#but sharing is caring which means you all have to share my suffering thank you.

[canon-gabriel-quotes]

These will just keep getting worse, btw.

[nereidprinc3ss]

slumber party

in which there's only one bed. fem bau!reader x spencer reid

fluff! warnings/tags: dark humor, (the word molest is used jokingly once but in my defense your honor its completely on brand for early seasons cm humor, if u cancel me u have to cancel the whole cast those are the rules, its just a joke cause reader always flirts w him aggressively, pls don't come for me i have a wife and children and three boyfriends to take care of,) mutual pining, bullying and death threats as flirting, they love each other so much and bicker like children, glasses spencer, (moans), emily and rossi are mentioned bc canon means fuck all to me, i think thats it but this is my most out of pocket duo so if i'm wrong lmk a/n: just a silly little thing that i cooked up, not a masterpiece but i think its cute!! I hope u enjoy!! lmk what you think!! looooveee youuuu

“Oh, there is no way.”

Your duffel bag hits the dingy carpet as Spencer is still closing the door behind you. 

“What? Is it—”

You give him a look over your shoulder, eyebrows raised as if to say, what are you going to do about this?

But he only manages to meet your eyes for a split second before they’re back to the singular queen bed, darting over the white sheets and pillows like he might find another mattress if he looks hard enough. 

Sharing a room with Spencer, you can handle. You've done it before. Whenever the team has to pair up at a hotel, you two are an obvious choice. And while you occasionally butt heads, mostly you adore each other and it's great.

But sharing a bed is a whole other situation.

One you were not prepared for. And evidently, neither is he.

Watching his big anxious eyes flit around the room nervously, you feel sort of bad for your reaction. You know you can be a bit… abrasive, sometimes. 

“It’s fine, I’ll just—I’ll see if I can share a bed with Emily or JJ in their room—”

Just then there’s a knock at the door. Spencer looks relieved to have something else to focus on, turning back around and quickly undoing the latch again before opening the door to reveal your favorite raven-haired SSA. Emily leans past the doorjamb, eyes immediately honing in on the awkward sleeping arrangement. 

“Oh my god! You guys too?”

“What?” You and Spencer ask at the same time. Emily raises her eyebrows at this and glances between you, but otherwise doesn’t comment. 

“Me and JJ only have the one bed. I thought it might just have been us.”

You frown. There goes your plan of sharing a room with them. 

“What about Morgan and Garcia?”

Spencer snorts.

“Something tells me Penelope wouldn’t be too torn up about it if that's the case.”

“Hotch and Rossi?”

The room goes quiet and a little chilly as the thought disturbs everyone equally. Emily frowns deeply.

“I don’t even… I can’t picture that.”

“Can we please not try to picture it?”

“Great. Okay, well. I just wanted to make sure everyone is suffering equally. Good luck, champs.”

“Thanks,” Spencer mutters dryly. Emily smiles, eyes darting between the two of you for just a moment too long, before pushing off the door frame and disappearing from sight. Once the door is closed again, a heavy silence ensues. “I’ll… I can take the floor—”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor. We’re both grown-ups. Besides, we like each other, right? It’ll be like a slumber party.”

“I’ve never had one,” he admits. His glasses slip further down his nose as he frowns. Your fingers itch to push them back up. 

“Then I’m happy to be your first,” you tease, facing him fully with your hand on your hip and barely resisting the urge to add, I’ll be gentle. “Do you want the shower first or can I?”

Spencer has a habit of looking you up and down like he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Some might find it odd, but his utter lack of social graces is, lucky for him, incredibly endearing to you. 

“You can have it first,” he says, meeting your eyes again. “Just don’t do that thing where you get the entire bathroom soaking wet.”

“Aw. But I love doing that. It’s my favorite part,” you tease, scooping up your bag once more.

Twenty minutes later you’re emerging from the bathroom with damp hair, clad in loose shorts and a college hoodie. 

“Nice outfit,” Spencer says from the spinny-chair at the desk, examining your outfit choice with a scrutiny you wish you’d been prepared for. Really, you wish you’d known ahead of time you’d have a roommate and brought some alternate sleeping clothes. “I had no idea you felt so passionately about… Scooby Doo?”

“Shut up right now,” you grit, tossing your bag into the corner of the room and tugging your hoodie down over your cartoon-patterned shorts as far as you can. 

“What?” He’s laughing as he brushes past you on his way into the bathroom, bearing his own bag. “It’s a good look for you.”

Your face is burning as you choose the side of the bed furthest from the door. Springs creak underneath your weight as you sink down, sitting with your legs hanging off the side for a moment before swinging them up onto the mattress, leaning against the headboard and side-eyeing the empty space next to you. There’s really not very much of it. The bed feels even smaller than it looks. 

From the bathroom you hear the sound of the shower squeaking and starting up again—a cacophony of droplets against tile on the other side of the wall. You try not to be nervous as you imagine Spencer filling the space beside you in just a few minutes, hair wet and in pajamas. And yet you spend each second wondering if he’s almost done, wondering if the shower will finally sputter to a halt, and once it does, wondering how long it’ll be before he’s out again. It’s ridiculous how impatient you're getting—and by the time you finally watch the door knob twist you feel crazy. 

“I think that was your longest shower yet, Dr. Reid.”

The teasing affords you a moment to ogle him head to toe, taking in his choice of pajamas—tonight, familiar plaid pants and an MIT crewneck—as well as his hair which has already begun to dry. Briefly you wonder if he does that thing guys do, where they lean down and haphazardly dry their hair with a towel because they have no concern for its texture whatsoever. But you kind of doubt it, because his hair always looks so soft. 

“You were sitting here waiting for me?” He chuckles, and honestly you’d been expecting a shyer response. But you adapt quickly. 

“Maybe I was. Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Ha-ha.” He opens a drawer in the dresser and begins unpacking his clothes into it. It's a funny habit of his. You never unpack your duffel. “You took the better side of the bed.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m the woman. I get to do that.”

“Well you should know that if an intruder breaks in, I’m not fighting him off. You’d probably have a better chance than me.”

“And my chances will be even better if he’s distracted with you first.”

“So I’m just bait?” He scoffs, looking back at you. Strands of wet hair hang so prettily around his face, like the perfect frame around a work of art. You smile sweetly from your spot on the bed before playfully biting at the air in his direction. The message goes unspoken but reads loud and clear. Of course you are. You make such good bait. 

That gets a blush out of him and he has nothing else to say as he turns back to his drawer. Happily you lean back against the headboard, stretching your legs out and bouncing slightly in place. Beneath you the mattress springs groan and squeak in protest. 

“I hope you're not going to be this irritating all night.”

It's clearly lighthearted, but you promptly stop and frown at his back. 

“Call me irritating again and see where you end up sleeping tonight.”

“I just don’t see how you’re even more hyperactive than usual right now. Has anybody ever told you that you’re crepuscular?” Spencer asks, finally sliding the drawer shut and going to shut the overhead light off. Your eyes narrow. 

“Obviously nobody has told me that.”

“It means y—”

“I’m most energetic within the few hours around dusk and dawn. Contrary to your belief, Dr. Reid, other people are also capable of looking up words in a dictionary and remembering what they mean. Are you going to stand in the corner all night or are you gonna come to bed?”

“I am,” he scoffs, clearly embarrassed and shy and embarrassed of being shy. “I’m just… you look like you kick in your sleep. And hog the blankets.”

You shrug, folding your knees to your chest and hugging them quaintly. 

“I’ve never had any complaints. In fact, you should be so lucky to share a bed with me. All five star reviews, baby.” 

You toss a suggestive wink in at the end, which seems garish enough to break the tension so that Spencer can stop lingering in the corner like a sleep-paralysis demon and move to carefully take his place next to you. He almost mirrors your position, but his legs are too long to quite manage your level of compactness and so they simply fold underneath him. A few silent moments go by, in which you have the dumbest smile on your face and you keep glancing over to the side, waiting for him to be looking back at you. 

“This is already the least relaxed I have ever been in a bed.”

“Good thing we’re not going to sleep yet.”

Finally he looks at you, a casual mix of hesitance, concern, and moderate curiosity coloring his features. 

“We’re not?”

“Oh, my god, Spencer,” you snort. “I’m not gonna molest you. We have to do slumber party stuff, remember?”

He flushes again, glancing at the digital clock in his bedside table. 

“But it’s late. We should go to sleep.”

“At slumber parties you have to stay up until you literally can’t keep your eyes open anymore. Those are the rules. I don’t make them.”

Still, your insistence that you follow the international code of sleepover law goes unabided by Spencer. He simply leans over to flick off his lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

“I appreciate the effort,” he says, and your eyes haven’t adjusted but you can hear the rustle of sheets and blankets as he gets under them, “but unfortunately we have to be awake and alert in five hours.”

“You’re no fun,” you huff, but climb under your own side of the cover and scoot down until you’re flat on your back, covered in blanket and hands folded on your sternum. 

Spencer doesn’t respond. 

It’s silent for maybe five minutes, during which your brain doesn’t slow down at all. Maybe you are crepuscular. Or slightly nocturnal. You have nothing but energy. 

In an attempt to get comfortable, you try adjusting your position.

The mattress squeaks. 

You do it again. 

Another squeak. 

A second goes by, and now you’re intentionally jostling about, squeaking the mattress as much as you can. 

“Would you stop that?” Spencer says, voice already gravelly with sleep. You manage, but you’re already devolving into a fit of giggles. “I’m going to smother you with this pillow,” he threatens, but you hear the disgruntled smile curling his words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to rest.”

Another moment passes. He sighs deeply. You smile into the dark. 

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks flatly, and you’ve won. 

“Tell me a secret,” you immediately demand in a hushed tone, flipping on your side to face his back. “Something you’ve never told anyone else.”

“I don’t—”

“Shh! You have to whisper it. Those are the slumber party rules.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” he whispers, clearly flustered, and to your delight, rolling to face the ceiling. “None that you’d want to hear.”

“Oh, now that’s just not true. You’re an enigma, Spencer Reid. You fascinate me.”

You’re only sort of kidding. 

“I… fascinate you?”

“Completely. You know, ever since you moved your desk across from mine I get distracted just staring at you and wondering what you’re thinking about. But you’re very… hard to read, sometimes. I think it’s because you’re a Scorpio.”

“The position of the stars at the time I was born has no bearing on my personality.”

“Fine,” you concede, still in a glorified stage whisper. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t display the archetypal Scorpio traits. You’re all brooding, mysterious. Kinda, I don't know... intense and sexy and unknowable…”

“Sexy?” He laughs, breaking the whisper rule. You grin and let it slide. You’d hoped he would catch that one. 

“Hey,” you snap, losing the smile immediately and lightly shoving against what you hope is his shoulder. “You’re supposed to be telling me a secret, damnit. I won’t let your wiles and charm distract me from getting what I want.”

“When have you ever let anything stop you from getting what you want?”

Truly, your cheeks are going to start aching with this constant back and forth between poker-faced and huge Cheshire smile. 

“Stop flirting and answer my question, Reid.”

With the amount of times you’ve made him sigh tonight he must be dizzy. You chew your lip apprehensively in the silence, picking a loose thread on your pillow. It’s so pitch black in the room, you can’t see him where he lies only a few meager inches from you. But you can feel his presence. You can feel the unexpected bass to his voice when he’s tired and speaking this lowly, which you’ve never heard before.

“All the secrets I’ve never told anyone are just… depressing.”

Your heart sinks a little at the way he swallows between words, like that in and of itself was hard to admit. Unthinkingly your hand slides into the small gap of white cotton between the two of you. 

“Not very good slumber party material, I think,” he laughs self-consciously. 

“You’d be surprised.” 

The sentiment comes quieter and more serious than you’ve been all night. If only you had the words to tell him that he can tell you anything. That you want to hold his secrets for him under lock and key. That you would never, ever do anything less than offer him kindness and support—even if it doesn’t always seem that way when you’re teasing him. 

“Do you have any secrets you’ve never told anyone else?” He murmurs eventually, so soft it could kill you. 

And you do. There are plenty of dark ones, probably not all dissimilar from those he’d elected not to share only a moment ago. 

But you don’t bring those up. 

Instead, you decide to admit to something silly. Still, it makes you nervous as you feel it coming loose in your chest. You’ve really never told anyone this, and it’s perhaps more vulnerable than you’d realized before the words were already leaving your mouth. 

“I, have…” You pause to laugh at yourself, and continue on. “I have a stuffed dragon that I take with me on every single case.”

“You do?” Spencer laughs, so loud and unexpected it almost hurts your ears, angling his head toward you. Blood rushes to your face. 

“Yes. He usually sleeps in bed with me. He’s an excellent listener and has been the origin of several of my most genius breakthroughs. You remember Gibson Cooper?”

“Family annihilator from Houston?” 

“Correct. He’s in prison because Oscar helped me make the Cook Creek Campground connection between the O’Hara and Diangelo families.”

“You have a stuffed profiler dragon named Oscar? Is he here?”

“He’s—I mean, I wasn’t expecting to share a room with someone.”

“So he’s in your bag.”

“Yes,” you seethe, “and I will not be introducing you to him. He doesn’t do well with men.”

“You are genuinely psychotic.”

You huff.

“Fine. I’m sorry I told you anything.”

You’re about to roll over onto your other side—but Spencer surprises you by catching the hand that had been outstretched in his direction. He carefully intertwines your fingers and squeezes gently. 

“You’re right. That was mean. Thank you for telling me about Oscar.” His tone is surprisingly teasing, and you’re so uncharacteristically flustered by this rare show of physicality and affection that you can’t muster an adequate comeback. Spencer doesn’t seem to mind filling your silence, though, sounding a little more solemn now. “I’m sorry I don’t have any secrets for you.”

The way his voice gets all thin and scratchy sometimes—it’s like the earnest sincerity just pours out of him. He can’t control it. He can’t be anyone other than who he is. Maybe that’s a part of why you love him so much. You wonder if he knows how much you love him. It’s not exactly a secret—anyone on the team would be able to tell as much. You’ve been relentlessly teased for the way you are with him. For your batting lashes and your lingering touches and your unabashed flirting. But beneath it all is true affection, and nobody doubts that. 

“It’s okay,” you decide with a squeeze of your own, after a moment of deliberation. “You’ll think of something. ’Cause, y’know—you’re stuck with me for at least a few more days.”

“Oh, god,” he laughs, and releases your hand, rolling over to face away from you. But you don’t mind. You’ll get lots more time to invade his personal space over the coming week or so. “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams,” you sing-song, turning away to face the wall with what is perhaps your biggest, stupidest smile yet.

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mentions of sex , profanity , crying , angst

୨୧˚ an; does anyone even care about this anymore LMDOAOO but for real, i’m sorry for how late this part got out. i am battling severe writers block it is dangling me by the BAWLLSSS,, im thinking that this series is coming to a close soon and i never meant for it to get this deep but here we are 🦝 thank you all for being so patient with me i lob you

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

There was something about thunderstorms that Toji always felt drawn to. They were great; overbearing in a way, rolling through and burying a perfectly fine day under gallons of rainwater and gray skies. Authoritative, condemning humans to take shelter lest they wish to drown in its fruits. Suffering the consequences; soaked-through clothes and sopping hair. He watches the pane of glass at the roof, a skylight barred into the flat of your high rise ceilings. The rain storm had reduced it into nothing but a drab, dusty square, baring the pelts of precipitation like punishment. Toji holds you in your bed. Your weight drapes across his chest like a blanket, your head tucked beneath the cut of his chin.

“Do you like the rain, Toji?”

He felt naked, both in the literal and metaphorical sense. The silken sheets that wrap your mattress were unfamiliar against this flesh, cold and slippery. Regretting the forfeit of pajamas. You two had shared a shower after dinner, of which you held him with all the sentiment in the world. Toji fucking hates when people stand at his back. He doesn’t like it, feeling a presence before seeing them. But he let you stay centimeters behind, working peach and ginger scented shampoo into the roots of his scalp. When he was a boy and his mother had yet to find a place in the Zenin's private graveyard, he vaguely remembers receiving analogous strokes of care from the only family member in his life who didn’t see him as a filthy disgrace. Mom bathed him like this, scrubbing blood and tarnish from his cheeks with a threadbare handkerchief in that tin can he called a tub. All that fucking family money, but a new washcloth or a proper bathtub was never in the cards for him. He remembers mom apologizing often when she washed him.

Toji fucked you in the shower. A difficult means of having sex, sure, but slippery surfaces and soap in the eyes weren’t enough to quell that undying twist of hunger. So he took you against the sleek porcelain wall with his hands shelving beneath the curve of your ass and your legs constricting at his waist. You guided him to a quick orgasm with spouts of hushed praises spoken to his ear; he was certain you didn’t cum, didn’t feel that cute clench you did the first night you two slept together, but you lied and told him you did with a reassuring grin. Why did you lie?

“It’s fine, I guess.” A hand caressed your thigh, the one that was slung over and hiked up onto his stomach. Toji grazed his nails over your flesh, mindless and dejected.

Thunder clapped, then lightning struck, and all Toji could think in the moment was about you and him. Together. Stark nude in bed with limbs entwined. He, the thunder; loud and fierce. Scary, enough to make little children and small animals shake and cower in the corner with fear. You’re more like lightning, he supposes. Elegant and powerful, something so naturally beautiful. 

You will hear thunder and remember me.

More thunder boomed. Toji squeezes your body tighter. “I like that.”

“Like what?” He asks.

You trace wobbly circles against his collar bone, avoiding the slices of silvery skin that raised off the plain of skin. Scars, Toji was doused in gauges. Scraped up head to toe, and he could feel your eyes dart lazily between each and every one of them. “I like the thunder,” comes your reply, followed by a small, bashful shrug. “Ever since I was a kid.”

Toji scoffs. Fuckin’ mind reader. “Liar. Nobody likes thunder.”

“Don’t call me a liar,” you slap his cheek playfully. “I mean it. The quiet can be disturbing sometimes. But to me, thunder is so… human-like? Makes me forget I’m alone.”

This has the man tossing his head back against your feathered pillow. “You’re so full of shit.”

Another stroke of brooding thunder rapped against the window like knock, and if Toji was a believer in the Gods above, he’d curse every last one of them for their shitty comedic timing. You’re giggling into his neck; Toji can feel warm puffs of breath fan over his pulse point. “See?” You ask through a grin. “He came back to yell at you.” He, referring to the crack of thunder. Toji rolls his eyes. Leaves a pinch at your thigh.

“Hey, what did you say before?” Toji walked his fingertips down the curve of your spine, stopping just above your ass. “The fuckin’—the french thing?”

How did it go again? Tu mas something?

It took a moment for you to decipher what he was talking about.

“Tu m'as manqué, Toji?”

Toji bit down on the tip of his tongue, stifling a smile at the grandeur in which you held when speaking the delicate French language. He nods, “what’s it mean?” 

“Means ‘I miss you’.” Is he melting? Liquifying into a disgusting puddle beneath your prying palms, soaking into the bed sheets. You lament over his absence, spitting such pure genuine inflections that Toji is inclined to believe you when you tell him just how much you missed his unlawful presence. Like a stray dog that you offhandedly feed every now and again, praying for its safe and soon return back on your doorstep, digging into the leftover scraps of meat you’ve so kindly plated on the stoop. He’s that washed-up, flea ridden, unabashedly feral mutt that can’t help but crawl back to the idea of home. “I missed you. A lot.”

Toji doesn’t think you’ve ever sounded so vulnerable. Not even in the throes of passion when he’d had you spread and wet for him did you sound like this. Small and volatile, yet self-assured all the same. How the fuck do you manage to balance such contrasting notions? A witch, you must be something of the sort. 

There’s a gap of longing silence that fills the room; Toji concludes that you wait for him to return the gesture. So he does, “I did, too.” It’s the cold, hard truth, and he gives it to you on a silver platter. “Thought about you.”

And he’d leave that there. It was a much sweeter sentiment than to admit that he thought about you particularly often in those bloody showers with his hand wrenched around his hard on. Leaves much room for you to wonder. 

You hum. 

More quiet. He is fond of the quiet moments with you. 

“This looks fresh.” Ruined peace. He feels your thumb pad prod ever so gently at the teared flesh of his pec, the same one you used as your own personal pillow. It was inflamed, red and angry unlike the plethora of other battle scars which have now faded into a cooler pinkish tone with time. You were right; it was new. Nothing but a little switchblade slash—one of the men Toji had decimated this past week was armed. It was a careless mistake, one that had no real impact or effect, Hell, he barely felt the paper cut. But it impacted you, he noticed. “Does it hurt?” A fingertip whispers over the wound, and he flinches. 

Not because it’s painful, but because your gingerness made him sick to his stomach. Never more than in this moment did Toji feel so guilty for accepting your tender touches, wishing to holy Hell his conscience would allow him to bite his tongue. To let you keep thinking of him as some down-on-his-luck middle aged man with a shit job and no money to his name. 

“Don’t touch,” it’s quick, the way he snatching your wrist. Sturdy bone crushed under the bruising grip of his shaky fist. He didn’t mean to grab you so roughly. You’re taken aback by the outburst. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a meager apology that doesn’t sound right spilling from your lips. It’s trembly and skittish, and your eyes widen coquettishly to flit between his face and the iron-clad grip that joins you together. “I’m—I should’ve asked you first.”

His breathing pattern was off its axis. Shit, shit what is he doing? Toji let’s go, flinching his hand far from your arm like you burned him. He shakes his head. “Didn’t mean to grab you, I didn’t mean to.” Toji pushes up from the warmth of your bed—from the warmth of you—and scans the floor for his boxers. 

You reluctantly part from him, gathering the blanket up over your chest as a makeshift barrier between bare flesh and the chilled air-conditioned bedroom. “What are you doing, Toji?” You sound sad. He finds his boxers. They’re balled up, discarded on the far end of your too-fucking-gigantic bedroom. “Toji!”

He keeps his back toward you, mechanically stepping into his underwear and dragging them up over his hips. It’s fucking gross, feeling the crunch of dried semen as the fabric contorts, but it’s ultimately ignored. “Thanks for dinner, you’re a fuckin’ A chef.” Toji spots his sweatpants nearby. 

“You got that new cut at work.” You’ve made a power move to ditch the comforter, stepping down into the carpet wearing nothing but your birthday suit. The tone of yours shifts, a steep incline from sweet and patient to demanding and accusatory, and Toji doesn’t like that one fucking bit. His sweatpants on, he tosses you a glance over his shoulder. 

“It was an accident.”

“Is that right?” Your brows furrow, gesturing to his torso. His marred, battered, abused torso. “Just covered in accidents then?”

Now he faces you, looks you in the eyes despite your naked form. “Pretty much.” Each lie tastes acidic, like that soupy bile he spits out before vomiting. “Thanks for dinner.” He makes an attempt to stalk past to the door, foregoing the shirt because he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it. Probably lost in a forgotten corner of your room, and with the way his heart raced against his rib cage, Toji wasn’t sure he’d survive long enough in this stuffy room to find it. So he thanks you again with an air of finality, only to be stopped. Your hand is flat against the center of his chest, pressed over the beat of his heart. No doubt about it, he’s sure you can feel that manic tempo. 

Beat, beat, beat. 

“I really thought we were getting somewhere.” You start quietly, voice hovering just above a whisper. His eyes stay fixed on the tiny hand that has glued itself to his sternum. “I thought we… I thought… I don’t fucking know, okay?

I like you. I like you so much, Toji.”

I like you too. “I…” like you I like you I like you. 

“Don’t feel like you have to reciprocate anything. These are complicated feelings, I know that. It’s a lot to spring on a person, but it’s the truth. I’m giving you my truth, and I need you to do the same because I don’t know if I can take another week of you disappearing for however long only to return like… like this!” You gesture to the red gash. “I care about you, and I want to help you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, but you make it so fucking difficult.”

It felt as though every saliva particle had been vacuumed out of his mouth, leaving a dry desert plain for a tongue. He's never been so at a loss for words before, you actually rendered him speechless. Finally, finally, after a minute of gaping like a stupid fish out of water, Toji finds his bearings. 

“You’re a good person, Y/n.” He peels your hand off him. “And I’m not.” Toji moves to disconnect hands, but yours follows him, clamping them back together. He can’t find the strength to let go, knowing good and well that his palm was clammy as shit. 

Your brows pinch, knitting with confusion at the seemingly random proclamation. “I mean, sure you can be kind of a dick sometimes, but I don’t think—”

You don’t understand. So unscathed by the bleakness of this world, your definition of a bad person is someone who’s ’kind of a dick sometimes.’ Toji’s frown deepens, and he shakes his head, bangs bouncing with the movement. Your fancy conditioner made his hair feel soft against his forehead. “That’s surface level shit. You don’t understand what I’ve done.” 

“So tell me—”

“I can’t.” The word cracks in his throat, and he coughs around it. Choking on it like he did your pretty fingers in the kitchen. “Don’t you get that? If it was that easy…”

“Tell me.” Your voice grows calm, yet stern. Aggressive in the gentlest of ways, coaxing the truth to light. Arms crossed over your bosom, you jut a chin in Toji’s direction. “Because I’m really sick and fucking tired of you treating me like I’m incapable of comprehension. I’ll understand.”

You won’t. He knows you won’t. 

Time grows slow and thick like molasses; Toji feels caught in the midst of an unwinnable battle. Either direction he takes—to come clean, to dance around the truth some more, to lie—will only serve to worsen things to an unfortunate degree. He stalls. Scratches at his jagged jaw dusted with faint stubble. Then, he paws over the masculine plates of his abdomen, feeling his own flesh. There isn’t any warmth to him anymore. Every ounce of humanity had leaked from Toji’s soul, leaving him to become this cold, withering husk of a man. 

When his mouth finally peels open, it takes effort. Like his teeth had been welded together by one of those chewy caramel-coated candies Shiu keeps in his glove compartment. 

“I’m a killer.”

A strange sensation splashed over Toji. Maybe it was relieving to finally share that tidbit of himself, to get his shame out in the open and off his chest. His shoulders felt a little lighter, his joints felt a little looser. This high didn’t last forever, though, and soon he was plummeting back down to Earth when your horror-stricken voice shook in his ears. 

“That’s not a funny joke.”

“Wouldn’t joke. Not about that.” He swirls the built-up saliva in his mouth.

Your eyes were wide, never leaving him. “You… you kill people? For money?”

Begrudgingly, “yes.”

You sputter. “How do you expect me to believe something so—so unimaginable?” Your brows sewed themselves, drawn close in absolute bewilderment. Hinging on the cusp between puking and laughing in his stupid face. “This is insane, Toji.”

He scoffs quietly. “Ain’t fuckin’ lying woman.” No saccharine ma’am. “Wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth. I had to fight to live.” A low blow, but you didn’t seem to take it to heart, far too distracted by your own disturb. 

Toji wasn’t prepared for how much this was going to hurt. The disgusted way you looked at him, something you’d never ever done before, made him barely able to contain his quiver. He deserves every morsel of your animosity, but knowing he deserved it didn’t make it any less painful. Toji felt you scanning, analyzing every scar wedged into his torso. His arms. His neck. His face. He sees you making connections, noticing healed-over bullet wounds and knife attacks for what they were: hideous. He watches you make connections, visualizing a new scenario for each scar; for each life he’s taken and how they desperately fought back against him for mercy. Toji’s body bears the story of hundreds of deaths, and you look sick to your stomach at the realization of what he truly is. 

An ugly monster. 

“Oh my God.” You’re hushed, speaking to yourself. “How many people, Toji?”

He grimaced. “I lost count.”

“Oh my God…” Your hand is pressed to your hairline, and you look exasperated to all Hell. Crazed, maybe. As though he’d just rocked your entire world.

Toji interjects with unnecessary commentary. “I told you. I said you would never understand.”

“No, n-no I understand plenty.” Then, you smile, but it’s not one you’d ever bore to Toji before. It lacks any kindness. It’s empty and unloving. “You’re a murderer.”

He winces. Killer and murderer were synonymous, but for some odd reason being called a murderer was a different type of wrench to the gut. “Yeah.” Toji nods. For the right price, he has slaughtered, fucked, and even sold a few peripheral organs. Because money is everything. Money is food. Money is shelter. Money is life itself. But money isn’t you. 

“Get the fuck out of my home.”

You look terrified of him. Toji is frozen stiff.

“I said go! Fucking leave!” Suddenly, you're rushing to collect your crumpled outfit from the floor, feeding your limbs through the small pair of panties and that oversize bed shirt. Amongst the frenzy to get dressed, you snatch your phone from the bedside table and frantically scrawl over the screen with clumsy fingers. Toji sees tears track down your cheeks, they glint from the light emanating off the cellphone. “Or I’ll call the police.”

And turn in what evidence? He’s too good at what he does, Toji doesn’t leave paper trails behind. But he lets you think you have the power to get him in cuffs. You’re already so frightened, clinging to your phone with trembling hands.

“Go ahead. Call them.” His words are lifeless. Lifeless with a touch of irritation. Spat with malice because you would never understand the life he lives, despite how much you’ve preached to him that you would. You teased him, dangling this idea of a normal life in front of his face. One without lies and secrecy, just you and him and this almighty penthouse. This would more than likely be the last exchange between the both of you, the last time Toji would ever look you in the eyes again, and it angered him. All good things have expiration dates. “You know where I live.”

“Just… Fucking leave.” Christ, you were shaking like a leaf. Was it out of fear? Or anger, maybe? Probably a combination of both. Toji gets a few more seconds of stillness in, spent entirely on gulping down eyefuls of you. Even now, face twisted up and cheeks wet from tears, you look so fucking gorgeous. His savior, the one who showed him how to feel again. 

“Okay.” 

He collects himself, puts on a presence of nonchalant coolness. Like walking out of your bedroom wasn’t the most difficult thing he’s had to do in years. Never-minding the shirt, he walks to the door without sparing a glance back over his shoulder. 

Toji leaves. It’s raining, and he is shirtless and sopping wet. Thunder rumbles. 

You will hear thunder and remember me. 

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz z @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0semultiverse @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni @taelattecookie @purple-obsidian @hqtoge @khaothick @saintkaylaa @ya9amicide @crayzyaarna @saiki-enthusiast @haesify @nyamocka @sixxze @lifesucksweswallow @darkstarlight82 @megumisdivinedogs @celestialol @yunho-leeknow @ghostfacefricker6969 @aizawa19 @lupicalbestwolf @nymphsdomain @makuzume @killerkinnie @haesify @svnkenlily @bimbobunnii

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

can u guess which gif will be at the end of this. can you guess. i'll bet at least a few of you can guess XD

Charlie: "New plan- group bonding through shared, SAFE, suffering!"

Alastor: “Oh joy~”

Husk: "Not this fucking shit again."

Angel Dust: "Well hey as long as it's consensual sufferin'~"

Niffty: (lifts arms at vaggie) "YEEET ME!!!"

Vaggie: "Ughh... no."

Niffty: "Aww."

Vaggie: "I'm never living that one down am I?"

Charlie: "Vaggie, you don't need to live anything down EVER-"

Alastor: "Cough cough! Lied to her girlfriend for three years, cough cough!"

Angel Dust: "Dude you're not supposed t' SAY cough."

Husk: “That’s the part you’re fucking annoyed at?”

Charlie: "-and the POINT is, your whole idea about going through hell to trust the people who go through it with you? Not entirely on the wrong track!"

Vaggie: "Yaaay."

Husk: "You fucked up but for the right un-shitty reasons."

Vaggie: "Great. Thanks."

Charlie: "SO! We're all gonna share the worst work day of our lives with each other!"

Niffty: "Share?" (excited) "By INFLICTING them on each other!?"

Charlie: "Talking, Niffty. We're going to, talk about them."

Niffty: "Aww...."

Husk: "Is there a time limit."

Angel Dust: "Is there a rating limit?"

Alastor: (thoughtful) "Does it still count as a terrible work day if I was able to murder them at the end of it?"

Charlie: "Uhhhh-"

Vaggie: "How 'bout we stick to how it made us feel, rather than all the... X rated... gory details?"

Niffty: (sighs) (slumps over) "This is my worst most terrible work day ever.."

Charlie: "And how do you FEEL about it?"

Niffty: "Sad..."

Vaggie: "I'll let you use my spear for roach hunting after this."

Niffty: (bouncing up) "OH THE EMOTIONS! WHATEVER ONES YOU WANT FROM ME I DON'T CARE, I HAVE THEM!!!"

Husk: "What the fuck."

Angel Dust: "Yeesh."

Charlie: "Okay that's, that's enough sharing from you. Good, um, good job!"

Niffty: "Spear spear spear-"

Charlie: "Well MY worst work day was definitely the one where we were besieged by an army of murderous angels heaven-bent on the full scale slaughter of most of my family! And they actually did kill one! Yeah- that." (laughs) "That fucking sucked and I hated it!"

Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty: (GASP)

Charlie: "What? What??"

Angel Dust: "You said the "H" word, toots.."

Vaggie: "She said a lot more than that while writing an angry text to heaven afterwards."

Charlie: "Hey! You checked the text for me- you know I was polite!"

Vaggie: "Charlie, it was the most aggressively polite 'fuck off' anyone's ever written in the history of all creation. I’m so proud of you for it."

Charlie: "Heh."

Alastor: “Cough get a room please cough.”

Angel Dust: “’m TELLING YOU that’s NOT how it’s supposed ‘t WORK you're not supposed t' SAY IT-”

Charlie: "Ah-hem. Um. Husk? Worst work day-?"

Husk: "Still living it."

Hotel Crew: "....."

Husk: "...but you stupid fuckers are keeping me company through it, so, fucking thanks I guess."

Charlie: (tearful) "Oh Husk. That's so..."

Angel Dust: "Love you too, Mr. Whiskers~"

Husk: "Shut the fuck up."

Vaggie: "Hey."

Husk: "Him, not her. The day your “her” shuts the fuck up is the day we all know we're fucked."

Charlie: "Gosh I hope not." (wipes eyes) "Angel Dust? You wanna...?"

Angel Dust: "My worst shitty day was also my BEST day."

Charlie: (bracing herself) "O...kay...?"

Angel Dust: "A friend came to work an' almost killed the boss for me. Can ya believe that? An' the only reason she didn't open him up a few new 'fun' an' 'interestin' holes of his own was 'cause I had to stop her."

Vaggie: "HELL YEAH!"

Charlie: "You mean-"

Angel Dust: "Yeah. Thanks, apple cheeks. I spent good crack money commissionin' fanart of you wrecking his shit."

Charlie: "WHAT!?"

Vaggie: "You have GOT to let me see that."

Charlie: "VAGGIE!"

Vaggie: "Oh come on, it's better than him buying crack, right?"

Angel Dust: "It def looks waaay better on my wall."

Charlie: "I- that's not-"

Niffty: "Is there BLOOD?"

Charlie: "Oh please don't let there be any-"

Angel Dust: "SO much blood, baby."

Charlie: "Noooo...!"

Vaggie: "Now I really need to see it."

Charlie: "H-WHA?"

Husk: "I really need a fucking drink."

Charlie: "I'm- you know what? I'm pretending I didn't hear any of that. La la la! I have complete deniability!"

Alastor: "That's the spirit! You hardly knew him, certainly never fantasized about decorating him with his own entrails! Just keep reminding yourself of that while hiding the body~!"

Charlie: "NO! Just.... well maybe for him..."

Vaggie: "You're so pretty."

Charlie: (pouting) "We need to commission a piece of you standing over Lute with your spear at her throat. It's not FAIR otherwise."

Vaggie: "Anything for you, babe."

Alastor: "How saccharine. Young love hand in hand, spattered in blood."

Charlie: "A-anyway. Alastor. Your turn."

Alastor: "Hmm. Well, there was the time someone reorganized the reels, somehow without mentioning it to me before air time. And without asking me before hand. But..."

Husk: "Here it comes."

Alastor: "Reorganized their organs for them later that night, likewise unasked, was QUITE fun."

Charlie: "I THOUGHT WE SAID WE COULD JUST TALK ABOUT OUR FEELINGS!"

Alastor: "My feelings?"

Niffty: "PURE UNDILUTED JOY"

Alastor: "Mm no, they didn't scream enough for that..."

Charlie: "AAAAAH!" (covers ears)

Alastor: "Shall we say perhaps, accomplished?"

Vaggie: "Over one murder? Wow. You're sure easy to please."

Alastor: "I've always believed in quality not quantity when it comes to my passion projects. Swift, thoughtless killings are so passé."

Angel Dust: "Y'know, meeting you has really ruined the whole dashing dapper man w' a tinted glass monocle for me. It's that creepy grin. You're a total boner kill."

Alastor: "Oh I do try."

Vaggie: "What about the day you died? Didn't you get fucking shot like a deer, venison a la Alastor?"

Alastor: "Fan of my history, hmm?"

Vaggie: "The TV future about it is pretty funny, not gonna lie."

Alastor: "Ah ha ha! TV DID YOU SAY."

Vaggie: "Vox airs it. Every day."

Alastor: "AND YOU WATCHED IT. HMM?"

Vaggie: "Every. Day."

Angel Dust: "I bring the popcorn and pills."

Husk: "I mix the fucking drinks."

Niffty: "I wish it had more BLOOD!"

Alastor: "ET TU, NIFFTY?"

Charlie: "Okay okay, that's WAY more than enough from you, reel back in the shadow monsters please-"

Alastor: "AHAHAHAH...!" (fades into shadows)

Angel Dust: "Creep. He's prob'ly vaping off to go curse the TV again."

Husk: "For mother fuck. I've got that cooking show coming on tonight. Will smacking the aerial with the angel spear get it working again?"

Vaggie: "Probably...?"

Charlie: "Vaggie!" (desperate) (hopeful) "You have a normal worst day at work to finish this exercise off with, right!?"

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: "Uh, well sweetie...."

[inuyashaluver]

Hii! i love you’re fics and i was hoping i could request a story with leah or anyone really about getting caught on a kiss cam at a basketball game?

thank you have a great day :)

kiss cam - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your best friend get shown on the kiss cam at a basketball game - what does this mean for your friendship?

warnings: swearing, extremely long i’m sorry

a/n: thank you so much for the request, i had too much fun and got carried away lmao, hope you enjoy lovelies ❤️ also thank you for the love!!!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your best friend, leah were clearly in love with each other but absolute idiots about it. every single person on the planet thought it was obvious the two of you liked each other - to the surprise of many that the two of you weren’t already dating.

“we’re best friends” both of you say at the same time, both of you not realising the mutual faces of hurt. it killed the both of you to respond to dating rumours, wanting nothing more than to be in a romantic relationship. because the both of you were friends for so long, you didn’t want to risk losing each other, even if it meant to suffer in silence.

what made things worse for the both of you is that you were around each other, all day, everyday. you both play for england and arsenal, as well as having a shared apartment. the apartment is full of so much love, an accurate representation of you and leah.

you both balance each other out, leah was more outgoing while you were a little reserved at first until you got to know someone. though, you had gotten a lot better, due to leah always being there next to you, introducing you to people, whispering words of encouragement in your ear, holding your hand and kissing the side of your head. you swear it was strictly platonic, you’re very silly.

—

“love come on! the bus is here, we need to get downstairs!” leah yells from the bed in the shared hotel room while you were in the bathroom.

“i’m coming, leah, my hair is just being a pain in the ass” you grumble, looking in the mirror and trying to get your hair done for national training. leah comes in the bathroom, standing behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist, resting her head on your shoulder and looking into your eyes through the mirror.

“you look beautiful, babe, let’s go to the bus” she places a kiss on your cheek, you turn bright red, she moves her hands up and down your arms, giving your biceps a gentle squeeze. “i’ll wait for you, hurry up please!” you giggle and nod at her smiling, she sends you a warm grin, light pink settling on the apples of her cheeks.

this was just one of the instances where both of you could’ve confessed your love for each other but the both of you are too clueless and oblivious to do so.

—

you and leah were both highly influential in the football industry, being advocates for numerous charities and organisations. you end up accompanying leah on her new york visit, both of you were invited to speak at the UN.

it wasn’t a secret that you were afraid of heights, leah knew this and promised that she would take care of you. you sat next to each other on the plane, leah distracting you as much as possible. holding your hand and rubbing her thumb over yours, forcing you to watch a movie with her on her laptop, sharing wired headphones with one another. when you land, you give leah a kiss of appreciation on her cheek, thanking her profusely,

“i’d do anything for you, love, you know that right?”

“yeah, i would do the same, lee” both of you thought about the interaction throughout the whole night, maybe - there’s a chance that you liked each other (duh)

both of you explored new york, sharing laughs, taking pictures of each other, going shopping, loving each others company. as the days progressed, both of you got more touchy, clingy - separation wasn’t an option anymore.

leah got invited to the ny liberty game, dragging you along with her with the promise of her buying whatever you wanted - you only joked about this, this girl could ask you to do anything and you would without any hesitation, something she knew all too well.

you were both sat court side with one another, chatting and sipping drinks and eating lollies, genuinely having so much fun. leah sat with her arm around your chair, constantly checking up on you.

“you alright?” she moves down to say in your ear, her lips lightly grazing the shell of your ear, your cheeks lightly flushed. you nod up at her, “are you?” she smiles at you, “never better”

the game was on, leah was focused on the game and you, arm now completely on your shoulder, thumb mindlessly grazing your exposed shoulder, you move closer into her, resting your body back into hers, she couldn’t wipe the smile of her face.

honestly, watching leah watch the game was more entertaining for you, you loved to see the furrow between her brows, her smile and nod when something goes well, always squeezing your shoulder to indicate that you should be doing the same thing as her as you were confused with what was going on, as you were only focusing on the girl beside you.

there was a break until the next half, you and leah going back to chatting, her arm not moving position, keeping you close to her body and not wanting you to go anywhere.

“you look so beautiful, love” she smiles at you again,

“look at you, lee, you look gorgeous” you move your hand to rest on her exposed knee, she shivers at the contact - you slightly perk up, you were stating your intentions and she understood them finally. she places her other hand over your own, looking into your eyes, both of you had wide pupils and cheesy grins plastered all over your faces. looking like lovesick puppies.

leah kept moving her head down to your mouth every time you spoke to her, as well as only speaking directly into your ear, loving the way you reacted each time she did it. she knew now that you felt the same, both of you increasingly becoming more flirty and touchy with one another, shamelessly showing both of your intentions, you weren’t best friends anymore and it was finally clear to both of you.

you were both so engrossed with one another, focusing your attention solely on each other. leah could tell you were uncomfortable in the position you were sitting in, having to angle your body awkwardly just to look at her face. she moves her hand off yours and you look at her confused, she moves to grab both of your legs and placed them into her lap, comfortingly running her hand over your legs. you were so red that she laughed at you. she literally laughed at your face, smirking and moving to whisper in your ear again.

“what’s wrong, baby, are you hot?” you shake your head lightly, looking straight at the floor,

“well you look hot” she pauses “really hot” you lightly slap her chest and she laughs brightly at you, she was so obsessed with you, she wasn’t gonna hide it anymore. you needed to give her a taste of her own medicine, it wasn’t fair she had this advantage over you.

you grab her lightly by her necklace, bringing her ear to your mouth. “hypothetically, would you prefer if we made out or cuddled, or make out then cuddle?”, you graze your lips on her neck before you pull away. leah’s eyes widen and she squeezes the flesh of your thighs, you giggle at her bright red face as she moves away from you, clearing her throat and refusing to make eye contact.

“what? williamson, you’re just gonna leave me hanging?” she quickly glances over at you, making eye contact and flickering to your lips.

“you’re a little shit” before you could reply, you heard cheering, assuming the girls were coming out to play again, when you look up from leah’s eye contact, you noticed both you and leah were on the big screen, in a big, pink heart with ‘kiss cam’ written on the bottom of the screen.

leah was still looking at you, you frantically tap the back of your hand on her chest, her eyes following where yours were. she grins brightly, and pulls you into a searing kiss, your lips moving together in harmony, she gripped your thigh harder, pulling you impossibly closer, the crowd erupted in cheers when you both finally put everyone out of their misery.

you both couldn’t hear them, the camera showing other couples now. too focused on the kiss you were sharing. she prods her tongue on your bottom lip, you grant her access and both of you continue to share your emotions and love for one another through actions. after a little bit, you pull away and leah chases your lips to place a few more pecks on your lips, grabbing the base of your neck to keep you close.

once she finally pulls away, you both giggle - this was a long time coming and both of you were over the moon. she grabs your hands in hers and looks right into your eyes,

“if it wasn’t obvious, i love you, a lot, i have forever” she rubs her thumbs over your knuckles, you smile at her so lovingly, she swears her heart was beating so fast out of her chest.

“i’ve loved you forever, williamson, took you long enough” she scoffs at you,

“then why didn’t you say anything? why is this on me!”

“i’m shy!”

“uh, based on your little flirting in my ear, i think we’re way past shy, baby”,

“oh fuck you, what about you touching me all night?, the leg thing? and let’s not ignore this little outfit you’ve got on, this was your plan, huh? i bet you even organised the kiss cam” you say with fake annoyance, in reality you were so grateful for the kiss cam

she shakes her head at you, both of you pink in the cheeks, looking like you had gone outside without a jumper in the winter. “come on, let’s go then, my girl, i believe you promised me a make out and a cuddle”

“first of all, the game isn’t over, secondly, you didn’t respond i’m not sure if you deserve it-”

“i don't care”

she pulls you up by the hand, smiling as you walk past people, gunning straight for the exit.

once you both get back to your hotel room, let’s just say you kept your promise.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by bethmead_ and 44,232

leahwilliamsonn: thank you to the person that sent me this, new york with my girl was a success in many ways xx @/yourname

view all comments

yourname: you’re such a flirt

↳ leahwilliamsonn: pulled you though, didn’t i?

↳ yourname: sigh

↳ leahwilliamsonn: my baby

↳ yourname: MY baby

stanwaygeorgia: fucking finally

↳ leahwilliamsonn: shut up, we’re shy

↳ stanwaygeorgia: righttt

[mimimui]

I saw your "genshin boys asking for a kiss" and i felt like melting into a puddle it's so cute... ㅜㅡㅜ if i may ask, how would the sumeru boys react to reader who is unable to sleep because of their cold? like they try to sleep but the pounding headache, clogged nose, etc is preventing them to do so sobs

thank you so much beforehand!

sumeru boys versus your cold

includes: alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

tags: established relationship, endearments, fluff, kinda ooc(?) maybe, not proofread i'm sorry, mention of rudolph (is there even a rudolph in genshin? well there is now)

a/n: thank u so much! ♡⸜(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)⸝♡ i'm also currently suffering from a severely clogged nose so i understand the feeling x_x thanks for the request anon <3 i kinda struggled writing alhaithams aaa i hope it's still ok :') as always .. enjoy !

alhaitham knows you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, so when you started sneezing this morning, he didn't think much of it. he told you to drink some water and take meds, but that's mostly it. only when he was about to retire to your shared bed was when he noticed your loud, constant sniffling.

"(y/n), did you not take meds earlier?" he asks, switching the lamp back on. alhaitham places a hand on your shoulder, slowly moving you to face him. his eyes widen when he sees your red nose and tired eyes. "haitham.. can't sleep.." you mumble, your hands covering your face.

most people think alhaitham is a bit aloof, but they've clearly never seen him take care of you. he urges you to sit up, quickly getting a tissue for your runny nose. when you tell him, "i can't, my head hurts so bad.." he brings the tissue to your nose himself, asking you to blow into it.

this doesn't cure your clogged nose, however, as you continue to sniffle. he lays next to you, wrapping his arm around you, rubbing your back. "breathe through your mouth slower, copy me," he says, breathing at a slow, easy pace for you to replicate.

it takes some time for you to go to sleep, but even so, alhaitham stays awake the entire time, making sure you fall asleep before he does. when he notices your steady breathing and closed eyes, he smiles contently, glad that you were finally able to sleep.

"sleep well, my dear."

kaveh is not a stranger to sleeping with colds, especially since he's prone to sickness from always stays up late. when you tell him you can't sleep because you have a clogged nose, he immediately asks you if you want meds, tissues, or both. as he babbles on, you can only laugh at his reaction when you say, "i want you."

"that's bold for someone with snot running down their nose," he says teasingly, which earns him a pillow getting thrown at his head. "ow! you're mean when you're sick, (y/n)." he jokingly pouts as he sits next to you on the bed, rubbing the spot you hit with the pillow.

his expressions turns into a sad one as you suddenly lie down, your headache making you groan. he looks around for a bit before handing you the box of tissues he meant to give you earlier, telling you to blow your nose to clear it up a bit.

"i can't do this anymore, kaveh. i hate being sick." you cover your face with the blanket, sniffling underneath. "i know, sunshine, i know," he says, patting your thigh gently. "we all get sick from time to time, but trust me, you'll feel better in no time!" his tone is optimistic, but he makes sure not to be too loud, for the sake of your headache.

"...can you help me fall asleep, please?" you peek through the blanket, watching his reaction to your request. he smiles warmly, lying down and continuing to pat your thigh. he hums a calm, familiar tune—one of your favorites that he sings—and you can't help but smile.

it may be hard to breathe at the moment, but rest assured kaveh will comfort you in any way he can.

tighnari tells you to sit on the edge of the bed, in spite of your throbbing headache. you comply though, waiting for him to come back. it feels like a century when he returns to your room with a pot of steaming water. "place the blanket over yourself and the pot."

the hot steam hits your face and you wince a bit, not used to this kind of temperature. but when tighnari sits next to you and places a reassuring hand on your back, you find the steam a bit more bearable.

"nari, what does this do for me?" you ask, removing the blanket from over your head as 10 minutes pass. he mentions something about steam inahalation and so on, talking about how it can help relieve your clogged nose.

you're not yet entirely cured, but it's comfortable enough. he lies down next to you, an arm wrapping around your waist as he tells you he'll get medicine for you in the morning. his voice is soft, quiet, and gentle. it slowly fades away as you fall asleep, a satisfied tighnari beside you as he watches your eyes close.

"i'm happy to take care of you, my lover."

cyno tries to distract you with corny jokes, but archons, as much as you love him, his jokes are only contributing to your headache. he sits down on the bed, holding a glass of warm water he got for you. "i have a joke about colds, but i hope you don't get it."

"cyno, i love you, but you realize i already have colds, right?" he chuckles at your stressed reaction, asking you to sit up so you can drink water. "do you know what kind of shoes colds wear?" you sigh as you lie back down, pulling the covers over your head.

"aaaaa shoe!" he follows up, smiling at his own joke. you feel his head hit the pillow beside you, his hand finding yours to hold. he uses his other hand to pull the blanket off your face, the moonlight illuminating even the redness of your nose.

"seems like i have my own rudolph." you squeeze his hand tightly and he chuckles. "i apologize, (y/n)," cyno says in a low voice, bringing your hand up to his lips. he closes his eyes as he tells you to breathe deeply, repeating the phrase 'breath in, breath out'.

it's still a struggle to fall asleep, but cyno doing his best to help you breathe easier makes you feel a bit better. if you thought he worked hard as the general mahamatra, he works hard at taking care of you as well.

"let's visit tighnari in the morning. rest easy, (y/n)."

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[voltronisanobsession]

Heyyy can you please do Keith Kogane x a reader who is a space princess?? I love your work btw!!

Keith Falls for a Space Princess Headcanons

Thank you so much, I’m so happy you enjoy my writing!!! I hope you don’t mind that I did headcanons💔 I found this so cute bro I CANT 😭

Also I got another request similar to this one so I’ll debate if I’ll write a different scenario or not!!

Keith’s first impression of you wasn’t anything too extraordinary

Lowkey believed that you would just be another person they rescued from the Galra💀

But once finding out that you were a space princess like Allura, coming from a long line of ancient alchemists and sorcerers, it really peaks his interests

Depending on if you meet before he finds out he’s part Galra or after, that’ll start off the relationship

If we’re talking before, it would be a relatively chill introduction

Being a space princess often gathers you a lot of recognition but Keith captures your attention because of his lack of interest

While you’re used to many treating you with high respect, Keith just treats you normally, with the same tough attitude he has with everyone!

He basically treats you like a normal person, something you haven't felt in a loonnngg time💔

But if it's after he finds out he's part Galra and reveals it, then things would be REALLY tense, on your end at least...

The Galra have made you and countless others suffer for centuries, so knowing one of the paladins of Voltron, who are working to rid of the Galra Empire, is galran himself 😶

Yeah you're especially tense around Keith, untrusting toward him which bothers him for some reason

BUT MOVING ON

Of course, your own curiosity toward the boy ultimately leads you to spending more time with him

At first, he might find your lingering presence somewhat annoying since he isn't used to someone giving him all this extra attention

Always asking him questions during his training, sticking with him when out on missions

At one point, Keith gets used to your presence, a sense of normalcy falling between the two of you quickly as the weeks pass quickly

He opens himself up to you slowly, giving pieces of himself and his life to you while you do the same :D

He'll give you slivers of what his life was like on Earth while you share your own stories of life on your planet

He learns more about your culture, your duties as a princess, and even the history of your ancestors (something which you take pride in)

Because of the amount of time spent together, you guys grow close with every new mission and planet Voltron visits

And with this, this means that Keith begins to grow kinda protective of you?

LIKE LISTEN

He starts caring for you as time passes and he doesn't know exactly when things have been changing between the two of you??

He doesn't know when he began staring at you more often, he doesn't know when he began anticipating your arrival every morning, and he ESPECIALLY doesn't know when his heart began fluttering at the mere sight of you

Maybe it was the elegance that seemed to permanently stick to you after years of being in a royal court

Or maybe it was your constant nagging whenever he was around, sneaking past the walls he built around his heart

Or perhaps it was the caring hand you placed on his shoulder whenever his emotions got the best of him

He would totally go to Coran about possibly courting you because why not LMAO

Coran knows how princesses are supposed to be courted (hopefully), Keith just wants to impress you the best he can and fully believes only Coran holds the secret

So you’re just witnessing him falling over his own feet trying to approach you with uptight mannerisms while Coran watches his every move from afar

“For you my, uh, lady?” *holds out flower*

Cue Coran whispering loudly, “Good, good!”

Despite how endearing it is to see Keith try and keep up with the traditional courting, you have to reassure him that you don’t mind that he isn’t apart some royal family (he’s lowkey insecure that you might prefer someone with a similar background as you)💔💔

You like him for him, not caring for his status at all

With that, you both have a good flowing relationship, his intense personality softening with your own pleasant personality

He learns to control his emotions because of you while you learn to show more of your own because of him!!

You also show him the sort of sorcery you’re able to do, having learned from a young age to harness the power that resided into, which he finds SUPER cool and kinda confusing

He’s trying his best to understand😔

He still sometimes feels like he isn’t enough for you though so please PLEASE make sure to tell him other wise😭🙏🙏🙏

He holds you in a high regard because of your status as a princess, he makes sure to tell anyone he comes across that so they treat with respect😭😭

You’re lowkey embarrassed when he begins bragging about your heritage like bro stop😭

Yeah despite this, he still manages to not associate you with only being a space princess, but an honorary member of Voltron

He’s super soft for you I can’t😭😭

[melrodrigo]

Lovesick - W.A.

Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Wednesday are polar opposites. Do they really attract?

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Request from ages ago, I didn’t proofread this. Please excuse any mistakes. Happy reading! <3

Wednesday had a problem.

When Wednesday had first transferred to Nevermore, and gotten the infamous Enid welcome and introduction, she couldn't have cared less about you.

"That is Bianca Barklay, the closest thing to Nevermore royalty they'll ever be."

Then Enid pointed to a girl sitting next to Bianca, staring at the bubbles in the water fountain with intrigue.

"And that, is YN. She's the school heartthrob. It's just impossible to not love her, you'll see."

"She looks like a mushroom." Wednesday replied dryly, swiftly turning on her heel and heading back to her dorm.

"She's a sweetheart. Everyone likes her. You'll find out what I mean. I'm always right!" Enid shouted out, before quickly catching up and walking side by side with the goth.

Enid had warned that this would happen. God, how was Enid right?

Wednesday's frown only grew deeper as she thought back to the moments you've shared over the past year.

-

"Hey, you must be Wednesday right? New girl?"

All you got in return was a curt nod.

"Allllright, I get it, you don't wanna talk. Trust me I get it, I was so silent the first week here, some people thought I was mute!"

Silence.

You frown a bit but redirect your focus to the teacher emerging from the door.

-

"Enid I do not understand why I have to suffer not only with you, but her. I was content just sitting down in the dorm and practicing my cello."

The werewolf had recently gotten three free passes to Jericho, and decided to drag both you and Wednesday out for a cup of coffee.

"I hate to agree with her Enid, but I really have a lot of biology homework to do." You mused from behind, still sore from fencing class you had that day.

"Oh come on! It's good for you two to bond. My two besties, we're gonna be so cool together!" Enid makes an excited sound, "We should come up with a group name!"

When Wednesday quips back that she'd rather die in a long long torturous death (which she'd probably enjoy) instead of have a group name, you can't help but snort in agreement.

You shoot Wednesday a look, small smile playing on your lips.

-

Ever since that first day at Jericho, Enid had you guys connected by the hip. Unwillingly.

But as the days went on, Wednesday found out you weren't so bad.

She was particularly late to lunch today, catching up with updates on the hyde case.

In fact, she was debating skipping lunch all together. But as she glanced over to the pentagon, a hand shot up along with a shout.

"Wednesday! Over here!" You were waving your hand wildly, gesturing for her to walk over.

Wednesday bit back a sigh as she moved towards you, and to her surprise, there was one empty seat opposite of you, plate full, apple on the side.

"I got some lunch for you. Oh and a plain granola bar, I see you always like eating them." You tell her absentmindedly, munching on a sloppy joe.

Wednesday hesitates, before saying a quiet thank you.

"It's my pleasure Wends. So, how's the hyde case going?"

You both don't mention the fact you used a nickname to address her. She sighs, she supposed it was nice of you to get her lunch, so she tells you about the case.

"It's going well YN, I've just had a breakthrough......"

-

"Come on Wends, pleaseee? I really really really wanna go to The Weathervane."

You stare at Wednesday with your famous puppy eyes, and see Wednesday's glare soften just the slightest bit.

"I....suppose we can go in a few hours. After I've finished my writing hour, I have hyde business to do there anyway." She says, even though she'd already taken care of the issue already.

"Could you help me study for midterms? I do not understand anything for the life of me." You whine and throw the book back on her bed. Flopping onto the soft fabric dramatically.

"Bring it with you to the Weathervane." Wednesday says sharply, and returns back to her typewriter.

-

"Sucky Birthday to you Wednesday! Come, follow me." You squeal excitedly, reaching for the goth and pulling her by the wrist.

Physical touch has come sort of, natural to you with Wednesday. You were a naturally touchy person anyway, but when you were around Wednesday everything felt very...heightened.

Hm, I wonder what that is.

Wednesday was constantly complaining about your intense need to be touching her at all times, but she never actually pulled away when you did; and you're well aware she could if she wanted to.

"Where are we going?" She asks, tone somewhat annoyed.

You turn to her and smile; so bright Wednesday swears light shone through your teeth.

"Grave digging!"

Wednesday's eyebrows twitches in amusement, a small but noticeable movement. You've become sort of professional in her mannerisms over the past few months.

"I knew you'd like it. Come on." You say, practically sprinting to your destination. It's not a smart move, and you stumble over your own feet; arms still connected with Wednesday's.

You fall flat on your back into the soft grass, Wednesday on top of you.

She looks so good, the moonlight shining on her face. You steal a glance at her lips.

She's staring at you with wide eyes, arms on both sides of your face. Her braids frame your head a little.

She coughs awkwardly, then gets up and looks the other way.

You follow suit, trying to calm down your racing heart.

"Ooookay. Let's- let's get grave digging now." You say finally, watch as Wednesday walks toward you but avoids your eye.

She's grateful it's dark out, or else you would've seen the red coating her ears. And when you reach for her wrist she pulls back, afraid you'll be able to feel her racing heart.

-

It's parent's day. The long awaited dreadful day where Wednesday has to talk to her parents.

They'll be able to tell right away, she has no doubt. She's lovesick.

They’d see right through her. They're like magic love wizards in that way.

"You ready Wends?" You muse from behind her, take her hand in yours. You were currently situated in her dorm room, the two of you alone; waiting for your parents to come.

"No." She replies, but not in a sarcastic or dry way. She sounds kind of...scared.

You poke her cheek and watch as she tries and swat your hand away.

"You look a little on edge." You observe, staring at the hairs on the back of her neck.

She's a little afraid if she tells you why she's nervous for this specific meeting she'll let it slip that she might've accidentally caught feelings for you.

Ugh. Feelings.

It's come to the point where she can actually say she has feelings for you. It’s pathetic, and quite frankly sickening.

"I'm fine. Let's just get this over with." She grumbles, and bursts through the door; leaving you standing dumbly in her room.

"Wednesday, darling how have you been?" Her mother drawls, smile on her lips as she speaks.

"I've been good mother. Apart from the gigantic monster that's trying to kill me. Actually, I think I'm having lots of fun." Wednesday says, looking over her moms shoulder to spy on you.

Just a little bit.

You look lively, and happy. It makes her feel weird in her tummy.

"My little storm cloud, what are you looking at?" Her father asks, watching Wednesday with keen eyes. It wouldn't be obvious to anyone else, but Addams were very observatrice people, and he could tell straight away when Wednesday has lost focus.

He follows his daughters gaze to a certain werewolf. He has to blink one more time to make sure he's not seeing things.

“Oh," He smiles, soft. "I see what's going on."

Wednesday turns sharply, face impassive.

"You don't see anything." She says hotly. Too fast for her normal speech.

Her mom smirks, catching on quick.

"Oh sweetie, we think it's cute. Our little storm cloud is in love." They coo, leaning forward to whisper with Wednesday.

The black hair girl scoffs, and folds her arms in front of her chest.

"I am not in love. I do not know what you are talking about." She replies.

"Sure you don't." Pugley adds, peeping in between his parents.

Wednesday suddenly feels hot underneath their gaze. She gets up abruptly, tilts her face up in hopes for some high ground.

"You all annoy me. This is why I don't write to you." She says before turning on her heel and heading over to you.

You stare at her with curious eyes as she walks toward you. Stops in front of you, hands stiff like a soldier.

"Hey? Whatcha doing?" You ask, pat the seat next to you. She ignores the feeling of something fluttering in her stomach when you accidentally touch fingertips.

"I would like to stay here with you. If you do not mind. My parents are being...unreasonable." She says, picking her words carefully.

You chuckle, smile softly.

"Of course you can stay here Wednesday. Come, come meet my family."

Wednesday’s heart almost jumps out her chest. She's really not one to be scared easily, but this was easily one of the most intense moments of her life.

She usually didn't care if anyone didn't like her, but there was an underlying nagging feeling that told her this was important. Your family was an essential part of you, and if she wanted to win you over; she had to win over your family too.

"I can't wait."

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Hey love ! Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 🩷

Could you please do a Tommy X reader where the reader works for him ( it could be his maid or secretary) and someone says something mean to them and they feel so humiliated that they leave. At first Tommy doesn’t know what happened until someone tells him and he goes ballistic and ends up defending her then they end up together 🩷 it could be angst to fluff please :) thank you so much

Sorry for any mistake !! English is not my first language

Hey lovelie! Thank you so much for your ask, I can definitely do that for you!. Hope you guys enjoy.

This fic will be based around season three, this means that Tommy and grace do not get married, in this she had Charles then left Tommy. Also, in this Lizzie is a bitch but its only for the purpose in the fic x.

Summery: request above

Word count: 2,321

When you were twenty, you had graduated from bed-ford college, which was very uncommon since not many people could read or write, but luckily your mother learnt you from a young age how to both which allowed you to complete your studies.

However, this meant that when people found out you were from London and had gone to one of the most prestigious colleges for young women, you were judged. Most people thought you were a privileged woman from a rich family. Unknownst to anyone but yourself, you aren't. You lived in a one bedroom apartment with your mother and two younger sisters. Your father had left your mother ,after your youngest sister was born, for a younger woman.

As you grew up, your mother had become ill, she had began to suffer from Melancholia, as her doctor described it. She never recovered from it and died when you had moved back home after graduating. When your mother died, your young sisters were left in your care and you decided you wanted to leave London and find somewhere else for your sisters to grow up. After nearly four years, you found your current home, Birmingham.

You loved your job, all you had to do was respond to letters for Tommy, make sure his schedule was up to date, make sure there weren’t any over laps and make meetings on his behalf. The only bad part of the job was sharing the room with tommys other secretary, Lizzie stark. At first, when she had started working two weeks after you started. She was nice, you spoke everyday, had lunch together whilst on break but once you started to get closer to Tommy she began to change.

At the beginning, you pretended not to notice, thinking maybe she was just having a bad day but every time you went into tommys office without knocking or every time Tommy comes in work, he stops to speak to you and asks you how your weekends been and how you sisters are, Lizzie would grumble under her breath and when you weren't looking would steal the paperwork Tommy gave you to sort out so she could do it and claim you weren't.

Today was one of the days that Lizzie was being extremely bitchy, it was a Friday afternoon which meant Tommy wasn't in the office most of the day. He was either at a meeting or in the betting shop. This left you and Lizzie alone.

You had just gone into tommys office to put the paperwork Tommy needed on his desk when Lizzie walks in as well.

“ Tommy has a lot of whores, one for each month, which one are you?”she sits down at the round oak table, getting out a cigarette then lights it.

You turn around to look at Lizzie and frowns, not understanding the purpose of this conversation “ what Mr Shelby does in his personal life is none of my business”

“don't act dumb, you know what i'm talking about Y/N” Lizzie spits, venom lacing her voice.

“ i don't think we should be having this conversation when Mr Shelby isn't here, its not appropriate” you asserted, picking up another pile of paperwork, being to walk back to the double doors that leads out to you desk and Lizzie.

The sound of scuffing catches your attention, making you stop walking and look towards Lizzie once again “ get off your high horse Y/N, this is Birmingham everyone is a whore, they don’t have money to act like they are better then everyone” Lizzie barked, pointing a finger at you.

Your heart begins to race, the blood running through your veins begin to rush to your face, causing your cheeks to begin to heat up, it was like someone had turned up your internal thermostat to the maximum and now your face is a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous.

“ i'm sorry if i offended you in some way, i did not intend too” you apologise, you knew you hadn't said anything offensive but you didn't like confrontation and you wanted to avoid yelling in any possible way.

Lizzie takes a drag of her cigarette “ you are so insufferable, i dont know how your family deals with you” she chuckles under her breath.

At the mention of your family, you take a shakey breath and turn away from lizzie “ i need to start this paperwork” . As soon as you sit back at your desk, you began to look through the paperwork but you couldn't concentrate. what Lizzie said to you runs laps in your head, making your chin begin to quiver as your eyes begin to fill with tears.

Unfortunately, at the same time polly walks through the main doors into the building, she walks over to you. Wiping under your eyes quickly,putting a smile on your face.

“ hello Polly, what can i do for you?” you ask softly, your voice breaking slightly as you try to hold in your emotions.

Polly raises an eyebrow and places her purse down on your desk, watching as Lizzie walks out of tommys office with a smirk on her face but as soon as she sees Polly, she quickly covers it with a smile.

“whats happened?” Polly asks, suspicion filling her words, looking between Lizzie and you.

“ nothing pol, just talking business” Lizzie puts on a smile and looks towards you, her eyes widening for a second to tell you not to say anything.

“yes, just business” you agree, nodding slightly.

Polly hums “ if you say so, anyway is Tommy free in the afternoon this week” she asks.

You grab his schedule from your draw and begins to look through this weeks page he's free Wednesday afternoon from two o'clock onwards” you grab your pen “would you like me to write you in for a meeting with him”

Polly smiles and grabs her purse again “ yes, thank you Y/N, your a doll” she kisses your cheek softly then leaves.

The visit from Polly, helped you distract yourself from the situation with Lizzie, you smile happily as you begin to write down the information bout polly's meeting in tommys schedule. As you begin to write in the book, the ink tub falls onto the page causing you to gasp.

You look up and see Lizzie standing in front of your desk, smirking. she lights another cigarette “opps, i guess you'll have to tell Tommy you ruined his book” she tuts, shaking her head.

Once again, your pulse begins to race, your heart starts to beat so incredibly loudly, louder then gunshots. Your hands shake as you begin to try and pat the ink with her handkerchief but it wasn't working.

“no,no,no” your eyes begin to well up with tears for the second time, in less them an hour. You look up at Lizzie, disbelief in your eyes.

“ why would you do that, this has all of Tommy's schedules” you ask astonished.

“ you don't belong here, I've known Tommy before you even were in Birmingham, i should be sat in your chair. Everyday i have to see you prim and proper, giggling at Tommy” Lizzie rants angrily.

Unknownst, to both of them. Polly was still behind the door listening to the conversation. she knew something was wrong so she wanted to listen in case they were hiding something.

Polly leaves the office, determined to find Tommy to tell him what she heard between his secretaries. however, she couldn't find him.

It had been a few hours since the incident, you were quiet s you write a letter to Tommy, you have decided to leave your position of head secretary, you couldn't cope with the daily taunting from Lizzie.

The sound of the door opening and close catches both of the women's attention, you stand up immediately when you see Tommy.

“ Mr Shelby, i need to speak with you if that's alright” you ask softly as you walk around your desk, to stand beside Tommy.

Tommy nods and lights the cigarette that was resting between his lips “ come through to my office miss Y/N” he gently places his hand on the small of your back as you begin to walk to his office with him.

As the door to his office closes, you didn't notice Lizzie watching you. Her eyes like daggers.

“please sit” Tommy nods to the chair by his desk as he sits in his own chair, slowly blowing out the smoke from his mouth. You gulp and nod, sitting down slowly on the cold brown leather seat. the coldness helping to cool down your skin.

“ I've been thinking for the past couple of weeks, and i didn't want to do this but its the best thing for me” you explain, nervously fiddling with the letter in your hands. Your hand shake as you give Tommy the letter “ i'm giving in my notice as Secretary, i will be leaving this company after we finish this conversation”

Tommy frowns, taking the letter gently “ may i ask why” he raises an eyebrow, looking towards your direction. you end up making eye contact for the first time during this conversation.

You smile slightly, your eyes showing that you were distressed “ no reason, i just feel ready to move on”

The next day

Tommy had organised a company/ family meeting, he had some business to talk about. Lizzie had to sit in the meeting since you use to but now you had left your position, no one else can do it.

Tommy had ordered two peaky blinders to watch your flat, wanting you to be protected since people knew you were associated with them.

The meeting had started nearly half an hour ago, however Polly just noticed Lizzie sitting at the table. She frowns “ Thomas, where is Y/N?”

Tommy sighs and leans against the wall, taking out his cigarette holder then opens it “Y/N has decided to move on with her career and no longer work for me” he announces.

Polly raises an eyebrow, glancing at Lizzie, seeing her smirk slightly “ have something to say Lizzie?” her voice full of bitter.

Lizzie shakes her head, no saying anything. Tommy nods and lights his cigarette “ Lizzie, by tomorrow afternoon i need an advert in the paper for a new head secretary” he explains.

Lizzie frowns “you're looking for someone else, i thought i would take that position” she admits.

Polly chuckles and shakes her head “ is that why you forced Y/N to leave? or is it because you want to fuck Thomas?” she quizzes.

Lizzie blushes slightly as Tommy raises an eyebrow and looks towards her.

“is that right Lizzie?” he asks, his eyes turning cold.

“ it wasn't fair Thomas, she came in and you gave her the job straight away without even knowing her” she snaps, putting down her pen. The room went quiet after lizzies confession.

“you were jealous of her so you made her feel bad about herself so much that she left her job? ey? are you fucking proud of yourself” his voice begins to rise as he speaks.

“it wasn't-” Lizzie begins to defend herself when Tommy interrupts her.

“ By the end of today, i want your desk cleared and you stuff gone, you're fired” he points to the door as he speaks, Polly smirking as she watches Lizzie stand up and rush out of the door. As soon as Lizzie left, a blinder rushes into the room.

“Tommy, shes leaving. we followed her to the train station. shes got bags and her sisters are with her as well” he states, catching his breath.

Tommy immediately grabs his coat and cap, rushing out of the betting shop.

At the train station

The sound of people yelling and rushing to and from trains fills your ears as you carry your bags, your sisters infront of her, walking towards the platform where your train back to London would arrive. The clunking and screeching of train engines makes you flinch slightly, you never get use to that sound.

Your train was due for another hour but you wanted to have enough time for your sisters to say goodbye to their friends before you went to the train station.

As you sat on the bench with your sisters, you didn’t hear Tommy calling your name since the platform was extremely loud. However, in the corner of your eye you see him walking over.

“ girls, stay here” you instruct, standing up.

You walk over to Tommy, looking up at him as you both stand infront of each other. However, you didn’t have time to say anything before Tommy kisses you. You didn’t know what to do at first but after a few seconds you felt your shoulders relax as you ease into the kiss.

Time slows, your lips felt like they were made to connect with each other. The feeling of Tommys hand on your cheek causes goosebumps to arrise on your skin. You had wanted his mouth on your for months, but now it’s happening, you want to savour the moment.

Your lips part softly, chasing tommys as he pulls away “ what was that for?” You whisper, biting your lip ever so softly.

“ I should have done it awhile ago” he whispers, stroking your cheek bone gently “ come back, I know what happened, lizzies gone” he explains, looking into his eyes. His pupils blown.

You smile, chuckling under your breath “ okay” you whisper, putting your hand over his.

Tommy brushes his pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. A silent harmony parts your lips as a soundless breath leaves your mouth. Your eye lids slide shut as Tommy leans in, brushing his lips across yours, feeling the coldness of his skin, like snowflakes trundling down from the sky. The soft pillow of your mouth gives Tommy the pressure that he longed for.

This is the light at the end of the tunnel, and you’re so glad you survived.

A/N: hey guys, I don’t really like this one. It feels rushed and it’s unedited so there are a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes. Please do like and comment, I appreciate all of your support ❤️

[sergle]

I really truly, from the bottom of my heart, hate you bitches so much, because on the tiktok of literally COCK AND BALL jokes w brittany broski, there were a few notes/messages like this:

And I KNOW you don't think anyone's going to check. You had someone go into your askbox and say "hiii brittany broski is shitty about palestine she's really ignorant :/" and you went oh omg I didn't know!! thanks for telling me! So I checked! This is in reference to her talking in her podcast, because people were asking why she hadn't done any big press statements about Palestine, you didn't retweet this or that, you must not care, don't you care, what's your stance, etc etc please say more OKAY COOL. So what's going on there? What did Brittany say on her podcast? Is she a Bad Person? Can I have some transcript, please? ____ "Hey guys, before we get into this week's episode, I want to talk to you about the ongoing and prolonged suffering and loss of life in Gaza, in Israel, and the oppression of Palestinian people widespread. I don't ever want it to be a question that I would ever not be against the oppression of any group of people, that I would ever stand on the side of the oppressor." "There was a lot of fear of misusing my platform." ... "I will admit that I was nervous to talk about it, because I don't want to say the wrong thing. And this is too fucking serious of an issue to misspeak, or to spread misinformation, or to speak over or for someone." ... "So I want to take a moment on my biggest platform- which is this podcast, to say that I stand with the people of Palestine, I stand for the liberation of Palestinian people." ... "Every day, to log on to social media, and be just inundated with graphic, unimaginable violence, and loss, and grief, it's just--There are no words." ... "And I feel helpless. That's part of it too, when you feel helpless, the last thing you want to do is talk to people about it-- but visibility is a resource in and of itself. And I can offer that." ... "The outpouring of rage and passion online, and anger at what's happening, I would argue needs to be dedicated and focused on our elected officials. We live in a democracy- albeit an inherently flawed one- we live in a democracy where we have elected officials who were elected and put in power to represent us, and if we feel misrepresented, if we feel underrepresented in foreign affairs? These officials have public phone numbers and emails. There are scripts available online to express your disdain and your rage, and unfortunately that's one of the only ways we'll see actionable change."   "If you expected more from me, it's a terrible feeling- but I don't want to center myself, this needs to be all eyes on Palestine right now, where the real activism is happening. I would encourage you to follow journalists that are on the ground, people who are in Gaza, we need to be listening to them. I would also hope that we're at a point in this conversation where I can express my desire to stand in solidarity with the people of Palestine and that NOT meaning or suggesting or condoning anti-Semitism of any kind. There's a rise of anti-Semitism and islamophobia in the United States and it's just-- it's disgusting, and it's scary, so I want that to be said too. I just wanted to share that I am experiencing part of this collective sense of helplessness and hopelessness-- but it DOESN'T HAVE to be hopeless. I'm going to include a phone number in the description of this episode where, if you don't know the name of your senators or your Congressman, it's never too late to learn, and you can reach out to them." _______ Hm. What a bitch!! Yeah, just so ignorant and uncaring. Obviously she's not keeping up with anything. Should've retweeted more shit ig!

[noraigo]

some days ago, i started watching we are the series, since a friend of mine tried to convince me for a long time to tune in. we are isn’t exactly the type of series i would watch. not disregarding its charm, i must admit it’s even endearing, i’m just more keen on the angsty, adult queer love. however, there’s a certain couple that’s been running nonstop in my mind ever since i started the series and, of course, it’s no other than tan and fang.

tan is certainly unique as a whole, because if anything — i think it’s the first time i see such a loud but not annoying character, and that’s hard to portray. his excitement seems genuine all the time and i feel his happiness is shared through the screen. that doesn’t brush off his emotional intelligence and i think people underestimate this trait of his: just because he seems silly and party-loving doesn’t mean that he is insensible. he can be serious if it’s needed and he cares for the people around him. it’s safe to say that cheerful characters are often overlooked because of it and, as viewers, we shouldn’t take it for granted.

fang, on the other side, is the total opposite of him, yet it doesn’t make him less interesting. his background is implied to be unstable, which made both phum and fang be more closed off emotionally speaking. even so, fang is trying his best to be on the same page as tan, though tan adores him when he’s serene and quiet. most of the time, characters like fang are misunderstood and it’s a little saddening. he is kind and tough, but it’s not hard to love him. something tan understood from the very beginning.

their dynamics keep me pushing watching the series. now that fang has been softening more and more, their scenes became even lovelier to watch, if that was ever possible; their kisses, clear eyes of infatuation, playful banters and words of love show it. i’m not a fan of sex scenes, they underwhelm me a little (might be the acespec in me), but tanfang’s was just perfect. not too much, not too little. just enough to show that these two desire each other. possibly, it could be not their first time as a couple, which is refreshing and new in thai queer shows as far as i've seen. (aouboom definitely enjoyed kissing and touching each other a little too much but, didn't the same happen with hidden agenda? just saying.)

people like them could be too much for others, but for each other, they are an absolute match. fang knows tan loves him unconditionally and so does tan. tan tries to push him for the better without overstepping his boundaries whilst fang apologizes if his behavior might be irrational when he’s angry and accidentally lashes out on tan. that’s actual respect and patience in a relationship. none of them are trying to change the other to fit their own personality, they have already changed once they realized they were into each other back then when they were problematic teens. ain’t that sweet?

just look at these sweet two blorbos, just in their own world, happy and in love.

on another note, though, i’ve gotten to know aouboom since viceversa era and i could already smell the cute chemistry between both, yet it’s very sad to know they suffer from secondary couple syndrome. how many series have they starred in as a second or even third couple? very unfair, gmmtv, you better give them a nice series, regardless of its length. as long as they don’t keep acting in college settings, i would give my entire scholarship for a coffee shop or any other ordinary plot. they are just THAT good and i will never get tired of their chemistry. they have a kind of spark i see very rarely and if gmm doesn’t give them a shot, they’re losing a potential gem.

please, give us more tanfang content and especially, an aouboom series. thank you very much.

[elsa-fogen]

What are your 3 most and least favorite Hazbin characters and why? I love reading your thoughts on things. <3 Awesome work btw!

Favs are easy

Alastor. Well, you could've guessed lol. He's the reason i'm in the fandom. I don't know why i like him that much. Maybe because he's creepy, powerful, but also not the MOST powerful (although in my head i want him to be teehee), also cool voice and the fact that he was almost cut in half and had a mental breakdown. I started liking him AFTER the season ended, so, i guess, seeing him being destroyed by Adam was Important. Also he's ace (and most likely aro) so i don't have to worry that he'll be involved in some ungodly ship in the future (I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY, RIGHT? RIGHT????). I want to see him suffer, i want to see him broken, i want to see him rise and conquer Hell.

Rosie. HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE HER? She's amazing on her own, but i guess she didn't have enough screen time to be my favorite on her own. But her dynamic with Alastor worth a world, PLEASE I'M BEGGING, I WANNA SEE MORE OF THEM IN SEASON 2. LET THEM BE MARRIED FOR TAX REASONS AND RUB IT IN LUCIFERS PATHETIC FACE

Angel Dust?? Maybe. I'm not sure. He COULD be my favorite, he has incredible angst, it's delicious... But the problem is - he's too horny for my ace ass and his angst mostly revolves around sex which i don't like.

But it's harder to choose which characters i dislike, because i either like them or just don't care enough. but...

Valentino. I mean. He's great antagonist for Angel, and i would LOVE to see him being murdered in the most brutal way... But still, when i think about Val i don't have anything positive about him.

Lucifer. Don't get me wrong. He's fun (his line about depression is iconic), he's silly little guy. But he's TOO silly for my liking. And i wouldn't care about him at all, if it weren't for the... *sigh* the fandom and the fucking r*dio*plle. I hate this ship so much (BECAUSE IT'S EVERYWHERE AAGGHHPGFRRGFG) that it makes me dislike Lucifer too, and be suspicious about any art where i see him and Alastor interacting which is a pity because they have really fun dynamic in canon and i would love to see where it goes. But the fandom ruined it. Thanks, hazbin fandom.

It's hard to choose third one. Because other characters... Well, i don't care about them and i don't feel anything negative about them. Adam? I actually like him, he's fun and his relationships with Lute actually my second fav ship in the show (first being platonic radiorose). I like Lute too (how can i say no to a warrior girl who's little bit fucked up) (and also if she's gonna have revenge arch... Alastor may have to move a bit and share the first place with her)

Ehm, anyway... i can't find third character i dislike even slightly. Maybe i'll remember something later, maybe not, maybe season 2 eill have someone i'll add to the list haha

But for now i'll stop here.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Self-Sacrificial

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: You like Street as more than a friend, but think he will never feel the same. When you nearly lose him, you accuse him of not caring about you or anyone else because you can't see the truth.

Warnings: quick joke about being dead, angst to fluff, arguments, Street gets hit by a car, fluffy comfort

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“What are you doing?” Street asks from above you. He taps your leg with his foot as he continues, “You dead or something? You’ll be hard to replace.”

“I’ve been waiting for you,” you answer. “You’re late.”

As you open your eyes, Street shakes his head and offers a hand. You accept his help and allow him to pull you from the concrete beside the S.W.A.T. HQ entrance. Street leads you inside, but before you can greet the rest of your team, Lynch calls you into her office.

“If I get fired for waiting for you, I’ll be very mad,” you mumble as you pass Street.

“I need to talk to you as a woman, not as a lieutenant,” Lynch explains as you close her office door.

“Okay,” you murmur slowly. “As long as I’m not in trouble.”

“No,” she assures with a smile. “It’s about your relationship with Street.”

“Relationship?” you repeat. “We’re not-“

Lynch raises her hand to stop you. “I know, I’ve heard it. You’re friends, that’s all. If that’s what you’re sticking with, fine. But… you and Street are special.”

“You’re still talking as my accidental mother figure, right?”

Lynch rolls her eyes but doesn’t argue with your terminology. From the moment you began working with her, she took an unexpected role in your career and in your life.

“Just be careful, okay. Lie to yourself if you need to, but don’t let the blinders you keep on get in the way of everything else,” she concludes. “And if you decide to take those blinders off, let me know and we’ll get ahead of IA.”

“Blinders,” you whisper. “Sure thing. Thanks for the talk.”

Hondo knocks before he opens Lynch’s door. “We’re rolling.”

You nod at Lynch and then rush out after Hondo to join your team. Those blinders she mentioned are a topic you’d rather ignore. They’re important to you because the moment you look at Street the way you want to – as more than a teammate and friend – you’ll be exposed to the harsh truth that Street will never see you the same way. The only mirror image in this situation is the heartbreak you’ll see looking back at you.

As you climb into Black Betty, Tan and Luca are discussing a new restaurant opening this weekend. You should be used to their oddly timed topics by now, you think.

“I’d be happy to test it out for you,” Street offers. “Give me a few hours to get a date and then you can have a full review by tomorrow.”

Your jaw clenches. Street is your best friend, but that doesn’t make this any easier. Whenever he says or does something that reminds you of his ability and desire to date women who aren’t you, you take a step back. The teasing, the competition, and incredible bond you have with him strains when you do this, and he suffers because of your buried feelings, but losing him may be better than learning you can never have him.

“What do you think?” Street asks you.

You shrug and keep your attention on your helmet.

“C’mon,” he presses. “Everybody has an opinion on good restaurants.”

“You certainly do,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

Deacon and Hondo share a look that goes unnoticed by both you and Street. With your eyes down, and Street’s locked on you, it’s incredible to the rest of your team that you can’t actually see what is right in front of you.

“I’m sure it’s a great place for dates,” you agree.

“And?” Street questions.

“And what?”

“What is wrong with you?”

You shrug again and Hondo cuts Street off to explain the plan for the raid. He puts you and Street on opposite sides of the house, which is probably in your best interest.

“You can’t just ignore me,” Street whispers harshly as you exit Black Betty.

“We’re working,” you remind him.

“If you can keep working without getting exhausted from the back and forth of being my friend and ignoring me because you’re jealous about my date or something, I can do my job and ask a question.”

You take a deep breath, willing yourself not to respond to his low jab. “Let’s just finish the raid, Street, and if you want to make up more stupid ideas about why I don’t want to talk to you sometimes later, I’ll try my best to listen.”

Street reaches for your arm, but you step away quickly to join Deacon.

“You’re not just hurting him, you know?” Deacon murmurs.

You don’t answer, but as you follow Deacon to the west side of the house, you find yourself thinking about Street again. The feelings that stir within you every time you see Street hurt you far worse than they will ever hurt him. If you can survive his lack of feelings, he can deal with you getting some space.

“22-David, in position on 3 side,” Luca radios.

“30-David, ready on 4,” Deacon adds.

“26-David, go for 2,” Street says.

“20-David, breach on my mark,” Hondo commands. “3, 2, go, go, go.”

You follow Deacon into a side door and through a tight hallway. As you enter the kitchen in the back corner of the house, there’s no sign of the resident.

“Eyes on one suspect,” Street alerts. “He’s running east; 26-David in pursuit.”

“One in custody,” Luca calls.

Deacon gestures back toward the door you entered and tells your team that you’re assisting Street. As you run back into the yard, you navigate around the house and toward the road quickly.

“LAPD!” Street yells ahead of you. “Stop!”

The suspect turns off of the sidewalk suddenly and sprints across the road. You speed up as Street turns to follow him. A car engine rumbles around the curve, and you know they won’t be able to see anyone in the path until it’s too late.

“Street!” you yell.

The engine grows louder, and your lungs seem to constrict as you watch the driver round the corner. They appear to be going the speed limit, but that doesn’t make what happens next any less painful. As the suspect reaches the sidewalk on the other side, you only watch Street. The approaching car slides to a stop, but it’s not fast enough.

“Street!” you yell again.

The bumper knocks his legs out from under him, and his helmet dents the hood before he rolls back onto the asphalt. As you reach him, you rip your helmet off to see him better.

“Go get him,” Street implores, holding his stomach.

“No, Street,” you argue.

“Get him. I’m fine.”

Street groans and you know he isn’t fine, but you need that suspect in custody today. You leave your helmet beside Street and run faster than you ever have before. Without thinking, you tackle the suspect to the concrete and cuff him as he moans in pain.

“Hondo, Street’s down. Suspect in custody,” you radio.

“R/A’s en route,” Hondo replies.

Luca runs toward you as Deacon and Hondo approach Street. The driver is standing by his door and rubbing his hand over his face nervously. Everything in you wants to run back to Street and help him, tell him that he’s special to you and you need him, but that’s not your job right now. Maybe Lynch was right about those blinders, you think. Then, as you remember what Deacon said, you realize that the burning in your chest has nothing to do with how hard you ran, and everything to do with the fact that you may lose Street anyway, and he will never know that you see him as so much more than your best friend.

“Let’s go,” Luca says as he pulls the suspect to his feet. “You alright?” he asks you.

You swallow quickly and nod. The ambulance arrives as you and Luca meet the responding patrol officers, and you miss your chance to go with Street.

“He’s going to St. Stephen’s,” Deacon tells you after everything silences. “He was still conscious, so that’s a good sign.”

“Deacon,” you begin. “I can’t- I can’t lose him.”

“He needs you,” Deacon adds. “Luca’s gonna drop you off on the way back to HQ.”

You nod. Everything numbs as you follow Deacon to Black Betty. There’s nothing you can think of or say that will make this go away, not without telling Street everything. As Luca drives to the hospital and your team talks – it’s nothing more than muffled background noise as you stare at the empty seat before you – your emotions shift. You almost lost Street because he didn’t listen, because he got caught up in the chase and didn’t think about how his decision would affect him or anyone else.

“Thanks, Luca,” you mumble as you exit the double doors.

The rest of your team pulls away as you walk into the hospital. With your uniform still on, you don’t even have to ask anyone for help before you’re led to Street’s side.

“Hey!” he calls when he sees you. “Oh, ow,” he mumbles as he lays back.

Your plan to tell him the truth disappears when you see the smile on his face. He still doesn’t realize just how stupid he was.

“Glad you’re okay,” you say. “Though I’m sure that’s just luck. You- Street, that was so reckless. If you want to throw away your safety, do it on your time!”

“I-“

“No; whatever excuse you’re coming up with, just save it. You’re self-sacrificial and today proved why. You don’t care about anyone else, and you don’t seem to realize or care that I- that people care about you! When you pull that hero act, you’re showing how blind and how stupid you are.”

You release a breath as you finish. Part of you whispers that you’re being a hypocrite; Street isn’t the only blind and stupid one in this hospital room. He’s not the only one sacrificing parts of himself because he thinks being selfish and secretive is the only way to stay happy and avoid rejection. So, you decide to listen to the part that is mad at Street for risking his life and not caring how it affected you. And the rest of your team, of course.

Street’s brows furrow as you rant. After you fall silent, he asks, “Are you done?”

“Yeah,” you answer.

“I’m fine,” Street argues. “You seem very upset, and I’m sorry about that, but it’s a minor injury, and I-“

You weren’t expecting Street to argue with you, to find a way to make you seem wrong for caring about him. And when he says minor injury as if he wasn’t hit by a car, you know you can’t stay. Without a word, you turn and exit his room as you ignore his calls for you.

“Hey,” Hicks calls.

You look up and see him walking through the hall, likely to see Street.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s… he’s still Street,” you say.

“And you?”

You shrug and answer, “I didn’t get hit by a car. I’m heading back to HQ.”

Hicks nods and taps your shoulder kindly as you leave. You need to blow off some steam and get Street off your mind for a while, and HQ is the perfect place to do that.

As you call Deacon to come get you, Hicks enters Street’s room and closes the door.

“How you managed to not break your leg is a mystery for the ages,” Hicks says.

“Well, apparently I’m just lucky,” Street murmurs. “And blind, and stupid.”

Hicks nods as he takes a seat. “What’d you do to make her so angry?”

“Nothing! She’s mad because I’m ‘self-sacrificial’ and it was a misguided ‘hero act.’ Her words.”

“You think she’s wrong? No self-sacrificial motivations?”

Street looks away from Hicks as he considers why he ran after that suspect without looking and why he ignored you when you yelled his name.

“We got into an argument before we got there,” Street admits.

“I didn’t realize you two were already together.”

“We’re not. She, uh, she’d never.”

“Right,” Hicks agrees sarcastically. “Because that woman who just came in here and yelled at you for getting hurt doesn’t feel anything for you. Surely you can see, despite your track record, that she cares that you got hurt. She’s mad because she could have lost you.”

“She can’t lose something she doesn’t want.”

“Street, open your eyes. No one yells at someone they’re indifferent to. But someone you’re scared to lose? They’re worth getting mad about.”

Street replays your words in his mind. You don’t care about anyone else, and you don’t seem to realize or care that I- that people care about you! You almost said it, Street realizes. You almost admitted the very thing Street has thought for longer than he remembers.

“When can I leave?” Street asks.

“Easy,” Hicks answers. “They’ve got to observe you for a while and make sure you don’t have any internal damage.”

“Is the driver okay?”

Hicks stands and buttons his jacket as he says, “You’re not that strong, kid.”

As Street gets advice from Hicks, you try to avoid Lynch. It doesn’t go well, however, because the moment your fist makes impact with the punching bag, she appears.

“We need to talk,” she says.

“Can it wait?” you ask between a jab and a cross.

“No. I know you’re worried about Street, where that anger is coming from. But the question I have is, do you know why you’re so upset?”

“Because he could’ve gotten himself killed and he doesn’t care!” you exclaim.

“He doesn’t care that he could have died, or he doesn’t care that he would’ve been taken away from you?” Lynch challenges.

You drop your hands and exhale. “What does that mean?”

“You tell me. Is the anger because you care about him and need him or because he went against protocol? For me, I would be mad about the paperwork I had to do, but you…”

“So, what you’re telling me is that I got angry with him because I don’t want to lose him. The one man in the world that I have absolutely no chance of ever having. That doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe not. Or it could be that the idea you can’t have him is just that – your idea. If you never give him the chance to answer, you’ll never know.”

“But I could lose him anyway,” you say softly.

“Or you could lose the chance to have him. Just… think about it, figure out why it bothers you so much, and then do something about it. Whether that’s telling him the truth or just being a supportive team member.”

You watch Lynch leave, then turn away from the bag.

“Ready?” Deacon asks.

“What?” you reply.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask for a ride back to Street.”

“You don’t have to rub it in, Mr. I-know-my-teammates-well-and-have-scary-good-intuition.”

“It’s a wonder I even have a license to drive you with a last name like that,” Deacon teases as he leads you to the parking area.

Outside Street’s room, you stop and take a deep breath. After you knock, you step through the open door and stop at the foot of his bed.

“I’m sorry,” you begin. “I thought-“

“I care about you,” Street interrupts. “I like you. I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t remember life without you.”

Your eyes widen with Street’s confession. Even if he’s exaggerating, hearing that you’ve had an effect like that on Jim Street gives you hope. He’s everything you want and more, but you never expected to hear anything like this from him.

“I like you, too,” you confess. “That’s why I got so mad. I didn’t want to lose you, but I shouldn’t have said all of that about you. I’m sorry.”

“I was self-sacrificial. I couldn’t see that you cared, so I didn’t think it would matter.”

“Of course it matters, Street. You matter,” you insist as you walk to his side.

You take Street’s hand, and he smiles at you. There’s still a pain in you, a sympathetic, emotional hurt for Street and what you both went through.

“I guess it’s a good thing I was stupid and blind enough to get run over by an innocent bystander,” Street jokes.

“You’re insufferable,” you respond.

Your smile betrays you, and Street knows you don’t mean that. You meant everything before. Though you think it’s too early for him to be joking about his accident and the injuries he’ll certainly feel tomorrow, you appreciate his sense of humor and the way he holds your hand. He can be insufferable, but now that you’re finally accepting the truth that Jim Street likes you too, it’s different and it always will be.

[greenerteacups]

Hi GT, I hope you are doing well! who is your favorite Weasley?

Thank you! Absolute treat of a question. Oh, man. It's Ron, right? It was always going to be Ron.

So here's the thing: the Weasleys are a really well-characterized family in that you can kind of see a lot of character emerge through limited sketches and contextual information. Bill is Number One Boy, the best at everything, oldest child who was always confident and at peace with his indisputable place in the family; so he's a chill, cool, incredibly competent guy who naturally takes-charge. Charlie is a patented never-grew-out-of-your-middle-school-dragons-phase Weird Kid, but like, mindfully and enthusiastically so, because his parents probably still had plenty of time to support and nurture his interests; plus he's also different to Bill and excels in different ways, so they aren't too competitive (as we see). Percy is the first one to suffer from the pressure of mounting expectations, and he's very quickly followed by the twins, who do the classic "if I can't be the best I'll be the worst" late-sibling trick of acting up for attention, so he gets lost in the shuffle. (The fight between Ron and Percy in Chapter 58 is, hence, in substantially about the relationship between the two most-ignored members of the Weasley family, and that's why Ron is so much angrier at him than the rest of them. Like I've said before, Ron always thinks he's got it the worst, but he takes pride in being able to kinda "tough it out," and nothing pisses him off like other people's self-pity.) Ginny is obviously the baby of the family, a girl with everyone wrapped around her finger, and I love her, but I feel like we didn't get enough grit in her portrait— she's just really successful in everything she does, in a way that can read as flat to some people, and certainly read as flat to me my first time through the books. In fact, Ginny reminds me a lot of Bill: first daughter/first son, described often as "cool" and clever and good at basically everything, charming and generally liked by all. Which is lovely. A delight to read, just like the twins are. But my taste in characters ranges way more fucked-up and mean.

Ron is the last boy, "sixth son of a woman who wanted a daughter" (fascinating line that complicates everything we know about Molly's relationship with her kids — and BTW, how the hell does Ron know that, and how old was he when he learned it? And this also comes into play with Molly's cry of "not my daughter" to Bellatrix which like, as a moment obviously fucking rules, but also — there's a reason she says daughter, not "child," right? Do you see what I'm digging at? Anyway). Ron meets Harry and recognizes himself in how Harry defaults to thinking people don't care about him, or won't help him if he asks, because — although they come from very different circumstances, Ron's home was completely loving, just not as nurturing as he always needed it to be — Ron usually goes in assuming people don't care about him, too. So his first instinct is to go: "Alright. Well, I'll care about you, then, weird stranger. Do you want to share my horrible sandwich, and also my life, perhaps?" Goddamn! Sixth of seven in a house with never enough to go around, and he's immediately like: "fuck it, room for one more." Because he could have been Percy — and you can see it in the way that Ron is mean, sometimes, he's not careful with his words and he struggles with empathy and he's got a vengeful streak that comes out when he's pissed — but he isn't selfish enough, he loves too much and too easily, and it takes shockingly little to earn his loyalty. You just have to pay a little attention to him.

[daughterofcain-67]

𝙾𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙾𝚞𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 (𝚙𝚝4) (Edited)

(Soldier Boy x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: While waiting on Butcher to find the location of the TNT Twins, Hughie starts to get to know Soldier Boy a little bit more. You, however, are still unsure how you even let Ben convince you to be a part of his revenge plot. Hesitant on even going along with him to visit the twins, Butcher finally finds their location.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of herogasm, threatening Butcher, slightly argumentative reader, I think that might be it?

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫‘𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Hello everyone! Sorry I haven’t been active this past week. Life has been busy and hectic this past week and a half but I will be posting more parts this week! This is more so a filler chapter than anything but things will be picking up in part 5 which will be out very soon! Thank you all for your patience and support with this story!

This was nuts. Why the hell you let Ben convince you to come along with Butcher and Hughie was beyond you.

Evidently it was just Buther and Hughie. You didn’t know why their friends parted ways but you didn’t ask either - it wasn’t exactly your business and you didn’t really care about the drama that must’ve happened within the group. All you wanted was for Ben to get his revenge over with so they could move on to whatever favor Butcher needed from Ben, no matter how bad of an idea it could have been.

You were sitting at the desk in the hotel room you were sharing with Ben, reading a book you managed to grab from your house. You didn’t know how long you would be away after all so you grabbed some clothes, a few books, and your chest of letters hidden in the trunk of your car. Unfortunately for you, you were finding out that you haven’t been able to focus on the chapters you were reading for the past couple of pages. Well, more than a couple of pages, maybe a couple dozen. So you closed the book and set it on the desk before going to look out of the window.

When you lifted your hands to look through the blinds, you could hear Ben’s voice breaking the silence between the two of you.

“What’s got you so antsy?”

“Everything.”

You heard him let out a hum but then you felt his presence behind you followed by his hands on your hips, “Care to expand on that a little? I’m not a mind reader.”

You rolled your eyes a little as you let your hand go from the blinds.

“I wish you didn’t hold such a nasty grudge against your team. And I wish you weren’t so eager to help someone like Butcher.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? Darlin, you can’t expect me to let my teammates live after what they’ve done. As far as Butcher, Homelander is just another name on the list I’ve got.”

You turned to him and you looked up at him, “They’re treating you like a mindless killing machine! They’re using the anger you’ve got against your team and using it to their advantage.”

“Sweetheart, I know what I’m doing and what I’m capable of.”

“Do you? You just got these abilities from the Russians and you’re the one that blew up that building! You killed nineteen people Ben! Nineteen!”

Ben took his hands off you and his brows narrowed as he took a step back, “You know I didn’t mean to hurt those people, Y/N. When I killed Countess, that was direct. Other people were there and they didn’t suffer.”

“But you still don’t know how you lost control on that building Ben. What if someone from Vought catches you? What if someone from Butcher’s team turns on you? What if things go south and you get sent back to Russia?” You questioned, trying to see the reality of different outcomes.

“You know damned well I can take care of myself.”

“But you didn’t in Nicaragua.”

You saw a change in Ben’s eyes when he looked at you. Some sort of betrayal or some sort of hurt that came to his ego. You weren’t a fool, you knew his pride was definitely one of his many problems. But it still hurt you to have him look at you like that.

“You know what, I don’t need you to doubt my capabilities. If you really have a problem with this whole thing then I don’t see why you agreed to come along.”

You watched as Ben sat down at the table to eat some of the food Butcher and Hughie got them earlier. You frowned before you walked behind him and carefully placed your hands on his shoulders.

“I don’t doubt your capabilities. You’re the strongest man I know, and you’ve accomplished so much in your lifetime. What I am doubting is your experience with this new power specifically. And I’m only saying what I am to help you keep everything in mind, to help look out for you.”

He let out a sigh and looked down at his hands and you could feel his shoulders get a little less tense as you spoke again, “I just don’t want anyone to take you away again.”

“You don’t know that they can even do that again now that I’m capable of that kind of destruction.”

“You’re right, I don’t know that. But still… if it were up to me, I’d say kill Payback on your own. Let Homelander be their problem.”

“They’re useful to us, Y/N. They can lead us to where the remaining members of Payback are. Then I can kill them off. They won’t do that for free. Help always comes at a price.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all. You never needed a team even if you were a part of one. What makes you say they can be useful?”

“Come on, Y/N. You know the runt called me out, asking me if I knew what the fuck a GPS. And what the hell is an internet or a Bluetooth? I still say he made that shit up until you showed me what the damned thing was. How the hell am I supposed to work one of those?”

You sighed a little before you let go of his shoulders and sat back down at the desk to pick up that book you were attempting to focus on beforehand.

Ben looked over at you, and he knew you were frustrated with him on this whole thing. There was just some things you didn’t understand. You weren’t there when they put all of that radiation into his body, you didn’t know the kind of pain he went through while the Russians experimented on him.

So this was his choice, and his alone. As much as he loved you, he didn’t need your input. Not on this.

When the door opened, Ben looked up and noticed it was Butcher and the runt.

“Hey. You two bring the good stuff?” Ben asked, Butcher handed him a bag that had a pill bottle and some whisky. As he poured a couple of the pills on the table, he noticed from the corner of his eye you rolled your eyes and buried yourself deeper into your little book.

Now wasn’t really the time to focus on your disapproval of the methods he had, he had bigger fish to fry and the sooner he killed his teammates, the sooner he could get this Homelander thing over with and he could finally move on and find somewhere else to stay with you.

“Have either of you found those damned twins?”

“Excuse me…” You got up and left and walked out of the hotel room. Where you were going, Hell if Ben knew. But he let out a sigh and he looked back at the two who were trying to help him.

“Not yet. My sources aren’t as fast as I’m hoping they’d be. I’m just dropping the lad off and gathering more info where I can.” Butcher said and he opened the door once more.

“I’ll be back when I’ve got some news for ya, Mate. Won’t be too much longer now.”

Ben watched Butcher shut the door, leaving Hughie there. Probably to supervise him so he wouldn’t blow up the damned hotel. Those assholes must’ve failed to realize Ben was a hero back in the day and he didn’t need to be babysat. It was ridiculous. But then Ben looked over at Hughie.

“Are you sure all of that new bullshit techno-crap will help us find the rest of my team?” He asked skeptically as Hughie broke out some laptop.

“Well, it did help us find Crimson Countess for you.” The runt reminded and Ben rolled his eyes, but he noticed Hughie looked over at Ben.

“What was it like? Being a soldier I mean.”

“Ahh you don’t really want to know. It’s not like you would have lasted that long in any war anyway.” Ben said and he got up from the table so he could watch some television. He ended up finding one of his movies was on so he figured he’d leave the channel there.

“Please, Soldier Boy? I know I’m not much, Hell I’m still trying to prove to Butcher I can at least do one or two things right but I’m failing miserably.”

Ben sighed a little, growing a little frustrated by the boy’s neediness. It was honestly a little pathetic. But alas, he caved and started to speak, “Bein’ on the field is a Hell all it’s own, Kid. These little movies here? That’s not what it’s like at all.”

“Then why film them if that’s not really what it’s like?”

“I was involved with Vought, why do you think they wanted me to do these damned movies with a bunch of unprofessionals like those idiot twins?”

“Money..”

“Bingo. Anyway… I lead the hundred-sixteenth on the Omaha Beach, the Eagle’s Nest… Hell I was even in Afghanistan before we ended up with out asses in the air. Fighting isn’t easy, and you see a lot of shit you don’t want to. People get killed and there have even been times where I have wondered if it was all worth it. It really tests how much of a man a person can be when he’s face to face with death and Hell itself.” Ben said as he poured himself a glass of whisky in one of those silly cups that had some supes on it.

“What’s worse is when people forget about you… I fought for this damned country and all I got was left to rot by my own fucking team, forgotten in the end.”

“Y/N never forgot about you.” Hughie said, “In fact, right after Vought announced your supposed death, there were a lot of people who were in denial. In the beginning there were a lot of conspiracies and Y/N was a part of it. She wasn’t the face of it, but Starlight found some records of her involved with some protests saying Vought had something to do with your disappearance.”

Ben looked over at Hughie and listened, “Even when those protests dwindled down over the decades, there’s rumors of Y/N working on articles under some pseudonym asking for the proof of whatever weapon could have killed you when the world knew you were immune to practically everything. No one knows if those articles were ever published or if Vought took them down before she had the chance to get them out into the world. But for a really long time, Y/N always had a hope you were still around.”

Ben couldn’t help but smile to himself. He always wondered if there was a point where you had given up on him, but the confirmation from the runt made something swell in his chest. A part of him still couldn’t believe that you agreed to go with him despite you opposing everything about his mission.

“She’s always been one to combat Vought even before she retired. She never wanted to be a part of Payback when a position was offered to her. But I think it was mostly because they thought I could keep her in line with their expectations. A little spitfire.”

“She means a lot to you… doesn’t she? She told us her relationship with you was a complicated one.” Hughie commented and Ben looked over at the kid yet again before he took a sip of his whisky.

“She wasn’t wrong when she said things were complicated. I knew her before Payback was even a thought.” He admitted.

1945

Ben had just finished up a speech at a banquet for Vought. They were through in a celebration now that the war was over and since he as the one that went into the Eagle’s Nest and helped the war finally meet its demise, Edgar thought it was necessary for him to give a speech. Naturally Ben didn’t really like the wording of any of it but Edgar wasn’t one to hear his complaints.

As Ben finished up and the crowd applauded, he noticed near the back of the crowd, there was a beautiful woman there standing with some average looking loser. You looked like you weren’t exactly happy to be there since your arms were crossed and he wondered what your problem was.

After the applause died down and he left the stage, he walked over to you and the man beside you, “Hey, you two. I don’t think I’ve met either of you before.”

“Oh Soldier Boy. It’s an honor to meet you, Sir. That was a wonderful speech you gave. Thank you for all that you’ve done for this country. We would truly be at a loss without you.” The man said and Ben could see you rolling your eyes at the way the man seemed to be sucking up to him.

“Um, thanks. It’s an honor but the real heroes are the ones that are on the field seeing combat.” Soldier Boy insisted.

“Yes, Sir. Anyway, my name is Oliver Anderson. This is my fiancé Y/N L/N. Mr. Edgar and Liberty asked us to be here. Liberty told Mr. Edgar about Y/N’s abilities and we were told to come tonight with some record of her abilities.” Oliver explained.

“Oh? And what abilities might those be?”

“She has the ability to manipulate the earth at her will. She can cause earthquakes, cause cities to fall, open gaps in the earth, pull up boulders from the ground like mini islands and cause a lot of damage. She’s really something.” Oliver said and Ben chuckled.

“A sweet little angel like you moving pebbles around? That’s sweet.” Ben said, unable to believe that sort of power.

“Another ability I’ve got is to grin and bear arrogant bullshit like that speech of yours.” You finally spoke and Ben was a little stunned at the attitude you gave.

“A little spitfire, aren’t you?”

“Oh Soldier Boy! I see you’ve met Y/N.” Liberty said with a wide smile on her face.

“Isn’t she swell? I think that she could be really great for us if we can just get her to be a part of the agency.” Liberty said and Ben lifted a brow.

“I suppose she could do well enough if she learned to watch her tone. Good luck convincing Edgar to let you in with the attitude issues.”

“Yeah and with the amount of arrogance you’ve got and that big ego, you’re bound to be compensating for something that won’t last that long.”

“Shit… So she wasn’t exactly fond of you, huh?” Hughie asked and Ben shook his head a little, finding it funny if he were completely honest.

“No. But I wasn’t too fond of her either. She acted like she had too much of an issue with Vought’s authority, and my authority. But we were both young and over time things got better and we were more civil. But later on, she seemed to hold me accountable in a way that Countess never did. Now I know why Countess didn’t care. I guess she was adding up the reasons to help them get rid of me in the end.” Ben said.

“So if she wasn’t a part of Payback, how did you get to interact with Quake?”

“Her fiancé wanted her to be a part of the agency, so did Edgar and Liberty. But Quake didn’t want to be in the public eye all the time. So Oliver, the fiancé, settled for some publicity to get her out there because he was out there for the fame and she got a fraction of what Liberty and I made since. Too many conditions and fine print from the negotiation and I don’t really know all the details.”

“What happened to the fiancé? I didn’t hear anything about her getting married.”

“Died three years after Quake started her career as one of Vought’s supes.”

“So what made her hate you a little less?”

Ben tried to think of anything that would have made you change your mind about him. But he knew that he hadn’t changed too much in the time you knew him, so it was hard to tell. “That may be something you ask her yourself kid.”

You went out to your car that you had taken from the house and you grabbed a sweater before you threw it over your head. You hadn’t realized Butcher had exited the hotel room until you heard him walking down the stairs. Just as he was walking to his van, you raised your hand and suddenly, both of his feet were trapped as the asphalt from the road beneath him trapped his feet firmly. He wouldn’t be going anywhere unless you released your grip.

“Oy! What’s the big idea?!”

You walked over to him while he was struggling to break free and you stood right in front of him.

“What’s the deal here, Love? Don’t want me finding those twins for your lover boy?”

You turned your hand up again and the ground that was wrapped around his feet and ankles suddenly released only for a gap to fall in the ground. Butcher fell into the hole and the ground nearly swallowed him up and the only thing left visibly was from his neck up, so you could speak to him.

You squatted down and looked down at him.

“If you, the kid, or any of your little friends try anything funny with Soldier Boy… if any of you even whisper a word about betraying him or take him away again, Homelander will be the very least of your concerns.” You said, voice calm yet cold while your hand slowly formed into a fist as the ground started to squeeze his body.

“Are we clear?”

Butcher was struggling to breathe and it felt like his lungs would be crushed if he didn’t give some kind of response. He wasn’t expecting this on his way out of the hotel. But he nodded nonetheless, “Like crystal.”

With that, you released your grip and the ground spit him up so he could make his way back to the van. Although you could see in his eyes that he knew you were serious. You just hoped Butcher would heed your warning, and that his friends would have better sense than to try anything. You watched him get up and dust himself off as if he were trying to act like nothing happened while he walked over to the van to get in contact with whoever was tracking down the TNT Twins.

Then you decided to go upstairs once more. When you entered the hotel room, you saw Ben watching his old movies on the TV in the middle of some rent about how Bing Crosby was America’s dad. If only he knew… then again, he still had a lot of catching up to do. But when you shut the door, you saw Ben look up at you.

“Where’d you run off to?”

“I was grabbing something from the car.” You said plainly, still a little frustrated about this entire endeavor.

About an hour later, Butcher finally came back.

“Got ‘em. They’re in Vermont.” Butcher said and he held up a GPS, “Got their location right here.”

“Alright! Finally we’ve got some progress.” Ben said and he looked at you, “You ready to suit up?”

You looked up at him and you saw that he really wanted you to come along with him on this. You wished you could support him completely on this trip. You supported Ben wanting his revenge, that was reasonable. You just didn’t want this to be another step towards Butcher and Hughie getting their goal as they treated Soldier Boy just as some sort of weapon for their own advantage against Homelander.

You looked away and at the TV, “I’m retired, remember?”

You figured Ben was rolling his eyes and when you looked over at Butcher and Hughie, they were getting out some vials of green liquid. You lifted a brow and wondered what that could have been but it didn’t really matter much to you. However, while you watched them, you felt a hand on your shoulder and when you looked up, you saw Ben standing there.

“Look, I know you’re retired. I know you hate this whole thing. I’m not asking you to hurt anybody. Just want you to be a part of it with me.” He said in sort of a hushed tone while the other two men were shooting up whatever it was into their bloodstreams.

Letting out a sigh, you let your muscles relax. You thought about it for a moment before finally nodding, “Fine. I’ll go along for the ride. But I’m not getting involved. Especially since we both know what time of year it is.”

“Wait, what time of year is it?” Hughie asked, you hated how curious the kid was about some things, especially the things he shouldn’t know about.

“Herogasm. Those twins picked it up after Soldier Boy was presumed dead. It’s honestly really disgusting.”

“Hey! A little fun never hurt anyone.” Ben tried to defend himself since he was the founder.

“Uh huh… well my point still stands, I’m not going in that building while that mess is going on.” You stated before you picked up Ben’s folded uniform and handed it to him.

“Go suit up.”

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @fanfic-n-tabulous @chriszgirl92 @hobby27 @nancymcl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @capricxnt @k-slla @angelbabyyy99 @david-tennant-obsessed-blog @deangirl96 @mimaria420 @ashdoctor @muhahaha303 @prettyinplaid94

[qfzeeph]

Suprise! You get Zeeph Writings today because I am very sick and thinking about him to keep me sane :3

♡Kaito (Vocaloid) x Reader/Master HCs [3]♡

♡Reader is Sick♡ ♡Kaito is taking care of them!!♡

☆Since he's a weird android-type thing, Kaito doesn't really get sick in the way we do. Which makes him all the more available to take care of you when you fall ill.

☆it doesn't matter what you've got. This man will be by your side until the day you recover, wether that be if you're stuck at home or in the hospital recieving care. (For the sake of this post, reader is mainly going to be ill at home.) ☆He'll happily sleep on the floor when you're too sick to share a bed. He tries to stay close by to you incase you need anything ☆if you DO need anything, he'll do his best to have it right away. Tissues, ginger ale, you name it. ☆Keeping high spirits while you're sick is important. Kaito is really good at making you feel happy even when you're feeling your worst. He'll sing lullabies to you to help you sleep, watch TV with you to make you feel less alone, and even sits on the side of your bed when he can so you can hold his hand. He won't let you feel like you're suffering alone even for a second. ☆Sometimes being sick isn't pretty. Even when you're a disgusting hot mess, he's going to be right by your side to help you clean up. Hell, he'd help you clean yourself up, send you back to bed, and then take on the rest of the cleaning on his own so you can rest. He doesn't care how gross the mess ends up being, because if it's for you it's worth it. ☆Likewise, you have a washing machine. If something gets on the scarf, it gets on the scarf. He understands human illness isn't always just the sniffles and icky things do happen. He isn't going to get mad at you if he gets a little dirty trying to care for you. ☆Kaito tries not to be too clingy while you're sick. He understands that cuddling and hugging and being attached to you at all times is more stressful than comforting when you're not feeling well. He can't wait for you to be back on your feet so he can shower you with affection again. Though, sometimes he can't help himself and leaves little kisses on the top of your hand or forehead. If he's sitting next to your bed, a little hair ruffle means the world to him. ☆The first thing he'll want to do together after you recover completely is either take you to go get ice cream or alternatively your favorite sweet dessert. He'll even pay for it since you deserve a nice treat after all you've gone through. ...so basically, I have the norovirus ;A; it is NOT fun! But thinking about my blue guy makes me feel a little better. I'm cooped up on the couch (I have a loft bed and was having a hard time getting in/out of it) with one of my Kaito plushies to keep me company. As usual, thanks for givin' a read and hope everyone is healthy! ...at least healthier than I am right now :(((