#but every single sweater i've seen is *just* not right enough for me to use it

[deerteatime]

you'd think thrifting a sweater would be relatively easy but no

[ktlsyrtis]

I've finally slept off enough of the jet lag to piece together some semi-coherent thoughts about last weekend.

First and foremost, it was so wonderful to get to see and talk to so many internet pals in person. Sharing this whirlwind experience with @seahorsepencils, @batnbreakfast, @starfleetwitch, @akaanonymouth, @iordio, @elphiessolsikke, and @ariverandasong is something I'm going to treasure always

(the rest is under the cut because this got long 😅)

Octopolis:

I have never been in a theater as small as the Hampstead. It is literally no bigger than my living room, with only two rows of seats around three sides. So when I tell you that Jemma was RIGHT THERE you can get a sense of what I mean lol.

Truly the wildest part was the moment of this person who you've seen on screen so many times suddenly being a real human person in front of you. Like I think my brain broke for the first few minutes of the show 😅. From that point forward it was just sitting back and taking in how engaging, funny and gorgeous she is in person. There were a few lines and moments in that show which will live rent free in my head forever. Especially what a huge dork of a dancer she is 😂

Afterwards the group of us waited in the cafe to say hello. When she came upstairs she excused herself for a bit because her brother and his family were there to see the show that night, which was very sweet, and then she came over to talk to us on her way out.

I know it sounds trite, but she really is just the sweetest, loveliest person. She took the time to talk to everyone and was so kind and engaged. I was able to give her the scarf I made for her. When she found out I knit it she was like "Really? Why would you do that for me??" 😂

The highlight of the evening came courteous of @seahorsepencils, who had seen the show the night before and told Jemma that a group of Berena fans was coming the next day.

Some actors might've been like 'oh god' and run for the back door. Others might make a big show about dressing up for their public. Not Jemma, oh no.

Meeting her was so overwhelming that I didn't notice at first. But while she was talking to someone else it suddenly clicked that she was wearing Bernie's pink coat! (I think I almost ripped @starfleetwitch's arm off when I realized lol) Slowly, the rest of what she was wearing sunk in:

Pink coat? Check. Black skinny jeans? Check. Sweater over a button down? Check. Chelsea boots? Check.

That's right friends. Jemma Redgrave, glorious dork that she is, FUCKING COSPLAYED BERNIE WOLFE FOR US!!!!!!

Honestly my biggest regret of the whole trip was that in the whirlwind of everything we didn't take a picture with her. Fortunately some other fan was there that night and got some photographic proof:

(yes, she is holding the scarf I made; no, I will not be able to be normal about it lol) (also when we told her we were going to Catherine's show the next day she said to "give her my love" 😍)

Great Expectations:

Another day, another incredible UK theater. The Royal Exchange is a gorgeous venue; much larger than Hampstead, but still very intimate. We were able to get seats in the front row banquettes for the matinee, which was an amazing experience.

Catherine on stage is...the only thing I can think of is a force of nature. Her sheer presence made it seem like she was a foot taller than the rest of the cast and she owned the stage every time she was on it. On top of that, she somehow she managed to make racist, decrepit Miss Havisham really hot??? Which is a contradiction my brain still hasn't been able to fully reconcile lol

Because of all the work that goes into her makeup she understandably didn't stage door after the matinee. Fortunately some of us also had plans to go to the evening show.

This time around my seat turned out to be on the aisle where she made all of her entrances and exits, which meant she was literally inches away from me every. single. time. (shoutout again to @starfleetwitch who was sitting directly across the aisle and therefore on the receiving end of many a gay-panicked stare on my part 😅)

It was a rainy day in Manchester and the official stage door is outside with no overhang, so we took a chance and hung around in the cafe/bar area after the show. We figured that Catherine going to the bar was as likely as the sun rising in the east lol

Fortunately the chance paid off - she came out to the cafe to have drinks with a couple of her costars and was kind enough to come talk to us (after asking if we could talk in the bar so she could get a glass of wine of course 😂)

I have to tell you friends, I have very little recollection of what I said from this point forward lol. Truly talking to her was like having some kind of out of body experience. There were a couple of specific moments that are burned in my memory

I gave her the shawl I made for her, and she immediately flung it around her neck and wore it for the rest of the night *cue internal screaming and flailing*

When we told her we'd seen both shows that day, her response was "Oh god why?? It's bad enough having to be in it twice"

I don't know if she like bathes in the blood of children or something, but her skin is FLAWLESS. Literally she looks 10 years younger in person with no makeup on, its insane. Also her eyes are just as sparkly as you think they are, and when she makes eye contact it is A LOT

She asked if we all wanted to take a picture and proceeded to put her arm around me ☠️☠️☠️

She spent a good amount of time talking to us and was just as lovely, funny, and ridiculous as I could've hoped lol. In particular she mentioned how happy it makes her that Berena has taken on such a life beyond Holby and that we've all made such wonderful friends because of it.

After we let her go to talk to her cast mates, I somehow poured myself into a seat in the bar and someone got me a much needed gin as we all tried to unpack what had just happened. At some point she came back into the bar and went out of her way to come over and talk to us again (she basically appeared right next to me, and when I tell you the sheer relief that it was in the 30 seconds I wasn't spouting my usual girl crush bullshit about her 😅)

...

The rest of the trip was sub-optimal, bordering on karmic retribution lol. The tire on our rental car blew out on the M1 on our way back to London, and what should have been a 4 hour drive came out closer to 9, when all was said and done. At that point there was only time to eat, sleep, and catch the plane home

I may not have had as much time to see everyone and to spend in London as I had hoped, but I have zero regrets about the trip. It was truly a once in a lifetime experience and I'm so, so glad I went

And the most important life lesson:

[fancysasquatch]

I've decided to watch Gravity Falls, and I want to see if I can figure out the various mysteries without looking up any answers. I'm going to catalog my efforts to do that here on tumblr.

Going into this I've only seen two episodes back in like 2013 (the pilot and one where there's a pig) but I'm not totally in the dark about the show because there's a few things I've gleaned from cultural osmosis on tumblr. Namely, the bad guy is a pyramid man named Bill Cypher and also Grunkle Stan either has a twin or a clone, I'm unclear which.

I'm currently two episodes in and I've already discovered and cracked one secret code, and am keeping my eye on a couple other things. During the credits of episode one I noticed a string of garbage text, pictured below

Knowing this show's reputations I figured this might be a coded message, probably either a substitution or transposition cipher (since this was a code meant for children and those are "Baby's first cryptography" material). I put it in an anagram finder and got back 48 results that all contained the word "fjord" but none seemed like an actual message, so it probably wasn't a transposition cipher.

If it was a substitution cypher then there were three options that seemed the most likely to me. It was either a shifted alphabet (each letter in the message is shifted a certain amount up or down the alphabet, so A becomes B becomes C, or A becomes C and B becomes D, et cetera), a reverse alphabet (every letter is mirrored back to front, so ABC becomes ZYX) or a keyed alphabet (where every letter's replacement is randomly determined by a secret key).

If it was a keyed alphabet then I was out of luck for now, I would have to wait until either they reveal the key or I collected enough messages to brute force it. I tried a reverse alphabet first but it was still garbage text. So it was down to being one of 25 different shifted alphabet keys (unless it was multiple codes, like a reverse alphabet and a transposition, but I'd finish dealing with single codes first).

I could have tried each of the 25 possible shifts first, but that's a lot of work, so instead I focused on the two letter word. One of those two letters has to be a vowel, and there's only six vowels so that means 12 possible options. Only two of the options were real words. Shifting back two letters turned "wr" into "up" but the rest of the message was nonsense. Shifting it back three letters turned "wr" into "to," and applying that to the whole message made it read "Welcome to Gravity Falls."

With that code cracked, I moved on to episode 2. I hadn't paid much attention to the intro during the first episode but this time I paid closer attention, and noticed a few things (and then went back and confirmed they were the same in the first episode's intro).

In Dipper's title card there's some symbols on the wall that look like runes, but the only real rune is the third symbol. The others don't seem to appear in any actual runic or pseudo-runic alphabets I can find online. I'm going to be writing this off as purely decorative for now, but I'll keep an eye out in case these keep popping up as a symbolic alphabet, like the alien alphabet from Futurama.

At the very end of the intro this pops up for a split second. That guy in the middle is Bill Cypher, I already know he turns up later. I recognize several of the symbols surrounding him as being from the show. The shooting star is on Mabel's sweater, the handprint is on the cover of the book, the tree is on Dipper's hat, the lobster claw is on Grunkle Stan's hat, and the question mark is on Soos' shirt.

To the right there's a string of text which, when translated using the same alphabet shift code from above, reads "Stan is not what he seems." It also has the Konami code, which I'm just taking as an easter egg.

On the left there's a few possible number codes. In red it looks like something in binary but it's doesn't actually mean anything in binary. But if you convert it to morse code it could be either "sror" or "oksk." Using the same -3 shift, "sror" becomes "polo," which means nothing for now. Reverse alphabet shifting does nothing, I used an online tool to test every other alphabet shift but nothing came up. I don't even know where to begin working on the other two possible number codes.

The credits for the second episode had another hidden message. Using the -3 shift, it becomes "Next week: return to Butt Island."

[notmyiclea]

hello i need to, uh,,, vent online

Normally I'd just write about this in my journal. But that isn't enough right now. I want to post this online because it's exciting to think that it'll be seen and read by someone, anyone, and my emotions will be felt by someone other than myself.

tl;dr: I'm ready to spend my life with this man.

Over the last 3 months, I have been consistently experiencing the kind of love I've always dreamed of. I've had the grand honor of getting to know a man who is everything I could ever want. The kindest gentleman, the strongest provider, the [redacted for being nsfw], and the most romantic lover.

I met him during a time where I hated men. The men in my life at that time were toxic and selfish. I was being used and toyed with and unappreciated. I had been r**ed by someone I thought was my friend, and had since denounced intimacy and thought it would be literal years before I even considered dating again. I'd just removed them all from my life and was trying to focus on myself when we met. And, at first, I didn't even have a romantic interest in him. I admit that I felt an instant connection with him and wanted to know him better, but I didn't recognize it as attraction. It wasn't until our next chance encounter that I realized I had developed an interest.

He was different. I knew that the moment I first spoke to him. He was like me, and we got along easily. Yet, when we eventually admitted to having an interest in each other, I was hesitant. I was afraid that it wouldn't go well. I was skeptical. I was worried he might end up being like all the other men. But I decided to trust him. He had been so respectful in every interaction with me, even after I intentionally tried to get a rise out of him, so something in me knew it would be alright.

tl;dr for the remainder of this post - I think it could be summed up in this sentence he used a mere week after our first kiss, 3 days after our first date: "I'm definitely excited for our future."

If you're still reading, I imagine you're invested. So I feel comfortable telling you this: I genuinely believe this is it. I was locked in immediately. We went on one date and I knew I wouldn't want anyone else to have him. I could already see myself being upset if I ever saw him with another girl; I knew right away that I wanted him, forever.

So... It's been... REALLY hard... to be "normal" about it all. And he hasn't been helping. From the beginning, he's been doing and saying things that feed my resolve. Before we'd even kissed, I think even before acknowledging the mutual attraction, I'd borrowed a sweater of his and he joked about me "already stealing [his] hoodies". And he seemed to really want me to actually steal it lmao! Then after we began seeing each other, he made more and more jokes and comments that suggest he regularly thinks about a future with me. He's alluded to things like living together, buying land together, getting married, having children, growing old together. And I eat it up every single time. The most recent one happened this past weekend, where he pretended to be slipping a ring on my finger. We weren't even talking about it, and he didn't say anything as he did it. He just took my hand and made the gesture, and reveled in my immediate embarrassment as I pulled my hand away and hid my face while giggle-screaming once I realized what he was doing.

I love him so much, and I want to do everything I can to add to his happiness. I would do anything for him. I want to shower him with all the love and care and affection he could ever wish for. He hasn't been loved properly in the past, so it is my greatest honor to have this opportunity to show him how deserving he is of deep, divine love. It is my wish that he never spends a single day questioning my feelings for him. He treats me like a queen, an angel, a goddess, and I want to make sure he always knows how much I appreciate him and everything he does for me. He takes such beautiful care of me in every aspect, so it's only natural I care for him in return. Every single day, I am constantly thinking about how much he means to me and how extremely grateful I am to have met him. I am so blessed to have been placed in a position to cross paths with him. I am so thankful to the people in my life who made it possible. Fate was really looking out for me here, because it is absolutely wild that we even ended up meeting. All the different things that had to happen in order for this to come to fruition... Insane.

I know three months sounds like nothing, but this is truly everything I've ever wanted. "When you know, you know." 1.5 months after it started, I looked up a hundred accounts of people Knowing quickly and it working out well for them, just to try and not feel alone in my decision.

I'll stop here. It's only a fraction of everything I wish I had the time to put into words. Thank you to anyone who reads this. I am just so overwhelmed with emotion right now that I had to share it. I can't keep it to myself anymore.

[txmxkis]

Rinii, what do you think kuroo would say or react when reader starts feeling self-conscious about readers body, like if reader asks "am i getting fatter" or "do you think im fat?"

ohhhhhh i did not plan to do this but this is something that is so personal to me

warnings. gn!reader, fluffy and probably cheesy as always, chubby!reader is implied but i tried to keep it as inclusive as possible, reader is insecure. again, apparently i can only write self indulgent things my bad

you were supposed to be ready to leave the apartment half an hour ago. you weren't usually one to be late to anything, in fact it made you incredibly anxious when you were. however, today your insecurity outweighed your need to be punctual, and you just couldn't leave while looking like this.

actually, today you couldn't leave looking like anything. pieces of clothing lay strewn across the room, hangers discarded on the floor next to the closet. you had tried on every single one, and still there were none that looked flattering on you.

"oi! are you ready yet? i mean, take your time 'n everything, but technically we're late."

kuroo's voice calling from the other room pulls you out of your thoughts momentarily. he never rushes you, which is something you appreciate greatly. it helps that he knows you well enough to know that you would never be late without good reason.

"is there something i can help with orrrr?"

you could hear his voice getting closer and you really didn't want him to see you in this state right now.

he pokes his head past the doorframe and makes a noise of astonishment.

"a tornado go through here while i was gone or somethin'? or are you just trying to spontaneously reorganize things again."

you roll your eyes at that second thing.

"noooo, i just can't decide what to wear. nothing looks good on me today."

he's standing fully in the doorway now, hands in his pockets as he raises an eyebrow and looks you up and down.

"then wear nothing, it looks great on you."

he smirks and you make a futile attempt not to crack a smile as you feel your face start to burn. suddenly you're even more self conscious, so you grab the nearest piece of clothing to hold in front of you.

"tetsurou, i'm being serious! we needed to leave like forty minutes ago and i can't wear any of these clothes without looking-"

you stop yourself just before you could say fat. you hate giving the word a negative connotation. there's nothing wrong with being fat, nothing that should make you feel like this, anyway. like you wanted to crawl out of your skin. usually you were pretty neutral about your body, on very rare occasions could even love things about it. sometimes, it all catches up to you, though.

all the whispers in your head that come from no one but yourself, degrading you and making you feel worthless because of how you look. logically, you know those thoughts are complete and utter bullshit, but it's so hard to continuously fight against them. today, you're slipping a little.

"i know exactly what you're thinking over there. something about your clothes not fitting quite right and that somehow it makes you unloveable."

you don't even have time to pretend to be shocked that he knows you so well before he just keeps on going.

"well i've got news for you, babe, i've never seen you manage to look bad. i actually think it's impossible for you or something."

for a few moments too long, you just stand there gaping at him. he takes that as his cue to walk towards you, remove the sweater that you've been using as a shield, and toss it off to the side.

"there. better."

you finally snap out of it and smack him on the arm, but before you can pull away, he catches your wrist. he brings it up to his lips slowly, and kisses right where your pulse is probably hammering away at the moment, locking eyes with you as he does.

how are you ever supposed to argue with him if he keeps stunning you into silence?

"i don't think you'll ever understand how much i love you, doesn't matter if you change physically or not. and it doesn't matter what you wear either, so can you pleaseeee put on something so we can go. we both know you'll look perfect in anything."

"ugh, fine! but you get to help me pick."

he rubs his hands together with a devious grin, and you know he'll be grabbing the most revealing thing he can find. you know him well, too, after all.

"something appropriate."

"awww, damn."

[hops-hunny]

Just a Flight Away

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Ilvermony!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Request N/A

Summary: Neville has a cutie who lives in America but no one seems to believe him.

Warnings: None! 

A/N: This isn’t a request but it’s based off of me rambling here and slightly off of the vibe telepatia by Kali Uchis gives off.

If there was one thing Neville was thankful was it was the absolute goddess he got to call his girlfriend. It was funny the way they first began talking to one another. (Y/n) had been trying to contact a friend at Hogwarts but after the long trip from Ilvermony to Hogwarts, her owl was quite exhausted and ended up bringing the letter to Neville instead. Neville saw the poor bird, giving it a bit of bird seed and water that he kept in the green house before he set off to find the rightful owner of the letter. Luckily he had 3rd period with the girl who thanked him before excitedly yanking the letter from his hands. When Neville went to go check on the owl, he saw that it had already left, leaving a heart shape in the bird seed.

After that day, Neville hadn’t really thought about the incident that much. Well, that was until he saw the same owl fly towards him with a letter in its mouth. He smiled fondly at it rubbing under its chin with his finger before going to give the letter back to the owl until he noticed it had his name on it.  He ripped it open, careful to not damage the envelope before reading the letter.

Dear Neviile,

Thank you so so so much for getting the letter to Gwen! Gwen is a good friend of mine who I had been missing dearly and if not for your kindness she would have never received my letter. 

As you may be able to tell from the seal on the letter, I attend Ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry. I've heard of how grand and great the infamous Hogwarts is, is it true? How is England in general? I've never had the pleasure of traveling out of America.

Oh yes! The main point of this is as a thank you, I've attached a package of my favorite American sweets as a token of my gratitude. The package is enchanted which is why it's so small. To restore it to its original state, place it on a flat surface before tapping it with the tip of your wand.

Sincerely,

(Y/n) (L/n)

Neville felt his face grow warm at the girl's kindness. (Y/n). 'What a beautiful name..' he thought to himself before pulling out the galleon sized package from the envelope. He pushed aside a few plants on the table in front of it before placing the package down, tapping the top with his wand. He gasped, watching in amazement as he saw the package expand. Neville wasn't quite familiar with this enchantment, perhaps he'd ask her about it in his response. His cheeks turned a brighter red. Response?

Did she want to speak to him more? He didn't want to assume but by her letter and her asking questions, it made it clear that this wasn't the last exchange she wanted to have. Was this a prank? Were the Weasley twins up to this? There was only one way to tell. Neville reached a shaky hand forward, opening the package as he closed his eyes expecting something to pop out at him but when he opened his eyes there was nothing but a box of snacks he had never seen before. He let out a sigh of relief, ignoring the racing in his heart.

After that, Neville and the girl started to talk quite a bit. Months had turned into years and he couldn't have been happier. It felt nice to have someone he could talk to, someone far away from all the hustle and bustle of the castle. To her he wasn't the kid with unfortunate luck or the "cowardly" boy in Gryffindor. He was just Neville, her boyfriend. Neville, her kind boyfriend in another continent, far away. 

(Y/n) loved Neville just as much. It wasn't that she never had suitors approach her. In fact, she had quite a few. (Y/n) was what you could consider popular, not that she cared. She was kind, smart, and beautiful. Who wouldn't want that? However, she always felt like none of the men who'd approach her got her. They all just saw her as a beautiful woman instead of what she was, a normal girl deserving of love. That's why she liked Neville so much. No matter what he always treated her with the utmost respect and that hadn't stopped when they started to date either. 

When the two had first exchanged photos, Neville was stunned. He had been talking to that beautiful of a girl? He couldn’t believe it. It was as if Olivander himself had sculpted and carved her out of the best of wood. She had glowing (s/c) skin, soft healthy looking (h/c) (h/c) hair, and a smile that could compete with the sun on its brightest of days and win. And when he found out she was single? He would’ve been a fool not to make a move. Angels as sweet as (Y/n) didn’t come around that often. 

And although their relationship was as great as can be there was the underlying sadness: they lived across the world from one another. Every time either of them would see a couple hug or kiss in school, they’d feel a twinge of jealousy pierce their hearts. It wasn’t fair that the most perfect person in the world was off enjoying themselves in their respective countries. Although (Y/n) tried to ignore it, Neville was the type to bring it up. He’d describe in the most beautiful of words what he’d do if they were together. How he’d hold her in his arms and show her off to all of his friends. Where he’d take her on a date, the plants he wanted to show her as they were both herbology geeks. Meanwhile she’d end each of the letters discussing this topic with the same phrase as usual. ‘You know I’m just a flight away. If you wanna I could take a private plane.’ He could never ask that of her though. As much as he’d love everyday to be filled with his flower, he wouldn’t wanna rip her away from the things she had going on in her own life.

It wasn’t all bad though! After the girl had taught him the charm she used when she first sent him something, they both would send each other gifts back and forth as much as possible. Neville sent her sweaters with his scent embedded, charmed flowers, chocolate frogs, anything she wanted was hers. She’d send her own things to remind him of her as well. Her favorite stuffed animal, loads of photographs, little crochet hats she made for Trevor, more...unsavory things as well definitely not her underwear. Despite the increase in objects Neville owned, none of his friends had questioned it until he started to wear a necklace with a heart shaped piece of onyx on it with the letter (Y/f/i) carved into it.

“Oi! Neville. Where’d you get that necklace from?” Ron questioned his friend who sat across from him in the Gryffindor common room. The boys had all decided to study together which of course turned into Neville studying as they goofed off. Neville tensed as his cheeks heated up turning a pink color.

“O-oh um..it’s from my girlfriend.” He said, saying the last word as soft as possible. He prayed to Merlin that his friends hadn’t heard him but unfortunately for him they had. It wasn’t that he didn’t want anyone to know about her. It was far from that. He was just a bit protective, he didn’t want anyone to try and steal her from him. Even though it was impossible since they had no contact with her, he never knew when it came to his friends. They always found a way to make the impossible possible.

“What year is she in?!”

“Who is it?!”

“No way, is she fit?!”

He finished at the chorus of voices, trying to calm them down so he could speak. They all scooted closer to him, looking up at him expectantly. “Well you see..” he trailed off, looking away as he played with the pendant around his neck. “She doesn’t go here. She attends school in Ilvermorny. But to answer your question, yeah she is bloody fit.” he responded, turning his attention back to the scroll of paper in front of him. Dean, Ron, and Seamus exchanged a look with each other trying to suppress their laughs.

“Yeah I’m sure she does Nev.” Dean said sarcastically as he joined the other two in laughter. Neville looked up at his friends confused at their behavior.

“Yeah Nev, if your nan sent it you could’ve just told us! Better than saying you’ve got a girl halfway across the world.” Ron said, pushing the boy slightly as he continued to laugh at him. Seamus was doubled over, snorting with laughter as fire whiskey shot from his nose causing the other two to howl with laughter.

“It’s not from my nan! My girlfriend really did send it to me.” he exclaimed, smacking Ron on the back of the head, before doing the same to the other two men. “Besides, you have some fucking nerve accusing me of lying when none of you have birds yourself.” he sneered, causing the boys to quiet down some.

“So harsh Neville, you didn’t have to go there mate! Well what’s this ‘girlfriend’ of yours called.” Seamus asked, doing air quotes as he mentioned the topic at hand. “You’d think it was a bit strange too if your friend suddenly mentioned a girlfriend who lived all the way in the states too wouldn’t you.”

“(Y/n). And I’ll have you know this isn’t a new thing. We’ve been dating since around 2nd year. Sure, I’d find it a bit strange if you mentioned a girlfriend in America that you had never brought up prior, but I wouldn’t find it impossible! Now if you excuse me, I have to go.” he quickly stood up, packing up his materials as he stormed off to the direction of his dorm. He sped up, ignoring the protest and begging of his friends to come back and continue to hang out with them. He had enough of them and he wasn’t gonna sit there and let himself be called a fucking liar by Hogwart’s biggest ones.

--------------------------------------------

“Did you guys hear? Students from Ilvermony are supposed to be coming to visit!” Ron said, running up to the other four boys. “I’m just picturing how hot all the girls from the states are gonna be. All hot and leggy with those bloody accents. I could combust just thinking of it!” he exclaimed, flopping down on the couch. Neville gasped softly, looking up. Did he hear him correctly? 

“Where’d you hear that from? I didn’t hear anything of the sorts.” Hermione questioned, looking up from her book at the interesting news she had just heard. However, Neville was still frozen. Was this true? And if so, why hadn’t (Y/n) mentioned it. No, no it couldn’t be. She surely would have told him.

“I just overheard it from Dumbledore himself. They should be arriving in a few minutes! They’re staying here for a few months. It’s a part of this new thing that they’ve set up. Something about wanting the students to learn different methods and what not. They decided it’d be a good idea since summer is coming soon.” he said nonchalantly, looking over at Neville who hadn’t moved since the news left his mouth. He went to question what was up with him before his eyes lit up, recalling the conversation they had a few months ago. “Hey Neville? Didn’t your supposed ‘girlfriend’ go to Ilvermony.” the boys all suddenly interested began to ‘ooo’ exchanging looks with each other.

“See Neville, this is why you don’t lie. Lies will always come back to bite you in the rear. Perhaps Ronald i-”

“I wasn’t lying, Hermione! She really does go to Ilvermony.” he exclaimed, standing up as he wiped his hands on his pants. All of a sudden, there were the sounds of a bunch of American accents speaking which caught all of their attention. Many different students in Ilvermorny uniforms (some without them) roamed freely to explore the large and intense castle.

“God you weren’t kidding Ron, the girls are bloody fit.” Dean muttered, eyeing some girl who gave him a wink before giggling and running off with her friends. “Woah look at that one, are you kidding me? She’s a fucking goddess!” Neville’s curious hazel eyes followed his friend's words as he saw a familiar shade of (h/c) hair styled in the way his girlfriend wore it. Wait, was that his sweater? 

“That’s not just some fucking girl, that’s my girlfriend!” Neville exclaimed, standing up from his seat.

“No chance.”

“You couldn’t pick a more believable one?”

“Prove it then.”

Neville went to say something before the girl turned around, locking eyes with him. She gasped, tearing up some as she pushed through the crowd of people running to him as quickly as possible. “Nev! Neville babe, is that you?” she exclaimed. Neville’s face flushed brightly taking in the girl’s appearance. She had worn the first sweater he had given her, a mossy green sweater with an obscure pattern, with a pleated skirt pairing it with a pair of boots. Neville nodded his head quickly, holding his arms out as the girl ran into him almost knocking him over. He picked her up, spinning her around quickly before setting her down, holding her soft face between his hands.

“W-what are you doing here?! You never told me you were coming to visit!” he exclaimed, wiping at the stray tears that had left her eyes. He moved his hands from her face securing them around her waist as he stared down at her. God she was even more beautiful in person.

“I wanted to surprise you! I actually found out a few weeks ago and let me tell ya, it was SO hard not to tell you!” She giggled, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He leaned into her touch, smiling at her. “I didn’t think it was possible for you to get even more handsome but bloody hell. You’re so fucking hot, Nev.” she said, feeling her face heat up. Neville flushed a bright red before leaning down, kissing the girl on the lips. She pulled him down more, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed back. The kiss was full of the love and affection they had both been craving from one another. (Y/n) tangled her hands in the back of his hair as he deepened the kiss, moaning softly. They both jumped away from one another at the sound of someone clearing their throat. “Ah sorry! Nev, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” she asked looking up at him as she intertwined his large hand with her smaller one.

“I suppose I will, even though for some reason they thought you weren’t real.” he quipped, glaring at the four boys who looked away ashamed. “From left to right there is Harry, Ron, Dean, and Seamus. And over there,” he said pointing to the big arm chair in the corner. “That is Hermione.” he said as they all muttered ‘hi’ and ‘sorry’ from some of them. (Y/n) giggled some, waving at them all.

“It’s very nice to meet you all! Nev talks about you guys all the time in his letters. Oh!” She said, eyes looking at his chest. She reached a hand forward, grabbing the engraved onyx in her hands. “The necklace I gave you!! You like it? I think it looks really good on you.” she exclaimed with a smile, happy her boyfriend enjoyed the gift she gave him. Neville once again looked at his friends chuckling some at their wide eyes.

“Of course I do, petal. I wear it everyday, everywhere I go. Right guys.” he teased, watching as they all stuttered out ‘yes ‘yep’ ‘sure does. “Come on flower, I’ll show you around the castle. I know you’ve been looking forward to that for a while. Also, you look quite cute in my sweater.”

“Thank you. I wear it quite often, even though the smell of you has worn off it still brings me good memories.” she said, playing with the slightly worn out sleeves of the sweater. “I’d love to!! Can we check out the greenhouse first? I wanna see that plant you were talking about. Maybe we can work on identifying what species it is!” he nodded in response, taking her hand once again as they began to walk off. Before they turned the corner, he quickly turned his head around using his unoccupied hand to flip off his friends before turning his attention back to his lover.

“Who would’ve thought? Longbottom with an absolute fox.” Ron said, slumping back down as he frowned. Hermione took the book she was reading smacking him upside the head.

“Maybe if you knew how to treat women you’d be with one too.”

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | Chapter Three

Chapter Three

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers

word count: 2.8k

from the beginning <3

Y/N set him up with a pair of her father's old pyjamas, giving him a spare room to sleep in for the night instead of the couch, she figured he'd need privacy in the morning and not a 7-year-old attacking him at the crack of dawn. He was so grateful for their day together, hugging her goodnight and slipping away into the room to think about everything.

He took a moment to just sit on the bed, looking around at how she decorated. It was pretty plain, just a bed and some light green walls. Books gaining dust in the corner, clothes and blankets folded on top of the dresser against the wall, the only personality was the photo on the night table and the quilt on the bed.

There was a reason it wasn’t used anymore. The photo on the table was of her grandparent's wedding, it was black and white and older than him. They looked happy and in love, her grandmother was a spitting image of her, no wonder they were so close.

It made him feel a little emotional to know he was in this room. The memories it had with her, the connection to her grandma that she clearly wanted to keep. Otherwise, this room would be used for something other than housing the man they met at the park for a single night.

She was trusting him in this space, leaving him alone for the night to deal with his brain on hyperdrive, giving him the opportunity to stare at the ceiling as he remembered the day in glorious detail.

Drifting off into a peaceful slumber quicker than he figured he would.

—

He awoke to the feeling of someone holding his face, the soft touch of flesh on his cheeks. He fluttered his eyes open into the early morning sunshine, “good morning cutie,” Y/N whispered.

“Am I dead?”

She smiles as she laughs, leaning down to press her forehead against his shoulder, he wraps his arms around her on instinct, holding her as close as the night before.

“You looked like an angel,” he whispers an explanation.

She pulled back then, returning her hand to his face as she looked at him, “you’re beautiful in the mornings too.”

“What time is it?”

“7:30,” she confirmed with a small smile. “Amoreena is feeding the baby goats with her poppy, she’ll be in for breakfast in a few minutes if you want some cereal. My grandpa’s stuff is in the closet if you wanted something cozy, it’s a foggy one out there.”

He was so in love with her at that moment, nothing but happiness and wonderful words left her mouth. She was more euphoric to him than any drug, rushing more serotonin to his brain than any one-night stand managed to do, and he hasn’t even kissed her yet.

He noticed then she was in her pyjamas, a cute nightgown like his own mother would wear when he was a kid. Cows jumping over the moon displayed on the chest, it was adorable. She was everything to him.

“I’ll see you downstairs?” She says as she stands, removing her hand from his face as her fingers lingers on his skin, he didn’t want her to leave.

“Yeah,” he smiled, watching her leave as he sat up.

He put his slacks back on making sure he had his lactose pills in the pocket, a red sweater from the closet and a brown ranch hat. Wanting to fit the part of Farmhand while he was with them, and to see if it would make Amoreena laugh at him.

He kept a travel toothbrush in his satchel for times when he was sleeping in places he didn’t belong. Using the bathroom and making himself look as presentable as possible, he really, really wanted them to like him enough to keep him around.

Y/N was packing Amoreena’s lunch in the kitchen when he finally wandered in, taking a moment to look at what he was wearing. She smiled at him, placing her hand on her heart, “My grandpa loved that hat, you look great.”

“Thank you,” he says softly as he takes a seat at the counter, watching her carefully cut the crust off a sandwich.

She has a special sandwich cutter, pressing it into the bread and revealing the two dinosaur-shaped halves. Putting them in a little baggie and adding them to her pile of healthy snacks in Amoreena's lunch box.

“You’re the best mother,” the compliment rolling off his tongue without his permission.

She blushed lightly, “thank you, I try.”

Like a herd of elephants, Amoreena was running up the porch steps and swinging the door open, causing the chimes to bang off the wood before it eventually smacked the house.

“Gentle!” Y/N called down the hallway, “don’t get mud on the floor.”

Amoreena took her boots off neatly, hanging up her coat and cowboy hat before joining Spencer at the counter. “Good morning, Spencer!”

“How’s the kingdom this morning?” He asks out of pure curiosity, greeted with the purest response from her.

Amoreena’s eyes lit up like she didn’t expect him to believe in her fantasy world. What she didn't know was how easy it was for him to call this the kingdom, a far off land of true freedom and happiness. It was a little perfect world that didn’t feel real to him yet.

“It’s great, you’re so nice,” she sighed, laying her head on the counter. “Can I have some lucky charms?”

Y/N smiled, “sure, you know where all the bowls are big kid.”

Amoreena stormed around the kitchen, pulling out two bowls and spoons, not asking if Spencer wanted any but placing a bowl in front of him any way. “You need breakfast, it’s important.”

“Of course, Lady Amoreena,” he said softly, digging the pill from his pocket and placing it on the placemat. “Can I have something to drink?”

“Orange or apple?” Y/N smiled, opening the fridge door and waiting for his choice.

“Orange, please.”

“See,” Y/N looked at Amoreena, “even adults use manners.”

It made him laugh as she rolled her eyes at her mother with a fake sigh. It was nice to see that they had a mutual respect that was strong enough to play around like that, It was admirable to see them be friends, not just family.

“I’m going to get changed for the day,” Y/N announced then as Amoreena got situated back at the counter. “Be good, shout for me if you need me.”

Then it was just him and Amoreena eating cereal in silence.

She picked out all the marshmallows first, eating them before the cereal, and then finally drinking all the milk from the bowl, he has never seen a kid eat that fast.

“Was it good?” He laughed to himself, watching her wipe her mouth on her pyjama sleeve.

“The best,” she smiled back at him. “Are you going to be here a lot?”

“I don’t know yet,” he was honest. “But I’d like to be.”

“It would be nice, I've never had a dad,” she said it like it was nothing. Like the weight of the words weren’t supposed to knock the wind out of him.

“You know,” he speaks before he even thinks it over. “I never had a dad either, my mom raised me all by herself. She's my best friend in the whole world, she is the reason I love books and why I love the world, you’re lucky to have someone who has a heart big enough to love you for both parents.”

“You’re lucky too then,” she smiled back. “But you’d still make a good dad regardless.”

“Thanks,” he whispered, smiling softly as she put her bowl away and ran up the stairs.

—

Amoreena gave him a big hug at the bus stop, waving to him from the window as he stood with Y/N at the end of the driveway, his phone non-stop vibrating in his back pocket trying to take him away from the most perfect moment in his whole existence.

He finally looked at it when the bus pulled away, 8 texts from Penelope and 4 calls from Derek. It looks like they all knew he quit, and they want to see if he was okay. He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket, taking Y/N’s hand instead, walking back to her house.

“I called to take the day off when I was changing, told them Amoreena got me sick,” she says lightly as she bumps her shoulder into his.

She was now wearing a light green sundress, it flows in the breeze as she walks, stepping in front of him to skip lightly, twirling around as they walk, she makes him smile uncontrollably. Then she’s letting go of his hand and running off into the field, Spencer chasing after her cautiously. Rubber soles of his shoes slipping on the dewy grass as he follows.

There’s an open field behind the barn, cows wandering around the far edges as the fog starts to settle its war with the sunshine. She stops then, catching her breath and waiting for Spencer with an arm out for him to walk into her embrace.

Holding him in the sunshine in the middle of her kingdom.

“Whatever the light touches is yours,” she whispered the words from the lion king, “If you’d like to be mine?”

He wanted to answer, but his phone wouldn’t stop buzzing against her hip. She reaches into his pocket and takes the phone out, answering it without breaking eye contact.

“Ex fed, Spencer Reid’s phone,” she smiled.

“who is this?” A males voice asked.

“Spencer’s girlfriend,” she answered, “he’s fine. If you’d like to see for yourself and join us for tea in the garden?”

“Um, sure, you’re at some farm right?”

She looked at Spencer confused, “yes?”

“We’re pulling up now.”

“What?” Y/N turned around as she noticed the line went dead, a car rolling down the driveway and following the path all the way towards the barn.

“FBI remember,” he laughed. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she leaned in and kissed him softly, he held her there for a moment, knowing his friends would be staring at the display of affection they were putting on.

He almost wished he could have seen it from their point of view. How she pulled him in, dipping under his hat, holding his cheeks in her hands as she pressed her lips to his softly. The view behind them was impeccable, the fields of wheat blowing in the early sunlight as he held her hips.

When she pulled away he could swear he saw a halo around her head, smiling at him with love in her eyes, matching his own. He pushed his hat up as he rested his forehead on hers, “I’ll be yours.”

“I figured,” she smiled, taking his hand and walking with him towards his friends.

“Hi,” he waved at them.

“What has happened in the last week since we’ve spoken?” Derek didn’t skip a beat, holding his arms out as he shook his head.

Penelope rushed around the car towards him, “why did you quit?”

“I’ll go put on some tea, meet me out back?” Y/N said softly, tapping his shoulder as she slipped out of his grasp and passed them all.

“I can’t do it anymore and you know why,” Spencer whispers. “I’m done, Derek, I need a life, a family, something to make me actually want to get up in the morning before I whiter away to nothing.”

“Okay,” he nods, reaching out to pull him into a hug, “you deserve that.”

Penelope hugged him too, the both of them wrapping their arms around him in the middle of Y/N’s land, he knew they’d understand. He just wish they all didn’t have to feel like this, like he was letting them down.

“Come on, you’re going to love Y/N,” he changed the subject, fixing his hat again as Derek laughed at him.

“Since when did you want to be a farmer?” Penelope teased him.

“Cowboys are like FBI agents right?” He smiles, leading them towards Y/N’s backyard. “Um, seriously though, I met her at the park on Saturday.”

“It’s Monday…” Derek added in a concerned tone.

“I know, it’s insane but we’re both tired of waiting for the right time, so we’re making it the right time, she has a kid and a life and she works at a library, she’s calm and beautiful and everything I need,” Spencer explains, stopping abruptly so that Y/N wouldn’t be able to hear him. “Fuck it, y’know?”

Derek’s face lit up, Penelope shook his arm as she giggled, “yes! I support this, fuck it and be happy.”

“Way to go pretty boy,” Derek patted his back, “I always knew you’d do it.”

It was nice to introduce them, Y/N sat close to Spencer as she learned all about the last 15 years of his life. Funny stories like the time they scared him in the dark at a crime scene, how nervous he used to be, even showing Y/N photos of him from over the years with the weirdest haircuts, she couldn't believe how cute he used to be. Gushing to his friends about how perfect their weekend together had been so far.

He got to know her more than too, learning with Penelope and Derek as she shared parts of her life. She was only 35, she actually has 7 siblings who have so far produced 4 nephews and 11 nieces for her, Amoreena being the oldest of the bunch. She’s lived here since she was a baby, born in the room she sleeps in actually.

Her whole life existed in this kingdom full of love and life. She had a huge family and enough love to keep it growing forever, it was her perfect world and now it’s his too.

It was the best morning of his life, watching his best friends and the women he knew was going to become the love of his life, mingle so gleefully. They were all free now, living in the real world where things were good and happy.

He wanted to stay there forever, but they decided to head out around 9:30, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone in the backyard finally. He turned his phone off then, tossing it onto the table and pulling her into his lap.

“I think we need to talk about this,” he said softly.

“About what?”

“How it’ll work, the rules for me being around Amoreena, I don’t want to jump right into stepdad mode and piss you off or be too distant and make you think I don’t want to be here,” he worried out loud. Giving her a glimpse into his mind and how it worked.

“I don’t mind you falling into the role of her father, you are a lot like Steven,” she looked at him softly as she spoke, her fingers trailing along his jaw lightly.

“Her father?”

“I tell people that yeah, but I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, not a care in the world about who he really was.

“You’re a literal ray of sunshine,” the words fell from his tongue.

“I don’t like being unhappy, so I choose not to be,” she admits, biting the inside of her cheek as she smiled at him. “And I think I’d be the happiest with you.”

“I'm glad you feel it too,” he whispers, leaning in and pressing his lips against hers again, softly as the first time.

“I’m also scared,” her words touch his lips ever so softly, “I’ve already lost too many people, please don’t leave me.”

“My girlfriend died in front of me,” the words are harsher than he expected them to be. but she had to know that he understood. Loving someone, planning a life with them, and watching them get ripped out of existence is the hardest thing someone could recover from, but they were doing it.

She pauses, “so you know what it’s like?”

He can only nod, “I understand wanting to keep something special and safe and failing.”

“Seconds are just as good as firsts," she whispers, leaning in close enough to kiss him. Resting her forehead against his, "if not better because you value what it can become.”

“I’m falling in love with you,” he announces without a second thought.

“Good,” she finally kisses him, resting her lips against his lightly before speaking again, "because I think I fell in love with you a few days ago."

He can't help but kiss her again and again, holding her in his lap as he spread kisses over her face. Her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, the tip of her nose, both eyelids and finally her perfect lips. It's soft and gentle like the first one, holding him softly as their lips brushed together.

Kissing in the sunshine for as long as they wanted without a single distraction or care in the world. She was exceptional, her life was perfect, he was so unbelievably happy to be sharing it with her. To be granted access to the happiest place on earth, his own little slice of Heaven with the two angels that kept it running.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Book Drop Boy (Twice x Reader)

✧ pairing: library student worker!Twice x afab!student!Reader

✧ word count: 9.9k

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, maladaptive daydreaming (twice), twice is chaotic af, commits library related crimes, use of the term sweetheart a few times, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, doggy style, afab terms, no pronouns for reader, gratuitous swearing this is potentially the softest thing I've ever written, like she's pretty tame idk what Twice does to me

✧ summary: In which Twice learns that sometimes dreams do come true, except those dreams are just the maladaptive fantasies of a broke library receptionist and, while sexy, also involve more fraud than he expected.

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, this is set in the same universe as my shiggy college piece, but you don't need to have read that. There are some fun little easter eggs though if you have tho. This is like the most tame thing I've ever written and it's way longer than it was meant to be but oh well. Anyway, Twice deserves some love. Enjoy <3

Logically, Jin was aware you probably had no idea who the fuck he was.

But that really didn’t have any effect on the wildly intricate fantasy life he had created for the two of you during his long shifts behind the library reception desk. That, in fact, was the only reason he hadn’t up and quit just to save himself the embarrassment of another loud outburst in the middle of the most silent place on campus.

What was truly more shocking was the fact that none of those said outburst had gotten his ass kicked straight out the door.

But he held out.

If only for you.

Late nights or lazy afternoons you were always in the campus library—studying he assumed or…

'Studying,' because a lot of the time he noticed you’d show up with a drink from the cafe a few blocks down, set out a line of colored pens and not touch a single one of them for hours, content to stare blankly at the chipped desktop. And even that Jin was more than happy to watch.

He did a lot of watching.

Mostly because he wasn’t permitted to leave the desk unattended unless there were piling up returned books which needed to be replaced quickly.

So instead, he pretended to be busy scrolling through something on his old as hell monitor—which was conveniently set up directly across from the comfy chair/desk combo you always managed to grab—and he indulged in day dreams where you’d bring him a coffee from the cafe when you came in and set it on his desk, maybe kiss him on the cheek, maybe loiter by his workstation and play with his hair and—

Yeah.

It was a lot.

But you were always in that chair, always working or pretending to work and you never seemed to notice the uninterrupted hours of staring Jin did, so what was the harm?

If you never knew, you’d never get creeped out—cause it was creepy, he knew that, oh fuckin' boy did he know it was real goddamn weird.

He just couldn’t seem to give it up. Especially when the conditions presented perfectly for some good uninterrupted, totally not stalker-y at all, fantasizing.

Sometimes he thought you might have some mundane superpower that let you always snatch that perfect seat right across from his computer, and made it so the library was just cool enough that he’d get to watch you shrug on that cute extra sweatshirt you always brought. So he could catch a glimpse of some skin—in a totally normal and not invasive way—when your arms went over your head. So he could imagine it was his ratty old sweaters you were wearing just so you could smell him on you and god he really wanted to get close enough to smell you—was that too weird? No. Yes? No.

Not at all.

But the best part, the part that really convinced him on those awful days when he really just could not be bothered to drag himself out of bed and walk the couple blocks to campus just to sit in awful silence alone, in his head alone with the fucking thoughts that made him want to rip his hair out—

What made it worth it was those times every few weeks when your classes would get new assigned readings. Because then you’d have to check out new textbooks, since you were one of those geniuses that had figured out the library kept a ton of those books in stock. Of course you were, cause you were fucking perfect.

And when you had to check out new books, you had to come to reception.

Jin got to watch as your lovely figure moved through the stacks like you were ballroom dancing along the halls of faded, sea-green shelves, almost floating over the linoleum trying to find just the right volume in the right addition before anyone else beat you to it.

It was one of the most gorgeous things he’d ever seen.

Spinner would call him a fucking simp if he ever dared to uttered any of that out loud, but it didn’t matter.

If it was you, he’d simp for fucking life.

And then, you’d walk that fucking glorious ass over to his desk and plop the books down, smiling—cause you were polite like that, so fucking perfect he couldn’t hardly believe it sometimes—and asking how his day was while he checked you out in every sense of the phrase.

In a completely platonic and not freaky way.

So Jin kept coming to work, to that god awful job he really hated and which hated him just as vehemently. He clocked in every day and waited patiently like a fucking puppy counting the hours till its workaholic owner arrived home, ears perking up when you walked through the door and flashed your ID to the attendant.

If only for that.

He’d put up with his boss’ complaints and the weird stares he got when the thoughts just wouldn’t stay in his head anymore and he had to start talking to himself to fill the silence.

If only for that.

Those few hours when he could lose himself in the fake inner life where you were waiting for him when his shift let out, waiting to gather him, tired and understimulated, into your arms. Where you’d sneak into the back room with him just to chat and lace your fingers with his and maybe sit that fucking wonderful ass up on the tables so he could stand in between your thighs and you’d pull him down to—

Yeah.

That was enough.

***

It wasn’t until Tuesday when he had to come in again that week, and he already knew it was gonna suck balls.

Friday he’d gotten another round of complaints from some stuck up fucking business students—it was always the fucking business majors with those silver spoons so far up their asses—snitching to his boss that he’s been ‘disruptive’ and ‘disturbing’ during his last shift.

“Not my fucking fault,” he muttered under his breath, kicking a rock along the side walk he’d picked up two blocks before. “Yes it is. No it’s not!”

Jin groaned and tugged at his hair, wishing he’d brought a Tylenol or something to curb the headache that was already sticking it’s ugly ass claws into his temples. He really, really heavily contemplated just ditching, calling in sick or some shit. Technically he was a student worker, so they had to work with his DRS accommodation and he was actually having a bad fucking time.

But one of his friends had already texted to ask if he’d try and reserve them that sweet ass study room on the third floor and Jin wasn’t really looking to disappoint anyone else this week. Besides, it was fun to abuse his minuscule power. Fun to go corrupt for once. Fight the system and all that.

He liked to think you’d be proud of him for it, based on the kinds of texts you checked out at least.

So, he dragged his sad ass back to the looming library looking far too much like a prison than was necessary and clocked in. Actually, the first thing he did was check the chair—your chair and nobody else’s chair, he might actually make a fucking scene if somebody ever did steal it—and his face visibly fell when you were not occupying it.

It was a bit early, Jin supposed as he paused briefly when he noticed the can of Monster and rando vending machine chips sitting next to it by the reception computer. The sticky note slapped to the top read 'For your troubles' in familiar handwriting and that pulled a bit of a smile from him as he quickly rearranged the scheduling of study room sign ups so the fancy third floor room would be free for the rest of the night.

Then Jin sat, staring at the study room schedules for a moment, feeling his eyes softly glaze over until a hand slapped down on the raised lip of the reception desk.

“Hey bro,” Spinner greeted him with a wild smile and a flurry of bright pink hair.

Jin had to blink a few extra times to get his vision to clear. When it did he saw, horrifyingly, that he’d been staring at the fucking blank screen for two hours without moving.

Why was it that his head was either deadly quiet, devoid of even a single errant thought or so loud as fucking shit at all times that he couldn’t physically keep the thoughts in?

“Hey, dude, what’s up?” Jin asked, running a hand through his unruly hair.

“Aren’t you supposed to like shush me or something?”

Spinner chuckled a bit at his own god awful joke and Jin couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed, too glad for the company.

“I mean,” he shrugged, popping the can of Monster and ignoring the dirty looks he got for the sound. “I would if I was, uh, good at my job.”

“Which I’ve heard you definitely are not,” Spinner wrapped his fingers over the lip of the desk and leaned back on his heels, swaying side to side idly.

“You’re just figuring that out now?”

Jin didn’t bother watching while Spinner nearly tripped over himself fidgeting as he spun to stand at the little gate that corralled Jin inside like livestock. He was too busy glancing over to check you hadn’t slipped in while his brain had taken a trip to the astral plane without him.

“No, I been knew, but my sources tell me you’ve gone off the rails my friend,” long legs stepped over the wooden partition until the only friend he had who was quite possibly more annoying than Jin himself was sat on the counter next to his computer. “Finally been radicalized have you?”

Jin huffed and sipped his Monster, “Guess it fuckin’ took me long enough.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Spinner was messing about with the stacks of multicolored sticky notes littered across the desk before glancing up to wink at Jin. “So what can I get you to do for me in exchange for free food?”

“Now I really am gonna fucking shush you,” Jin smashed his finger against Spinners grin only to get a hand covered in spit for his trouble.

“Right, right,” Spinner held his hands up in defeat, “can’t have you cheating on your sweetheart.”

“Not my—yes I’m in a committed fictional relationship thank you very much—ugh!”

Jin could feel the heads shooting up from laptop screens and textbooks to stick daggers in his back with their angry stares. Spinner at least had the good sense to look a little fucking guilty for egging him on.

“Sorry bro, I had to shoot my shot ya know?” a hand disappeared into the mop of bubblegum locks in apology.

“It’s fine…” Jin trailed off, mumbling and blushing more than a little profusely as he turned to check the book drop box. “Not like I’m ever gonna fuckin’ shoot mine anyway.”

“Oh we are not gonna have that kinda of shit discussion,” Spinner’s hand shot out and grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, spinning Jin in his chair. “On god bro, we’re gonna get you a date one of these days.”

Jin didn’t dignify that kind of lie with a response.

Spinner once again, had the good sense to not push the envelope any farther.

“And in the meantime, you can come to the League meeting tonight!”

“Your gaming club thing?”

“Yeah, it’s Smash night and we need to fill a space sooooo…”

Jin knew Spinner and his roommate—the same friend who he’d gone study room rogue for—had started a gaming club their freshman year. Spinner had been trying to strong arm him into attending ever since. To, as he put it, ‘socialize,’ and ‘make new friends.’ All things which Jin was patently horrible at and avoided like the plague.

Needless to say, he’d refused every time.

It wasn’t just the whole being alone with like two people he kinda knew in a room full of strangers. Games themselves were just a lot for him. The flashing colors and the loud noises made his head—which was already so fucking full all the time and he really needed to keep any extra scrap of space for extra random facts he picked up about you and your future married life together—get a bit misaligned.

They just weren’t his jam most of the time.

“I’m good, thanks for the offer though,” Jin twisted out of Spinner’s grasp and craned his head to check your seat again.

Still empty.

He sighed.

Spinner continued to ramble and Jin continued to only half listen. It wasn’t as pleasant to day dream when you weren’t there for the added visual aesthetic. And he was trying to not be a dick and ignore the one friend he had managed to keep around over the years. But it was hard when his mind had a mind of its own.

Wow.

Meta.

“Jin?”

The voice—deep and dark in such a dramatically ominous way it might have been funny if it didn’t belong to his permanently disgruntled supervisor—interrupted his already derailing train of thought.

“Oh, uh, hello sir,” Jin stuttered, turning to find Kurogiri leaning against the reception desk with one arm, turning only slightly to accommodate Spinner’s form bolting over the gate and out the library doors.

He did manage to throw a fading, “See ya later, bro” over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

Yeah thanks for the warning, bro.

“Aren’t you supposed to be reshelving the books from the drop box?” Kurogiri sighed, perpetually disappointed in a way that had Jin’s face burning and shame bubbling up in his throat.

He hated this job. He was objectively terrible at it, and so usually he wouldn’t give that much of a shit at not doing it well. Kurogiri just had some type of vibe—like daddy but not in the sexy way Spinner always joked about—that made it really, really upsetting to let him down.

Father figure? Yeah that's what it was called.

“Right, yeah um, sorry,” Jin nodded quickly and leapt from his chair, only mildly bruising his knee on the desk as he reached to empty the book drop.

Another incorporeal sigh was the only acknowledgement he received as he loaded the cart with wheels louder than Jin on a particularly bad day and rolled the pile of books back to the stacks. He paused once more, just before the sea green shelving units swallowed him up, to sneak another futile peak at your chair. But it still sat empty—empty and lonely with no you and cold without your body pressed against the worn upholstery.

Jin felt a chill too, a slow tingling thing that worked its way up from the base of his spine. It drove him deeper into the walls of books, away from the empty spaces.

It was harder to look.

Harder to be reminded of what he did not have.

Of what he’d never have cause he was too much of a goddamn pussy to ever just fucking talk to you—

But then what if he did? What if he did talk to you? What would happen then?

Those were the types of questions he tried to avoid when crafting your intricate, fictional lives together. Precisely because they were the easiest to answer.

You’d realize within the first five minutes or so of conversation—if Jin could even make it that far without embarrassing himself—that he was just a generic brand weirdo that all your pretty, normal, aesthetically pleasing friends would warn you to stay away from and because you were also pretty and normal and not a fucking idiot, you’d have the common sense to listen.

He’d lose you in the blink of an eye.

Your chair would sit cold and empty forever and the imaginary garden he’d been planting for you to come imaginarily home too would wilt and die like all the other happy thoughts in his head.

It was quite the conundrum and one Jin was not keen to solve soon.

Not that things ever really went his way. Cause problems could only be avoided for so long before all that time spent ignoring them came back to bite him full on the ass.

Which, apparently, came this time in the form of what had to be quiet, muffled sobbing drifting in between the shelves from the back hallway.

It was dark here in this section of the building—free of most windows so as not to cause any sunning damage to the books—and Jin had seen more than enough horror movies to know that it was a horrendous idea to follow the ominous crying sounds coming from the bowls of this old as fuck building. But even as he made up his mind to ignore it, the hand currently working one of the returns back into its proper place dropped the book to his cart as his feet slowly turned to face the corridor.

He looked around skeptically for a second, not entirely certain his poor brain hadn’t simply malfunctioned again, as it was wont to do, and fabricated the sound entirely. But as he peaked out from between the stacks, and down the dimly lit hall, he heard it again.

Echoey and soft in the wide, empty space it—was definitely coming from the hall and it was definitely a person.

Jin caught himself moving without ever meaning too, the books laying forgotten as he crept towards the source of the noise and paused just before leaving the stacks entirely. This hall was full of small alcoves built into the centuries old walls and led to the lesser used storage portions of the library that only the janitorial staff and the university librarians ever entered. He really didn’t want to stumble across someone from the special collections department bawling over a damaged or lost manuscript.

But his wayward feet pushed him forward, too sympathetic for his own good. He found himself shuffling down the abandoned hall, peering into each small dip in the walls to find the source of his distraction.

And when he did, Jin was—for once in his life—thankful for his lack of self-preservation instincts.

And cursed his blatant lack in interpersonal skills.

Because it was you.

You curled with your knees to your chest and your head in your hands, shoulders shaking, as you cried into your palms.

The universe had handed him maybe the only golden opportunity he would ever get on right on a platter.

But Jin didn’t have a fucking clue what do with it.

And there certainly wasn’t much time to formulate a game plan as his nervous breathing and sudden intake of breath upon discovering his imaginary lover sniffling right in front of him, had certainly alerted you to his presence.

Your head shot up in an instant, knocking dully against the stone wall with a thud.

“Shit,” you cursed and hands flying up to cover the area as Jin jumped on the spot at your outburst.

“Are you okay?” he asked lamely as you glanced over at him, eyes red and wet and so fucking sad oh fucking god, widening as you realized you’d been caught.

“Huh? Ye—oh uh, yes,” your words came out jumbled, legs unfolding quickly to push yourself off the bench and hands wiping furiously at your eyes. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“You sure about that?”

Jin cringed visibly and frowned at the way you deflated under his stare. God the first fucking time he actually talks to you and he already made an ass of himself.

Spinner’s roommate was such a liar, it really fucking sucked to be right sometimes.

“I mean,” you crumpled back down onto the ledge and Jin took a careful step closer, “no, but yes. Like I’m definitely having a breakdown in the back of the fucking library but I don’t wanna, uh, bother you with that. So, yeah I’m good.”

“You can bother me,” he replied way too fucking quickly.

But he couldn’t really be embarrassed about it. Your voice was just so captivating, and you weren’t talking to him in that raised pitch anymore like you usually did—the way everyone does when they’re trying to be surface level and polite. No this was your voice how you sounded when you were relaxing with your friends or making breakfast in the morning or talking to yourself in the shower (he liked to think you did that, or sang maybe as you worked the soap into your skin, one of the two but he always imagined you filled silences with how fucking pretty you were).

“No, really. That would be weird, right?”

Jin grimaced as you fixed him with a watery yet suspicious stare.

Yeah it was weird.

Everything he did concerning you was weird, objectively. He was definitely being over-familiar and too eager, especially considering you didn’t fucking know him.

But he knew you.

Jin felt like he’d known you for all months he’d spent pretending to be by your side.

And you were crying and he had to do something.

“I mean, yeah I guess,” he mumbled, taking a risk and plopped down on the opposite end of the alcove and resting his head on the wall. “But not any weirder than having a breakdown in the employees only section of the library building on a Tuesday.”

You kept staring blankly for a few moments before the most miraculous thing happened.

Jin had to physically stop his jaw from hitting the floor when the quiet giggle bubbled up from your chest and spilled out into the hall, warm enough to melt even the freezing linoleum floor.

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” your voice cracked a bit as a few more tears slid like pearls down your cheeks.

“My name’s Jin,” he said, shocked stupid both by your laugh and the apparent success of his comforting methods.

“Oh, hi, well I guess I don’t have to call you book drop boy anymore,” you rubbed at your face again and tucked your legs back into your chest, though it looked a bit more relaxed this time.

Not so trying-desperately-to-fade-out-of-existence.

���You called me that?” Jin asked, brain still functioning at half capacity, only shocked at the fact that he existed as a concept in your head enough to have a name and realizing a bit too late how accusatory he must have sounded. “Shit, I mean it’s totally fine I just didn’t think you, uh, well I mean, like, knew about me I guess?”

You finally smiled and his brain power cut out another fourth at being personally graced by the expression this close up.

“Yeah, you always check me out—fuck sorry not that you check me out, just you scan my books and I just called you ‘book drop boy’ in my head cause I never got a chance to ask for your name but I have it now so that’s cool….”

Your head dropped back down to your knees as you groaned and Jin suddenly felt a lot less nervous than he had a few seconds ago.

You were weird too.

For so long you’d existed on this pedestal thousands of feet in the air, and now you were stepping down from the heavens and onto earth. Not in a bad way! Just, Jin had never really stopped to think that you might be a person too.

Well.

No, he knew you were a person, just he never thought you might get flustered and ramble and be nervous in front of him.

Cause he was a fucking train wreck—the bar was so goddamn low.

It was almost as comforting as your smile.

“Oh, yeah sorry I’m not the best at customer service if you couldn’t tell,” he sighed and ran a hand through his wild hair.

You looked back up with a wry grin, “I don’t know, I’d say you’re going above and beyond right now.”

And you were funny.

He was gonna fucking combust.

“Ha, yeah, I try,” he trailed off for a moment before glancing back at your curled in your corner, fuck he could just imagine sitting behind you, your head on his chest while you—”So uh, did you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Uh, yeah,” you picked idly at the grouting of the stone and mumbled, “I guess it’s not so weird if we’re on a first-name basis.

And that was how Jin discovered that you’d been hiding in the back of the library bawling your eyes out for hours—since even before his shift started. Apparently you’d gotten here extra early, even skipped a class, to snag some super specific required text for your final thesis and right before you got to the shelf some jackass swooped in, effectively hit and running with the only copy of that book on campus.

The book in questions was one of the newer additions that had special added footnotes you needed for your paper and was a whopping 500 fucking dollars to rent from every other place online. You couldn’t afford it, and honestly what fucking student could? But you needed it to complete the paper or you’d fail and Jin very much understood the need for a good breakdown after a catastrophe like that.

“Damn, that’s uh, fucking awful,” he frowned on your behalf as your head hit the wall a second time in frustration.

“Yeah so, I’m like royally fucked either way. Now I just gotta decide which hole I’m taking it in I guess,” you groaned.

Jin’s eyebrows raised at your choice of words but they were apt, he supposed. People really do get comfortable with each other pretty quick when bonding over shared institutional rage.

“Well,” he began, wringing his hands nervously at what he was about to suggest. “You might be in luck cause I’ve recently decided to abuse my library powers for good and I maybe, possibly, could try and see if there’s some strings I can pull?”

You perked up a bit, looking at him incredulously.

Jin felt comfortably full under your stare.

“Seriously?”

The word was soft and it bounced off the walls just as much as it did the inside of his skull.

Swapping study rooms to help a friend out was one thing. But falsifying checkout dates for someone he barely knew—had essentially married in his maladaptive fantasies—could get him fired.

He hated this job but he needed it.

Were you worth the risk?

Of course, he found himself thinking without hesitation.

You were everything.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, any lingering uncertainty washing away at the way you looked at him through your lashes. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you always this nice?”

Jin didn’t answer right away. He was too caught up in how you’d leaned forward on your hands across the bench, peering like he was some exotic animal or a stray cat in the parking lot—all soft wonderment with fingers curling like they ached to grab hold and rescue him from this parchment scented monotony.

“Not always…”

“Should I feel special then?”

If his face wasn’t red before, it was now. Red and blistering under the summer campfire heat that radiated off you—woodsy and warm and so painfully familiar like an old friend’s hand.

“...I guess you—fucking definitely, ” he quite nearly shouted the last bit, startled by his own volume and already mortified at the outburst but then you chuckled again from beside him.

He turned to see you standing and offering a hand which he gladly too if only to feel the weight of your palm against his.

“Well, you’ll have to let me pay you back then.”

“Oh, no you don’t actually—”

You held a hand up and the words turned to ash on his tongue in an instant, mouth glued shut by your gesture.

“Coffee on me or something, there’s a nice cafe a few blocks from here,” you dropped your hand and your eyes were clear now, no sign of the previous afternoon sobbing alone in the hallway. Jin felt a surge in his chest knowing he was the one who did that. “You gotta pass off the contraband anyway, and I don’t think it would be that great of an idea to do it here.”

God you were fucking perfect.

“Can’t argue with that.”

***

Jin was sweating profusely as he snuck past the library attendant, totally inconspicuous and not not all looking like he was doing a single thing wrong in the slightest.

Yeah they definitely didn’t suspect a thing.

The process of fraud was actually a lot less complicated of an undertaking that Jin had expected. All he had to do was search up the book, find the student that had stolen the success of his sweetheart’s educational career and flag his account. They’d get an automated message about the flag, instructing them to return any borrowed items or they’d be forced to pay fines while the account was examined.

Technically he needed administrator credentials to report student accounts, but luckily Kurogiri had his login info written on a sticky note hidden on the back of the monitor. All in all it was a pretty easy job.

The whole thing had taken only a matter of days, in which time you had returned to the library only twice—the first to get confirmation on the success of Jin’s newest descent into low level crime which had set his heart thundering in his chest as you bent conspiratorially over his desk, your face just inches from his.

The second time, Jin had horrifically been absent from his desk, however he was met with possibly the most wonderful sight of his life upon returning from the labyrinth of shelves.

On one of the hundreds of post-it note pads that littered the library reception area, there were scribbles that he was sure hadn’t been there before. He almost tossed it, but upon closer inspection, you’d written your number there and signed just below it. In the cutest fucking handwriting he’d ever seen—cute not for any stylistic reason, but it simply felt that way just by virtue of it being yours—was written the digits and “-for book drop boy”

The noise he made reading that turned more than a dozen heads and almost got him fired there on the spot before any of his indiscretions were even discovered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it.

So, nerve wrackingly, Jin texted you as he nearly sprinted home from his shift after that piece of shit asshole who made you cry had trudged angrily in and dropped off his ‘stolen’ book.

— HEY IT’S JIN!

— from the library

— shit sorry that wasn’t meant to be in caps

— n e way….

— I’ve intercepted the ~package~ so whenever you’re ready for the hand off, I’m good

Most perfect fucking human being to…

Oh my god thank you so much!!!—

Is tomorrow at like 5ish good for you?—

Also send me your order—

so we don’t have to do that awkward waiting in line for drinks bit—

Holy fuck you multi-texted too! Spinner would roll over in his fucking grave, he hated when Jin did that. But there was always so much to say and he could never think of it all at the same time. Plus, you wanted to save him from that god awful silence where you both stand in line next but he can’t talk cause he has keep repeating his order in his head over and over or he’ll blank when he gets to the register so it’s just this painful weird glancing back and forth—

Ugh, maybe all the shit about manifestation that girl who always loaned him exacto knives in his sculpting class always talked about was real.

Cause there was no way you weren’t just heaven-sent, handcrafted especially for him and all his general brand of weird.

The hours which usually flew by without Jin’s notice dragged all that night. He was so full of excess energy that made his hand shake and his thoughts race, not sure what to do with themselves now that they didn’t need to fantasize about you.

He decided to use all that extra motivation to vacuum the kitchen at 4:30 in the morning, much to his roommates' chagrin. She liked to get a nice solid eight hours every night and constantly reminded Jin of this, trying to sell him on that sleepy time tea before bed, though he really hated the smell of camomile.

Magne may lose out on some of her beauty sleep—not that she needed it and Jin would tell her that constantly, even if he did have some patently horrible judgment most of the time so he wasn’t really the best at offering reassurance—but the kitchen would be clean when she woke up so win-win really.

When she did wake up—wandering out of her room looking effortlessly put together in a way Jin could never hope to emulate—she sat at the table, sipping her tea and appraising him worriedly.

Jin was still in his jeans from the day before, hair spiking in every direction but down, and chewing his nails nervously despite losing most of them to the hour or two of early morning floor scrubbing.

“Babe,” she shook her head slowly, “take a breath.”

“Yeah okay,” he sighed and inhaled deeply, letting himself slide off the couch cushions and to the newly sparkling floors on the exhale.

“There, now wanna share what the hell is going on?”

He glanced up at her from the hardwood and groaned as she looked back down, brows furrowed over her glasses.

“Huhh, okay. So that absolute work of art from the library is meeting me for coffee later cause I have trade over this book I sort of stole, it’s a long story, and I don’t know if it’s a date—it sounds like a date, cause that’s where people go for dates and shit—but it might just be to pay me back for stealing the book. And if it is I’ve only ever been on that one date before which was with fucking Spinner like two years ago so—”

Magne held up a hand to quiet Jin before the speed of his words tied his tongue in physical knots. She looked contemplative, taking another soft sip of tea and nodding her head for a moment getting up to crouch on the floor by his head.

“You think too much for your own good, but never about the right things,” she mumbled, smoothing some of the hair from his face. “Does it really matter if this is a date or not?”

Jin blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” she chuckled in that way people do when kids ask them obvious questions—kindly, appreciative of the curiosity, “either way you cut it, you’ll be spending time with this person you like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed and sat up to face her as she stood.

“A date is just hanging out with a special name anyway,” Magne’s hands were firm but gentle as she hoisted Jin off the floor and onto his feet. “You’ll be fine.”

His shoulders slumped both in mild relief and dejection that he’d waisted so much precious time he could have been preparing possible topics of conversation or strategies to ask you out for real date on worrying over how this first time would go.

How did Magne always fucking know all this stuff?

Other people were such a mystery to him.

To be fair, though, Jin was a mystery to himself most of the time as well.

“Thanks, sorry for not saying anything about it earlier,” he sniffed as she smiled and pinched his cheek way fucking harder than necessary.

“It’s alright, I’m only a little insulted you waited until now to tell me about this massive crush you’ve developed.”

“Yeah it’s got its own gravitational pull at this point.”

Magne laughed at that and Jin felt the room lighten.

“I do expect details when you get back though,” she said pointedly, finishing her tea wandering back to her room to grab her bag. “Spinner asked me, very begrudgingly might I add, to fill in at another of his club tournament things tonight so I’ll be out late.”

“Really? I didn’t think you liked that stuff.”

Jin shuffled over to her doorway and peaked into the neat little space. Magne was rummaging through the meticulously organized closet and frowning as she answered.

“I do, Spinner just doesn’t agree with my battle strategies,” she huffed. “My alignment is far too ‘chaotic’ and ‘recklessly violent’ for his tastes apparently.”

“Oh, yeah that makes sense,” Jin laughed this time just envisioning the two of them stuck on a team. “Well have fun with that.”

“Yeah well,” she brushed by him into the hall, keys jangling as she went and calling over her shoulder. “Text me how it goes, and wear that new button up you got last week, it looks good on you!”

***

Much to Jin’s surprise and delight, Magne was right.

He was fine.

He was fine.

Fine was a bit subjective—as he was most certainly still highkey panicking on main as he got out of his last class and walked the short few blocks to the cafe on campus—but regardless he was perfectly okay.

Of course that all went right out the fucking window in the split second between him walking in and you already staring at the door as he entered. Your eyes widened just a bit and this smile broke out slowly across your cheeks when you waved him over and it was like suddenly every single creepy as hell day dream had just become reality.

It was a little overwhelming to say the least.

His heart may have actually stopped in his chest for a bit and he did contemplate the possibility that Kurogiri might have actually discovered his little plot, murdered him in cold blood and stuffed his body in the records room. This might all just be the afterlife, but that would mean that Jin had gone to some kind of heaven which didn’t really add up with his current tract record.

But it was fine.

Because you were really fucking easy to talk to.

Like, really fucking easy.

It was sorta strange actually, how you seemed to know all this shit he was into before he even really mentioned it.

After you traded off the goods, you both sat in the big comfy couches upstairs in the loft and you listened to him info dump, inevitably getting lost down innumerable unrelated tangents. You managed to keep up well enough though and not question the winding conversation.

“Damn,” he said, sipping at the last dregs left behind in his cup. “How do you know about all this stuff?”

“Uh,” you paused then, looking maybe just a bit sheepishly into your own drink. “I may or may not have spent a considerable amount of time eavesdropping into your conversations while you’re on shift.”

He saw flashes at that moment—dial up sounds going off between his ears.

Jin.exe has stopped working.

“...What?”

You grimaced and hid your face in your hands for a moment, “I know it sounds really creepy, my friends just sorta made a, um, game out of it? They tease me a lot about going to study at the library just cause of the cute guy that works there, so we all kinda stalk you a little bit just—wow this is sounding exponentially worse and worse every second.”

He gaped a bit despite himself as you cringed visibly and Jin tried to discreetly pinch his thigh to make sure this really wasn’t some sort of cruel, cruel fever dream.

“You think I’m cute…?”

He blinked once and your eyes shot up to meet his, a pained, half smile caught between your teeth. “I mean, yeah. I kinda thought I was being a bit obvious, sorry.”

“What no, holy fuck,” he spluttered, face on fire and legs bouncing restlessly against the couch across from you. “Don’t apologize, I have a, uh, staring habit too I guess.”

“I know,” you rubbed at the back of your neck and Jin didn’t think it was possible for you to be anymore endearing. “I’ve noticed, that’s like the whole reason I insisted on buying you a drink.”

“So wait is this a date?”

Jin wished almost immediately that he hadn’t asked, because Magne was right, it super didn’t matter but fucking shit on a stick he really wanted it to be a date!!!!

“Yeah,” you nodded. “If you’d like that.”

“Yes!—ah, I mean, uh yeah mhm,” Jin choked on his spit with enthusiasm, but it did earn him a concerned shoulder pat so he’d take the win.

It also afforded him the opportunity to walk you home after hours chatting until the streets were lit by burnt orange lamps and the cafe was closing. You didn’t live all that far from him actually and when you stopped to point out your door, the two of you were overcome by that telltale, charged silence.

Filled with potential.

Like a gas stove waiting for a spark to go up in flames.

It was you that struck the match.

“So, um, I promise I don’t just, uh, do this with everyone but, do you wanna maybe come inside,” you let your hand trail down his arm and slip into his palm, “I don’t feel like you’ve been properly compensated for saving my ass.”

Jin’s mouth was watering at the thought. He nodded slowly, eyes like saucers as you pulled him up your steps and through the door which shut promptly behind him.

Your place was nice in the sense that it fit you. He wasn’t really paying all that much attention to his surroundings as you locked the door and squeezed his hand in yours, leading him towards the end of the entrance hall.

When he stepped through to your bedroom, you toed off your shoes and he did the same, staring nervously and waiting for you to show him what exactly you meant by ‘further compensation.’

It was exactly what he’d hoped.

You approached him, still in the doorway, and stepped close so your chests brushed together. It was soft, the way you looked at him, sort of fuzzy around the edges while your hands trailed down his arms to place his palms at your waist.

It wasn’t like Jin hadn’t done this before—he totally had and definitely remembered all of it and wasn’t shit faced at all nope—but it hadn’t really mattered before. He knew in theory that he should take the lead, be a gentleman and make the first move and holy fucking god he was dying over there with the desire to finally live out his months and months of fantasies

But what if he did it wrong?

What if he ruined it now when he was so close to the finish line?

He’d never fucking forgive himself for it, and he could goddamn hear Magne in his head.

“You think too much for your own good.”

And he did, and he was right now, cause the room was only dimly lit by the street light streaming in through the window and you were reaching out to loop your arms behind his neck.

Should he lean down now?

Tilt left or right?

What if he clacked your teeth together?

What if—

Your lips were soft and hot against his, rubbing at the stubble on his chin before pressing close in that precious, puzzle-piece way human bodies fit together. He didn’t do much thinking after that.

His hands were too busy digging into the flesh of your hips separated by way to many fucking layers of fabric, and he couldn’t quite stop himself from indulging just a bit. Jin sucked gently at your lower lip, knees going weak at the glorious fucking sound you made in the back of your throat as he licked over the taught skin and tugged it between his teeth.

He could feel you smiling into his mouth, sharing breath and raking your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. Jin groaned and you—fucking cheeky little bastard—slipped your tongue right past his lips and licked at the back of his fucking teeth like a popsicle in July.

Your hands in his hair hard tugged and his breath was coming faster, lips gliding against yours as the room turned to steam around him.

Through the haze he clung to the few remaining seconds of clarity.

Jin pulled away for one painful second to mumble against your lips.“You meant have sex, right?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely more than a whisper, but you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against his.

“Ohh fuck, ‘kay good, thank god.”

For once Jin had nothing more to add.

And you weren't exactly willing to give him back his tongue long enough for any interruptions anyway.

***

“Holy fucking shit, look at you,” Jin gasped into your ear.

Both of your clothes had been discarded long ago, and he had your bare back to his chest while he sat propped against the headboard with your legs hooked on either side of his knees. It didn’t afford him the best view, but he got your head resting on his shoulder and pretty moans spilling right into his ear.

He didn’t need to see your pussy anyway.

The slick pouring out of your pretty fucking hole and coating his fingers as he pumped two of them into you was more than enough. His other hand wandered in the lovely expanse of space between your chest and your waist, running softly over the skin and pausing to pinch and roll your nipples just to hear you whine.

His cock was so fucking hard, trapped between your ass and his stomach, twitching every time you thrust your hips to meet the movement of his wrist.

“Jin, fuck please-”

You used his name every time you begged him for more and it was really going to his head.

“You’re so goddamn perfect, I’m gonna fucking ruin you,” he groaned and sunk his fingers deeper into your soaking cunt while his mouth dropped to your neck and sucked hard to mark you lovely skin.

He licked at the indents of his teeth, tasting your sweat on his tongue that tangled with yours again as your hand reached for his cheek and pulled him in. It was less of a kiss and more of a sloppy forming of your mouths that left you connected by a silvery string of spit that flashed in the low light. Jin sighed at the sight, rutting his hips against the cleft of your ass.

Your thighs twitched where they were spread and your hips lifted off the mattress to meet the languid thrusts of his fingers that curled up on every push in to hear the hitch in your breath.

He took pity on you and brought his other hand down to rub circles on your clit, listening for the telltale whimpers and the way your nails dug into his arm to find the perfect rhythm.

“I don’t really—mm, there fuck—feel like I’m paying you back right now,” you mumbled nipping your own trail of stepping stone bruises onto his throat as he picked up the pace and held steady on that sweet bundle of nerves.

“Are you fucking serious?”

He didn’t really mean to full on growl at you then, but just the thought that you’d really believe he wasn’t about to fucking drown in ecstasy just from watching you get off—just from touching, speaking, being in anyway acknowledged by you at all. Jin nudged your head to the side and bit down harshly into the crook of your neck, shuddering as you moaned and arched against his chest.

In any other scenario, he could never really find the right balance between too many words and not enough. The sheer volume of thoughts and interjections that raced like cars reaching the end of rush hour traffic made the formulation of any coherent conversation impossible, but now—

Now with your body so pliant in his hands, so willing and sweet and wanting him.

Wanting him.

What a concept.

He needed you to understand, to know how fucking over the moon, sunshine bright you had him burning.

And for once, he finally had the words to do it.

After all, he’d had months to prepare.

It was surprisingly easy to change your positions, to pull away from you for just a moment so he could roll and cage you on your hands and knees under him, ass in the air nestled against his cock.

“You really don’t think I’m getting anything out of this?” he groaned into you ear, rocking his length against you both for emphasis and because it felt so fucking good.

“Ah, well ya know,” your voice was so wrecked he was desperate to find out how much it would take for you to lose it entirely. “When you put it like that—mmh—I just feel bad you’re doing all the work. ”

You had this cheeky fucking grin on your face when you rocked forward so back so his cock slipped down to your dripping lips. The heat of your cunt was mesmerizing and it took a fuck ton of self control Jin was unaware he possessed to not ram straight into you right then.

“Yeah cause I’ve wanted to for fucking months goddamn it’s driving me insane.”

“What?”

Now that he’d started, Jin couldn’t find it in himself to stop. His hands dug hard into your hips, rocking so the tip of his dick caught your clit and you shivered below him, hot skin sliding with the motion of your bodies.

“It’s all I think about whenever I see you,” he was shaking when his hand reached down to grip himself, spreading your folds and soaking his length in your slick. “When you come in to work I just fucking lose myself thinking about how bad I want you to be mine, my pretty fucking thing to bring me coffee while I work and let me fuck you in the backroom.”

You whimpered under him, face pressed into the mattress as he draped himself over you, chest to back with his breath ghosting over your ear.

“Literal hours I just sit there at that awful fucking job and I only keep coming cause of you, cause I can watch you sit all cute in your chair and watch the way your cheeks squish up when you put your face in your hands and imagine they’re my hands and I’m about to spit in your fucking mouth so you remember who you belong too.”

“I—” you were nearly choking on the drool that soaked through your sheets as Jin lined himself up with your pretty little hole, pressing just the tip into your heat. “I didn’t think you ever—nggh, shit—noticed much about me.”

The corners of his eyes burned as sweat dripped down his forehead, he had to hold back a sob as he sheathed another inch into those perfect walls.

“Notice you? You’re all I fucking think about,” he pressed his lips softly against your shoulder, hands running from your chest to your sides as you took his cock and every word that slipped from his lips without complaint. “I could take such good care of you. I just fucking know it, just please, let me take care of you?”

“Fuck Jin,” your voice was closer to a sob than anything else but he needs you screaming. “You don’t really have to convince me—”

His patience had run out long ago, not even willing to let you finish before he’d sunk in to the hilt, spearing you on his cock with one final thrust. You ass was flush with his hips and his balls hung heavy and tight against the back of your thighs. The strangled little cry that worked its way out of your throat had gooseflesh erupting across his arms where he held you to him.

Jin couldn’t really be sure—it wasn’t like his brain was all that functional on a day to day basis and it most certainly was not now—but your walls clenching around him and that addictive warm, wet feeling milking his cock was on a whole other level than any fuck he’d ever had before.

There was something about the curve of your back against his chest, and the way you seemed to suck him in, drawing his length back in just seconds after he’d pulled out. Some about the feeling of your chest in his hands, of the sweat on your skin that he licked off in a long strip up your spine. Like you really were made for him. As though all those months spent in dream land, concocting your pretend lives together had spilled over into reality, molding you into the perfect shape to take him deep and hard and cry while you came on his cock just like he knew you were meant to.

“Oh, fuck yeah, gonna make you feel so good, I promise,” he mumbled, forehead pressed to the nape of your neck as his hips drew back and he sunk into you over and over again.

He needed you to moan louder, needed your neighbors on the other side of every wall to hear what he did to you, how he fucked you dumb on his cock and made you drunk with the pleasure of it—slutty and perfect and better than any fantasy he could ever concoct.

The room was filled completely with the wet slap of your bodies—his balls tightening up just at the squelch of you taking him—leaving only enough space for your cries and his grunting, no room left for any bitter doubt to creep in and ruin the sweetness in the air.

He could feel the surge growing in his stomach, the tensing in his thighs as his hips stuttered, but he needed you to cum first. Wanted to tip over the edge to the feeling of you spasming around him, so he let a hand slip from your hip to your folds. Jin only paused for a moment to run a finger around your stretched hole, feeling himself plunging into you, before drifting back up to your swollen clit and working the sensitive bud.

The mattress creaked and rocked along as Jin increased his pace, shifting his hips until his tip knocked against something that had your hands fisting in the sheets and your tongue lolling out in between cries of his name.

You didn’t give him much a warning, not that he minded really. Just a muffled shout with your head smashed into the pillows and the tightening of your walls surrounding him before he felt your whole body wracked with tremors so hard he had to wrap both arms around your middle and hold you while he rammed into you.

Jin wasn’t really keeping track of the filth that was pouring from his lips as he brought himself closer to release. A lot of encouragement, that you were taking him so well, cumming so pretty for him, mixed with a lot of thanks—for letting him have this, have you, for not casting him aside like everyone else always inevitably did.

He did have the clarity to drag one arm up and link your fingers together, pressing hard into the bed while blood pounded in his ears and his hips stuttered in their relentless rhythm. When Jin did finally cum, it was a strangely silent affair, all the words and sound that usually roared inside him dying on his lips as his cock spilled milky release deep inside you and your walls fluttered at the fullness.

And then it was as though every muscle in his body changed physical states.

Boneless, he collapsed onto you with a little huff. You didn’t even complain, just squeezed his hand tighter in yours and hummed at the weight of him.

“Well I think that was a, um,” you panted while he nuzzled his face deeper into your neck, “pretty equivalent exchange yeah?”

“I don’t know,” Jin kissed and nipped at the sweet skin of your shoulder, “I think you might have over paid a bit.”

You laughed, the joyous movement of your chest jostled him from your back and had his soft cock slipping from you in a gush of combined release. “I doubt that very much, I didn’t know I’d be getting to take your fucking load as part of the deal.”

“Shit,” he felt his heart seize in his chest, raising up on his elbows to look down as you turned to him. “I’m sorry, I should have asked.”

Your hand came up to stroke his cheek, clammy but welcome. He sat up enough so you could lay on your back and pull him back down to your chest amidst the sweat and cum slicked sheets.

“Don’t worry about it, I would have asked you to anyway,” you kissed the baby frizz at his hairline and if Jin hadn’t already melted into a puddle, then he certainly was now. “If I’d been able to talk at all.”

“Ha, yeah….”

A short silence descended in your dark bedroom. The noise of cars and the occasional shout filtered in through the window, but there was no other sound than your evening breaths. Jin tried not to ruin the peace while he had it.

It was such a rare commodity.

But he couldn’t say he mourned the quiet when you finally spoke.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you asked in that soft way he always envisioned you would.

Soft so he’d know it was just a courtesy.

That you didn’t want him to leave.

“Uh, yeah, yes I would,” he stumbled over the words a bit, trying not to sound too eager but wanting you to know he would work a thousands shifts at the reception desk if it meant you held him for just a second longer.

“Good,” you sighed.

He felt you scoot down the bed and flopped onto his back so you could settle your head on his chest and drape an arm across his stomach. After another few minutes he felt you go limp at his side, soft and relaxed as you slipped away into dreams.

But though his muscles ached and his eyes felt heavy, Jin resisted the call to sleep.

He didn’t need to now.

You were here, in the flesh, and he could study you intently while his eyes were open.

No need for his brain to conjure up scattered images of you.

Because he had you now, tucked safely under his arm for him to keep and hold and fuck and love the way he wanted.

So there was no more need for sleep.

And no need for dreams.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

Two chapters over the weekend because I was ✨ inspired ✨ and my neighbors can't stop fucking (noisily!) and I'm,,, envious.

Strange adventures in Hell. There are descriptions of desperation and doom, lots of magic and - hear me out - forced/reluctant hand holding 😌 Oh my God, they held hands!!!

"What. Were. You. Thinking?!" Strange was seething, his enormous figure and broader height towered over me, the blood-red of his cape vibrating, the only spleck of colour in the grey and dusty dark world.

"I had no choice in the matter," I replied as calmly as I managed, gritting my teeth, memories of our past stand-off fresh in my mind. We could have bickered until the end, until one of the beasts flying overhead spotted us and decorated the bleary grounds of this forsaken planet with the crimsons of our life blood. "I think it's best if we get to safety first, argue later. I have no desire to become somebody's lunch."

That much was true: I had taken a good look at our surroundings as soon as I recovered from the vacuum-like sensation of being pulled into a magical gateway; the visibility was terrible, the planet's natural light very scarce. Several suns were hardly visible in the sky, their rays barely penetrating the mists and the ashes freely floating in the air.

There was oxygen even if breathing in a full lungful seemed impossible; I tried not to think about the contents of the air, or the possibility of radiation poisoning, as the multiple amulets and charms seared into my skin where they rested under my clothes. I had four bottles of water, some bandages and salves and a sacrifice for a single ritual to my name and absolutely no conviction that Mother Earth would be able to hear the call of an earthling gone so astray.

But it was hope, so I held on.

"Fine," Stephen sighed, suddenly looking tired and weary, glancing around with furrowed brows. "Let's see if I can open a portal," his hands did that complicated set of gestures that I'd grown to associate with a golden circle and sparks on the ground. The thing flickered, once, twice, before disappearing, as if the Sorcerer's magic had run out of batteries. "Yeah, I thought so," he whispered to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"The bad news first, please," I interpreted his hesitation with a realistic outlook on our predicament.

"I can't open a portal just anywhere on this planet. We need to find a... Rift, of sorts," the man was anxiously looking around. "And those things, they'll smell us... Right about now," his eyes shot up at a winged, rapidly approaching shadow. "No good news, I'm afraid."

I allowed myself a small sigh of disappointment, keeping a tight leash on the panic slowly creeping up my body. The feeling of determination, the power of Gaia within me was still present, laying in a cozy dormant ball slightly south of my solar plexus. "Give me your hand, please," I reached out to Stephen only for him to promptly recoil.

"You should've thought about the consequences of your actions, I'm not going to hold your hand because you're scared shitless," his words were sharp but they lacked the venom. He wouldn't, or couldn't, meet my eyes.

"I know you have scarred hands. I'm a healer and you don't have to feel embarrassed or ashamed I, I've seen worse," I stated in my best 'mutant nurse' voice as Stephen's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "Those things can't sense me. And I know they won't be able to sense you too if we have skin-to-skin contact. So unless you want me to get under your... Robes," I gestured to the layers upon layers of clothing he had wrapped himself in. I considered the possibility of his whole body being covered in scars, too, and couldn't help the pang of sympathy. "Take one glove off and give me your damn hand before this trip to Jurassic Park goes full pterodactyl massacre!"

I saw the thing in the sky open it's mouth - but no sound came out, the clouds reducing it's outline to a vaguely triangular shadow. There was something very unusual about this planet's atmosphere.

With a couple of jerky movements, Stephen slid off the glove from his left hand, looking away as his large, dry, warm palm encompassed mine in a gentle, trembling grip. It made no sense to interlace our fingers, so I help onto him like a child holds onto their parent; the size difference of our hands and his imposing aura surely made me feel like one.

We stood a foot apart, watching the shadow in the sky begin to circle the place we stood in, it's gaping maw opening again and again, before it zigzagged across the sky with a strong dash of confusion, it's graceful glide becoming a series of rapid turns and twists. With a final inaudible shriek, it flew off into the dusty greys of the horizon, becoming a dark spot far away in mere seconds.

The silence was so loud in this world. Like the eerie stillness of my, undoubtedly haunted, apartment, I was eager to dissipate it with something beyond our combined heavy breathing. "Please don't tell Tony," I timidly gave our touching hands a sway. "He'll never leave it alone."

A chuffing noise coming from above had me whip my head up to see Stephen holding in a puff of nervous laughter; his shoulders dropped slightly as he eyed me in turn. "What makes you think I won't tease you about it?"

"You wouldn't dare," I took mock offense, rising my leaking nose to the skies.

The grumble and the eyeroll I expected, the smirk that faded into a ghost of a smile I did not. "We should go. Usually there is a rift within a few miles of every location everywhere," he tried to keep the content expression as he spoke but the storm in his eyes betrayed his concern. They were so blue, I felt like I was drowning.

I let myself to be tugged in a direction - everything seemed exactly the same, a never-ending ashen wasteland with the occasional dark grey rock that crumbled to dust as soon as the heel of my shoe touched it. My light blue sweater quickly became the colour of rotten wood, a sickly, dull monotone between brown and gray.

The complete lack of any kind of natural noise brought out the desolation of this wretched place; if we gripped each other's hands tighter, neither of us chose to acknowledge it. It was too easy to get lost in your own mind when the surroundings were dead set on rebuking anything that was in any shape or form alive.

I caught myself thinking that this must be what people think Hell should look like.

Strange walked briskly for the most part, periodically clearing his throat and eyeing me when I struggled to keep up with his long strides. It could have been an hour, or maybe two, of aimless wandering and rapidly imploding portals accompanied by Stephen's increasingly overcast face before I made the man stop and offered him a water bottle, which he insisted we split between us two.

It didn't take me a tarot reading to figure out our chances were grim. Needless, I gave him the same look I give to injured, scared mutant children when they come to the bodega for the first time; a look of quiet temperance.

And then we walked, and walked again, as Stephen grew moodier and moodier, marching on with the force of a seasoned soldier, only taking breaks when I forced him to stand still and breathe with me. As cautious and closed-off as he was, I pressed onto the fact of me being a healer of sorts, and he relented if briefly, always reluctant, always seasoned by a great dose of bewilderment.

"Do you feel that?" Stephen's stride halted, both feet firmly planted on the ground.

The ground had tremors had coming from deep within, small shocks that could have been easily missed if not for the complete lack of sound on this world. My nod was mute, I didn't trust my voice not to break when I clearly knew there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, endless fields of nothing all around us.

"Hold onto me," promptly, I was grabbed and pushed into his chest, his long arms easily picking me up, encouraging me to wrap my legs around his waist. "Hold tight, I might need my hands," my face grew hot as I wound my arms around Stephen's neck, clinging to him like a monkey, a palm resting on the soft fine hairs if his nape. It felt too intimate somehow, in the wake of imminent danger.

The Cape that previously swayed behind him in rhythm with his steps billowed, the red fabric of it tough as it levitated us a few feet above the ground. I felt Stephen tense with each tremor; within moments, the surface shook and stuttered more and more, cracks appearing in between the dust, turning the plains into a marble-patterned patch of darkness.

We rose above it, high enough that I could see the veins resulting from the quake stretch far out into the wasteland, jagged, abrupt lines of even more concentrated darkness. And as quickly as the quake started, it was over, leaving little evidence as the ground settled.

Stephen floated us to a larger patch of the ground, criss-crossed with thinner, less prominent lines, poking the ground with his foot before allowing it to fully bear our weight. He was shaken, there was no doubt. "That was... Something," he stated lowly.

"Mhm," I hummed, fighting the urge to frantically look around, forcing my hand from clutching at his palm like a lifeline. I had decided on a plan while I was busy playing baby koala - not that there were many other options except to wander these god forsaken bare badlands until our painful demise. "Listen, Strange, I'm aware you don't hold my people in particularly high regard but you're going to have to trust me on this," my words came out derisive as I placed his palm on the back of my neck and kneeled, forcing him to do the same behind me.

The contents of my bag greeted me grimly with out last bottle of water and the couple knick-knacks that gathered the black dust on them. I hastily poured the water into a bowl, dipping my fingers in it, and added the crushed bones to the mixture.

The time that was required to make a paste-like mixture, I used to address a bewildered Stephen. "This is a last resort. I don't know if it will work, we're not on Earth," I briefly breathed my distress. "I don't even know how far we are from home. But I refuse to die here, in this grotesque Hell, without putting up a fight and Gaia has always looked out for her flock. I might get very, very sick if this is successful."

The warning had him attempt to object before he cast a long look around us, shoulders sagging, as motioned for me to continue, those piercing blue eyes boring into my face. "Tell me what do I need to do," his voice quietly attempted to soothe my very obvious fear.

I was terrified, both of dying, nameless, faceles in this world full of Nothing; the prospect of withering away after depleting all my resources was, perhaps, equally unappealing, but dying on my home planet sounded better than dying here. "Have faith," I replied curtly, beginning to chant softly under my breath as soon as Stephen's expression hardened.

My eyelids grew heavy, limbs filling with lead and molten lava as I summoned the forces of Mother itself; my body was aching, exhausted by answering her call as it was. The warm ball in my chest that previously comforted me grew, spreading its smelten power through every vein, every vessel. No part of my body was left cold. A sense of purpose filled me, pushing me forward, driving me to move, to run, to leap.

"This way," even to my own ears, my voice sounded pained. It felt as if I was walking through swamp waters, full of clay and debris, each step taking my barely coherent form through an individual bog full of pins and needles. The force of Mother Nature burned inside of me, enraged at the state of her surroundings.

Stephen spoke to me but all I could hear was mumbling, thousands of voices, low and shrill, unintelligible to the human mind. I could feel the sorcerer's pain; the itch and burn in his throat, the constant, dull throb in his scarred, broken hands. His hand in mine only intensified the situation and I fought with his injuries like I fought with the black dots in my eyes, I forced down the unpleasant sensations, setting fire to them, letting the reigns of control on the raging inferno within me slip just the smallest, tiniest bit.

The steps of his long feet stuttered as I felt the discomfort lessen yet I simply towed him along. Time leaked through the cracks in my eyes, which were mostly unseeing anyways. The useless things grew blind at some point, not that I noticed it on the greys and blacks of the surrounding scenery. It was harder to walk, my breathing grew laboured with the extertion as we finally reached the place that felt right.

"Here," I rasped, voice so quiet it could have been mistaken for a breeze. I craved to feel it; the soft puffs of wind, the sound of running water. I had called for Earth and she demanded its child back.

The portal appeared without a stutter even though Stephen's hands shook; I saw the uneven channels, the energies traveling through them at an uneven pace. As soon as I pushed through the wormhole, coming to my senses in an unfamiliar, light room, I fell to my knees.

Stephen's pained moaning told me he was probably experiencing the same stinging, burning sensation on his skin; my eyes, they were the worst - my eyeballs felt like they were melting, leaking out of my sockets into thick, gelatinous tears streaming down my face. I blindly groped for the sorcerer's hand, directing the forces within me to soothe his hurts much like I had done in the wastelands.

"Strange?!" A masculine, shocked voice exclaimed before footsteps crashed into my sensitive ears with the force of an elephant herd. "Oh my God, they're here! Tony, come!"

"Stop fucking screaming," Stephen gasped out as I felt him curl into himself.

"Friday, scan them," I recognised Tony's voice, the tiredness and desperation standing out in it more than it did in the rest of the whispers in the room.

"They appear to be experiencing a sensory overload. I would recommend to engage Peter's Cooldown mode," the mechanical voice replied, barely audible. The noise still grated on my ears after spending... How long were we gone?

"Do it, Fri," Tony's soft footsteps reached us; I smelled the spices of his cologne next to my and Stephen's prone forms. "You gave us a scare there," the tone was admonishing but gentle.

"We were scared shitless ourselves," I attempted to speak, only now noticing how grating my voice sounded. "We were in Hell," I mumbled to myself, slowly removing my hand from Stephen.

"That," he coughed up the word, breathing through his nose before speaking again, his voice sounding much better than mine. "That place was as close as possible to biblical pits I have ever seen," there was shuffling and gentle murmurs as the two men ensured each other of their presence and well-being.

The burning sensations receded back to my core, the embers of the fires dying out, leaving me feeling like deflated beach ball, all shell and no filling. With a groan, I rolled over onto my back right in the middle of the pristine carpet on the floor, forcing my eyes open and breathing through the pain until I could somewhat see the champagne coloured ceiling without black dots obstructing my vision.

Shuffling noises reached my ears as a familiar round face with light red hair came into my line of sight, Wanda's gentle features concerned. "Star, do you need to go to medical?" She eyed me almost suspiciously but the question was earnest.

The idea of a doctor fixing a magical burnout was bizarre to me, as if it ever was that easy; I chortled sardonically. "No, Wanda, there's nothing wrong with me that a doctor would be able to fix," I replied honestly. "I should call Odette."

"I've called, she said to notify her when you return," Sam's voice was gentle as he approached. I could feel him glaring daggers at a rapidly reddening Wanda. "She was the one who said you'll definitely come back," he offered me his hand.

I had to choke down a moan of relief as I grabbed it. The warmth, the life of another human being, the precious gift of a beating pulse under my fingertips was divine. "You should listen to her. She knows her stuff." It was easy, talking to Sam as if he was an old friend. He had one of the most pleasant auras I've seen on a human being.

"I'm a doctor," Stephen suddenly perched up, sounding almost bashful. "And I can aid the healing process," he stated over Tony's disgruntled mumbling. "If you can explain to me how the hell you managed to hold a... an entire sun's worth of energy!" The more he spoke the more bewildered he became, tone growing in pitch, ending the sentence with an exclamation.

"I don't know," I replied with a sigh. The whole indignation in this man, I was not prepared to face. "When I took this up," I gestured vaguely to the burned, bent metal adornments I began to remove off my body. "I thought I was going to get an increase in tips and a better outlook on life. Help my friend with her asthma as much so she wouldn't have to use her inhaler every time she gets suprised or scared," my jewelry hit the floor with a dull clank, piling up into bent silver I wouldn't even be able to cleanse and repurpose.

Sam whistled lowly, poking at a necklace that had twisted on itself, a grotesque spiral of dull ashen grey.

"I certainly didn't think that a bleeding mutant accepting his fate as cannon fodder will call for the Earth itself," my tone grew vicious. Exhaustion was nesting in my bones. "And that Mother Nature would take over my body, pour lava into my veins and bleed recklessness into my thoughts. But here I am, freshly out of Hell and alive and kicking."

A stunned silence was interrupted by Tony's frantic whispering. "You are not leaving my penthouse for the foreseeable future," as the weight of the incident set on him. The knuckles of his hand clutching Stephen's dirty tunic turned white.

"I am," Stephen eyed me with a strange look in his eye, as if he was seeing me for the first time. His eyes then turned to Tony, who'd began rambling, arguing with Stephen. The sorcerer stopped the word vomit with a grim confession. "I'd be dead if not for Starlight. I'd be meat and bone, splattered across a barren, radioactive land in the deepest, darkest pits of the universe."

I felt my face droop in slow-motion. My throat flexed, swallowing a thick lump of filthy mucus, I coughed up, "Ra-radioctive?" As soon as I could work my voice without it squeaking.

Taglist: @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins2 @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[stargaze-issei]

ᴅᴀʏ 𝟼; ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋᴇʀ

-> tsukishima kei.

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭; same tattoo, shared dreams, soulmates!au.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; none.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 1.8k

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; fluff.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; the way i want to make a series out of everything in this challenge sigh.

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"what does it mean, tsukki?" yamaguchi asked by his side, looking with curiosity the needle leaving marks on his friend's skin. 

tsukishima wanted to get a tattoo through his complete adolescence, his parents never allowed it, not until he could pay it by himself, at least. and there he was, eighteen years old, watching in amazement how one of his few dreams became true. being honest, he wasn't sure what it meant, but he had dreamed about those numbers a lot. since he was thirteen, the same number appeared not only in his dreams, but was everywhere else too, everytime he checked the hour, the number of his locker, even his volleyball shirt. of course it took him a while to figure it out, but once he saw it, he couldn't stop. it became his luck number. 

"are you sure you just want that?" the artist wondered for the third time.

"yeah, it's important to me" the smile on tsukishima's face was completely different to all the others yamaguchi had seen since they knew each other. 

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

"please, come see me play, you're always busy!" your friend, koganegawa, could be a pain in the ass if he wanted to. he could be one withouth wanting too. your job as an assistant teacher kept you occupied half of the day, add the hours at college and how much you had to study, to say it was hard to make room in your life was an understatement. which was why you never went to kogane's games after highschool.

"i told you i can't! i have... work" 

"you don't work at nights, idiot! come see me play" he was so annoyingly persistent, that you had to accept, earning a excited hug from him.

after he left your appartment, only because you made him, you let yourself drop onto the couch, sighing. in fact, you were tired, but going to see kogane, one of your only friends, was something you could do. he was always so supportive, in his own unique way, it was the least you could do for him. you scratched your collarbone, unconciously going over your tattoo with your fingers, like checking if it was still there. somehow, that piece of inked skin gave you strengths when you felt like you were at your limit. the memory of a well known dream came to your mind, making you giggle.

*.✧☆ﾟ.*･｡✧*⊰⊹ฺ

you knew koganegawa's team was a professional team, but you never expected them to have a cheering squad, and local tv cameras and periodists focusing on them. it was your first time at the gym where they were playing, a little anxiety growing in your chest not knowing where to go. you tried calling him to help you, but all you got was a text saying he had sent somebody to your rescue. 

"hi, are you kogane-kun's friend?" said a short blonde girl, touching your shoulder. she seemed really kind, making you feel more comfortable instantly.

you mumbled a positive respond, and she quickly grabbed your hand to take you to the bleachers like she knew the place by hand. she introduced herself as yachi hitoka, and said the game was about to start. she was also a friend of one of the players, but met some others, like koga, in highschool. 

in the exact moment that you and yachi sat, the starting whistle blowed, starting with the power serve of a bleached haired guy.

yachi guide you through the game, explaining the basics to you, but you couldn't take your eyes off of the blond man with glasses, he looked so familiar, though you were sure it was the first time you saw him. he intrigued you, a lot. you were too shy to ask yachi for his name, hoping to catch it on through the speakers at some point, or trying to remember if kogane had said something about him. the game went on, points were made by everyone, and every single one the setter did, he looked at you, searching for a reassurance smile. 

when it finished, a crushing victory from the frogs, you and your new friend went to wait for them outside of the compound, yachi felt the need to warn you before you met everyone. 

"see, kyoutani can be a little... intense, some times, but he's really nice, and tsuk-"

"y/n! did you see me!? did you see my points!? we were so great!" she was interrupted by an overly excited koganegawa walking towards you, along with two ther blondes. your cheeks burned at the sight of whom you had glared so hard just minutes ago, wondering if he had noticed. his face was buried on his phone, too busy to look up, disappointing you a little.

"i saw you, dumbface, that's what i came to do" he pouted at your fake insult, proceeding to shout to kyoutani by his side how awesome you were for going to his game. you introduced yourself, one of they boys said to be kyoutani kentaro, the one of your interest didnt't even reply.

tsukishima had heard your voice many times before, but for the first time, he was awake. his eyes opened wide, a soft hum of confusion left his mout. it couldn't be you, you were just a made up person from his dreams, someone who he had never seen, less say heard talking, to recognize that fast. although it was you. those eyes, that voice, that hair, it was you. he had dreamed about you for so long, in his mind, at the beginning you were his same age, growing up as he did. you were exactly like that woman.

"...tsukki!" he came back to earth thanks to kogane, who was frenetically moving him from his shoulders trying to get his attention. 

"get off" was all tsukishima answered.

"where's yamaguchi?" asked yachi. you didn't know what they were talking about, but you had witnessed the glasses boy, whom's name appears to be tsukki, go through a complete life crisis in the last minute.

"he's joining us at the restaurant" he said, starting to walk away by his own, followed by kyoutani and yachi, later by kogane pulling you from your arm to walk. 

yachi and koga talked enough to fill the uncomfortable aire in the table once everybody ordered. a man named yamaguchi arrived a few minutes earlier, still in office clothes. he congratulated the guys on their victory and greeted you nicely, presenting himself as "tsukki's friend". 

the minutes became hours, everyone, except you and tsukki, was drunk, even kyoutani had that red color on his cheeks because of the alcohol. yachi, who had stated that she was just a little tipsy, sober up when she saw how late it was. 

"i have to work tomorrow! we all have to! oh go, i can't believe i let kogane- tsukishima, could you please take y/n home while i get these three an uber?" despite being so small, the girl seemed to be completely in charge of everything, probably because of her years as manager in highschool, you thought.

"are you sure you don't need help with them?" you asked, a bit curious about how was she going to handle two giants and a man with rabies by herself.

"don't worry, i've been doing this since highschool, i'm more worried about you arriving safe"

"i'll take her, you stay at yamaguchi's and text me when you're there" intervined tsukishima, he had been quiet most of the night, even though he couldn't look less interested in being there, he still refused to leave. sometimes, he would stare at you when you weren't paying attention, without knowing that you actually felt his look on you. the girl agreed to his proposal, kissing your cheek goodbye and giving her friend a small hug before you took your things and got out of the place, followed by the tall man. 

the walk was silence after you told him you lived near enough to walk, him just nodding to your words. you didn't feel uncomfortable, though, and you wanted to believe neither did he. both of you were at a really short distance, and he didn't seem to care, but you smell of strawberry shortcake coming out of him. you giggled, thinking how funny it was that such an intimidating guy smelled like cake. tsukishima glared at you, disconcerted by your sudden laugh at no apparent reason.

"i used to go to this coffee house in highschool, they had the best strawberry cake i have ever eaten" your random fact caught tsukishima off guard, because he went to a coffee house with a really good strawberry cake since highschool too. he stayed silence, affraid to keep finding more shared details betweent the two of you. "i mean, don't think i talk about cake when- you smell like- i'm sorry" had you just made the situation hundred times worse? yes, you had. 

the rest of the walk was as silent as the first half, now, tsukishima was uncomfortable, so much that you could tell, but still, he choose to stay close to you instead of making distance. despite being a autumn night, you felt hot, your multiples layers of clothing were now making you sweat. without giving it much thought, you took off your jacket and sweater, leaving at sight you tattoo in you collarbone. tsukki tried, he really did, to not look at you, stripping like it was nothing, so when he did, and saw his exact same tattoo in your body, he stopped walking. his jaw barely hit the floor, you could swear he saw a ghost.

"are you okay? d-do you...? what are you doing?" he got over his shocked, and in a light of boldness, he started to take off his coat and sweater, not only that, but lifting his shirt until you could see his nipple and ribs. it was then when you saw it too, your tatto, the exact same details, were on his skin, like it was printed of the same printer. you hadn't chose a design from an artist, you drew one on your own, wanting to be the only of its kind, yet, there you were.

like someone had opened a door in your mind, memories of lost dreams came back, you remembered from where tsukishima seemed so familiar. that damned dream you had for years, of him, who you thought was a creation from your subconscious, was now standing right in front of you, in flesh and bones. not you nor tsukishima knew how to react, maybe, fearing that the other would run away. a strange urge to cry invaded you, and for some reason, a intense desire to feel the blonde closer.

"i want to take you on a date, if that's okay with you" 

"yes" you said not a second late, almost begging him to be with you from that day to your last.

"and i wanna kiss you right now" he didn't even let you answered before jumping to your lips, leaning a bit. you sighed in the middle of the kiss, relieved to feel him and his warm arms around you, your lips moving at synch.

his lips tasted like strawberry too.

⌙ 𝟐𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 🥳

[reighlee-greaves]

Snapped : Tom Hiddleston x Reader

So this is a collaboration between me and @just-the-hiddles who is responsible for half of the dialogue and the header image. I would like to thank @just-the-hiddles for giving me the idea for this x reader.

-Summary- Tom and the reader get into a heated argument about a photo that the paparazzi snapped of her and her ex Sebastian Stan. To apologise Tom enlists the help of Benedict.

Tag list

@just-the-hiddles

@confetti-its-an-imagine-blog

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Tom hadn't glanced at his phone that morning until well after his run. When he picked it up, he found himself bombarded with voice messages and texts. They all were about one thing. He clicked on one of the links to find a headline from the Daily Mail blaring out him: Hiddles Out, Seb In. Romance Rekindled.

Tom's face paled as he scrolled to find a grainy photo of you looking rather cozy with your ex, Sebastian Stan. Without another thought, Tom grabbed his keys and headed towards your place.

“Tom, what are you doing here our date isn’t until tomorrow?” you asked Tom.

Tom barged through the door, his face red. "Care to explain this?!" he yelled as he shoved his phone in your face.

“Tom I—“ you began only to be cut off by Tom’s frantic pacing.

“—I, I, I," he mocked. "You can't even come up with a plausible lie for why you were photographed with your ex."

“Ok, Tom if you calm down I can explain why I was with Seb in the first place.”

"Calm down!!? I will not fucking calm down! My phone is filled with messages and texts of condolences, of questions. You've humiliated me publicly and you tell me to calm down?!" Tom seethed. His hands flexed at his side, a death grip on his phone.

You took a step back, away from him.

“Tom I didn’t mean to humiliate you. I bumped into Sebastian, and he congratulated me on our relationship. Besides, what about that photo of you and your ex that I got tagged in on Twitter the other week?”

"That's completely different! We dated for six months. And that story was about her new project, not about me having an affair. You and Sebastian were together for three years! Three years! And in case you missed it, I am apparently out and he is in!"

“So you can be friends with your exes but I can’t be friends with mine?” Your voice trembled. You had never seen Tom so mad.

"That's not the point! The point is you didn't see the problem with being photographed with him and how it would affect me. Affects us. And if you don't see the problem with that, I'm not sure this relationship can work." Tom's shoulders slumped.

“I cannot believe that you just said that Thomas Hiddleston!” you yelled in frustration.

"I can't believe you would cheat on me. But here we are. Goodbye." Tom turned and left as quickly as he came.

Once the door slammed behind him, he only then allowed the tears to fall. As he walked down the sidewalk, with shaking hands, he punched in a familiar number.

"Ben? Can I come by? Yeah. It's about that. Thanks."

-

Ben steepled his fingers in front of his mouth as Tom stood huffing in front of him.

"If you are done with your tantrum, can I say something?"

“What?!” Tom snapped.

Ben leaned back at Tom's tone."Okay, first of all, there is no need to snap my head off. You called me. I am here to help you."

“I’m sorry Ben, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” Tom replied before sighing. “I’m just frustrated.”

"In more ways than one, I'm sure." Ben chuckled to himself.

"What I was trying to say before you turned into a small child was... exes are exes for a reason. She is a good person. I am sure there is a innocent explanation."

“Like what Ben, they just happened to bump into each other?” Tom questioned as he slumped further into Ben’s sofa.

"Perhaps. That does happen. You know how you sometimes just bump to your exes." Ben raised a knowing eyebrow. "The point is coincidences happen. And the paparazzi are ruthless. But you can't let them get inside your head."

“But it’s Sebastian Stan we’re talking about!” Tom crowed.“They were together for three years Ben, THREE YEARS! He was her first everything.”

"And you can be her last everything. But not if you don't pull your head out of arse and talk to the poor girl. Honestly, you are about to ruin the best thing in your life over a single photo."

“What do I say to her, Ben, I’ve already lost her.”

Benedict moved to sit next to Tom. He clapped his hand on Tom's knees. “Use all those big words you learned at Cambridge. Tell her you love her. Tell her you were a prized idiot for ever letting her get away. Tell her you will spend the rest of your days proving to her you are worthy of her love. Tell her she is your one.”

Tom sighed as he let Ben’s words sink in. “ Do you think you and Sophie could help me with that?”

Ben smiled. "I believe that can be arranged."

The Next Day

You awoke to a constant pounding against your front door. As you stumbled to the door, bathrobe wrapped around, you opened the door to find Sophie standing there, two coffees in hand.

"Get dressed, we're going shopping."

“Alright, alright, I’m coming hold on.” you groaned as she invited Sophie inside.

Sophie settled herself onto a kitchen chair, and slid one of the coffee cups in your direction. "Here, I got it how you like it."

“Thanks Soph, give me about twenty minutes and I’ll be ready.”

Sophie yelled after as you trot off to get ready. "I'll be waiting with bells on!"

Once you were out of sight, Sophie whipped out her phone and typed a message off to Ben.

Got her to agree to shopping. You should have several hours to get things ready. Don't fuck this up.

After an agonisingly slow twenty minutes you were ready. “Let’s go, Soph.”

"Took you long enough. I was about ready to make myself some lunch."

You shot daggers at Sophie.

"Now..." Sophie linked arms with you as both of you exited the house. "...what's new with you?"

“Oh nothing much, I bumped into Sebastian the other day and the paparazzi caught us. I think Tom’s mad at me even though we weren’t doing anything.” you explained.

"I didn't realize you and Seb were still close. How many years were you together again?" Sophie asked, acting stupid.

“We were together for three years, Soph. We still chat every so often but it means nothing. We’re friends now. But nothing more.” you replied.

Sebastian and you broke because of many things. Partially because of the long distance, and also the fact that you wanted to settle down and have a few children. Sebastian wanted to pursue his acting career longer before settling down with a wife and kids. He still wanted the life of a bachelor.

”Have you told Tom that? Or the reasons you and Sebastian broke up?"

“I tried to Sophie, but he stormed out of my house before I could. He didn’t even say goodbye.” you sighed.

"Try harder. He looks like he is made of marble, but his heart is as fragile as glass. He must care about you to have such a vehement reaction."

“I know, I know, but I have no idea how to tell him. It’s hard for me to express myself, you know?”

“For two such sensitive and dramatic people, the both of you are horrid at saying what you feel." Sophie taunted. "How about calling him up and saying 'I love you' and I want to be with you and only you?"

“That is the sort of thing you say in person.” you responded.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Sophie grabbed your arm and pulled you down the street off towards Tom's.

-

“Ben, has Sophie text you yet to see when she’s bringing you here?” Tom asked as he paced up and down his kitchen.

Benedict fished his phone out of his pocket. As he scrolled through his messages, his eyes widened. "They are on their way over right now."

“Shit!” mumbled a panicked Tom.

“How do I look? Do I look ok? Do I smell?” Tom asked a smirking Benedict.

Benedict picked at Tom's sweater, smoothing it out. "Like sex on a stick, mate." He gave Tom a wink.

“Ok, ok I can do this...” Tom whispered to himself as the doorbell rang. Tom whipped back around to Ben for a moment. "No, I can't! You answer the door." Tom shoved Benedict towards the foyer.

"Are you serious!?" Ben protested. "This is your house and if I answer the door, it will be even more awkward than it already is. So man up and answer the damn door!" Benedict pushed Tom hard causing him to stumble, falling against the front door.

"Is everyone alright in there?" Sophie's voice called out from the other side of the door.

“Just a moment!” Tom yelled back.

“Ok what do I say to her, do I say hi or hello or—“ Tom rambled only to get cut off by Ben.

"I swear to God man, if you don't open that door right now and let my wife and your girlfriend in right this second, I am telling this story at your wedding. Pull yourself together!" Ben hissed before disappearing to the kitchen.

“Ok I got this.” Tom said as he opened the door.

"About bloody time." Benedict muttered just out of sight.

"Tom!" Sophie greeted him with a warm hug. “Guess who I brought with me." She tugged you into view.

“Hello ladies.” Tom greeted the pair with a smile. "Please come on in.”

You shuffled in behind Sophie and gave Tom an awkward smile.

"So... Thomas," Sophie interjected. "Where is my impossible husband?"

“Ah, he’s in the kitchen.”

"Then I shall see myself that way." Sophie exited before giving time for either of you to protest.

“So Tom how are you?” you asked awkwardly as you stepped into the living room.

"I've been better." Tom commented as he followed you into the room. He offered you her favourite spot on the sofa which you took and he sat down in the chair across from her. "And you?"

“I’ve had better days. We need to talk about yesterday.”

"I'm sorry I overreacted.” Tom started in. “It's just that you were dating Sebastian for so long and this relationship is new. I worried about losing you." Tom reached out to grab your hand, giving it a slight squeeze. "And I care about you too much to have that happen."

“No I’m the one who should apologise, I didn’t tell you I bumped into Sebastian before you saw those photos.” You squeezed his hand back before continuing. “I care about you too, and I should have been upfront about everything at the start of our relationship. I guess I was scared of losing you too.”

Tom chuckled. "Sounds like both of us are just a bunch of sorry fools. Forgive me?" He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

“Of course I forgive you, will you forgive me too?”

Tom leaned over, his hand ran along the curve of your cheek. "Always, my love." He pressed his lips against hers for a moment.

Only to be interrupted by cheers from the kitchen.

Tom chuckled. "I believe we have an audience. Come out, you two!" He called out to Ben and Sophie.

“So now that that’s out of the way, what is that delicious smell?” you asked as you sniffed the air.

Benedict poked his head around the corner. "Steak frites. Your favourite."

Sophie snuck around the corner. "Now if you don't mind us, we need to get back to the babysitter. We'll show ourselves out."

Once Sophie and Ben left, you turned to Tom with your arm stretched out. “Come eat with me please?”

"With pleasure."

[johnkrrasinski]

the chain on your neck; 

full masterlist

Pairings: Steve Rogers x female!reader 

Word count: 2,291

Warning: too much fluff probably 

Summary: Steve Rogers came home to you after a delayed return and brought something special for you. 

a/n: i was listening to call it what you want by taylor swift (well, it would be pretty obvious for my swiftie followers lol) anyways, i was really inspired by the line “i want to wear his initial on a chain round my neck” and that to me, has always been one of my favorite lyrics of reputation. also, the title was inspired by that exact line from you are in love. so here’s a steve rogers fic predicated on that line! hope you like it. please leave a like and comment. ❤

It was 9.30am on a Sunday morning in New York. Normally, you would take your sweet time to stretch in your bed and turn slowly to the other way around to gaze lovingly at your boyfriend. It was a rare sight to see him in such a serene state, so you didn't have the heart to wake him. It was lovely to see him without the wrinkles on his forehead and furrowed brows because he was carrying so much on his shoulders. His duties as Captain America, the missions, the battles, the reports, the urgent late night calls, the miscreants had clearly took a toll on him.

And you being his girlfriend, it was crystal clear to you how often he would put on a facade to be the backbone of the Avengers. Because, everyone is relying on him. There were innocent folks that needed his protection. There were little kids looking up to him. He didn't have the luxury to pour a couple tears to lay off some steam or have a mental breakdown in public. He had to be strong and steady.

Often times, when the fight really did a damage on him and it was written all over his face, he would try to hide it away from you. You knew he needed you, you knew he needed your comforting touch to ground him. He wouldn't ask for it though, he would simply undress himself out of the grimy suit and wordlessly wrapped himself around you. The feel of your skin against his kept him sane throughout all the worst missions he'd ever gone through.

So when you had the chance to just take a minute and enjoy this brief moment of life simply letting your boyfriend be... Human, you cherish and savor every single second of it.

That's your usual Sunday morning routine. But not today, today you woke up in a cold bed alone because the love of your life had gone to another mission in Prague four days ago, and he was supposed to come back last night. You were feeling grouchy because you didn't get your morning cuddles and kisses and Steve's morning cuddles and kisses were like coffee to other people. They need their morning boost to start off their day.

Delayed returns were part of the job. There was always unexpected incidents that required immediate attention of whoever took the mission. And the behest is that, you do not come home before the mission was truly taken care of.

So instead of sulking all day in bed, you leisurely check your phone and send him a good morning text. You figured that it would ease the feeling of missing him. You knew better than to wait around for an instant reply. You were not allowed to check your phone under any circumstances during missions unless you are safe and sound in your hotel room. So you decided to get yourself out of bed and washed your face and brushed your teeth.  

After your daily morning routine, you went to the kitchen to cook yourself some early meal. Nat, Tony, Wanda, Vision, Rhodey and Clint were already there in the middle of their breakfast. They greeted you in your not-so-cheerful state.

"Good morning, kid." Tony was the first one to speak up.

"Hey Tony." In an indifferent tone. You just weren't in the mood to socialize because you missed your boyfriend terribly, and you just really wanted to spend your Sunday morning with him.

"Someone's in a grumpy mood." Natasha spoke up. The woman was always too good in seeing right through people.

"Not really, I'm just hungry." You retorted. Again, with that disinterested attitude.

"Hungry for some food or a certain super soldier, cause I've seen you hungry for actual food y/n, it wasn't like this."

"Okay! You're right. I'm missing my boyfriend and I'm so goddamn worried. He hasn't contacted us since last night, when he was supposed to come home. I texted him this morning and he still hasn't answered. What if something had happened to him and he wasn't able to send a message? What if he got stuck somewhere where he can't find a signal? What if he-"

"Sweetie, I think you are getting yourself too worked up. Just take a deep breath and eat some breakfast, yeah? I'll make you some coffee to ease your nerves." Wanda politely interrupted you. Out of all people, she knew exactly what the feeling was like. Aside from being able to read people's minds, she had actually lost so many of her loved ones, so she understood your overwhelming fears.

You put your head in your hands and took a deep breath and exhaled. You were getting too worked up and you needed to clear your head because freaking out is clearly not going to solve anything or give you any answers. It's not going to turn whatever situation Steve was stuck in and provide you a call or a text from him out of nowhere.

And you didn't realize how hungry you had been until your stomach started to make some growling noises that told you you needed some nourishment.

"Yeah, okay, I'm gonna cook something up."

Just as you pushed your chair back and stood on your feet, Friday's voice alerted everyone from the tranquil state of the room. "Captain Rogers, sergeant Barnes and Mr. Wilson are about to land in 5 minutes."

As everyone in the room had realized what was happening, they all immediately got on their feet and ran to the where the helipad was placed. You, on the other hand was overwhelmed with a sense of relief and joy. Because your boyfriend has come home and in one piece. You were about to see his beautiful sapphire eyes again and you couldn't wait any longer. You wanted to be the first one to welcome him home as soon as he lands.

As the quinjet landed on the ground and the door opened up wide, revealing your boyfriend and your friends, Bucky and Sam on his sides, walking out limping but still with that warm, familiar smile on his face because he finally saw you. Four days had felt way too long for being overseas from you.

He instantly ran as fast as he possibly could to you and grabbed you by your waist and carried you off the ground in a tight embrace. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your luscious scent. You couldn't see his face because you were also burying your own face in his neck, but you could feel him smiling so widely because he was home and you were in his arms now.

"God, I've missed you so much, baby."

You moved your face to the front of his and pressed your foreheads together.

"I've missed you too, baby. So fucking much." You sniffled. In that moment it was just you and him, because you had been without each other for way too long to have a care about anything else in the world. Four days felt like four thousand years. It might seem dramatic but that's what happens when you are madly in love.

"I know baby, I know. I'm here now, it's okay." He kissed you, it was brief but it held more meaning than words. You closed your eyes as you relished in the feeling of him. Pressed up against you and tangible. Not a looming presence in your room, not a ghost in your dreams, not a whispered name in your prayers.

He put you down as threw his arm around your neck to keep you close. You both walk in each other's embrace to your room. Luckily, he didn't bring home any severe wounds that would require an immediate & extensive care. He could go straight to his own bed, take a warm shower and change into his pyjamas so he could lie in his cozy bedstead with you. Really, that's all he really wanted right now.

Steve Rogers was a man of sentiment. Not a lot of people saw it but, it's factual. You were lucky enough to witness the way this man displayed his affections and the way he'd never let you doubt his love and loyalty a single second. He was an assertive and a solemn leader to the team, especially when he had to save the world and faced the government. But you knew his tender heart way too well to let it affect you behind closed doors. You love him for the man he chose to be even when he didn't.

After you both wash yourself off the dirt, you put on one of his hoodies that literally swallowed your smaller figure. You looked so tiny and adorable in his shirts, he never minded that he'd often have trouble finding a certain shirt. It was always his hoodies, sweaters and old shirts that he rarely wore anymore. If she claimed it, then it's hers. No room for argument. Not that he'd try anyway.

She was drying her hair with the hairdryer in the small mirror of her bathroom when he walked in with nothing but his sweatpants on, he stared into her beautiful eyes in the mirror with a smile. "I got something for you."

"Yeah? What is it?" She smiled back at his reflection in the mirror.

He pulled out a lovely navy blue box with a silver ribbon on top of it. It made her turn around with an inquisitive look. She moved her eyes directly to the box in his calloused hands. He opened the lid cautiously, fearing that she might not like the surprise. Because even Captain America is still scared of rejections, he was trained for orders and enemies, but no one taught him that the little, sickly guy from Brooklyn would be rejected by  a lot of women who couldn't see him past his appearance. And certainly, no one  prepared him for the rejection from the love of his life. His past fears are clouding his mind and taking over his emotions before she even said a word.

The navy blue box revealed a beautiful piece of jewelry, specifically, a golden vintage necklace that hang up the letter "S" in the middle of its rounder. The red rose adornment on the left side of it only added the exquisite intricacies to it. And the antiquated piece of leaf on the other side enhanced more of its charm.  She couldn't help the desire to touch the charming piece with her own fingers. She delicately curled them around the rustic chain, deliberately picked them up closer to her sight; she was charmed by it.

"Do you like it?" Steve spoke up timidly, as if he was doubting his own choice, he really wanted her to like it. He nervously stared into her eyes, waiting for her answer.

"I love it, Steve." She returned that restlessness expression on his handsome face with a fond smile. She loved it. She truly loved it and she meant it. She wasn't even faking it to spare his feelings, she genuinely became attached to it even if she hadn't even hung it around her own neck yet.

"Where did you get it from?" She continued. Her curiosity knocked on the moment.

"There was this local gift shop in Prague, it looked really old and small but still had its own charm, you know? I was walking around one night..." He looked distant for a second. "Couldn't sleep, the mission really carried a weight that day. I just kept walking, taking in the fresh midnight air until I found the shop... It drew me in."

Steve's face changed from an agitated expression to pure delight. He couldn't wait any longer to see it encircle the shape of her neck, so he asked; "do you want me to put it on you?"

"Please." She turned around to face the mirror again and waited for Steve to unclasp the hook of the necklace. She could feel his warm, steady breath on the back of her neck and this is the kind of intimacy not a lot of people talk about, but oh, how much it mattered in the moment.

When the necklace was on, she took her time to soak it in, how divine it looks on her now, she didn't think she could go anywhere without this necklace being a part of her. She pressed her thumb on every inch of this necklace, it really is a part of her now.

He is now wrapping his bulky arms around her shoulders and put his head right on the right side of hers. He looked at her reflection in the mirror. "You know why I chose this necklace?" He left a swift kiss on the right side of her neck where he was just resting his head on.  

"Why?"

"Because it's the closest thing to your heart, and that's where I'm always supposed to be."

She didn't realize tears had started brimming in her eyes, the tenderness and sincerity in his voice made her realize just how lucky she was to possess such love him, and to have that love returned in if not, a greater measure than she ever hoped for.

"I love you, you know that?" It was rhetorical, she knew damn well  that he had it ingrained deep in the back of his head that she loved him. Desperately, utterly and irrevocably.  And so did he to her. It was more than a mere declaration but rather a vow, that it would be bounded to their souls for eternity. In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, 'till death do us part.

"I love you too, angel."

[sleepy-exe]

Shapeshifter AU - 6

Iwaizumi x f!reader

<< Part 5 | Part 7 >>

Summary: Mizuki and Y/n have a girls’ night after getting ditched by someone else again. Y/n wants to see Iwaizumi again. Sakusa is done with her shit. 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

Genre: sfw (for now, 18+ regardless), shapeshifter au, strangers to lovers

a/n: Is Mizuki modeled after my own friend that I lovely dearly? Maybe.

Part 6: Girls’ Night

Soft lofi beats play softly in the background. Steam in the air gives the bathroom lights a glowing halo around each lightbulb. Bathtub filled with hot water, a thick layer of bubbles on top. Phone resting in one hand as Y/n relaxed in her bath, unwinding for the evening.

With a sigh, she sunk further into the tub, water splashing her chest. Another night that Mizuki’s plans were canceled. Another night Y/n would likely be the backup plan. Not that she minded being second choice. Mizuki is a major social butterfly, more than Y/n can handle on her own all of the time. So she welcomed not being the first choice every time.

She rested her head back and closed her eyes, hand with the phone hanging over the edge of the tub. Her friend’s night may need to be rescued, but it's not like it's an emergency or anything. She could take some time to enjoy her bubble bath first, right?

Sudden ringing jerked her from her relaxed state.

Or not..

Glancing at her phone she could see Mizuki was trying to video call her. With a groan she denied the call and sat up, quickly texting before her friend could call again.

>> To ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “not now in the bath”

>> From ‘My Best Bitch <3’: “so?”

Her phone started ringing again and with another groan Y/n shifted lower into the tub once more, fishing bubbles to her chest before answering the call. With a tap, Mizuki was now looking right at her through the screen. “Can’t a girl enjoy her bath?”

“Don't sound so grumpy! Anyway, like I was saying, A-“

Checking in the little box in the corner that displayed her own face, she made sure she was covered enough.

“Are you even listening? Ugh, you’re acting like I’ve never seen you naked before.” The aggravated woman snarled through her screen.

“Sorry, sorry! And yes, he’s at the gym with Sakusa tonight. I already knew that.”

“But our plans!” The video shook as Mizuki moved about.

“No, your plans, Mizu’. Girl, I love you to death, but making plans with someone’s gotta go both ways. He didn't even know about your plans before he planned to go with ‘Kusa, did he?” She spoke calm but sternly. “I can’t say that’s his fault, dove.”

Mizuki was frowning, “Sigh! I guess you’re right, okay? But I was really hoping we could have gone out tonight, but he’s too busy with Sakusa.” Her frown faded to curiosity. “Say.. Do you think there’s anything go-”

“Mizu’!”

“Yeah yeah. They just spend a lot of time together is all.”

“They’re friends, colleagues, and neighbors and only one of them has a car. Of course they're together a lot. Besides, you spend every day with someone and yet you’re single, right?  That doesn’t mean anything.” She slipped further into the bath, knees poking out of the water and popping some bubbles with her free hand.

“Unfortunately, I am single! Otherwise I’d be spending my time with my date!”

“Uh huh,” emotionless she brought her attention back to her friend.

“Anyway..” Mizuki squinted at her. “How’s your love life going, huh? Pretty sure you’re married to your work.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Have any cute guys or gals around.”

“Mizuki,” she whined.

“What? We can’t all four be lonely and starving for intimacy,” she sang, batting her eyelashes.

“I’m not sure that any of us could possibly be lonely as much as we are around each other,” she said dryly, earning a whine from her friend. “And as far as I know, you’re the only one searching for.. intimacy.”

“Uh huh. Didn’t you spend your time with someone like two nights ago? Or did you just forget to let Sakusa know when you got home.”

Y/n looked away from her phone as if she was messing with something off screen so Mizuki didn't see her blush.

I messaged ‘Kusa that morn-.

Oh. Right.

“Mhmm. So who is this guy that you left me all alone for in my time of need?”

“You weren't alone,” she eyed her friend.

“I may as well have been without my sweet, dear Y/n.”

She tapped the side of the tub in annoyance. “So are you coming over or not?”

“Duh, I’m on my way already. Have you even been paying attention? I’ll see you in five!” She flashed her hand to the screen displaying five fingers.

“What!” Y/n lurched forward.

She cackles loudly. “So much not seeing you naked.”

Covering her chest with her available arm, she stood and pulled her phone close to her face. Scowling at the realization, “Really, Mizuki?!”

Throwing on shorts and a baggy sweater just in time for Mizuki to bang on the front door, Y/n raced over and let her in. She quickly locks the door again before rushing back to her bedroom. “Come on, Mizu’.”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” She chased after Y/n after removing her shoes and coat.

Mizuki walked in the bedroom to find her friend laying across her bed. And of course she flopped down beside her. “Can we get takeout?”

“You just got here!”

She whined, “But Y/n! You don't want to go out and I was hoping to go out to eat!”

“Ugh, okay.” She rolled to her side. “You order the takeout and pick something to watch, okay?”

“Okay! I have the app for that yummy noodle place down the road.”

“Cool. I just hate calling places.” She rolled again, this time onto her stomach and locked a leg around one of Mizuki’s.

Mizuki laughed. “Girl, don't you call places for work?”

“Yeah, but that’s different.”

“I don't see how ordering food over the phone is worse than that.” She tossed her phone next to Y/n’s head. “Put what you want on there.”

She orders from that noodle place enough to enter her order in a few swift clicks. “Here.” She handed the phone back then unhooked her leg from Mizuki and crawled across the bed to get her own phone.

“Aight, it's in!”

There was a sudden blaring for all of two seconds. “Oh look, if it isn’t your bestie.” She brought the phone to her ear, “Hey, shithead.. What?”

At least she didn't put him on speaker. Together they were always so loud.

Unlocking her own phone, she opened her messages.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “you ratted me out to MIZUKI??”

A text from Iwaizumi popped up before Sakusa had even read her message. So she went back and forth between the two chats to talk to each of them.

>> From ‘zumi’: “Oikawa is on the plane. Idk if you planned to still talk to him but there's a major time distance where he lives. Just a heads up.”

>> From ‘zumi’: “Sorry if he freaked you out earlier”

>> From ‘zumi’: “He can be loud”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “Punishment for not letting me know that you didn't get murdered.”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “I did text you yesterday!”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “Not when you got home.”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “I did forget.. But to be fair I wasn’t home until almost noon”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “I’m sure Mizuki is asking plenty of questions and loving that.”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “I just like to know you’re safe when you start check-in texts like that. It’s not like I care what you do.”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’)’: “Well as long as you aren’t being careless on your runs again.”

Internally moaning, she looked over her shoulder. Mizuki was still on the phone walking laps around the room.

>> To ‘zumi’: “no no he’s great! And thanks for the heads up. Let me know when he's back safe?”

>> To ‘zumi’: “Sorry to run out i really did need to get going and i wanted to let you have time with Oikawa before he left”

Suddenly, Mizuki jumped onto the bed. “So anyway. What were we talking about?”

“Uhh.. I don’t know.” Y/n kicked at her playfully. “How long until the food is here?”

>> From ‘zumi’: “Will do”

>> To ‘zumi’: “maybe I’ll see you again”

Mizuki grabbed her legs to avoid getting hit. “It’ll be quick. Who ya texting?”

“Just Sakusa,” she lied.

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “So here’s the thing.”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “I didnt get spotted or anything! I’ve learned my lesson”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “That will never happen again!”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “But the guy I met at the bar may have been the guy that might have spotted me that night I was with you.”

Mizuki moaned, “Why’d he steal my dinner buddy?”

She snorted. “Maybe you should ask him.”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “Y/n what the hell”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “It’s fine!”

She clapped. “Done. Maybe he’ll feel bad and let me go next time.”

“You? At the gym?” She laughed.

Mizuki threw a pillow which whacked the back of Y/n’s head and bounced to the floor. They both laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. I don't wanna work out or be around some stinky guys.” She got up and walked up to the window, picking up the pillow and tossing it back on the bed. “Man, I really need to move. My window just faces a parking garage. Boring!”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “Is it?”

>> From ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “Is it still a ‘maybe’ seen you?”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa): “I think it’s fine.”

“Girl, you have the money. When’s your lease up?”

>> From ‘zumi’: “Hopefully not by accident next time.”

Oh?

“Ugh! Not for like six more months,” Mizuki complained.

“Well, I can help keep an eye out for available units here. But why don’t you make a list of places you think you’d like.”

“Yeah, that sounds real fun.”

“Funner than waking up to the slight of a parking garage?”

“Oh you ass!” She balled up a shirt from the floor to chuck at Y/n, but a knock at the front door caught her attention. “Food is here! I’ll go get it.”

“Thank you, Mizu’.”

>> To ‘Emergency Contact (‘Kusa’): “It’s fine. I was just keeping an eye on him is all.”

>> From ‘zumi’: “Do you go to the park during daylight hours or is that strictly an after hours thing for you?”

“Hey girly!” Mizuki popped her head through the doorway. “I've got the goods and Netflix is ready. Come on!”

Y/n rolled out of bed. “Alright, alright. Let’s get this girls’ night started, yeah?”

>> To ‘zumi’: “depends..”

>> To ‘zumi’: “are you asking to go with me next time?”

Part 7>>

[kayrogers]

to all the girls i've loved before ][ p.  parker

a tatbilb au

Paring(s): LJ!tom holland x PK!reader

Inspo: TATBILB cause Peter is a total soft boi and also I'm a slut for rom-coms

Word Count: 1700+

Warning(s): cursing and awkward kissing

Part: prologue | part ??

A/N: this has literally been a draft in my notes for like over a year, but college has been creatively hitting me in the stomach with a baseball bat so I only wanted to start it when I got a semi-break. Obvs updates will not be regular just like everything else I write because I am the worst, but I mean thanks in advance if ya read it!

‘ Dear [Y/n] [Y/l/n],

First of all, I refuse to call you [Y/l/n]. You think you’re so cool, going by your last name all the sudden. Just so you know, that only makes you one of the guys. That’s it.

Did you know that I didn’t stop thinking about our kiss every time I saw you in school for at least the rest of seventh grade? Sometimes I think you do. Because you always seem to know everything. And you always smile when you see me blushing like you know you’re the reason why. That’s what I hate about you. Because you do just know, or at least you act like it. You’re too cool to be bothered by anything, or be wrong EVER.

Well here are some things you don’t know that I think:

You swear all the time and say the grossest things. I’ve heard every dirty joke Flash has ever made, and you beat him without trying! And you just assume everyone will think it’s cute cause you’re a pretty girl and you curse. And if they don’t, who cares, right? Wrong! You care. You care a lot about what people think of you.

You always show us bugs you think are cool and it’s gross. That’s terrifying and I hate when you stick them in my face cause I’m grossed out. It’s rude.

You’re so good at everything. Too good. I have to try harder around the guys to be half as cool as you.

You kissed me for no reason! You knew Flash wanted to kiss you. Everyone knew that Flash wanted to kiss you. He made all of us spit-shake on not kissing you if we ended up in the closet for 7 minutes in heaven because he liked you. But you still did it. Why? I wanted my first kiss to be special, and with my future girlfriend. All romantic, you know? That’s what it was supposed to be. And it wasn’t any of that. Thanks to you it was the most un-special kiss it could be AND I got my ass kicked by Flash!

The stupidest part is, that kiss made me like you. I never did before. Didn’t think of you as anything but one of the guys. Flash has always said you’re the prettiest girl we know. And yeah, that’s true. But I still didn’t LIKE you. Missed the hook that every other guy was on in middle school. A lot of people are beautiful. Doesn’t make them interesting or intriguing or cool.

Is that why you kissed me? Cause I was the only one who wasn’t wrapped around your finger? Well it worked! Ever since then, I saw you. I mean really looked at you. Behind every scratch, bump, and bruise from whatever sport you were playing, I saw you. How you weren’t just beautiful, that word isn’t good enough. You just exist effortlessly.

And yes, I did go through the thesaurus for that adjective. You’re hard to describe, [Y/n].

After you kissed me, I liked you for the rest of seventh grade and almost all of eighth. It’s not easy watching you with Flash. It’s also not easy when he shoves it in my face all the time cause he doesn’t like me anymore. So thanks for that! But I get it, if I had you I wouldn’t be able to shut up about you either. You make him feel special. Because that’s what you do, right? You’re good at making people feel special.

But not me anymore. I haven’t really seen you over the past year. And any time I do, you’re with Flash. Your spell has worn off [Y/n] [Y/l/n]. I am proud to say that I am once again the only boy in school to not be hooked into you. All because I got too much of you at once and now I don’t think I’ll want to be under that spell ever again.

What a relief!

Peter Benjamin Parker ’

You felt your brows furrow, cheeks equally red from a shyness you hadn’t felt in years and slight anger. Clearly he wrote this years ago, but why send it now? Right after Flash cheated on you?!

Did he like you? Did he hate you? Why did you care? It was just Peter-fucking-Parker.

You purse your lip, placing the letter back on the desk. Your blood boiled, heart skipping a beat. Every single reaction in your body was opposing and you hated how much it affected you.

So what would be the best course of action? To act like it didn’t effect you at all. At least, that’s what you saw as the right decision. It’d be easy, just let Parker down and tell him you didn’t feel the same. Because maybe that’s what this was? Maybe Peter did fall back “under your spell” and now that you were finally single he had to tell you? That was the only idea which came to your mind anyways.

You looked over at your closet, eyes focusing on your favorite shirt. It was a white crew neck sweater decorated in the entomology of beetles, and you decided you would be wearing that to turn him down.

“Don’t like my bugs? Yeah okay, Dickhead.” You muttered and pulled the item out before forming the rest of the outfit which consisted of running shorts and sneakers. Classy, right?

You took a picture of the letter before folding it back up and placing it into the envelope. Why? Well not that you’d admit it, but you were never complimented like that before. And that part of the letter made you feel kinda nice actually. He paid attention to you back then, which could have been sweet once upon a time. Now? Now you didn’t know how to feel about it and that bothered you immensely. 

Later, in school, You mulled over how you would confront the boy. It was weird, really weird. You and Peter hadn’t really talked since middle school and the most the two of you interacted in high school was you apologizing for Flash being a dick to him about 24/7. And now he was apparently infatuated with you once and you had to tell him that you didn’t feel the same. But as the clock ticked on, you knew you had at least one class with him and that was gym.

 You anxiously gripped the letter in your hand, jogging along the track and looking for a familiar set of brown curls. It didn’t take long for you to catch up with him, spotting Peter and Ned half-walking the whole thing while the gym teacher wasn’t looking.

“Yo Parker! Wait up a second.” You called and his head whipped around, his eyes instantly going to your sweater.

‘Do bugs really bother him that much?’ You thought and held back a frown before shrugging it off. There were more important matters.

“Nice shirt! Is it accurate?” Ned instantly chirped up and you let yourself smirk, he always had such an excited demeanor in a way that could light up a room if anyone bothered to notice him.

“You think you’d catch me wearing pseudoscience? What the hell do you take me for?” That smirk grew into a smile as you spoke to Ned, not noticing the pale color staining Peter’s face. Because while you were focused on Ned, Peter was focused on you. 

Specifically, the letter in your hand.

“You’re right, I apologize. What brings you over here anyways? You usually lap us twice by now.” You looked over to Peter while Ned talked, watching how he was unable to even look up from your hand.

“I wanted to talk to Peter, actually…  alone?” You scratched the back of your neck while Ned let out a big ‘ohh’ and quickly made himself scarce.

The boy looked more nervous than you had ever seen him, running his hands through his hair so much that every knot could have been plucked out by now. 

“What um- what’s up, [Y/n]?”

 “Listen, I’m gonna make this quick to save both of us the awkwardness. I think it’s really nice that you think I’m one of the prettiest girls in our grade and stuff… but me and Flash just broke up and I really don’t see you that way-”

The only thing you heard from him was an exasperated ‘what?’ before practically watching the boy fall in slow motion. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you gasped out loud when his head hit the ground.

“Oh my god, Peter!” Dropping to the ground after him, you immediately move his hair from his eyes and wave your hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay? Parker? Do you know your name? What day is it?” You gave a choppy version of the concussion questions your coaches asked after a particularly bad hit to the head, panic evident in your eyes.

‘Did I just concuss this kid?!’ you thought wildly.

Slowly, he sat up, taking a couple breaths while you kept your hand on his shoulder. “You weren’t supposed to see that,” he said exasperated and you watched his eyes grow twice their size as he glanced to his left.

Storming towards the two of you was a recognizable scowl, an envelope in her hand. Michelle Jones. She was MJ to you, once upon a time, but you couldn’t think of the last time the two of you said a word to each other.

“Oh god!” Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing your attention yet again.

In a blink, the boy had managed to grab your waist and pin you underneath him, one hand was gently caressing your head while the other wrapped underneath you. You couldn’t even take a breath before his lips were on yours, surprise flooding your system. His lips were soft and you hadn’t even realized how your body instantly reacted to him as if you had done this a thousand times before, kissing him in a quick but simple rhythm. But once your brain did register it? You grabbed his face, separating the two of you.

“Parker, the fuck?!-”

“Bye!” He blurted out before letting go of you and running off at a speed you didn’t even think was possible for him.

So this left you, alone, confused, and strangely breathless on the ground.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist(s):

tatgilb -

permanent - 

@ultrunning​ @jesseswartzwelder​

[oikawa-tuwu]

Linen Closet (gn!Reader x Kiyoko)

Rated G, 1.3k words

Not Home for the Holidays Masterlist

“Are you... crying in a linen closet?”

When you’re a child, crying is a catharsis. Stub your toe, cry a little, get up and keep playing. Pain, physical or emotional, was temporary, and tears were as good of a placebo painkiller as it got. It used to feel so good to cry. Children aren't exactly eloquent creatures when it comes to emotions or injuries, so when worst comes to worst… cry about it and keep going.

Eventually, crying becomes less of a catharsis and more of a guilty pleasure, except with less of the pleasure and more of the guilt. It might feel good in the moment, but, god forbid, you accidentally burden anyone else with your troubles, because, frankly, that would just be embarrassing for both parties, so crying is left for quiet nights in your cold bed or sniffles held back by a thread on your way home or, in this case, frustrated explosions of emotion in the linen closet of your bed and breakfast.

But we all grow up eventually.

Another shudder wracks your chest, a sob letting loose before you can clamp your mouth shut. You know, from unfortunate experience, just how thin the walls of this old house really are, and the last thing you want is for Maria, your employee, changing sheets next door, to decide to investigate those weird noises.

You try to take a calming breath. In. Out. In. Out. 

It's not so much breathing as it is wheezing, but it's getting oxygen in your lungs, so who are you to complain?

And then you think about it again.

It. Whatever the hell it is.  Money problems, relationship problems, mental health problems, all of the above problems piling on top of each other like a snowstorm until the front door won’t open-

Another whimper, about ten decibels louder than ideal, and you hold your breath and you hear footsteps. Pass, please. Pass this door and move on. Nothing interesting here.

The door opens.

For a second, all you see is a silhouette. About average height, skinny and lithe, like a runner, with dark hair. And then the light adjusts, and you see her face. She’s beautiful, no doubt about it, and with the halo your (slight) lightheadedness from the crying session, the scene is somewhat… holy… in nature.

But she’s frowning, and the worried expression is rather upsetting to see on such a beautiful face.

The woman asks, carefully, “Are you… crying in a linen closet?”

Your mouth, apparently working faster than your brain, asks, "Are you an angel?"

Silence. Well, mostly silence, because your brain is currently screaming.

"That was a weird thing to say. Sorry."

Thankfully, the woman laughs. She laughs, and you melt, firstly glad that she's laughing it off, but also because her laugh is melodic. "Trust me, that's not the first time I've heard that one. But... uh," she hesitates, looking you over, and you remember that five seconds you were bawling your eyes out. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you say, and brush away the last of your tears. Thankfully, seeing her was enough of a shock to stop them for now, but you have a feeling you haven't seen the last of them today. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. After all, I'm sure you didn't expect to spend your vacation dealing with an overly emotional host."

"You'd be surprised," the woman says, with a soft smile that speaks of a quiet inside joke, possibly, an inside joke for her alone. "Let's just say I've been in a somewhat similar situation before. My best friend used to have pretty bad anxiety. Actually, she's the one that checked us in yesterday, Yachi Hitoka?"

The name rings a bell. "Short, blonde, blushes a lot?"

"That's her."

Ah. You were wondering when you'd get to see the second of Yachi’s party, since she requested a room with two single beds. And here she was right in front of you. An angel on earth.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

An angel.

"No, thanks. It's sweet of you to offer, but..."

But you don't even know why you're crying.  It could be any number of things. Being (relatively) alone during the holidays, stress from your job, or just plain sadness and loneliness. Missing family, missing friends, wanting hot chocolate but knowing full well you ran out a week ago and haven't restocked yet. It could be any and all of those reasons and isolating a single culprit is nearly impossible.

“It’s just a lot,” you end up saying. “The holidays. Everyone likes to talk about the good parts, the food, the celebration, the presents… that you end up forgetting the bad parts too. Until they’re staring straight at you.”

No one likes to mention that your room feels colder in the winter without someone else there to warm it. No one likes to mention that your house feels emptier without the laughter and conversation of kin.  No one likes to mention the stress of throwing together a holiday dinner or coming up with the perfect gift idea or looking at your bank account and realizing you might need to rethink some things.

And there it comes again, that wave, and you blink, blink, blink, praying the tide will recede until the next time you get the chance to be alone. A cocktail of anxiety and guilt and salt slowly rising, rising, rising. This woman shouldn’t have to see you like this, you don’t even know each other, and honestly, it's a little unfair to burden one of your guests with your emotional problems and-

“You’re spiralling again, aren’t you?” The woman asks, in that soft voice of hers, and you wonder when you got so transparent that a literal stranger can tell when you’re close to breaking.

The dam cracks, and the tears start to fall again. “I’m sorry,” you manage to get out. “I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with this-”

Instead of saying anything, agreeing or disagreeing, the woman drops to her knees, crouching down next to where you’re sitting on the bucket. She looks up at you, her hand holding yours, and says, very softly, “Stop apologizing.”

Amazingly, you do. You close your mouth and let the tears flow, with the woman still there, offering hand squeezes and quiet company through your mental breakdown.

It’s… nicer than you expect it to be, just having someone there. She doesn’t say anything else, but you know she’s there to talk it out if you really needed to. For now, she’s willing to sit there and listen to your woes and remind you that there’s someone out there that does care when you’re struggling.

So you cry. You cry and the guilt and frustration slowly lessens and all that’s left of the broken dam is an empty reservoir.

It's… cathartic.

With her sweater sleeve, the woman wipes your cheeks dry. “Better?”

“Better,” you agree, and your mouth forms the first syllable of I’m sorry, before the woman gives you a look. “Thank you. For being here with me. I do have to say though, I would have liked meeting under different circumstances. I don’t think I look incredibly attractive mid-breakdown.”

The woman shrugs, and you see a little faint dusting of blush on her cheeks as she stands, offering a hand to help you off the bucket. “I think you might be surprised.”

You smile. You take her hand, and let her haul you to your feet.

“The name’s Kiyoko, by the way.”

“Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n,” Kiyoko says, that flush still on the tips of her cheekbones as she averts her gaze, a little self-consciously. “How about the next time you need a break, you come knock on my room door and we can go out and do something to take your mind off it?”

“I’d like that.”

Ngl, I had trouble writing this one because I wasn't sure if it would be relatable enough? But I figured of all years to talk about the worst parts of the holiday season, it was this one because oh lord do the holidays remind us that covid-19 sucks butt. Anyways, this is your reminder that you're allowed to feel sad right now. You might be separated from your friends and family or maybe you had to be laid off and money is tight, or maybe you just miss the way things used to be where we could go out and do things. Maybe the holidays just aren't for you, and the negative emotions weigh out the positive ones every year. All those feelings are valid, and take this as a sign to reach out to someone if you need to. My dms are always open if you need someone to talk to <3

[lk-ramblings]

Carpe Noctem

Seize the Night

Meral x Aydın

MenajerimiAra

"I want movement, not a calm course of existence. I want excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I feel in myself a superabundance of energy which finds no outlet in our quiet life."

-Leo Tolstoy

* * *

Her thumb hovered over the number, only to be used in case of an emergency.

Well, this qualified as an emergency in her opinion. Dicle had not responded to her texts for an hour about whether she had reached Barış or not, and worry was clawing at Meral's insides. She decided to call.

'Merhaba. Aydın? This is Meral.....Dicle's housemate."

A low chuckle sounded at the other end. "Merhaba. Yes, this is Aydın, Barış's brother."

"I know who you are."

"And I know who you are."

She rolled her eyes. " Harika. I was just calling to ask if Dicle texted you or......" she trailed off, suddenly realising how awkward this was. Damn it. She was never anything less than sensible.

"Not since I texted her the address. Is there any problem?"

"Yok. Yok. I just worried since it's quite late and the neighbourhood.....well they must be talking and she forgot."

"Hmm. Yes. Talking. Probably."

She had the feeling he was laughing at her and bristled. " Well, thankyou. Sorry to bother you. Iyi geceler."

                      *     *     *

He could imagine her derisive look, the one he had seen her wearing when talking about Beren. The idea of her rolling her eyes sparked something in him and made him want to snatch the opportunity.

"Wait-"

"Yes?"

"Um....." he did not know what to say, and he was sorely out of practice with conversing about anything other than work. "Your concern for Dicle is very touching," he finished lamely.

There was silence on the other end and he could not really blame her.

"Well...thankyou I think? I hope Barış feels better and comes back soon," she sounded sincere in her goodwill and it warmed his heart, as anything related to Barış always did.

"Yes, InşAllah. I met him today, he's doing better now."

"Good to hear..."

"I was wondering, if you wanted to meet up and discuss? Barış and Dicle, yani. Or general things. Actually more of general things. Since, New Year's was fun and...."

Silence again. He was just about to make sure the call had not dropped, when she spoke, "That sounds great. Where do you want to meet?"

His heart gave an excited thump." Wherever you want."

"Oh, I have a great idea," he heard the smile in her voice that already had him looking forward to tomorrow with a new excitement.

                      *     *     *

Her favourite restaurant was roaring with white noise, the air perfumed with spices. Her mouth was watering and she was already anticipating the pleasure the meal would bring to sate her growling stomach. Even her great love of food was not enough to occupy her thoughts entirely, though.

She was nervous and excited; wondering if they would still have the connection she felt at the New Year's party. It was hard to determine what he felt from the few glances they managed to exchange at parties. Her imagined conversations, however, kept being interrupted by the couple arguing right behind her booth.

She sighed. She was just about to turn around and jump in their quarrel, when he arrived.

Meral had convinced herself that her years of romance and dizi infatution had embellished her memory of him. She had taken extra care dressing up, all the while telling herself she was being silly. Neyse, what had all the effort on that doomed Singles Party been for? Only a single glance?

She did not need to worry or dress up, she reassured herself. It was just a pair of acquaintances meeting. It could be fun even.

The reality of him exceeded her memory. He was snug in a crimson sweater, bold and festive; his hair and face shining from the outside cold. He looked brooding in a dangerous sort of way and she was suddenly glad she had gone to the extra effort.

But then he smiled and Meral was forced to consider that smiles always won over broody pouts.

"Hoş Geldin!"

"Hoş Bulduk. Pardon, did I keep you waiting? You seemed to be frustrated when I came in."

"Ha! That wasn't you." She leaned forward and lowered her voice- motioning to the booth behind her- and he did the same." I was about to join in their fascinating discussion about stocks and resolve the issue for them. As an unbiased third party."

"Ofcourse, because you are an accountancy expert."

"No, because I'm incurably nosy."

He barked a surprised laugh at her.

"Do you often get involved in things that are none of your business?" he said, trying to match her tone.

"Unfortunately, no. That's Dicle. I always gather information but only get in fights that are my business. And I win." She sent a quick prayer of thanks for the loud couple for kickstarting their conversation.

"Öyle mı?"

"Aynen."

"Speaking of Dicle, how is Kiraç Bey doing?"

"Much better!"

"Good to hear. Geçmiş olsun."

"Sağ ol."

She was just thinking they were in danger of lapsing into an awkward pause, when the waiter arrived to save them from it.

"Hoş Geldin. Meral Hanım, the usual?"

"Yes, please!"

"You come here often? I'll have what the lady is having then," Aydın said, closing the menu.

"Yes, I love this place. It's so close to our home too," she continued after the waiter had left. "You're sitting in our special booth, actually."

"Whose?"

"Dicle and mine. We always sit in the same place everytime so the staff practically has it reserved for us."

He smiled but then a teasing glint came into his eyes, "Same place, same order. You don't like new possibilities?"

She could not believe he had hit close to her vulnerable spot so quickly. Half of her wanted to welcome the exploration, delighting in someone trying to know her. The other half, the dominant, ever-sensible one wanted to retreat.

"I do. But there's comfort in familiarity. Honestly? I've realised I would thrive in a communist setting."

Aydın laughed, spluttering, the glass of water raised midway." You say the oddest things."

The pleasure of making him laugh made her glow and she relaxed. "If I have too many choices, it’s my fault if I make the wrong one. But if decisions have been made for me? Not only can I complain to my heart's content, but I also feel like I have triumphed against great odds in the struggle to become the independent woman that I am."

“You see odds in everything? I see now why you chose this job." He was regarding her with respect and curiosity. The combination made her feel heady, wanting to let her guard down.

"Why?"

"You get to calculate odds and meddle with everyone's business on a professional basis.”

It was her turn to laugh in surprise.

                       *     *     *

As they ate, they talked about everything from history, to food to dizis, the conversation darting in different directions. Meral could see his quiet intelligence, his attention to detail. She could not remember simply enjoying talking this much before. He had a ready response to everything. Words and laughter were bubbling inside her.

"I better warn Barış. You've watched too many serial killer movies and would leave no trace."

"You can relax. He's not on my hit list yet."

At his devious smile, she pointed at him with her fork. "For now. He's on my good side for now."

"Don't worry, he's a true romantic. He would never do anything that would get him on your hit list."

Her face softened into a smile, "He really his."

"You know, sometimes I feel like I'm their Teyze."

"Barış and Dicle? From a hitman to a teyze?" he grinned at her.

"Yes.Yani, I cook and clean, which I love to anyway. But then being the unwanted third wheel living in her children's house, I leave quietly once I know he's coming over."

"Oh well, I'm the teyze in our house then. You know when- " he stopped at her burst of laughter. "What?"

"I'm sorry- I just-" she said between gasps, "imagining you as a cranky teyze is- actually that's a pretty good description."

"Oh, you think so? As I was saying," he said in mock affrontery, "after Barış got shot, he was trying desperately to be alone with Dicle. But-'

He was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out and she joined in aswell.

He gathered himself and began again," But every single person we know other than Dicle was appearing at our doorstep. And, you remember, Celal Bey? He brought a mountain of food over. And then when Dicle was finally coming over, what did Barış do? Beyeffendi handed me a couple of boxes and told me to disappear."

"How cruel."

Their laughter gradually faded into comfortable smiles. "That man eats like every meal is his last meal," Meral said.

"Evet, but who does not enjoy food though?" he said with a pointed look towards her just to see her reaction and earned an olive in his face for the jab.

"Ow! How do you know how Celal Bey eats anyway?"

"I saw him. At the TV dinner? In the restaurant you recommended?"

"What?"

Her subconcious writer, which had been busy penning their story, suddenly deflated at him not even remembering their first meeting. What hope did a romance have when one party did not even remember the meet-cute? And since when was she considering this a date? Or a romance?

She shook her head and focused back to the present. His expression was serious now, devoid of all the teasing warmth.

"Yes, I remember. I'm sorry you had to see me that way. That wasn't my best behaviour."

He gazed out the window. Meral was dying to know more, to smooth over the lull in the conversation but afraid of saying the wrong thing.

Finally he met her gaze, having made a decision. "I've always been practical all my life. Had to be. Barış and my father are quite hot tempered and.....impulsive, so I was mostly making the money, holding down the jobs. Keeping the job and the peace. I don't apologise for doing what had to be done."

"Tabi canım, you don't have to explain to me. Pragmatic is my middle name." she agreed easily, yet touched that he had shared some small part of himself.

'To doing what needs to be done," she raised her çay in a toast. He smiled and some of the light heartedness returned.

"I understand that life is more than making money and looking attractive. I know I pressured Barış- even got into a fight with Dicle," he glanced at her embarrassed.

"Growing up, our mahalle just reinforced that a happy life is the type of life that photographs well. I know this isn’t true- now- but it’s hard not to think this way. I’ve internalized it."

"I know." Her voice was soft and sincere, easing some of his discomfort. "That's what our lives have become these days. If only we remember to live the moments that we love to photograph."

"Evet. How right you are."

"And this isn't off the back of some truck. This is my own wisdom." She was grateful to see him smile again.

"Gathered during hours of repetitive work. I sit in that room each day, half my mind on the numbers, half in my infinitely more adventurous world."

"You call that repetitive?! I would love that! The assurity of routine."

He sat back with a sigh. "I had so many jobs, never knowing when one would end. Mesela, my current job with Serkan Bey? I finally know some part of what each day brings."

"But don't you miss the excitement of new things?"

"I guess I would thrive in a communist setting too, Meral Hanım. But this sector already has so many new weird things happening everyday, it's never the same."

"Oh you're a veteran of 'this sector' now?"

"Absolutely. Ha! But truly I.....feel like I belong? Actually, Serkan helped me in a difficult situation and I ended up here. I realised I actually enjoy it. I find I have a talent for organising. And persuading and cajoling. Although, if you listen to the whims of all these people! You come across some complete- well I shouldn't say but- Even more than what I met as a taxi driver. I-"

He stopped and seemed to gather himself. "Just glad I have security. The comfort of certainty."

Meral was fascinated hearing him talk, his eyes lit with keen intelligence. She wished she could revel in the comfort he described, but lately she felt stuck in a rut. She had told him she did not like choices but that was not true. She yearned to take chances. Her life had become a collection of the same days, same nights out with the same people. This evening was the only thing breaking the endless monotony.

"I bet you have great stories to tell though. I love listening to stories. We get absolute weirdos at our place aswell but it's ultimately boring. I live vicariously through Dicle."

"I think we should stop talking about them as if we're the side characters."

"Yani?"

"Yani novel falan filan. We keep talking about Barış and Dicle. We should focus on us a little, I think."

His voice had dropped at the end, his eyes on her felt like a caress. Meral could feel something tugging at her to explore this new territory, to take the chance she kept telling others to. But, imagining something in your head was vastly different than having that play out in real life. She fell back on her customary sarcasm.

"Ah, novels. I see I've already corrupted your practicality. 50 points to Ravenclaw."

He had been giving her a lazy smile but groaned at her words. "You're both 'Potterheads'?"

"I thought we weren't talking about them."

"We won't. Because I don't know where to even begin about this. We watched the movies when we were younger, but apparently that's not enough and Barış has been trying to get into 'the fandom'." His voice was a mix of exasperation and affection.

She cried out in mock outrage trying to hide her glee, "Did you just air quote again? And ofcourse that is not enough. I'm glad he is on the right path."

'Neyse. And before you say anything, yes, I know I'm a Slytherin.'

'Oh absolutely," she laughed at his disgruntled form languishing in the booth.

'Ee?'

She raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"So how did you get into the wonders of accounting. I've been spilling all my secrets to you and you give nothing away. Hadi, don't make me take out my truth potion."

"Tsk, tsk. Banning magical discourse and then indulging in it yourself? Shameless."

His quick smile seemed to seep into her.

"Lütfen ya, give me something here. You mentioned you shifted to Istanbul?"

"Yes I did. But that is a story for another day. It's getting late. I think the owner might be coming to personally throw us out."

Her humour just kept surprising him anew; he could not remember when he had last laughed so much.

                       *     *     *

As they walked back to her house, he noticed her slowing slightly. "Are you tired?"

"Biraz. My soul wants to party but my body is of an old woman."

"And what do old women like doing at night?" he cringed at how it sounded.

"Well it's winter so, we drink hot chocolate wrapped in blankets, and avoid people."

"Well people are sources of warmth aswell." Damn. There she was, throwing out words in bright clusters all night, like the gentle snow falling around them.

And everything he said was coming out like an innuendo.

"I mean, figurative warmth. The pleasure of company."

She just raised her eyebrows and hid a smile behind her hand.

"We revel in solitude."

"I didn't know you were that eager to get away from me."

"Oh, you have no idea."

"I think I have some idea." There was something about her, that just made him fall into this teasing, snappy rhythm.

"But we've only met twice. That's not enough data points to form an accurate picture."

"We have met more than twice. And you're doing this on purpose aren't you?"

"What?"

"Mentioning data points now that I've confessed my love for organisation."

Her laughter rang out in the hushed street.

The snow was falling around them gently, giving everything a glittering glow. Her impish face was turned upto his, the snowflakes in her hair like diamonds and dissolving on her lips.

He had the sudden urge to taste that snowflake, run his tongue along the seam of her lips.

Something inside him held him back. He was afraid it was too soon. Afraid to burst this, whatever magic they had between them, just as it was beginning.

Meral could see the moment he decided to forego kissing, the fire in his eyes cooling as they returned to their normal lazy depths. Keen disappointnent burned inside her but was chased away by the still buzzing energy that had been between them all evening.

This evening had already proved to be much more than her normal. An outlier. She wanted to capture the bright feeling, like a firefly; bask in the light for a brief moment and then let go.

"Thankyou. It was..." Unique. Comfortable. Thlrilling, all at once. "Fun. I enjoyed spending time with you."

Surprisingly, her shyness made him bolder. "Me too. I would love to do this again." She looked up. "If you want to, I mean."

"I wasn't angling for an invitation."

"I know. But it stands regardless. I would love to do this again." He could not believe he had managed to get that out without tripping over his words.

The tentative smile on her face made him add, " I must prove I'm the ultimate teyze between us. I'll cook for you."

"Şaka?!" she gave a delighted laugh. "Well then, let the Battle of the Teyzes commence."

When he took her proffered hand, their was a slight shock, as if their bodies were completing the circuit, that energy finally finding a closed loop.

"O zaman, iyi olan kazansın," he said softly.

"Iyi olan kazansın."

"Iyi geceler. Meral." he said, finally breaking the handshake.

"Iyi geceler." She went in and turned at the doorstep. "Aydin."

His name on her lips, materialising in the cold air for a second.

He smiled that slow smile again. An outlier. An input that could start new trends, open new possibilities, change everything.

                        *     *     *