognized were rock and roll, and Salim could only assume the rest were the same. Some of the covers suggested something even more extreme. Metal, according to Jason.

“Like they make music using metal objects?” Salim asked.

“It's like rock, but louder,” Jason explained. Salim was intrigued by this description. He picked one of the CDs and put it in. “I donno if you'll like it,” Jason warned.

The first few notes were a blast of noise. Salim listened, fascinated by the sounds. Then the guitar kicked in, filling the song with energy. Drums joined in to set a rising tempo. It made Salim's heart beat faster. He wanted to move, to fight something, to run outside, to dance. It got even faster and the vocals finally kicked in. Salim couldn't understand a word they were saying.

“I like the music!” he shouted to Jason over the noise. “But not... that.” He didn't think he could call the speaking words singing.

“Wait, this is the best part!” Jason shouted back. The guitars and drums had taken over the song. It sounded like pure chaos. There was no rhythm as far as Salim could tell. It was like the climax of a storm put to music. What a shame that it died down.

“Amazing!” Salim beamed. He caught Jason's eye and the other man smiled at him. The song had filled Salim with too much energy to keep sitting down. He rose to his feet, swaying a little under the weak limbs. Jason moved to support him.

“Heavy metal gave ya a little boost. That's cute.”

“Cute?” Salim echoed. The word caused fresh butterflies to explode in his stomach.

“How 'bout we take a stroll around the room while you're feelin' up to it?” Jason suggested.

Salim agreed and the two made a slow circuit around the room. The CD had moved onto the next song. It was just as energized and loud as the previous one. It was strange having such different sensations: the wild energy of the music, and the nervous fluttering being so close to Jason. They finished the walk and Salim sank back down to the floor. He was a little tired, though that was likely due to going days without activity.

“What is this band, anyway?” Salim wondered.

“They're called Slayer. I got some other ones if you wanna try them.”

“No, thank you. One is more than enough.” Salim noticed that Jason still had an arm around him, but said nothing in hopes that the man would stay close. To his disappointment, Jason pulled away to turn down the music.

“I haven't done anything like this in a long time,” Jason spoke up.

“You used to rescue people in the desert more often?” Salim teased.

“Don't be a smart-ass,” Jason scolded, though there was no bite to his tone. “I mean hangin' out and listenin' to music. It's nice.”

“Circumstances aside, I'm glad to be here,” Salim told him. He slid across the floor to get a little closer to Jason. “I'm glad it was you who found me, Jason.”

“Me too. I mean,” Jason clarified, “I'm glad I was around.”

Salim moved a bit closer. He wanted to feel Jason's touch so badly. He raised a hand, intending to initiate the contact. At the last moment his uncertainty took over and he placed his hand on the boombox instead. Even quieted, the music was powerful enough to make the machine pulse. Salim closed his eyes so he could focus on it.

“You tired?” Jason asked him. His hand touched Salim's shoulder and Salim opened his eyes again, tilting his head in Jason's direction.

“It's been a long day. I think. I'm not sure of the time.”

“It's late,” Jason supplied, He reached over to turn off the boombox without releasing his hold on Salim. “I'll help you to bed.”

“Bed?” Salim repeated. “You mean this whole time I could've been sleeping in a bed instead of on the floor?”

“You just can't stop bein' a smart-ass, can you?” Jason snorted in amusement.

“It's a gift.” Salim's eyes were starting to droop. “Will you stay until I fall asleep?"

“Sure I will.” Jason's words had gone soft. Salim thought he felt the man's lips brush against his ear. “I ain't goin' nowhere.”

[silverzoomies]

totally gonna send you random headcannons of my xmen dr based off of stuff i see you reblog

im forced to move into the mansion to stay safe and i only agree to it under a few circumstances:

no classes for me

my own room with my own private bathroom

access to a kitchen bc i love to cook/bake

some times i can’t sleep so i’ll randomly bake cakes or cupcakes or whatever it is i’m in the mood for and i like to believe peter will bother me while i do it and he tries to help but he ends up splashing batter all over the kitchen

when we celebrate his birthday for the first time together i bake him a giant twinky cake and he cries (he gets sick from eating over half- lets be real the ENTIRE cake but that’s okay we still love him)

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH DJFIEHFIJRJR !!! y'all, please keep sending me stuff like this. it makes my entire week, you don't even know !! 💗💗💗

you have nooooo idea how jealous some of the students are gonna be !! like, c'mon !! you get a private bathroom ?? that's just not fair !!

your baking habits are so frequent, the students forgive you for stealin' the private bathroom. as long as you're makin' tasty treats they can indulge in, you're alright in their book

one night, you're up late and baking. that's when peter spots you. you're mixing some good good in a bowl. lost in your own, little world. got the radio on at a low volume, listening to some tunes

but it's like...3am. you know that, right?

i mean, it makes sense for him to be up. he really doesn't need to sleep when his energy is so limitless. but you? what, did you have a bad night or somethin'?

peter just wanted to grab a quick soda, rush back upstairs, play some mortal kombat (on the arcade cabinet he obtained 100% legally, fyi)

but - guilty as charged - he's a sucker for sweets. and now...you've made him a little curious...

this becomes somewhat of a habit

at some outrageous hour in the night, you'll bake again. peter'll be there, leaning over your shoulder. he'll pester you. tell you all these (slightly exaggerated) stories of all the cool stuff he's done

he sticks around, at first, just to taste test everything you make. but after so many nights - he kinda just really likes hangin' out with you

eventually, he tries to help. but cooking is a slow process. you tell him a thousand times - he needs to be patient !! he can't rush the process !!

next thing you know, you're turning around at the sound of a casual "whoops." there's batter everywhere. flour. a few broken eggs. he's licking unmixed batter off the whisk. he makes a face when it doesn't taste like yours

"i followed your recipe to a t, dude. i dunno how i bombed so bad!! i even added a little extra vanilla"

"peter, you used the whole bottle"

"so? what's wrong with that?"

seriously? what did he even do wrong?? who can complain about more vanilla ??

on his birthday, you tell him you have a surprise for him. and his first, immediate assumption is-

"is it a cake? it's a cake, isn't it? definitely a cake. what kind? did you make your own frosting? how big is it? it's huge, right? please tell me i don't have to share-"

and again, you remind him he has to be patient. which makes him antsy. but...fine !!! he's (kind of) willing to wait, if it means he gets somethin' tasty out of it

you reveal it's a giant, twinkie cake. same recipe as the originals, but even better. you put your own little spin on it. made it extra special. and this is...LEGIT SO CRAZY !! it's totally AMAZING !! like, how did you even know ??

"i could kiss you right now, y'know that? i could, and i might. right after i dig into this bad boy. just you wait."

he doesn't think before he acts. ever.

he devours the whole thing before you can remind him to pace himself

normally, his rapid metabolism saves him any aches and pains. he can swallow down a whole pizza - or two - and be just fine

but this cake...this is a really, really big one. you went wayyyy above and beyond with it

he'll be keeling over in bed later, writhing in tummy achin' agony. but your baking is so worth the suffering

[felixsterprankster]

Sooooo

My friend and I made short fanfics based on THIS POST for our olnf MCs

For a little context

Falco and Allison's are legally siblings as Allison was adopted from Englad at the age of 3 and is a few months younger than Falco.

And for this supernatural AU fanfic. Allison is a Wendigo whe Falco and Opal are Selkies

Without further ado

FANFICS

First fic is of Allison's Incident with being a hidden Wendigo by @rosieofthyposie (my bestie/Sister)

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"Hey! You guys should totally come over for camping in my backyard!"

It was just an innocent request from the young Tamarack. Not like Allison or Ivory knew what a camping trip entailed. Naivety still ran all around the group about the truth of the two. So Ivory was quick to agree and of course dragged Ally along. Not like Ally protested much. She had a liking for Tam and Qiu. They weren't going to be far from the Culdesac anyway.

Just as Ivory and Ally arrived, Qiu was just behind and Tam had set up a table and her sleeping bag next to a ring of rocks. Ally tilted her head slightly but didn't question the ring of rocks. Maybe she should have. Tam's face lit up with a bright smile that was contagious for the other three kids. Even Ally who didn't smile often. Qiu then placed the marshmallows he brought, Ally and Ivory placing the chocolate down that Tam requested they bring as well. Tam already had the gram crackers. A confusing name for Ally to comprehend. A gram is a weight, nor does it look like a normal cracker but she already asked Ama what it meant and she simply replied 'that's just what they're called'. How inconclusive. Seeing the ingredients on the table now, Tam clapped her hands together. "Now we just need sticks!"

Sticks? Ally already sees metal rods. Would those not work for sticking the food on? But again, Ally doesn't ask and just follows Ivory to pick up sticks of varying sizes as they saw Qiu and Tamarack picking up. Qiu of course brought the bigger sticks and logs it seems, placing them in the stone circle. Tam followed suit and Ivory and Ally were right behind. After adjusting the sticks and logs together, Tam threw on some dry leaves and stuffed them in the little stick tent before rummaging in her bag for something. Ally temporarily was distracted by a rabbit that she pointed out to Ivory so they were both distracted from the fact that Tam pulled out some matches. The bunny was checking out some berries near by and so the two little creatures stared at it for a while. That was until Ally felt her body growing warmer. Not just naturally but from 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨. She was confused for a second before looking back to what was a pile of sticks and leaves and is now a very 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 fire. Her heart rate picked up and she let out a mix between a hiss and a growl. Without a thought in her head now, she raised a hand ready to attack the person who started the fire but Ivory as quick. She grabbed Ally by the hands and turned her away from the group, earning confused stares but she just smiled. "Ally isn't used to fires... She was just a little scared. We'll... Be right back."

Quickly she pushed Ally away and quickly to the house where Ama was reading a book. She glanced up as she heard the door open and frowned seeing Ally shaking so much. "What happened?"

Just hearing the softness of Ama's voice was enough to ease Ally's fear and she quickly ran up to Ama, clinging to her shirt. This would take a minute before she's ready to talk about it and Ivory returned to the other two just briefly to relay the news that Ally wasn't feeling well. 'I ruined another night...'

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And here is the one I made about Falco!

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Ivory was a Selkie, same with her En Mamma, while her sister, Allison, was not a Selkie but a Wendigo. Erikssons made it work with their new life, even away from any big body of water.

Right now the culdesac kids were hanging out in the Eriksson estate. Hanging out to avoid the cold of the change of Autumn to Winter, specifically, Ivorys room.

"I'm so happy it's Friday! And I Don't have Gymnastics tomorrow!" Ivory said triumphantly to her friends and sister. "Yaaaay!" Tamarack said as she jumped up and and down at the news of her friend being free tomorrow to play.

"Do you want to hang out? Maybe go into town?" her other neighbor piped in with his input. "Actually, I was thinking of playing dolls with Knapp! Maybe the day after AFTER my Gymnastics class! Is the rest of the club gonna go?" "hhmm maybe. I don't know"

"Oooo what's this?!" Tamarack said pulling something off Ivorys bed. "Isn't that the pelt you showed me a few weeks ago Ivy? Before Misses Eriksson told you not to take it out of the house?" Qiu chimed in. Ivory turned to see what the 2 were talking about just to freeze. 'MY SKIN!' she panicked. "N-No!" Allison shouted, shocking Tamarack and Qiu, as she rarely raised her voice.

"Don't touch that!" Ivory shouted in an obviously panicked voice as she jumped up to take it from Tamarack and clutched it to her body, slightly turning away from them.

"I'm sorry Ivory! I didn't mean to make you mad! " Tamarack said quickly, she really didn't mean to make Ivory upset. Both neighbors visibility startled from the normally hyper but also Level Headed girl sounding so panicked and... Scared... They had never seen this side of Ivory.

Allison moved quickly to get near Ivory. Allison was there after the incident with Qiu and her skin. Ivory wanted to show her friends her skin, but after their En Mamma saw Ivory showing her skin to Qiu and was about to let him hold it, she was quick to put an end to it, out of fear. She quickly scolded Ivory before bringing her inside to tell her why she shouldn't show off her skin to people.

After hearing a few stories of En Mamma's friends who had their skins taken and were forced to leave the ocean forever.

It filled Ivory with fear..... So much fear... She likes her neighbors... She LOVES her neighbors... But the thought of that happening to her scared her so deeply.

She knew her En Mamma never meant to scare her like that, but it was still scary to think that one day she could be forced to go with someone just cause they took her skin.

"I... I'm Sorry!" she said quickly before booking it out of her room and right to her En Mamma's room.

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[artyandink]

𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 | 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚎!𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 | 𝟸

Summary: Ivonne Rainer hadn’t met Dean Winchester in 2006 after he was hit by a car. No, this time, this universe, they met in 2010, when the whole Apocalypse deal started and Dean was made leader of one of the only remaining survival camps in America. Little did he know, one random raid would change everything.

MASTERLIST

RETRIEVAL

“So…” I was approached by woman my age, her brown hair tied up in a sleek ponytail. “you must be the new arrival. Dean really has a problem with you.” 

I cocked a rifle, passing it to another camper, James Rhodes, who took it, checked it and nodded, seemingly impressed. “That’s me, yeah.” I nodded, folding my arms. “Though I’m usually known as Ivy.” 

“Ivy.” She repeated, then held her hand out with a smile. “Risa.” 

“Nice to meet you.” I responded with a small smile twitching at my lips, then I saw her still-outstretched hand and shook it hurriedly. 

“Woah, quite the grip.” She grinned as I let go. 

“Oh, uh, sorry.” I chuckled nervously. 

“Nah, you’re good.” Then she smiled again. “I don’t see what Dean meant about you being a pain in the ass. You seem like you aren’t.” 

“Just depends on who I’m hangin’ with.” 

“Touché. Dean can be an irritating S.O.B, but you learn to ignore when he’s being a douche after a while.” 

“Promise?” I smirked, making her laugh. I laughed too, feeling at ease around this… Risa. 

“Hey, uh, Risa?” James interrupted the conversation, slinging a gun clip holster on his chest. “I’m about to head out with the squad to Missouri. I know the boss told me to keep an eye on Ivy here, but-“ 

“Oh, so I need surveillance now?” I raised an eyebrow, pissed off. “This guy’s askin’ to get decked.” 

“Believe me, he is, but it’s just how Dean rolls.” Risa chuckled, then led me away. “You’ll have a much better time hanging around me. I’ll introduce you to the campers, get you started on something, and we’ll all be smiles and giggles.” 

“I hope not.” I laughed. 

“Yeah, neither do I.” She grinned. “Just a few things. Stay away from the hippie cabin at 3 o’clock, it gets hot an’ heavy in there and nobody wants to hear it. If you wanna earn Dean’s trust, you have to save his ass, but he doesn’t let anyone save his ass so you just kiss that sweet thing goodbye. And one last thing…” She rounded on me, “can you shoot?” 

“I’ll fire a bullseye if you give me a target.”

”Alright.” She picked up a shotgun, handing it to me. “There’s a red dot on the wall behind you. Don’t think, just shoot.” I immediately spun around, my eyes locking onto the red dot. The moment I got a visual, I pulled the trigger, hitting it dead on. “Damn!” 

“Eh, it’s nothin’.” I chuckled, handing the gun back. 

“You’re a damn good shot, I mean, that was-“ 

“Suicide!” A man who was only an inch taller than me popped up, looking outraged. “Do you know what Dean’s gonna say when he sees a bullet missing-“ His eyes landed on me, and he looked confused. “Risa, who is this?” 

“Right, I forgot to mention.” Risa gestured to me with a grimace. “Chuck, this is Ivonne Rainer, she’s new here. Ivy, this is Chuck ‘Prophet of the Lord’ Shirley. However, a prophet isn’t much use in an apocalypse. They’re only gonna spell D-O-O-M.” 

“At least I’m the rations organiser! What are you, the boss’ woman?” 

“Exactly.” Risa smirked before tapping me on the shoulder, leading me away. “That’s Chuck for you. He gets a bit sensitive sometimes. Anyway, Dean gets really touchy with the supplies and stuff, goes through ‘em himself to make sure nothin’s missing.” 

“If he’s gonna freak out over a bullet, give me a bit o’ metal and a heat source, I’ll forge a new one.” I grinned, and Risa raised her eyebrows.

I held up a freshly-forged bullet, examining it for a second before putting it in the cartridge. Risa looked on in surprise, and nodded in disbelief. “You did it.” 

“Yep.” I nodded, replacing the cartridge in the gun and cocking it before throwing it aside. “I’m prepared in a dire sitch. The boss won’t suspect a thing, so you’re safe.” 

“My god, you’re amazing.” She laughed in disbelief, looking at me in awe. “Just where did Dean dig you up from, huh, lifesaver?” 

“Jersey City.” I smiled. 

“Wait- that’s a Croat hotspot.” She sat up suddenly, her jaw dropping. “How long were you there?” 

“Two years.” 

“And you survived?! No bites? You’re not one of ‘em, right?” 

“I’m immune.” I shrugged, frowning a bit. “Never figured out why, but I’ve been bitten at, scratched, and never came out with a single goddamn piece of sulphur in my blood. It’s relievin’, but unsettlin’.” 

“Unsettling? That’s a damn blessing.” 

“It’s that I don’t know where they come from.” I sighed, looking down. “They just came to me when I was nineteen. No explanation, no nothin’, all I knew is that they were there.” 

“Damn, that’s…” She trailed off, frowning. “that’s rough.” 

“I lived, clearly.” I chuckled. “Besides, I had my uncle to help with the worst of it. Until we got separated, and I had to quite literally fend for myself out there.” 

We sat in silence for a moment, which was all I needed, if I’m bein’ honest.

“So…” I heard someone chuckle, and I turned to see James. “I heard you were the new thing pissing Dean Winchester off.” 

“That’s me.” I smirked. “And I wear that like a badge of honour.” Then I looked him up and down, thinking. Dude had a really good body, that was enough to tell under the strained khaki shirt that made his frame look more impressive and complimented his green eyes, paired with fluffy black hair. “Nice build. You ex-military or somethin’?” 

“Uh, no.” He chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair. “I used to be a detective sergeant. The muscles just came with the job.” 

“You used to be a cop?” I grinned, then saluted jokingly. “Thanks for your service.” 

“No problem. What about you? Any job before this?” 

“Hunting, and more hunting, and more hunting-“ 

“With hunting as the cherry on top.” He joked. 

“That’s right.” 

“James!” Chuck came running up, frantically looking at a clipboard. “I’d ask Dean, but he’s out on a mission. We’re running low on edibles, how should we ration?” 

“Women and children first.” James answered instantly, and I listened carefully. “Then ration with the elders, afterwards divvy it out to the rest.” 

“Wait, Chuck,” I frowned, “how much is left? How much food?”

”Not enough to last a week.” Chuck replied.

“Then rationin’ it out is gonna be extremely difficult. With the amount of people in this camp and enough food to last a week, the women and children are gonna have everythin’.” I frowned. “You need to send out a squad for supply retrieval. Nearest abundance of food I know’s in Missouri.” 

“We need Dean’s permission for that.” James raised an eyebrow, turning to me. “And he’s on a mission, left this mornin’.” 

“Not nearly enough time. He’s hittin’ a Croat hotspot, he could be back after a week and by that time we’ll be in crisis. Scramble a team of semi-automatic experts, take a Jeep, hit Missouri, it’s the only option.”

“The boss is gonna be pissed.” Chuck scoffed. “And how do we know your plan is valid?” 

“It actually works.” James agreed, nodding with a disbelieving look. “We’ve got enough men on hand to form a scavenge team, and Missouri’s the nearest state that we haven’t hit and isn’t a Croat infested wasteland.” 

“Not my fault if your ass gets busted by Dean.” 

“I don’t think it matters.” I retorted. “If people are starvin’, you need to do what’s necessary, not what the doctor ordered. Get a team together and send it out, see if I’m wrong.” 

“You are.” 

“Try me.” 

Winchester’s Jeep came back a week later with the med supplies, unloading them quickly. I looked up from where I was busy hauling a duffel bag, and the first thing he noticed was the people eating in a corner, his eyebrow raising. Then he turned to Chuck, conversing with him for a moment before I pinpointed the exact moment he saw red. His nostrils flared, jaw clenching along with his fist. I turned to James, sharing a look with him. 

We’re screwed. 

“JAMES!” Winchester yelled, now sipping a beer can. “RAINER! YOUR ASSES, MY TENT, NOW!” I rolled my eyes, running a hand through my hair as Risa whistled lowly. 

“Boss man seems mad.” She whispered. “Better go before he gets more pissed off. I’ll take that.” She took a hold of the duffel bag, and James and I made our way into Winchester’s tent, where he was standing there, cocking his rifle in a way that would seem threatening to a wuss. 

“You.” He pointed at James, who instantly stood straighter, the latter’s Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re my second for a reason. Without contacting me, you authorised a raid that could have gone south so quickly. What got into you, huh?! Are you thick? Or a dumbass?” 

“With all due respect, boss, we would have starved.” James answered calmly, which seemed to aggravate Winchester even more. 

“That’s besides the point! What if we’d lost men? If someone had gotten turned? That blood would be on your hands, no one else’s!”

“With absolutely no respect whatsoever, I think he made a good call.” I stepped in with a frown, folding my arms. 

“I’m getting to you.” He snapped, pointing at me before rounding back on James. However, I wasn’t gonna take that for an answer. 

“I’m afraid you‘ll have to deal with me now.” I retorted, setting my jaw. “Fact remains that I suggested the only plan that worked in your absence when you were gone a week, and your second in command, the one who’s makin’ the decisions when you’re not here, led a squad, and they got back. Alive. Now people have food and water and they can remain sane. I don’t see how that’s a problem for you, or anyone, for that matter.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Ooh, make me.” 

He pulled his gun out, pointing it at me. “Do not make me pull this trigger-“ 

“Dean!” James yelled, stepping in front of me. “Are you insane?!” 

“She’s a smartass!” 

“Hey, hey, put it down!” 

“You don’t give the orders!” 

“To hell with orders!” James retaliated, making me raise an eyebrow. Damn, boy. “She helped. She made the layout for the strike squad. She’s a smartass, sure, but she’s a useful smartass. A really damn useful one, because we could use an immune and/or psychic person right now.” 

“All the more reason for me to blow her brains out. She’s a goddamn psychic, and I haven’t had the best experiences with those bastards.” 

“Just see goddamn reason!” He persisted, holding his hands out. “Look, if she starts to go insane, or whatever it is happened with the rest of people like her, I’ll shoot her myself.” 

I snorted. “As if you could-“ 

“Work with me here.” 

“Fine.” 

“Just…” James left a pause as he tried to find the words, “give her a chance.” Winchester paused for a moment, then lowered the gun, not without giving me a steely warning look. 

“Ok.” He nodded, glancing at me briefly, “But you’re keepin’ her in check. If she steps out of line, it’s your ass.” 

“Again, with no due respect, I can handle myself.” I scoffed. “You don’t need to post a bodyguard on me every five seconds.” 

He let out a dark chuckle, his lips pursing when he stopped. “You’re actin’ like you have a choice.” 

“Oh, yeah, I do.” I nodded. “Cause you’re in no position to order me around, since there’s clearly a power imbalance here.” 

The words made him stop and rethink, and then he gritted his teeth. “Get out.” 

“Gladly.” I smirked, walking out gratefully, happy to be away from that- “Douchebag.” 

“Jackass.” Dean growled under his breath. 

Well, that couldn’t have gone better.