#but then I got a little ways in and was like...but fitz...

[doctorwhoisadhd]

like no hate and consider this a guided reading question and not an accusation but why do you think i mentioned that the fridays never lored fitzgerald massey. might it be related to the fact that this is a Fridays bracket?

[chrrybbmb]

EQUILIBRIUM

STARRING ... SPIDEY!J. JUNGKOOK X READER

WORD COUNT ... 7.5K

SUMMARY ... how long can you pretend not to notice you're falling headfirst?

NOTES/WARNINGS ... slow burn. mutual pining. they’re both falling so hard they need a helmet AKSJASK. reader’s acceptance era. they wanna kiss each other so bad but are too stupid to realise it someone please bonk them on the head. implied spidey!jk fight. she’s a lil bit short but that’s okay things are moving forward!!!

playlist : give you the world (steve lacy). i think (tyler the creator). me gustas tu (manu chao). falling for ya (grace phipps). the feels (twice). out of my league (fitz and the tantrums). more than a woman (the beegees). be my baby (the ronettes). rather be (clean bandit). cupid (fifty fifty).

taglist. prev. next.

he’s been staring at the same sentence in his notes for the past five minutes.

it’s not even a hard one. something about limiting reagents and product yield—stuff he could usually recite without blinking, but you’re sitting right there.

curled into the far side of the library booth, legs tucked under you, pen twirling between your fingers like you’ve likely done a hundred times before. there’s a smudge of blue ink on your thumb and a crumpled piece of gum wrapper on the table between you, and jungkook can’t seem to make his brain work long enough to finish a full thought.

you hum under your breath as you copy down the last equation he walked you through. nod a little to yourself when it clicks.

jungkook has never hated a reaction more.

not because he minds teaching. not because he minds being here. but because he wants to kiss you. he’s been thinking about it more than he should. enough that it’s starting to interfere with things, like memory and rational thought and knowing when to look away.

your lips purse as you underline something. your brow furrows. he looks back at his notes and pretends he didn’t notice.

“you okay?” you say after a moment.

your voice is soft. casual, like you haven’t just dragged him out of a thought spiral that involved your lip gloss and his complete and utter lack of self-control.

he glances up too fast, eyes wide. ��what?”

you blink at him. “you’ve been on the same line for ages. just wondered if you were, i don’t know... buffering.”

a beat, then you grin.

jungkook exhales through his nose and drops his pen. presses the heel of his palm to his temple like that’ll help short-circuit whatever his brain is doing. “i’m fine,” he mutters.

“uh-huh,” you say, clearly not buying it. you nudge the gum wrapper closer to him with the back of your knuckle. “you sure it’s not the limiting reagent that’s got you in a chokehold?”

“positive,” he says. “limiting reagents are easy.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and yet?”

he glares at the sentence in his notebook like it’s personally wronged him, and you laugh under your breath, the sound warm, bright in a way the library doesn’t deserve.

he hates that it makes his stomach flip.

“okay, professor,” you tease. “if you’re done glitching, i have questions.”

he nods slowly, swallowing back everything else he wants to say. “hit me.”

you scoot a little closer, shifting your notebook between you, your leg bumping his under the table. not on purpose, probably, but jungkook flinches anyway. you don’t seem to notice. you’re already flipping back a page and chewing on your bottom lip, scanning your notes.

“this one,” you say, pointing to a messy line halfway down the margin. “the molar ratio part? i think i missed something.”

he leans in before he can stop himself. close enough to see the faint shimmer of your lip balm, the way the library’s overhead lights reflect in your eyes. bad idea. he clears his throat, forcing his eyes back down. “you just have to compare the coefficients from the balanced equation. it’s about how many moles of reactant are required to fully react with the other.”

“right,” you nod, writing as he speaks. “so it’s about proportion?”

“exactly.”

you hum again, more to yourself this time, scribbling in the margin. your handwriting is uneven and fast and a little chaotic, but it makes something in his chest ache anyway.

you’re too close.

he shifts a little, subtly. just enough to give himself space to breathe. because he doesn’t want you to see the way it’s affecting him the way everything you do lately seems to be affecting him. it’s getting bad.

the way you lean into him when you’re focused. the way you smile when you finally understand something. the way you call him ‘professor’ sometimes, like it’s a joke, but he still thinks about it later when he’s brushing his teeth.

you nudge his notebook with your pen. “you’re being quiet again.”

“just thinking.”

you glance at him sideways, a small smile tugging at your lips. “about chemistry?”

he lies. “yeah.”

you laugh. soft and a little disbelieving. “you don’t sound very convincing, you know.”

he shrugs, eyes still on your notes. “i’m not good at this whole… thing.”

“mm. i don’t know.” you twirl your pen again, the ink-stained tip catching a smudge across your palm. “you’ve managed to teach me more in two weeks than i’ve learned all semester. that’s gotta count for something.”

jungkook wants to say thank you. wants to make a dumb joke. wants to reach across the table and take your hand just to see if you’d let him. instead, he stares at the gum wrapper between you. you don’t seem to notice the shift.

“you’re good at it,” you add, quieter this time. “the tutoring thing. i didn’t expect that.”

he raises an eyebrow. “why not?”

you glance at him like it should be obvious. “you don’t really talk. during class, i mean. you kind of just show up, take notes, and disappear.”

he shrugs again. “maybe you just weren’t paying attention.”

your smile falters a little, flickering into something softer. more real. “maybe,” you admit. “but i do now.”

and there’s something in the way you say it that makes his heartbeat stutter and his mouth dry.

you shift again, settling back into your seat. “anyway. i think i get it now.”

he nods, pretending like what you said doesn’t matter to him as much as it does. “good.”

“do i get a gold star?”

he finally smiles, small but genuine. “i’ll bring stickers next time.”

you grin. “i’m holding you to that.”

he’s not sure if you mean it. but he will.

you stretch your arms above your head, spine arching just slightly, a soft groan escaping your throat. jungkook looks away so fast he almost gives himself whiplash.

“we’ve been at this for too long,” you say, voice light, dragging your hands through your hair before letting them fall into your lap. “my brain’s starting to leak out of my ears.”

he huffs a laugh, flipping your notebook closed. “sure. break time.”

“thank god,” you sigh, slumping dramatically against the back of the booth. “i was two problems away from crying.”

“you’ve cried over chemistry before?”

“once,” you say, lifting your fingers to make a tiny gap between your thumb and forefinger. “just a little. like a respectable amount.”

he grins. “respectable tears?”

“very academic,” you nod solemnly. “phd-level sobbing.”

you’re joking, but your smile is tired in a way that makes his chest tug. he wonders how much sleep you’ve been getting. how often you let yourself take breaks when he’s not the one insisting. he doesn’t ask.

instead, he pushes the textbooks aside. “what do you usually do during breaks?” he asks, half teasing, half genuinely curious.

you blink at him, clearly not expecting him to ask. “usually?” you say. “scroll. draw. steal other people’s snacks. the essentials.”

jungkook hums, amused. “should i be worried?”

“only if you brought anything worth stealing.”

he reaches into his bag, pulls out a granola bar, and slides it across the table.

you gasp. “an offering?”

“a peace treaty,” he says. “in case you cry again.”

you laugh, peeling back the wrapper, and something in his chest unwinds. “this’ll buy you fifteen more minutes of tutoring,” you say through a mouthful of granola. “maybe twenty if you pretend i’m doing better than i am.”

“you’re doing fine,” he says before he can stop himself.

you glance up at him. blink once. then you smile, and it’s not playful—not teasing or smug or exaggerated. it’s quiet. sincere. “thanks,” you say softly. “i’ve been trying.”

jungkook swallows. nods. looks down at his hands just so he doesn’t have to look at you.

you chew slowly, shoulders relaxing against the booth.

“i kind of like studying with you,” you say after a minute, not even realizing what you’re doing to him.

his throat is suddenly too dry. “yeah?”

you nod. “you’re patient. and you explain things better than my professors do. and you always bring snacks.”

“only brought one.”

“you’ve brought others before.”

he snorts under his breath. “you keep track?”

you shrug. “when you’ve got as many things on your mind as i do, it’s nice when something’s consistent.”

and god, he wants to say something. to tell you he’d bring you granola bars every day for the rest of the semester. to ask if he’s allowed to be one of the things you count on. but instead, he picks at the edge of his textbook and says, “i’ll bring two next time.”

you grin. “spoiling me.”

he shrugs, pretending it’s casual. “you deserve it.”

you look at him for a second—really look at him, eyes soft, head tilted just slightly, trying to figure him out. then, just as quickly, the moment shifts. you smile again, all light and teasing. “if you keep saying stuff like that, i’m gonna start thinking you like me.”

you say it like a joke, like it’s nothing. like it’s funny.

and maybe it is to you. maybe you’re just playing around. maybe you don’t see the way his hands curl into fists in his lap, or how he forgets how to breathe for half a second.

he laughs. too late, too forced.

“yeah, well,” he says, eyes fixed on a scratch in the table. “can’t have that.”

you don’t respond right away. you just pick at the corner of your granola bar wrapper, folding it neatly in half.

“mm,” you say finally, like you’ve filed that away somewhere. “would ruin the academic integrity of this tutoring relationship.”

he nods. “exactly.”

another beat passes. you lean your cheek against your hand, watching him with something unreadable in your expression. “guess i’ll just have to keep wondering, then.”

and before he can figure out what that means, or if you meant anything at all, you’re reaching for your notes again.

“alright, professor,” you say lightly. “break’s over. teach me something.”

jungkook picks up his pen with shaking fingers. he doesn’t say a word.

you’re already flipped to a fresh page, pen tapping against the paper as you glance at him, waiting. expecting. jungkook clears his throat and tries to focus. tries to remember what you were working on before you smiled at him in a way that made it hard to breathe.

"okay," he says eventually, voice quieter than usual. “uh. equilibrium constants.”

you nod, jotting down the title at the top of the page.

his hands are still shaking. he doesn’t think you notice. you lean in a little, not quite touching, but close enough to make his skin prickle. "so," you murmur, pen at the ready, "what’s the deal with k?”

and god.

you’re doing it on purpose. or maybe you’re not. maybe this is just how you are—curious, warm, bright in a way that doesn’t burn but still somehow sets him on fire.

he exhales slowly through his nose.

"it’s a ratio," he starts, keeping his eyes on your notebook instead of your face. "products over reactants. a way to measure if a reaction favors the left or the right.”

you hum under your breath. “and what if it favors neither?”

he lets himself glance at you then, just briefly. “then it’s balanced,” he says.

you meet his gaze, smile tugging at your lips. “sounds ideal.”

jungkook looks away. he’s never wanted anything more than he wants to kiss you right now. he doesn’t let the thought linger. it’s dangerous—too loud, too close to the surface. he presses the tip of his pen to your notebook instead, draws a quick diagram, lets the movement steady his hands.

"see how the concentrations shift?" he says, voice even, like his pulse isn’t hammering in his throat.

you lean forward again, shoulder brushing his just barely.

"so when k is greater than one..." you murmur.

"it means the products are favored."

you nod, scribbling it down, brow furrowed in concentration.

and jungkook clings to that. your focus, your curiosity, the way you chew your lip when you're thinking hard. if he lets himself look at you for too long, he knows he won’t be able to look away.

and if he lets himself feel everything he’s feeling, really feel it, he might never stop.

he watches you write, lets the silence stretch just long enough to steady himself. then “okay,” he says softly. “your turn.”

you glance up, pen pausing mid-stroke.

“what does it mean when a reaction is at equilibrium?”

your brow furrows, eyes flicking between his face and the sketch of the reaction chart on your page. he waits.

you tap the end of your pen against the paper, thoughtful. “it means… the rate of the forward reaction equals the rate of the reverse?”

when he nods, you continue, voice more confident now. “that the concentrations stop changing. not because the reaction stops, but because everything’s happening at the same time, in both directions.”

he smiles, and it’s small, but it’s real. “exactly.”

you grin, wide and a little proud, and his heart goes stupid in his chest.

“see?” you say, nudging his elbow with yours. “i am learning.”

“you’re a model student,” he says, just to hear you laugh again.

you do. soft and sudden. the kind of sound that makes him feel weightless.

you go back to your notes, but jungkook doesn’t move right away. he keeps his eyes on the margin of your page, watching your pen move.

equilibrium.

forward and reverse, happening at once. equal effort. equal weight. it sounds simple in theory.

he wishes it were. he wishes he was brave enough to just be honest with you about how he feels, to say it plainly. without stumbling, without second-guessing, without hiding behind chemistry terms and granola bars and excuses that sound a lot like maybe next time.

he wants to tell you that he thinks about you more than he should. that every time you smile at him, it takes him a second too long to recover. but instead he points to the next problem in your textbook. “you wanna try this one on your own?”

you glance at it, then at him, then back at your notes.

“sure,” you say, and your voice is casual, but the corners of your mouth curve just enough to undo him all over again.

you start working through the equation, mumbling under your breath, pen tapping as you go, and jungkook watches. he doesn’t say what he wants to. he doesn’t risk it. not yet.

you furrow your brow at the middle of the problem, chewing on your pen cap while your eyes scan the numbers. “wait,” you mutter, pointing to the molar ratio. “isn’t it supposed to be three to two here?”

“yeah,” he says, quiet. “good catch.”

you grin, triumphant, scribbling something onto the page. he looks away again, smile threatening the edges of his mouth.

god. he’s so gone.

completely, utterly, irreversibly.

you don’t even know. you’re just here, sharing your notebook, offering up pieces of yourself so easily it’s like you don’t think twice. he wishes he could match you in that. be just as open, just as brave.

“what?” you ask suddenly, glancing over at him. “you’re staring.”

“no, i’m not,” he says, and it’s instant, reflexive.

you raise a brow. “you kinda were.”

he clears his throat. “i was just… surprised. you’re getting good at this.”

you smile, a little bashful. “guess i’ve got a decent tutor.”

jungkook looks at your face, the way you’re trying to hide how proud you are. he wants to reach out.

he doesn’t.

“you’re not so bad yourself,” he says instead, voice low.

your eyes linger on him a beat too long. and then you look down again, flipping to a new page.

his heart doesn’t slow down for the rest of the hour.

jungkook winces as jimin dabs at his cheek with a sting-soaked cotton pad.

"jesus," jimin mutters under his breath, voice tight with irritation. "you need to stop letting public transit rearrange your face."

“i’m fine,” jungkook grits out, though the words come slower than he means for them to. his head’s still spinning, just a little. he blinks hard, trying to clear it.

jimin pulls back, eyes narrowing. “uh-huh. and i’m the queen of england.” he swipes at a dried streak of blood along jungkook’s jaw, a little less gently this time.

jungkook flinches, shoulders curling in. “i don’t have a concussion.”

“right.” jimin scoffs, tossing the cotton pad into the trash. “because when a ten-ton hunk of steel smacks you into a goddamn billboard, the first thing you think is thank god my brain’s still in one piece.”

jungkook sighs, leaning back against the couch, one hand dragging down his face. he hates this part, the aftermath. when the adrenaline’s gone and everything hurts and the city’s quiet again and jimin’s looking at him like he’s one bad landing away from being a memory.

“you should’ve gone to the ER,” jimin mutters, disinfectant in one hand, gauze in the other.

“they ask too many questions.”

“they ask questions so you don’t die, genius.”

“you’re patching me up anyway,” jungkook mumbles, gesturing vaguely to the half-open first aid kit on the coffee table. jimin doesn’t answer right away. just presses the gauze to the cut on his temple a little more firmly than necessary.

jungkook hisses.

“you’re an idiot,” jimin says, quiet.

“i know.”

he does. he knows.

jungkook closes his eyes for a second, lets the pressure of jimin’s hand ground him. the sting, the scent of antiseptic, the soft buzz of a heater kicking on somewhere in the apartment.

he’d thought about going to you. when he was dragging himself out of the alley, ribs screaming, blood sticky down the side of his face, your apartment flashed across his mind. a quiet thought, tucked into the corner of the chaos.

she’d open the door.

she’d help.

she always does.

even in his addled state, he knew it was a bad idea. stupid. selfish even.

as much as he’d enjoyed it last time—being there, letting you fuss over him, hearing your voice up close, feeling your fingers skim his cheek like he was something fragile—it wasn’t something he could get used to.

not when you didn’t know who he was. not really.

“you zoning out on me?” jimin asks, tone clipped.

jungkook blinks his eyes open again. “no.”

jimin doesn’t buy it. he never does.

“you sure? ‘cause your pupils look two different sizes and you haven’t blinked in thirty seconds.”

jungkook exhales a dry laugh. “just thinking.”

“dangerous,” jimin mutters, tossing the bloodied gauze aside and grabbing clean bandages. “next time, don’t think. just duck.”

“tried.”

“try harder.”

he doesn’t mean to sound harsh. jimin never does, not really, but there’s a tremble underneath it. fear, maybe. and jungkook doesn’t have the heart to brush that off. not tonight. not after the way his own legs gave out two blocks from the fight, not after the taste of copper and pavement still lingers in his mouth.

so he just nods and lets jimin tape him back together again in silence.

jimin’s quiet for a while after that. he works the way he always does when he’s trying not to feel something. quick, precise, hands steady even when his breathing isn’t. jungkook watches the ceiling, eyes unfocused. the room spins a little when he turns his head, so he doesn’t.

“you’ve gotta slow down,” jimin says eventually, voice low.

jungkook hums. “can’t.”

jimin’s fingers still against the side of his face.

“why not?”

jungkook doesn’t answer right away. he could say it’s the city. the people who need help. the guilt that chews at his ribs when he thinks about what would happen if he just stopped.

but none of that is what comes out.

“she was there,” he says quietly.

jimin freezes. “when?”

“before the fight,” jungkook mumbles. “at her mural. painting.” he swallows. “she didn’t see me. i didn’t stay.”

jimin sighs, sits back on his heels, eyeing him carefully. “you shouldn’t keep doing this.”

jungkook blinks. “doing what?”

“using the mask as an excuse to orbit her,” jimin says flatly. “you’re not doing her any favors. and you’re definitely not doing you any favors either.”

jungkook looks away, jaw tight. “i’m not trying to mess with her,” he says. “i just… i don’t know. i miss her.”

“you see her,” jimin says. “you tutor her. you sit across from her in cafes and make a fool of yourself in front of her every week.”

“it’s not the same,” jungkook mutters.

“no,” jimin agrees. “because at least when you’re you, you’re not lying to her face.”

the silence that follows is heavier than anything else.

jimin doesn’t push. just leans back against the couch, pulls his knees up, and runs a hand through his hair with a sigh that sounds way too tired for how young they are. the room is quiet again, save for the low hum of traffic outside and the soft groan of jimin’s air conditioner in the background.

jimin exhales through his nose, slow and tired. he presses the last strip of tape to jungkook’s temple, then drops the empty wrapper onto the table with a quiet crinkle.

“you’re lucky you didn’t black out,” he says. “again.”

jungkook doesn’t respond. just leans back into the couch, arm slung over his eyes. he’s so tired. not just in his body. not just the bruises, or the cuts, or the ache in his shoulder that still hasn’t gone away from last week’s rooftop landing. it’s in his chest.

the constant push and pull of being two people. the version of him who makes you laugh across tables, and the one who swings past your apartment in the middle of the night just to see if your lights are on.

the one you know.

the one you don’t.

“you should tell her,” jimin says eventually. “before it gets worse.”

jungkook drops his arm, looks at him with tired eyes. “tell her what, hyung? hey, i’m your tutor and the idiot who bled on your furniture that one time. surprise?”

jimin just shrugs. “sounds about right.”

“she’ll hate me.”

“she might.” jimin doesn’t sugarcoat it. “but she also might not.”

jungkook swallows hard.

he’s thought about it. a hundred different ways. a thousand different outcomes. and in every one, you look at him differently after. sometimes with betrayal. sometimes with disbelief. sometimes you don’t look at him at all, and that’s the part that scares him most.

he scrubs a hand down his face and groans. “i can’t. not yet.”

jimin watches him for a beat, then nods.

“then don’t wait too long,” he says. “because if she finds out on her own, it’s gonna hurt worse.”

jungkook doesn’t say anything, because deep down, he knows jimin’s right. that’s what scares him second most.

you stare down at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen.

here early, grabbed a table near the back x

sent fifteen minutes ago.

you sigh and lock your phone, flipping it face down on the table.

the cafe is warm. quieter than usual, save for the low hum of an indie playlist and the hiss of the espresso machine behind the counter. your untouched drink sits beside your notebook, still steaming. you haven’t taken a sip.

you know jungkook’s probably caught in traffic. or maybe the bus was late. maybe something came up. maybe he’s just having one of those days. but your brain doesn’t care about reason. it cares that he was the one who asked to move the session earlier this week. said he couldn’t do the weekend.

so you cleared your schedule. shifted your plans. you told taehyung no, you told yourself it was fine, you told yourself you weren’t too excited when he sent the text.

and now here you are.

alone in a corner booth with your highlighters lined up in color order and your thoughts spiraling at full speed.

you try not to take it personally, and you fail. your mind jumps straight to that place you hate—what if he forgot? what if he bailed? what if he’s slowly realizing he doesn’t actually like being around you at all? you exhale, sharp and quiet.

then the bell above the door jingles, and jungkook stumbles in, breathless and disheveled, hoodie askew and cheeks flushed pink from the cold. his hair is a mess, and his backpack looks half-zipped, and there’s a coffee stain on the cuff of his sleeve.

he spots you instantly and his shoulders sag in relief. “hey…” he pants as he approaches, breath visible in the air behind him, “sorry. i’m so sorry.”

you blink, and despite every insecure thought you were stewing in two seconds ago, your chest loosens just a little.

“…you okay?” you ask, voice quieter than you mean for it to be.

he nods quickly, dropping his bag onto the seat across from you. “yeah. yeah. just—” he pulls his hood back, raking a hand through his hair, “—bit of a mess getting here. totally my fault. i should’ve texted.”

you shake your head, forcing a small smile. “you’re here now.”

he meets your eyes, sheepish.

“still,” he says, tugging at the sleeve of his hoodie like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, “thanks for waiting.”

you shrug, flipping open your notebook. “you owe me a sticker for it.”

he exhales a laugh. “i brought two sheets.”

you lean back in your seat, watching him dig through his bag, fingers fumbling for his notes or maybe a pen or maybe just something to distract from how flustered he is. he finally pulls out his notebook, slaps it onto the table, and exhales like he’s just run a marathon.

“you didn’t have to sprint here,” you murmur, reaching for your drink at last. “i would’ve waited.”

he smiles, boyish, still a little breathless.

“i did make you wait,” he says. “felt bad.”

you’re about to wave it off when you notice just the faintest smudge. barely there, high on the edge of his nostril, a smear of red that’s mostly faded but not invisible. your brows draw together.

“hey.”

he looks up. “hm?”

you reach into your pocket for a tissue and slide it across the table. “you’ve got—” you motion to your own nose, eyes narrowing. “what happened?”

he falters just for a second. his hand lifts instinctively, brushing at the spot with the back of his knuckle before glancing at the tissue and taking it.

“oh. must’ve been from earlier.”

you stare. “earlier?”

“yeah, it’s nothing,” he says quickly, too quickly. “i get nosebleeds sometimes. weather shift, i guess.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it. just dabs once, then folds the tissue and tucks it under his notebook like it never existed. you don’t believe him, but you don’t push, either. “…you sure?”

he nods. “promise.”

and it sounds certain enough that you don’t press, even as something unsettles deep in your stomach. instead, you flip open your own notes and reach for a pen.

“fine,” you say softly. “but if you pass out mid-equation, i’m not catching you.”

he huffs a laugh, and it sounds a little more real this time. “deal.”

you pretend to scan your notes, pen tapping idly, but your eyes drift. jungkook’s hunched forward, elbows on the table, scribbling something in the corner of his page. his hair’s a mess, long and black and tangled from either wind or movement or both, curling at the ends where it brushes his hoodie. there’s a little patch that won’t fall the right way, hanging stubbornly across his forehead.

and then there’s the glasses.

you haven’t seen him wear them before. they sit low on his nose, slipping a little every time he shifts, catching the light and reflecting it just enough to make you pause. you don’t mean to stare, but you do until he looks up and catches your gaze head-on.

“…do i have something else on my face?” he asks, cautious.

you blink. hard.

“what? no.” you shake your head, a little too fast. “no. i was just… thinking.”

his brow lifts slightly. “about what?”

you scramble for anything but you look really good like this and i can’t stop looking at you.

you flick your pen toward the table. “i was wondering why we met here instead of the library.”

he blinks, then ducks his head, pushing his glasses up with his knuckle, suddenly shy. “oh. um. the café’s closer to where i live.”

you nod slowly, biting back a smile. “huh.” you tilt your head. “so you dragged me across town for your own convenience?”

“not dragged,” he says, a little defensively. “i picked a place with good coffee.”

you raise your brow and he shrinks just slightly in his seat.

“and you said you didn’t mind,” he adds, quieter.

you don’t. you really don’t. but you’re not about to let him off that easy.

“mm. you’re lucky the coffee is good.”

he grins, soft and crooked.

“i am lucky.”

he doesn’t know what he’s saying. what it’s doing to you.

you don’t trust your voice enough to respond, so you flip to the next page of your notes and hope he can’t hear your heartbeat from across the table.

he, for his part, doesn’t say anything else. just ducks his head again, hair falling even further into his face as he pushes up his glasses with one finger. your eyes follow the movement before you can stop yourself.

it’s almost unfair. how soft he looks like this.

you draw a slow breath, steadying yourself before you speak.

“alright, professor,” you murmur, aiming for light. “you’ve got me at a café. impress me.”

he huffs a laugh, head still bowed.

“no pressure or anything,” he mumbles, flipping to a page of problem sets.

you lean your chin into your hand, elbow propped against the table. “you’re the one who insisted on the earlier session.”

“and i stand by it,” he says, voice warming again. “even if i almost died trying to get here.”

“do you always get nosebleeds when you're rushing to meet girls?”

he pauses mid-scribble. you see the smile tug at the corner of his mouth before he tries to hide it.

“only the pretty ones,” he says, barely above a whisper.

your breath catches. just for a second, just long enough to feel it, sharp and hot in your chest. you glance down at your notebook, heart thudding.

you don’t know what to say to that, so you don’t say anything.

your fingers freeze over the spiral of your notebook, eyes trained on a random line of notes that suddenly means nothing to you.

across from you, jungkook goes still, turning red. not just a faint dusting across his cheeks. full-on, unmistakable, spreading fast across his face and up to the tips of his ears. he ducks his head, hiding behind the curtain of his hair like he’s trying to disappear into it, lips pressing together in a tight, horrified line.

you’re not sure either of you can believe he just said that.

he thinks you’re pretty, he thinks you’re pretty, he thinks you’re pretty. it plays on loop in your brain, each echo a little more dizzying than the last. your heart skips and stumbles all over itself, half stuck on the words and half on the fact that he meant them. he must’ve meant them.

jungkook coughs into his hand, trying to recover. “i.. uh. sorry,” he mutters, still not looking up. “that was—i was joking.”

“bad joke,” you say quietly, eyes still on your page.

he exhales a shaky breath. “yeah.”

neither of you look up. neither of you move.

the silence stretches. not awkward. not exactly. just charged.

you pretend to read your notes, pen tapping against the margin, heartbeat thudding loud enough that it might as well be on the table between you. jungkook still hasn’t looked up.

you steal a glance at him.

his hair’s fallen further into his face, half hiding the flush that still stains his cheeks. his fingers are clenched around his pen, knuckles pale, foot bouncing under the table in a restless rhythm.

he’s panicking*.*

not outwardly—he’s too quiet for that. too soft. but it’s there. in the way his eyes stay fixed on the same spot in his notebook, in the way his throat moves when he swallows. and for some reason, the realization makes your chest squeeze.

you almost tell him it’s okay. almost say, you don’t have to be sorry. i didn’t mind it. i’m still thinking about it.

but then he shifts, shoulders squaring, and finally meets your eyes.

“can we pretend i didn’t say that?” he asks, voice low. he says it with a forced little smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

and maybe that’s what makes your decision for you. you look at him for a second longer, then nod once. “sure,” you say, and it comes out smoother than you expect. “you didn’t say anything.”

jungkook exhales through his nose, relief barely veiling the disappointment that flickers across his face.

you both go back to your notes, but neither of you turn the page.

the apartment is quiet when jungkook gets in. the door clicks shut behind him, soft in the silence, but it still makes him flinch. he toes off his shoes, drops his bag by the door, jacket halfway off before he even makes it to the couch. when he does he sinks down hard, palms dragging over his face.

“fuck,” he mutters into his hands.

he’s still rattled.

still replaying the way you looked at him right after—head tilted, eyes wide, something unreadable passing over your face like you were trying to decide if you’d actually heard him right.

only the pretty ones.

the words hit like a sucker punch even now.

he hadn’t meant to say it. hadn’t planned to. hadn’t even realized it was hovering on the tip of his tongue until it was already out there between you, hanging in the air, sticky and impossible to ignore.

you went quiet. you let him backpedal. let him pretend it was a joke, let him erase it even though he wanted nothing more for you to know how pretty you are to him. he leans back into the couch, head tipping against the cushions, and he closes his eyes.

the quiet is louder than it should be.

no city noise, no music, no jimin yelling at him to put ice on something or to stop being so obvious whenever your name comes up. just the echo of that one second. that one look.

you didn’t smile, didn’t tease. you looked stunned. and jungkook can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that he said it, or the fact that some part of him wants to say it again and again until you believe it, until you say something back.

he exhales, long and shaky, and scrubs a hand through his hair. he’s so far in it he doesn’t know how to claw his way out.

he’s not even sure he wants to.

you’re supposed to be paying attention.

there’s something about classical conditioning echoing through the lecture hall speakers. something about pavlov, about dogs and bells and salivating, but your pen is too busy trailing along the edge of your notebook, filling the margins with half-formed flowers and a lopsided spider.

you try to focus. really, you do. you nod when the professor emphasizes a point, scribble a keyword or two, underline extinction twice. but then your eyes drift. out the window, across the aisle, down to the corner of your desk where you’ve already drawn the same sleepy-looking face three different times.

and somehow, every version of it ends up looking a little like him.

you bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head, as if that’ll snap you out of it.

it’s just been happening more often lately—this thing where your thoughts spiral without warning. one second you’re zoning out mid-lecture, and the next you’re remembering the way his fingers brushed yours last week at least three different times.

your professor clicks to the next slide, and the class collectively shifts to pretend they’re still with him.

you sigh, resting your chin on your hand. you don’t mean to get so distracted. but it’s hard not to, when every other thought seems to circle back to the same person.

stupid.

you draw another web in the corner of the page. smaller this time. neater. you don’t know what you’re waiting for. but something in your chest keeps tugging like you’re supposed to be paying attention to something else entirely.

you tap your pen against the edge of your desk. once, twice. again.

“focus,” you mumble to yourself, but it’s useless.

your mind’s already gone, drifting somewhere else entirely—back to the café, which shouldn’t feel as significant as it does, where jungkook stumbled in late, glasses slipping down his nose, hair a mess, breathless and apologetic and still unfairly handsome. back to the night even further back when spider-man nearly collapsed onto your living room floor.

you press the pen harder.

jungkook, spider-man.

one sitting next to you with messy hair and nervous hands, the other bleeding on your couch with too much weight on your shoulder. neither of them probably thinking about you right now.

you don’t even know why that stings.

you’re not dating jungkook. spider-man’s not your friend. you’re just someone who needs help in chemistry. someone who opened her door because someone looked like they were going to fall apart.

you sigh, draw another line across the page. your flowers are losing their shape.

maybe it’d be easier if your chest didn’t feel so tight every time you thought about either of them. you wonder what that says about you. you wonder what that says about them.

your professor says something about freud. you hear someone snicker near the back. you don’t laugh. you just stare down at the little spider in the corner of your page, and trace the thread it’s dangling from. the line stretches up toward the edge of the page, thin and a little shaky.

your pen pauses. you wonder if you’re doing the same thing—hanging off something delicate and invisible, waiting for it to pull or snap or hold.

your professor’s voice drones on, something about repression now. the subconscious. emotional imprinting.

you huff under your breath. “great timing.”

the girl in front of you glances back, but you don’t bother explaining.

your hand shifts again, pen back to work. you draw another figure next to the spider. smaller. a blur of curls and oversized sleeves. he’d probably laugh if he saw it. or tilt his head in that curious way he does when you’re speaking and he wants to say something but doesn’t.

jungkook’s always holding something back. you wonder how much of it is hiding, and how much of it is habit. you shake the thought away before it can settle too deep, scribble a lazy border around your newest doodle to distract yourself.

you’re being emotional. a tad dramatic. maybe it’s just the weather. or the exhaustion. or the fact that every time jungkook smiles at you, it feels like your ribs are curling in on themselves.

you press your pen down until the tip almost snaps. whatever it is, it needs to stop. you’re not built for this kind of uncertainty. you never have been.

you don’t remember the last ten minutes of lecture.

the lights flick on, and the room starts moving before your brain catches up. notebooks close, zippers hum, someone’s already halfway down the stairs before the professor even says have a good weekend.

you sigh, stuff your notes into your bag, ignore the half-page of doodles that somehow ended with a cracked spiderweb and a boy curled up at the center of it. your legs ache as you shuffle out into the hallway, pulled along by the current of students flooding toward the exits.

taehyung finds you near the vending machines, all slouched posture and too-long sleeves.

“there she is,” he says, popping a piece of gum into his mouth without offering you any. “my favorite academically struggling genius.”

you shoot him a look. “what’s with the weird greeting?”

“you’ve got your crisis face on,” he says, tapping his temple. “it’s very i’m thinking too hard about boys again, so i figured i’d meet you halfway.”

you scoff. “i’m not thinking about boys.”

taehyung squints. “okay, so which boy, then?”

you groan, dragging a hand down your face.

he lifts his brows, smug. “that’s what i thought.”

you push open the building doors and step out into the cold, the wind catching your sleeves and snapping at your legs. “it’s not like that,” you mutter.

“you always say that when it’s exactly like that.”

you glare at him. “are you going to walk me to my next class or just psychoanalyze me until i melt into the sidewalk?”

“i can multitask,” taehyung grins, pulling his hood up as he falls into step beside you. “so, is it the covalent cutie or your friendly neighborhood rebound?”

you blink. “excuse me?”

“nothing.” he stretches his arms behind his head, all faux innocence. “just wondering how many men you’re collecting this semester.” you bump your shoulder into his, harder than necessary, and taehyung wheezes and laughs. “god, you’re so defensive when you’re in denial.”

you don’t respond. mostly because he’s right.

taehyung shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, lips pursed in mock thought. “so, there’s gonna be a party friday,” he says casually.

you glance at him, unimpressed. “cool. have fun.”

he snorts. “you’re not even gonna pretend to consider it?”

“nope.”

“rude.”

“you invited me like you were ordering takeout,” you say, stepping over a crack in the pavement. “not exactly persuasive.”

“fine.” he sighs dramatically. “you, my beloved friend, are cordially invited to a moderately chaotic social gathering where someone’s bound to cry in the bathtub, and no less than three people will make out in the kitchen.”

you lift an eyebrow. “tempting.”

“right? i’m selling this.”

“still no.”

he pouts. “why not?”

you shrug. “i’ve got stuff to do.”

“you always have stuff to do.”

you don’t respond right away. you just keep walking, eyes fixed on the cracks in the sidewalk, the wind pulling at the hem of your shirt. taehyung sighs again, quieter this time.

“you know,” he says, bumping your arm lightly with his. “you’re allowed to take a break. have a drink. forget about whatever mess is chewing you up for a couple hours.”

you chew on the inside of your cheek.

you know he’s right. you just don’t know how to say it doesn’t really help when the mess comes with a charming smile and really cute doe eyes and the prettiest lips you’ve ever seen.

so you shrug again. “maybe next time.” taehyung groans dramatically, flopping his head back as you both walk. “you are so stubborn.”

“thanks.”

“that wasn’t a compliment.”

you snort. “sure it wasn’t.”

he glances sideways at you, lips pursed. plotting. calculating.

“okay,” he says finally. “what if i told you it’s not just any party?”

you raise a brow. “is this where you tell me it’s a secret underground masquerade with a five-star buffet?”

“no,” he says, deadpan. “but there will be snacks. and possibly jello shots. and—” he pauses for effect, wagging his eyebrows, “your chemistry tutor might be there.”

you blink. “jungkook?”

taehyung shrugs, faking nonchalance. “could be. dunno. hoseok’s throwing it, and i know they’re tight. might swing by.”

your stomach does something stupid. you look away before taehyung can see it. “that’s not a reason to go.”

“oh, it’s definitely a reason.”

“tae—”

“look,” he says, gentler this time. “you’ve been tense for weeks. you deserve, like, two hours of being normal. you don’t have to dance on the table or hook up with anyone. just show up. breathe. hang out.”

you slow your steps. you hate that he’s making sense. you hate that the idea of maybe running into jungkook makes your chest tighten in a way you refuse to examine too closely.

you sigh. “fine.”

taehyung beams. “yes*.* victory.”

“don’t make it weird.”

“no promises.”

you shake your head, but you’re smiling when he throws an arm around your shoulders, loud and smug and already gloating. you pretend to be annoyed.

you pretend it’s not already the only thing you’re going to think about for the rest of the day.

taglist : @rpwprpwprpwprw @haru-jiminn @glossdebut @mimi1097 @angellekookie @yooniivrse @knivesdoingcartwheels @annyeongbitch7 @hemmosfear

[vspin]

On Act 3 and the lack of companion reactivity and dialogue.

So, I officially hit 400 hours on BG3 yesterday (no lifing it lmao) and I've been thinking about some things I wish Larian would improve or wish that they had implemented. A big thing that comes to mind is how much companion reactivity and dialogue abruptly stops in Act 3.

Act 1 really shines with companion reactivity. They always have something to say to the MC, to NPCs, or even to each other! I love the interaction after you use your ilithid powers for the first time and it's a 4 way conversation between everyone.

Then we get to Act 3 and there's such huge drop-off. Some big offenses:

Very little reaction to quests and locations. When I killed Raphael I only got comments from Astarion and Gale! Seriously?? We just survived a trip to the Hells! This happens with multiple quests

Blank faces when Durge is killed by Bhaal.

Camp is lifeless. Everyone just stands in front of their bed, There are no interactions.

In my playthrough, the Emporer admitted to my Tav he was manipulating her and didn't really care. It was bummer I couldn't talk to the other tadpole gang about it.

I remember coming across a Druid in the city. He was trying to heal a tree. So I went back and grabbed Halsin because he was complaining no one in the city cared about nature or balance. So I thought surely, he would have an interaction here! Nope, nothing!

As soon as you finish a companion's personal quest that is basically the end of your interactions with them; even if you romance them.

What I'd like to see: (Disclaimer: Just my opinions. I have no expectation of any of this being added to the game)

More camp interaction between companions. Jahiera and Minsc had a great example of this. Let there be a quick cutscene of Minsc and Halsin arm wrestling. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion drinking wine. Anything. DA:I did a great job at this. It seemed like anytime I approached someone for dialogue they were in the middle of an interaction with someone else. Or events like the card game. It brought a lot of life into the party.

More random city encounters. They did a good job with Karlach; she has interactions with the steel watcher and her friend Fitz. Would have been cool to have some of those with Wyll, maybe he meets another noble or a flaming fist and has to deal with their shock of seeing him as a devil. Or with Gale in Sorcerous Sundries (he is a famous wizard after all!). Astarion mentions he needs to keep a low profile in the taverns; what if someone called him out!

More reactions to story events.

Expand on romances a bit more. We don't need it to be a dating sim but if you finish your LI's quest early on get used to just asking for small pecks and that's it. I would like to see more romance-specific dialogue for quest reactions.

And Finally:

We needed all companions at the final battle. Everyone should have been at the main keep before confronting the brain. You should have had your final conversations with them before you all potentially die in battle. DA:O style. A passionate kiss with your LI (not a tiny little peck lmao). This was a huge exclusion.

Anyway, these are my thoughts on the matter. Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[izzi-illustrates]

I have become more insane: I've extended the Farseer family tree up to the end of The Tawny Man trilogy.

(original version here)

It got a wee bit messy; design choices and spoilers below the cut.

PHEW.

First: Dutiful came out looking both like Fitz and Kettricken, but also a little like Regal, which was an unexpected but not unwanted development. Dutiful's parentage is muddier and more complicated than I've drawn it (this being an "official" family tree) but since I personally feel Verity is Dutiful's father in ways that matter more to me, I made sure he had Verity's nose - the Farseer nose - and his big dark eyes.

I spent longer on Elliania, drawing from archival photographs of young inuit women, and deliberately using cooler browns for her hair and skin than the warmer Farseer colouring to distinguish her. The Farseers are distantly related to the Outislanders, but they've also intermingled for generations with other Duchy folk, and I wanted to distinguish Elliania's look and style significantly enough that she'd stand out; I think I succeeded.

And then there's Molly's marriage to Burrich... Burrich is such an important character to me personally, and his connection to King-in-Waiting Chivalry so important to the story, (with his raising of Nettle also being key to the story) that it felt wrong not to include him, and his and Molly's sons, in this tree, even if they're none of them Farseers.

I had fun thinking about who would take more after Burrich or more after Molly, and settled on most of the boys taking strongly after Burrich, with Chiv being the most like his father in looks (down to being in the process of growing his hair out in baby locs), the twins having the greatest mix of both parents, but all the boys having Molly's hairline, even if their curl texture isn't hers. I gave Just her hair colour because I don't care that red hair is a recessive gene; this is fantasy and I'm having fun. I also gave Nettle her mother's "surname" (since Nettle remarks that her mother wants her to learn her trade) and the boys are all Burrichson except Swift, who chooses to go by Swift Witted for most of his book appearances so far.*

Nettle is as clean a combination of Molly and Fitz as I could make, taking after her mother in colouring and brows, but taking after Fitz in her chin and eyes. I also deliberately gave her Chivalry's nose, since Fitz's is the product of a severe break.

*If I make a further family tree up to the end of The Fitz and The Fool trilogy, I'll probably name Nettle as Nettle Skillmistress or Nettle Farseer. Similarly, I named Hap as Mishap Badgerlockson, but he'd be Hap Gladheart by the end of the RotE series.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

The Return

(Follow up to the The Dream)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes (a hint of Stucky x reader)

Summary: Will 513 find her way home?

Warnings: Mentions of readers death / being missing in action in another multiverse, multiverse travel (if that's a warning???)

Follow up to The Dream. As request by @obsessedlilqueen

Reader in this insert is 513 Y/N.

"So your answer was to go to another universe and take their Y/N? And what? Destroy their lives instead?" Steve yelled.

"Look, we were looking at all options. You heard Strange. She's meant to be here. Yes, we looked at taking somewhere else's Y/N, and yes, we may have poked around and 616 may have found out. But she said they weren't together. You heard that right?" Tony replied.

"But that doesn't mean we should just take her, she's not our Y/N."

Tony went to answer again but was cut off by Bucky.

"She loved them though."

"But they weren't together." Tony pointed out again.

"But she loved them. She had that look in her eye. The look our Y/N got when she thought we didn't love her back, that we wouldn't want something with her."

Natasha who'd been silently observing confirmed Bucky's thoughts.

"I remember that look. I'd tried to convince her you felt the same, tell her to get her head out her ass. You'd all be making eyes at each other. You'd look at her like she'd hung the moon and still she'd doubt herself."

Bucky and Steve nodded.

"We didn't get long enough." Bucky muttered, looking down at his feet.

"So, we keep looking." Steve said, voice full of authority.

"Make sure you keep using that Captain voice Rogers, you know how she loves it." Nat replied playfully.

Steve shook his head, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. You really did like his Captain voice. He went to respond but was cut off by Sam and Clint entering the meeting room with purpose.

"You got something?" Steve asked. Clint and Sam exchanged a look.

"Not us. Coulson's team. Ecuador. Old Nazi base." Clint tapped the Stark pad in his hand and projections showed round the room. It showed a mix of images. Labs, cells, rooms set up with medical equipment and a metal chair that looked all to familiar to Bucky.

"So Hydra then." Tony stated.

"Nope, good old fashioned Nazi's." Clint replied, tapping at the screen to show the old uniform and flags scattered around. "There's also very little in the shape of electricity and tech, they were running on the bare minimum."

"And anything that was there, that had any sort of energy is crumpled. All the hostiles are knocked out too." Sam added.

"What's this on the walls? Scorch marks?" Tony asked.

"According to Fitz and Simmons the heat is matchable to a volcano." Clint confirmed.

"Y/N can't do that." Tony pointed out.

"Johnny Storm can." Natasha replied. Steve's head snapped in Natasha's direction.

"Call them." He ordered. Natasha pulled her phone from her pocket and moved into the corridor. She entered one of the nearby rooms and asked FRIDAY to sound proof it.

"Anything else?" Steve asked.

"There's another base, like for like pretty much, in Paraguay. It's showing heat and energy flares. Coulson's team are on route, so are Danvers and Thor."

Steve and Bucky locked eyes.

"It's her Steve. I know it is."

"Sam, Clint. I want you going through these images looking for any sign, anything that she could have left us to find to let us know she was there." Steve ordered. "FRIDAY, get Vision down here and on this too."

Natasha came back into the room.

"What'd they say?" Steve asked.

"You're not going to like it." She replied. "Johnny's been gone for two weeks."

"WHAT?" "They didn't think to tell us." "That's bullshit man." Came from found the room.

"They only realised today."

"How is that possible?" Steve asked.

"Him and Sue got into another fight. He stormed out. He's been seeing an ex-SHIELD Agent. He said he was going to stay with her."

"Who's the Agent?" Tony asked.

"This is the part you won't like."

"Go on." Steve urged.

"The agent formerly known as Agent 13."

"So baby girl was right to be suspicious of her then." Sam added.

"Natasha." Steve said firmly.

"I've already put the call out."

"Whatever price you put on her head, double it." Tony said, an edge to his voice. Natasha nodded, telling him a certain merc with a mouth was already on the hunt and offering do it for free.

"Clint do we have an exact location?"

"It just came in." He confirmed and a map appeared, showing a flashing marker on the edge of the Chaco forest. Bucky turned to leave but was stopped as Vision and Wanda came in, partially blocking the doorway as Happy followed behind them with a parcel trolley, boxes pilled up. He huffed and pushed passed them, Steve trailing behind.

They all knew they'd probably be heading straight to the jet and they knew by now there was no point in asking them to wait. They'd follow once they'd ran through everything, checking again as they made there way to the location.

Happy took a quick look around the room, seeing the team deep in work and hoping it was something to do with you.

"Sorry to interrupt boss, but where do you guys want these ten thousand tea bags?" He asked Tony.

"I haven't ordered any...." He voice trailed off. "Wait, what did you say?"

"There's ten thousand tea bags. There's also a crate of biscuits. Chocolate too, Cadbury's I think. Shall I put them upstairs or over the drinks stations too."

"WHO ORDERED THESE???!!!" Tony yelled.

"It's on your credit card boss." Happy replied, looking at the delivery paperwork. The team fell silent and looked around at each other. There was only one person that would order tea in such large amount and would have the balls to use Tony' credit card.

A click out in the corridor had them looking around Happy towards the sound. Vision stepped around him, eyes drawn to the drinks station. Amongst the fancy coffee machine, various types of snacks and a fridge full of different milks, sat a cheap looking electric kettle. Tony hated it. It didn't match anything and looked out of place, he'd told you. You'd told him the water from the coffee machine wasn't right and plugged it anyway. A year on and he couldn't move it. Vision turned towards the team and smiled.

"Someone appears to have put the kettle on."

______________________________________________________________

"I don't care if she's Peggy's niece Steven, if she's hurt our girl. She's dead. It'll be the soldier she meets, not me."

Steve wasn't going to disagree, but part of him wanted to know why Sharon had done this. How was she involved? Was this about him? You? Her pardon taking longer than theirs? He couldn't be sure. Would she really damage Peggy's legacy like this? Or was that the issue? Would she always be in her shadow? Steve followed Bucky onto the jet and started to change into his gear, Bucky barking orders at the AI to get them in the air as soon as possible. Steve turned towards the front of the jet as he pulled on the top of his stealth suit, wanting to check FRIDAY had the correct location. Bucky continued to ready himself, strapping on weapons and muttering under his breath. It was then as Steve listened to his mutterings and checking the screens of the jet, that he saw something flash by the corner of his eye. Something bright, flying and moving at speed.

He looked to where it had travelled to but was blocked by the positioning of another quinjet. Then it flashed by again. Steve is sure the figure salutes him as it goes by. Johnny Storm.

Steve turned and is met with Bucky's wide eyes. No words are exchanged as they both turn and rush off the jet. They ignore the clatter of the compound doors and the team rushing out, shouting something about tea and biscuits. They rush around the line of quinjets and out to the grassy field that ran alongside the compound. Now overgrown because Steve couldn't stand the sound of the mower, his mind busy with thoughts of you, it hadn't been cut in months. It blew in the breeze, swaying as though it was the sea. The sun was shining so bright that they both had to squint their eyes, as they came out of the shadow of the building. Steve positioned his arm to block the sun, as Bucky mimicked his actions at his side. They scanned the field and their eyes found the spot where Johnny looked to have stopped. The exact same spot 616 had disappeared from as she'd left.

Standing with her head tilted up to the sun, hair matted, stealth suit scorched and covered in dust, dirt, blood and grime stood their girl. They watched as she let out a shuddered breath as her hand skimmed through the grass.

Bucky gasped.

"My god." Steve whispered.

Your eyes snapped to theirs, and then you were moving towards them, a limp in your run and a sob in your throat. They sprinted towards you. It took seconds from them to reach you but to Steve and Bucky it felt like you were moving in slow motion.

Reaching each other, you fell into their arms. Sobs of relief, questions of where you had been and what had happened filled the air.

You were home. Reunited and back where you needed to be.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Da Picts

Grant Allen: Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this the tale of Pallinghurst Barrow Allen: it's about a scientist who's going to a scientist convention Allen: to talk to scientists about science Allen: as you do

Allen: of course, this scientist Allen: he's very rational, very logical Allen: he's certainly NOT given to wild flights of fancy Allen: not the sort to believe in non-scientific things King: oooo this going to be good!

Allen: but it turns out that right next to his lodgings Allen: there's this barrow Allen: it's probably nothing to worry about Allen: it's probably fine

Allen: but THEN Allen: he goes out to the barrow and OH SHIT Allen: he sees the ghosts of the picts! Allen: and he's all "oh no" Allen: "I sure PICT a bad time to go to the barrow!"

Allen: he sees these scary pict cavemen Allen: with their sloping ape-like brows and hairy monkey faces King: hey grant i don't think the picts were actually cavemen Lovecraft: steve, don't interrupt the man!

King: i'm pretty sure the picts weren't cavemen tho Allen: no no they were definitely cavemen Allen: see, steve, there's this brand new theory Allen: it's called evolution Allen: you might have heard of it Allen: see, the way it works is Allen: organisms change over time due to mutation and genetics Allen: stop me if i'm going too fast King: no i'm following so far Poe: steve you know this theory King: edgar please King: i'm listening and learning

Allen: so see Allen: people evolved from cavemen, right? King: i mean, i get the principle, yes Allen: and the picts came before us, right? Allen: so the picts were cavemen, right? Allen: that's science King: ya know, i can't argue with science

Allen: anyway, the scientist is all "boy i'm having a hard time with these ghost picts" Allen: "maybe the local doctor can give me a prescription for a nice sedative" Allen: and the doctor's all "solution is simple, you need to smoke this weed" Allen: "that will definitely stop those weird thoughts and visions"

Allen: anyway he takes the weed Allen: but surprisingly, that is NOT the end of the weird thoughts and visions Fitz James O'Brien: hey man O'Brien: did i hear someone was looking for the weed that stops you from having weird thoughts and visions? Allen: yes, do you have anything like that? O'Brien: man, i got EVERYTHING O'Brien: but no i don't have that

Allen: what do you do if you're having weird thoughts and visions? O'Brien: man, you should try smoking a little bud, man Allen: will that help? O'Brien: will that help what

[natequarter]

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

considering changing my url but like what even to. yourbutchboyfriend?

💣 commiedyke Follow

DO ITTT

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

alright :3 here goes nothing

#anything for you

3 notes

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

man why does the doctor always act like i don't know what sex is? i'm 17 not 7 lol

🖋️ edwardianadvcnturess  Follow

He does the same with me! It's so utterly infuriating, why does he think just because I'm young I don't know what an orgy is?

🔫 thebrigadier Follow

I do believe he views all humans as deeply immature. I am nearing fifty now and he still patronises me whenever we meet.

❄️ icemaiden Follow

You're FIFTY??? No wonder the Doctor refuses to talk to you about such matters, that's practically cradle snatching. Or grooming.

⚰️ themaster Follow

hey didn't you lie about your age the first time you met the doctor? also you are literally 120. TIME TOT ☝️

❄️ icemaiden Follow

And you are literally a mass murderer. Go away.

⚰️ themaster Follow

you are like a little baby. watch this

*dies in his arms and he cries because he loves me unlike you who he could never love*

🎉 yourbutchboyfriend Follow

are you guys done yet or

#man what the fuck #is this like. time lord flirting

617 notes

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

Tell me why the Rassilon character study I was just reading has an author's note that says "Sorry I haven't updated in decades, I got kidnapped and tortured by Daleks for twenty years!" Are all Mo3 users like this or is it just r*negades

🧶 elizabethtudor-blog Follow

Isn't this what happened to the president of Gallifrey?

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

First of all, get off my post, I specifically have it in my DNI that humans are blocked on sight. Second of all,

WHAT?

👑 fred Follow

well what were YOU doing at the devils sacrament dare i ask

🐧 coordinatorsupreme Follow

None of those words are in the Matrix.

#What in Rassilon's name is a sacrament

132 notes

🗡️ worsthumanongallifrey Follow

it's always the little things in life. for example today i discovered that the writer behind all those doctor/romana fics on mo3 is none other than romana herself

#but does she write anything about me #nooo #no she does not

550 notes

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Having a lovely coffee date with Harry to celebrate twenty years of the Doctor abandoning me! For some reason Harry hates it when I phrase things this way

📑 anordinaryjournalist Follow

Only 3 people died this time, it sounds terrible but I was hoping for something more interesting in all honesty

#the cafe didn't even explode or anything this time round #last time we had to pick up the dismembered bits of several corpses. much more fun #on the other hand Harry had to take his shirt off today (long story) #so that was fun #I mean it wasn't even really necessary but shhh he doesn't need to know that #eternally glad someone else is willing to put up with my nonsense (exploding fish-puma alien hybrids)

12 notes

🚬 fitz-crier Follow

nneed himmto fied merinto a pjper shrrder thrgn eastthe paper until wahts ke and whsts him is indenifinsble

📺 compassion Follow

I think he should not do that. Get help.

1 note

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

Repeat after me: your psychosexual obsession with an alien threat that wants to kill you is valid. Cosplaying as intergalactic mass murderers does not make you a bad person.

👑 fred Follow

if you make ONE MORE post glorifying cricket like this i may actually have to report you to the high council

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

Wait Romana I didn't mean it I'm sorry. I'll do anything. I'll unexplode Adric please don't report me to the High Council

👑 fred Follow

i'm not angry, i'm just disappointed.

✈️ donewiththisshit573 Follow

I'm angry! Stop fucking bringing up Adric when clearly none of you care about him!

⚰️ themaster Follow

what she said. be psychosexually obsessed with ME please please pretty please. i'll treat you right i won't report you to the high council i won't even kill you a little bit this time

🏏 the--adventurer5 Follow

You are pathetic.

#if you died right now I wouldn't even be sad I would be overjoyed

467,343 notes

[hederasgarden]

no thoughts just Six with a breeding kink.

i think a part of him is scared because he doesn’t think he’d be a good dad but i also think he simply can’t help himself

You guys are coming for me tonight with these asks and I love it.

Warning for lots of pregnancy talk, breeding kink, and everything in between. We also have a little angsty chit chat before getting to the good stuff. 

I agree Six has a breeding kink but I also think he's deeply conflicted about it. He may not see himself as a bad person but he did spend most of his adult life doing the CIA's dirty work. Because of that, when it comes to the reader and any children they may have together, he probably feels like he's tainting them in some way. He would always be worried about the possibility of his past catching up to him and putting his family in danger. 

Then there are his complex feelings and concerns about whether or not he'd be a good dad. His only example growing up was an abuser. I suspect and hope that in this AU - if Fitz is alive - Six would draw a lot on that relationship when it comes to being a parent (which isn't exactly healthy either). I have a LOT of thoughts on this topic, especially if he ever had a son instead of a daughter, because you know he'd be terrified of repeating the cycle of violence he grew up with. 

Anyway, angsty thoughts aside, let's dive into some horny ones. That is, after all, why everyone is here, right?

Prepare yourself for lots of questionable thoughts below. 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Six is an observant man and picks up on everything, so he definitely knows your cycle. Probably even better than you do, and although he’d never admit it, he finds himself wanting you even more during your fertile window. 

He also thinks about getting you pregnant more than he cares to acknowledge. Sometimes, he finds himself fantasizing about how your belly would look all swollen and round with his child. He especially likes to think about how that means everyone would know he did that to you. It’s a visible signal that you’re his, and speaks to that deep-rooted, primal part of himself he tries to ignore.

When it comes to fucking you, he loves having you on your back, laid out under him, so he can see absolutely everything. When he's about to come, he'll grab the back of your thighs and shove himself as deep inside as he can. Afterwards, he likes to lay his body over yours and have you cockwarm him to make sure his cum is inside you as long as possible. He definitely enjoys watching it leak out of you too, but he always pushes it back inside with his fingers. 

I don't see him as a big dirty talker outside of an errant, "Let me fill you up," or "I got what you need," if he was really lost in the sauce. He would certainly talk you through sex in general with lots of things like, "That good, sweetheart? Yeah? You like that? I got you. Mmmm let me hear you..." etc.

Once he does manage to knock you up and comes to terms with everything, he is even more obsessed with having you 24/7 – especially when you're further along. He loves to take you on your side, thrusting into you slowly while he cradles your belly. Having you on your hands and knees would be another favorite of his because he can press his chest to your back and get nice and deep. He loves stroking your stomach and letting his fingers drag down to where he disappears inside you.

Unlike before, sex when you’re pregnant isn’t something desperate and hurried. It’s a slow affair. Six wants to savor and draw it out. 

Thanks for sending in the ask, anon! And a big thank you to @ryebecca and @gettingvetted for looking this over! Also, thank you @elusivewildflower for letting me scream in your DMs about this.

[thecubspeaks]

[there is no one at work and i've been wanting to poke at this idea... i have no idea where the plot would actually go except in the broadest strokes, so who knows if there will be more]

Karlach cries when Jaheira presses the harp-shaped pin into her hand. 

She’s been crying at everything since emerging from Avernus, it’s honestly getting embarrassing. Sunsets, sunrises, grass, a guy selling cabbages, some kids playing a game in the street. 

Obviously she cries when Wyll sets off– she cries about ten times on their last night together, which very quickly becomes a very drunk last night– like, singing-on-the-roof-of-the-Elfsong drunk. Not that it’s the last last: they will see each other again, but Karlach needs to be in Baldur’s Gate for a little bit and Wyll needs anything but, and he’s given up enough for her so she’d never ask him to stay, badly as she wants him to.

She takes a couple days after that to just be. She wanders the city, she eats all the food she missed, she scares the hells out of Dammon turning up unannounced and they both cry yet again. She calls on every friend she ever had: Rolan and his siblings (Lia’s a Flaming Fist now!), Alfira and Lakrissa (not married yet, but possibly finally together? Still hard to tell), Fitz and the baby (not a baby now, he’s walking around and can almost hold a conversation), Danis and Bex (who have a baby now, too), Barcus and his pals– hells, she even stops in at the Guildhall. Cries at all of them.

She buys fruit on the Wide and visits the House of Wonders, because she’s a fucking hero of Baldur’s Gate and best mates with the Grand Duke’s son, so she can actually go to the Upper City now. Doesn’t spend much time there, though. There’s too much to do in the Lower City. She spends a day hanging out by the docks. She considers Sharess’s Caress, but loses her nerve. She haggles with street vendors in Little Calimshan. She visits her parents. Definitely cries there. She lays in the grass in Bloomridge Park for an entire day, even when it starts pouring rain. Then she catches a stonking cold, and spends a few more days in bed, luxuriating in the knowledge that she can just lie around feeling sorry for herself and a bunch of imps aren’t going to try to stab her in the neck while she’s sneezing. She has a big, snotty cry about that, too. 

When she’s well enough to not turn Jaheira’s place into a plague pit, she makes her way there, the last and accidentally delayed stop on her list. She hasn’t really made it past the Blushing Mermaid in this direction. She tries not to look at the statue of Balduran in the square– pity that, of all fucking things, didn’t get destroyed– and as she’s thinking it, resisting the urge to look at that face, she stumbles into someone.

She laughs at once– looking the way she does, you’ve got to let people know right away you don’t mean any harm– and hold up her hands in apology before she’s even fully turned around. “Sorry, mate, I wasn’t–”

She stops. The woman, dressed in a plain black gown, is brushing herself off with visible irritation. “Watching where you were going? Yes, obviously.” She looks up, and her frown deepens. “Why are you staring?” 

Karlach blurts it out despite herself, despite knowing what a bad idea it is. “Shadowheart?” 

Her eyes flash wide in surprise, then she quickly composes herself. “Is that supposed to be a name?” She gives her skirt one final flick– she’s wearing gloves, so Karlach can’t see if the wound is still there on the back of her hand, but why wouldn’t it be? 

The ache of grief and guilt is so sudden and strong, Karlach feels sick. She can’t speak, can’t say anything as Shadowheart gives her a last disdainful look, mutters something about people with more muscle than sense, and stalks away. Karlach sinks right down onto the plinth, sitting there at Balduran’s feet. This is a very different wanting to cry than all the other crying she’s been doing. This is– all the things she hasn’t been thinking about. The people she hasn’t seen, because she can’t bear to see them. This is two fucking years for guilt over what he did– what they did– to curdle into certainty that it was the wrong fucking choice. 

She’s never stopped thinking about it, even in Avernus where you couldn’t ever lose focus, had to sleep with one eye open and keep your mind ten steps ahead. Even in the midst of all that, her shitty old brain found time to remind her constantly, constantly, of the look on Shadowheart’s face as the Mother Superior and those creepy, evil masked Sharrans dragged her away. The look on Jaheira’s face as she stared down Astarion, like she might spit at his feet. Wyll and Astarion shouted at each other for what felt like hours that night, until Karlach and Gale just had to drag them off to separate corners of the camp.  

And there was so much left to do, so much they needed each other for. So they just never spoke of it again. 

They hadn’t killed her. Was that a comfort? 

And on the other hand, they had killed her, hadn’t they. They’d killed Shads, Fringe, the spiky heart with a soft centre that Karlach knew, wanted so badly to know better. There was nothing in those eyes, in a mind they’d probably had to wipe clean half a dozen times since Karlach saw her last. Since Karlach just let them take her away. 

I’m not usually one for making the first move, she’d said. But then again, you haven’t exactly been quiet about wanting some companionship tonight. So… shall we give this upgrade a trial run?

And she’d grinned and said, Oh fuck yes. 

And Shadowheart had laughed, just the smallest bit, and said, Let’s just not go announcing it to the whole camp.

So they never told anyone. 

She’s half in a daze still as she walks to Jaheira’s place, knocks on the door. She can hear the noise of all the kids tearing around inside. One she’s never seen before, an absolutely miniscule little halfling, opens the door and stares up at her with huge eyes and huge rosy cheeks like two apples. 

“Hi,” Karlach says. The kid is so small, it’s really not helping her feel more anchored in reality. “Is your mum in?” 

The halfling takes in a long, deep breath that puffs up her whole little chest, then yells impossibly loudly, “JAHEIRAAAAA!” 

“How many times, Cheska?” scolds Rion’s voice from somewhere inside, but then she, too, is shouting, “Mother! One of your mysterious friends come to call, apparently!” 

Coming here always feels like a flash of a life she could have had, and that’s really not something she needs layered on top of her present state of mind. She almost just turns and leaves right then, but Jaheira’s there at the door before she can, and must see something in her face, because she hauls Karlach right into her study and shuts the door. Then she stops short, her hands on Karlach’s shoulders.

“Let me look at you,” she says. There’s an unignorable waver in her voice.

“Jaheira,” Karlach says warningly. “I’m a fucking faucet these days, so if you start, you’ll never get me to stop. And I just…” 

“Just what?” Jaheira prompts, and seems very glad to get to move past the moment of near-miss vulnerability. “You do not look nearly as happy as I expected you to. How long have you been back?”

“Just over a tenday,” Karlach says. “I meant to come sooner, honest, but–” 

Jaheira cuts her off with a laugh and a wave of her hand. “You needn’t make excuses to me, of all people! Rion would tell me I am getting my just desserts. But come, sit. Tell me what’s the matter, cub.” 

A voice in Karlach’s head that sounds suspiciously like Rion’s points out that clearly, Jaheira is bored. She wouldn’t be home in the first place otherwise. But that can be true at the same time as it can be true that Jaheira cares. About Karlach, about all of them. 

About Shadowheart. 

Karlach takes a breath.

“I just saw Shadowheart.”

Something goes dark in Jaheira’s expression, like a shutter drawn over her eyes. Karlach should wait to see what she has to say, but– well, Karlach’s always been impatient, and talked too much, and two more years in Avernus isn’t about to change that. “How did I let that happen, Jaheira? How did I just– stand there? It was like… it was like I was in Avernus all over again, in Zariel’s court, just watching horrible things happen and telling myself I was powerless to stop them, so it was more important to keep myself alive.” 

“Astarion was in no place to be a leader then, and we should have been quicker to see it.” Jaheira sinks into a chair next to Karlach’s. Karlach knows she was angry about it once– she saw it herself– but it sounds like all that anger has burned away with time and just left weariness behind. 

“I guess we were so used to just letting him do the talking,” Karlach says, not that the thought consoles her. “And I was so proud of him, after everything with Cazador, freeing those other spawn. I really thought he’d just– keep making the right choices.” 

“No one makes the right choice every time,” Jaheira says. “And Astarion is better at hiding his grief than most. He was far less at peace with what he chose than he wished us to know. And Shadowheart paid the price for our inattentiveness.” 

Karlach shakes her head. “I should have seen. I should have done something. It wasn’t too late to fight.”  “You are finally free,” Jaheira says firmly. “Do not turn around and cage yourself in regrets. We were none of us thinking clearly then, with the weight of the world on our shoulders– you, with the spectre of your own death always at your heels.”

“It’s because I’m free that I have to think about her!” Karlach retorts. “I get to be free. We condemned her forever.”

Funny, to get angry and not feel the literal rush of flames engulfing her. It’s just a normal heat– well, probably still a bit hotter than normal, but not literal sparks at the edges of her vision, and– in those last tendays– not the ominous clunking and whirring that said she’d started to push too hard. But it was never just the engine that got her heated up. 

“You’ve had all this time to make your peace with it, but I’ve never stopped thinking about her! I don’t regret anything more in my whole fucking life. We did so much good, and none of it even matters to me because I just think of that one evil, evil thing we let him do. That we did. I need to–” The idea’s words before it’s an idea, she says it without entirely knowing what she’s saying ‘til it’s said. “I have to do something. She’s still alive. I have to help her.” 

“I should have guessed you would say something like that.” Jaheira stands up. She goes to her desk and starts to rummage through it. “I know you know the stories, so it will sound strange to you, but you remind me very much of Khalid. You have the same heart. The same passion, though you wear it differently. Nothing can crush your kindness, after a life that would have ground all the good out of most. You cannot bear injustice, despite all the injustices done to you.” She finds what she’s looking for and straightens up. She plants both hands on the desk and fixes Karlach with a long, level, unwavering look. “You know I do not say this lightly. And you also know it is not entirely a compliment. He had– you have– the true heart of a Harper.” 

Karlach’s jaw drops. She’s just staring like an idiot but she doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing to say, how is she supposed to respond to that? Jaheira thinks that she–

“I have spent the past months,” Jaheria says, “determining how the House of Grief can be brought down. There is unsettled business between Viconia and myself, and I have allowed her to prey for too long on the city’s lost and hopeless. And I–” Her voice falters, almost imperceptibly. “I saw her, too. A few months ago. She must have been given some mission outside of the cloister. But that will be our opportunity.” 

“How’s that? Burn it down when she’s away?”

“We must be spies before we can be soldiers,” Jaheira says with a crooked smile. “They are too well-versed in secrecy. We must have someone on the inside, and none of my Harpers have had any success. There is only one person.” Jaheira splays out her hand. The silver harp glints in her outstretched palm. “When Shadowheart sees a glimpse of light, she reaches for it. They cannot crush this out of her no matter how hard they try. You have shown her before. I know you can do it again.” 

She cries when Jaheira presses the pin into her hand. 

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

I have soft dark!Lloyd x fem!reader (reader in early 20s so it’s an age gap too) request idea if it’s all right!!

Y/n at a fancy restaurant by herself after her date stood her up, and Lloyd happens to be at this restaurant and goes to sit at her table bringing out all of his intimidating charm and flirting. They both have a lot of chemistry and end up having dinner together and they end up going home together (to his mansion) and they spend the night together. Lloyd gets up early (letting her sleep in) to have his chef prepare breakfast and to get some work done before she wakes up. That’s when he gets the call from Carmichael to go after Six and get the drive, and when he asks if there’s anyone Six cares about, he’s told about Fitz, Fitz’s niece, and Six’s younger sister. When he receives the picture and name of Six’s younger sister, he’s told is shocked to find that it’s Y/n, the very woman sleeping in his bed upstairs. He then goes upstairs with his and Y/n’s breakfast and breaks the news (probably in his own intimidating smug way) that one, her brother has gotten himself into a lot of trouble, and two she can’t leave as a result. She’s understandably very upset & scared and she tries to run but he grabs her and holds her until she calms down. During the first month, she fights the growing feeling of attachment to Lloyd and tries to escape multiple times (one time his staff got too rough with her, and Lloyd did a little more than fire them😳) so Lloyd locks her in her room till she apologizes 🥺 When he checks on her to see if she’s ready to apologize, he finds her getting sick (turns out she’s pregnant from their night together and she’s having morning sickness). Over the next two months she gives into the attachment she’s feeling for him and revels in the affection and love he shows her (no more running away). By the time Six comes to rescue Y/n, Fitz, and Claire, Y/n and Lloyd are very much in love and Y/n is very pregnant and doesn’t want to be rescued

-🧋

Giving In To The Attachment » Lloyd Hansen

Pairings: Soft Dark!Lloyd Hansen x Female Reader

Summary: You fight the urge to grow attached to Lloyd, but then you give in to it when you find out you’re pregnant with his child.

Warnings: Soft Dark, Angst, Fluff, language, age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of sex (18+), violence, pregnant!reader, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You sat at the table in a restaurant you were supposed to be on a date at, but your date stood you up. You stared down at the table as you table your fingers against the glass that’s half filled with water. Lloyd walked in the restaurant and seen you looking down. He was going to get something to go, but now he wants to see if you’re ok or not.

“Ma’am?” Lloyd says.

You looked up to see Lloyd standing on the opposite side of the table. He wasn’t the guy who you were supposed to go on a date with tonight, but you’ll admit that he’s more attractive than your date.

“Are you ok?” He asks.

“Not really. My date stood me up.” You tell him.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He said sincerely. “May I?” He asks, referring to the chair next to him.

You gave him a nod. Lloyd sat down in the chair across from you. He then called a waiter over to the table and ordered what he wants.

“And the lady can have whatever she wants.” Lloyd says flirtatiously.

You told the waiter what you wanted. Then he took yours and Lloyd’s orders back to the cook.

“What’s your name, pretty girl?” He asks, taking a sip of his drink.

“Y/N.” You tell him.

“I’m Lloyd.” He tells you. “Now, tell me…” He leans his arms against the table. “Why would anyone want to stand up a pretty woman like you?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t his type.” You say.

“It’s his loss. Now, I get to enjoy the company of his date.” He says flirtatiously.

You couldn’t help but giggle softly. You and Lloyd got to know each other during dinner, but it didn’t end there. After dinner, Lloyd invited you over to his mansion where you and him indulged in the fun festivities.

The next morning, the sun was shining through the window. Lloyd looks over at you and smiles. He adjusted the blankets on you before getting out of bed to get dressed. He then went to the kitchen to tell his chef to make breakfast for two before getting some work done. Carmichael calls him a few minutes later.

“Hello?” Lloyd answers.

“I have a job for you.” Carmichael says, getting straight to the point.

“I’m listening.” Lloyd says.

“I want you to go after a man named Court Gentry who goes by the name Six and get a drive from him.” Carmichael tells him.

“Sure thing.” Lloyd replies. “Question, does he have anyone who he cares about?” He asks.

“There’s three people who he cares about. Fitz, Claire, and his younger sister.” Carmichael tells him. “I just emailed you pictures of them.” He says.

Lloyd looks at the pictures of the three people Carmichael just named. His eyes grow wide when he comes across your picture and your name, finding out that you’re Six’s younger sister.

“I’ll get it done.” Lloyd says before hanging up the phone.

As if it were on cue, breakfast was ready. Lloyd took the two plates upstairs to his bedroom. You were awake and wearing one of his shirts for a few minutes before he got to the bedroom.

“Good morning, handsome.” You smiled, walking over to him and pecked his lips softly.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Lloyd smiles back.

He placed the two plates on the small table he has in his bedroom. You sat down in one of the chairs and he sat down in the one opposite from you.

“I found out something interesting about you a few minutes ago.” Lloyd casually says.

“Oh yea? What did you find?” You asked.

“Your older brother is Court Gentry who goes by the name Six.” He says.

You sighed, wondering what your brother did this time.

“What did my brother do this time?” You asked.

“For starters, he’s in a lot of trouble.” He says.

You rolled your eyes. That doesn’t surprise you. Six was always a troublemaker, even when you two were kids.

“One more thing, you’re not leaving.” He says.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you took a sip of your coffee.

“What do you mean I’m not leaving?” You asked.

“It’s simple. You’re not leaving till I get what I want.” He says, not caring to elaborate more why on it.

You felt yourself getting scared. You jumped out of the chair and instinctively ran towards the door, but you didn’t get far. Lloyd grabbed you by wrapping his arms around your waist and held you against him a couple of feet away from the door. He held you tighter the more you kicked and squirmed in his arms.

“Calm down.” Lloyd almost whispers. “Everything is going to be fine.” He says softly.

Something about the softness in Lloyd’s voice was calming to you, which is what made you calm down. He walked over to the bed and sat you down on it, getting at eye level with you.

“Don’t even think about trying to running again, ok?” He says sternly.

“Ok.” You replied quietly.

———

Ever since the day Lloyd found out you’re Six’s younger sister, he’s given your free rein of his mansion. You thought you were able to escape quite a few times, but Lloyd caught you. You should’ve known that he had cameras at every entrance and exit of his mansion. You did find a window that didn’t have a camera pointing at it. You thought you were in the clear to escape, but you were wrong.

“Where do you think you’re going?” One of Lloyd’s employees asks.

“None of your fucking business.” You say.

You should’ve known better than to be a smartass to anyone in Lloyd’s mansion. His employee grabbed you from behind and pulled you away from the window. You kicked and squirmed in his hold. You threw your head back and hit his nose with the back of your head, giving him a bloody nose.

“You bitch!” His employee cried out.

His employee dropped you on the floor to hold his bloody nose, your body making a thudding noise when you hit the floor. Lloyd walked in the room a few seconds later to see what’s going on.

“What’s going on?” Lloyd asks, seeing you on the floor before looking at his employee.

“She was trying to escape again and I grabbed her before she could.” His employee explains while holding his bloody nose.

Lloyd looks down at you, seeing red marks on your arms. That was enough to tell him that his employee got rough with you. You watched the interaction between Lloyd and his employee. You assumed he was just going to tell him not to get rough with you again, which is the complete opposite of what you thought. Lloyd threw a punch at him and fired him.

“Get up.” Lloyd says to you.

You stared up at Lloyd before slowly standing up. He grasped your upper arm with a firm grip and lead you upstairs to the bedroom Lloyd set you up in a month ago, which was around the same time you began fighting the attachment you have for him.

“You’re going to stay in here until you’re ready to apologize for escaping again.” Lloyd says as if you’re a child who just threw a tantrum.

You watched as Lloyd closed the bedroom door. Your eyes went wide when you heard him lock the door from the outside. You ran over to the door and started jiggling the doorknob.

“You asshole!” You shouted, pounding the side of your fist against the door.

A moment later, you felt yourself getting nauseous. You were hoping it’s just from being upset or something you ate. You immediately ran to the bathroom and got sick. You sat down on the floor, leaning your back against the wall across from the toilet. You held your head in your hands and got lost in your thoughts. You got to thinking of the night you spent with Lloyd when your date stood you up… a month ago. Before you could react to the possibility of you being pregnant with Lloyd’s baby, you got sick again.

You weren’t sure how long you were in the bathroom. You didn’t even hear Lloyd unlock the bedroom door and walk in. He expected you to be on the bed and reading a book, but you weren’t. That’s when he heard the noises of you getting sick in the bathroom. He saw you hunched over the toilet with your head against your hands.

“Are you ok?” Lloyd asks softly.

“Does it look like I’m ok?” You asked sarcastically.

Lloyd walked further in the bathroom. He wet a washcloth with cold water and handed it to you. You looked up at him for a second and took it. You leaned back against the wall and put the wet washcloth against your forehead. The wetness and coolness of the washcloth felt soothing against your skin.

“I’m going to tell you something. Do you promise not to freak out?” You say.

Lloyd nodded.

“I think I might be pregnant.” You say.

“How do you know that for sure?” He asks.

“For starters, I have morning sickness.” You say.

Lloyd originally came to see if you were ready to apologize for attempting to escape earlier, but this news is more important than that. He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall next to you to process what you just said.

“Before you say anything, you’re the father. Don’t ask me if I’m sure. You’re the one who didn’t wear a condom during our night together a month ago.” You say.

Lloyd moved closer to you and put his hand on your stomach. You looked down at his hand and then looked at him.

“We’ll get through this together.” He almost whispers.

You gazed deeply in his eyes and smiled. Lloyd leaned in to kiss your lips, but you turned your head to the side and he ended up kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think you want to kiss my lips right now cause I’ve been throwing up.” You say.

“Good point.” Lloyd chuckles.

———

A couple months go by and everything is going better than it was two months ago. Everything is going according to plan for your pregnancy. The doctor told you you’re almost 3 months pregnant. Lloyd has definitely stepped up a lot. Also, you gave in to the attachment to Lloyd and now, everything is perfect between you two compared to how things were a couple months ago.

Right now, you’re standing in the bedroom that’s going to be the baby’s nursery. You’re looking around the room, trying to figure out how it should be set up by the time the baby is born. You softly tapped your fingers against your pregnant belly as you thought about it.

“I was wondering where you were, sunshine.” Lloyd says as he walks in the nursery.

You turned around and smiled. Lloyd walked over to you and pecked your lips softly, putting one of his hands on your pregnant belly.

“What’re you doing?” He asks.

“I’m trying to figure out how the nursery should be set up.” You say.

You turned back around to look around the room again. Lloyd looked around the room too.

“I don’t know about you, but I think the wallpaper should be baby zoo animals.” You say.

“I agree.” He agrees. “I think it would be cute.” He says.

“Me too.” You smiled.

———

You’re now 6 months pregnant. Everything is as it should be. Or so you thought. Your brother, Six, came to Lloyd’s mansion in search of Fitz and Claire. They were relieved to see him. Claire hugged Six.

“We have to go.” Six says.

“Wait, no. There’s a lady here.” Claire says.

“Do you know her name or have you seen her?” He asks.

“No.” She says.

“I’ll look for her. You two need to get out of here.” He says.

Claire and Fitz nodded. Six looked all over the place for the lady Claire just told him about. Little does he know that the lady she told him about is his younger sister who’s pregnant with Lloyd’s baby. He looked in every bedroom, bathroom, and closet upstairs. He found you in the nursery. Your back is facing him. You were sorting out baby clothes and didn’t hear him enter the room.

“Ma’am?” Six says softly.

You stopped what you were doing and froze when you heard his voice. His voice sounds familiar. Could the voice belong to your older brother? There’s only one way to find out. You turned around to confirm your suspicions. Your older brother was standing a few feet away from you. His eyes went wide when he seen your pregnant belly.

“Y/N?” Six says softly.

“Hi, Court.” You say softly.

Six walked over to you and hugged you tightly, being careful to not hug you too tight. He couldn’t help but wonder what Lloyd might’ve did to you.

“Did Lloyd get you pregnant?” He asks.

“Yes.” You answered.

“Did he assault you in any way?” He asks.

“No! This was consensual.” You answered.

Six felt relieved to know that Lloyd didn’t hurt you in any way.

“I’m going to be an uncle?” He asks softly with a smile.

“Yes.” You smiled back.

He hugged you again.

“Let’s get out of here.” He says.

“I don’t want to leave.” You say.

“Y/N, please don’t argue with me on this.” He pleads softly.

“I’m not trying to argue with you, Court. I’m staying here with Lloyd. I love him and I want to raise this baby with him.” You say.

As if it were on cue, Lloyd walked in the nursery to see Six talking to you.

“Well, well, well…” Lloyd says.

Six turned around when he heard Lloyd’s voice. His jaw clenched when he seen him. He walked over to him and punched him in the face, making you gasp.

“That’s for holding my little sister captive!” Six says.

“Technically, I didn’t hold her captive. That was my intention 6 months ago, but that’s no longer my intention.” Lloyd says.

Six punched him again after hearing Lloyd’s old intentions about you. Lloyd threw a couple punches at your brother. You knew everything was going to get worse if you didn’t try to stop them.

“Stop it!” You shouted.

Six and Lloyd stopped punching each other and turned their attention to you. You walked over to them.

“Please.” You pleaded softly.

Lloyd and Six can only agree on one thing… you. They both love you. You’re Six’s little sister and you’re the woman Lloyd loves and the mother of his child.

“Don’t do this.” You pleaded again and looked from Lloyd to Six. “If not for me, then do it for the baby.” You say.

They know you’re right. There’s no reason for them to be fighting if it’s going to upset you.

“Y/N, are you sure this is what you want?” Six asks softly.

“This is what she wants.” Lloyd answers for you.

“I wasn’t talking to you! I was talking to my sister!” Six says.

“This is what I honestly want, Court.” You answered softly.

Six nods and hugs you.

“Just know, I’m one call away.” Six says.

You smiled and nodded.

“I love you, sis.” Six whispers and kisses your forehead.

“I love you too, Court.” You whispered back.

You watched Six leave the room. You couldn’t help but tear up when he left. Lloyd wrapped his arms around you, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin.” Lloyd whispers.

“It’s ok. I understand.” You say.

You leaned up to kiss his lips softly.

“Can you do one thing for me?” You asked.

“Anything.” He says.

“Can you at least try to get along with my brother when the baby is born?” You asked.

“For you, I’ll try.” He says.

You smiled and pecked his lips softly.

“I love you, Lloyd.” You say softly.

“I love you too, cupcake.” He almost whispers.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

-Bucky’s Doll

[crescentpaws]

unprompted anti keefe post because i remembered this quote just now and got unnecessarily mad about it again. almost every reason i have to hate keefe can be seen in this quote from legacy btw:

“Isn’t this the epic showdown you’ve been planning where you order Tammy Boy to kill me? Thanks for the warning about that, by the way,” he told Tam. “As you can see, it worked super well.”

“keefe can keep a secret if it’s actually important” no the fuck he can not. this quote just proves how little he actually cares for other people. tam risked SO MUCH to pass along that warning to sophie, and keefe just casually mentions it in front of gisela. i can’t tell if he’s just really stupid or if he genuinely doesn’t care about the very REAL and very LIKELY possibility that gisela would literally kill tam for that. keefe casually decides to possibly condemn someone to death just to have a moment where he can tell his mom “i already knew what you were planning all along btw! lol! haha!” god he’s a fucking idiot.

then he has the nerve to say “as you can see, it worked super well” as if keefe didn’t SPECIFICALLY CHOOSE to ignore the message????? acting as if it’s tam’s fault that they’re in this position???

i get he uses humor as a coping mechanism, but all his comebacks to his mom just seem so stupid considering he is fully aware of what she is able to do. even if he knows she won’t hurt him, she is fully willing to hurt his friends. which he never seems to care about (unless it’s sophie, because for some reason sophie is the only person that matters to him. but clearly not even she really matters or else he would stop betraying her trust over and over and over again.)

reminder that the only reason they’re here is because sophie knew if she didn’t take keefe to london he would go by himself btw. which is just so. UGH. it’s not her job to be his fucking babysitter. how is that a healthy relationship

and then keefe has the nerve to be mad after tam escapes with gisela. like, you know, the literal exact same fucking thing he did with alvar in lodestar. except in keefe’s situation, he wasn’t a prisoner. he wasn’t wearing special bonds made of light that restricted his power. tam actually had a reason to go back with gisela. which keefe never did with alvar. but it’s ok! he’s allowed to be mad because it’s his mom! he’s allowed to be mad at everyone if they focus on the bigger picture instead of what will stop making him feel sad right this second! it’s ok for him to be mad because his mom is evil! but it’s not ok for fitz to be mad about them letting alvar go! because that’s different for some reason! trust me guys!!!!!!!!!!!

and don’t even get me STARTED on the final battle scene in loamnore. keefe is just so. oh my god. he’s so fucking aggravating. literally the whole group’s plan relied on the fact that keefe WASNT going to be there. he literally PROMISED he wouldn’t show up and try to take things over (like he always does). i seriously have no idea how sophie ever trusts him again after that. that would be my final straw. all he’s done is prove that no matter how much he swears he’s telling the truth, he’s just a manipulative liar 👍 it shouldn’t be sophie’s job to be constantly monitoring keefe to make sure he doesn’t do stupid shit like this. she shouldn’t have to be using her energy 24/7 worrying about what stupid thing he’s going to do next. that is not a healthy relationship.

and what do you know, keefe arriving at the scene was exactly what the neverseen wanted! gisela got to do what she was planning from the beginning!! and keefe acts like it wasn’t ENTIRELY PREVENTABLE.

god he’s just so stupid i don’t understand how any of these characters are able to remain friends with him. but whatever. keep glorifying his shitty behavior i guess.

[starhvney]

What music do you think garroth Travis or Laurance would listen to👀👀

𝐌𝐘𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒' 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐂'𝐒

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: laurance, garroth, and travis

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: for some reason i had some trouble narrowing down what they'd listen to, but here's my headcanons!

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

genuinely his liked songs playlist will give you whiplash. he really loves some oldies (a mix of pop, rock, and jazz), and then suddenly you catch a little of his 2000s rock and emo music (remember, he used to think the shadow knights looked and seemed cool), and then a little bit of alt/indie.

bro’s got a “little bit of this, a little bit of that!” ass playlist. here’s a few examples:

blue train by john coltrane

that’s life by frank sinatra

maneater by daryl hall and john oates

psycho killer by talking heads

head over heels/broken by tears for fears

house of the rising sun by the animals

come as you are by nirvana

hysteria by muse

risk by deftones

cherry waves by deftones

somebody told me by the killers

back to me by the all-american rejects

for you the moon by basement

today by smashing pumpkins

drive by incubus

hearing damage by thom yorke

weird fishes/arpeggi by radiohead

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

i feel like he’s the type of guy to happily listen to everyone else’s music, and he doesn’t really complain about it either. but if we’re talking about the main music he listens to on his own, he really likes alternative/indie-pop, and generally listens to upbeat, feel-good songs. he kinda discovered some of the more indie artists and songs when he overheard it playing from vylad’s room one day.

here’s some examples of his favorites that he listens to:

tongue tied by grouphouse 

everybody talks by neon trees

she’s kinda hot by 5 seconds of summer

electric love by børns 

out of my league by fitz and the tantrums

misery by maroon 5

animal by neon trees

electric feel by mgmt

my kind of woman by mac demarco

honeypie by jawney

sit next to me by foster the people

lover is a day by cuco 

honey by johnny balik 

sink into the floor by feng suave

gimme love by joji 

the less i know the better by tame impala

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

yet another one with diverse music taste. he’ll go from hip hop and rock to alternative to cunty kpop songs to cute kpop songs and then to theatre songs. i’m not sure if i’ve mentioned it before but i really love the idea that travis not only listens to kpop but memorizes and practiced the dances in his room. i believe i got the idea from @milkeywaylady on tiktok lol.

his list is even less coherent than laurance's. but anyways, here’s some examples for him:

hey ya! by outkast

promiscuous (feat. timbaland) by nelly furtado

the way i are by timbaland

heaven and back by chase atlantic

me and your mama by childish gambino 

life of the party by the weeknd

selfish by pnb rock

into your heart by trevor something

plastic beach by gorrillaz

alone, together by the strokes

float on by modest mouse

run devil run by girls’ generation

너 때문에 미쳐 (you drive me crazy) by t-ara

pop! by nayeon

attention by new jeans

try again by d.ear and jaehyun

bohemian rhapsody by queen (LMAOO you can’t tell me he wouldn’t know all the lyrics)

sincerely, me from dear evan hansen

a guy that i’d kinda be into from be more chill

first burn from hamilton

[ann-lol]

What happened to Alden?? I mean seriously where did he go? He was such a prominent character in the series to the point that he got a book pretty much dedicated to himself! He was Sophie’s number one person to go to. Sophie thought of him as a father figure, as did Keefe. He was this nurturing, kind, caring soul that everyone loved. Some may argue that he isn’t a good dad but compared to OTHER parents (I’m pretty we all know who I’m referring to) he is actually a really good parent, not only to his kids but to kids in general! And then after Neverseen… he’s gone. He’s BARELY in the books after that. And for SOME reason Shannon decided that whenever he does occasionally show up, those scenes need to be controversial.

In Nightfall when Sophie found Amy, Alden literally used drugs on Sophie knowing full well how freaking traumatized she is by drugs. She won’t even take sedatives to sleep! Why Shannon??

And in the short story for Flashback Alden asks Keefe to be at the tribunal to basically make sure that Fitz doesn’t lash out on Sophie due to his temper. This has caused so much Alden discourse- I’ll be honest, I was very disappointed in Alden for this. Not because he sought Keefe’s help to regulate Fitz’s emotions (even though he could just give Fitz a serious sit down about that) but I was mad about WHY he did it. He wanted to make Keefe realize that Fitz and Sophie liked each other and that Keefe should, as he said, “Let them be happy”. Alden, that is not your place. I understand where you might be coming from, and you were technically right, they did like each other, but still. You can’t do that. But I personally do not hate Alden for this, because this one little mistake can’t erase all the beautiful, kind, and sweet things he has done (especially FOR Keefe). But I do hold him accountable for it because I believe that that was wrong of him to do. But in the fandom (mainly on insta and Pinterest) everyone hates him now!!

SHANNON! Bring back my Alden! Make him relevant again pleaseeee! But not in a way that will cause him more discourse! 😭

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Falling Slowly

Summary; Everyone told you to stay away from big, bad Eddie Munson.

You were a good girl and he was in some people's minds, the devil.

But the pull to Eddie was too strong and you were powerless to resist.

Warnings; Older Eddie, Minors DNI. 18+, mentions of sex, soft Eddie, fluff, minimal angst.

The reader is 26, and Eddie is 40.

If you enjoyed this pls consider reblogging, liking, etc. It's very much appreciated 😘

❤️

I don't give anyone permission to copy, reuse or repost my work.

❤️

Everyone told you to stay away from Eddie Munson, he was sin, plain and simple.

"Oh he's bad news don't you know? The attitude, the constant women, stay away my dear if you know what's good for you" that was a rant from your old neighbour " Mrs Fitz who knew all the gossip on the streets.

You had seen him around a few times, he had women falling at his feet, drawn to the don't fuck with me attitude he portrayed.

The tattoos, brown hair in a low bun and those big brown eyes and dimples made your heart skip a beat.

Nobody had ever made you feel like that, so intensely and who set every part of you alight with longing.

You'd watch him from afar, only for him to catch your eye and a little smirk would cross his face, a quirk of his eyebrow that was practically taunting you to come closer.

The first time he talked to you is when you were at the grocery store deciding on what Ben and Jerry's flavour you wanted.

Something fluttered in your stomach as you caught a hint of cologne, leather and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke.

"Personally the cookie dough is my favourite" you turn around and Eddie is staring down at you, his big brown eyes dancing in amusement.

"Oh, hi" Every inch of you is tingling at how close he is to you. He reaches behind you and grabs a tub.

"You know I've caught you looking looking over at me in the garage a few times, come on over and say hello princess. I don't bite...much" he winks and walks away and there's an aching longing stirring in your stomach as you watch him go.

The encounters got more frequent, and more teasing from Eddie and yourself ( which surprised you)

Your next door neighbour, your friends warned he was just after one thing.

They didn't realise how much you craved that one thing, you weren't stupid. You knew what Eddie wanted and you wanted it just as much.

Everyone told you to stay away from him.

Yet you didn't. After much deliberation you had finally decided to take a risk and went to the garage where Eddie worked.

You both knew what was going to happen, the tension was unbearable and only sated the moment his lips met yours.

It was hot and mindblowing, Eddie driving orgasm after orgasm out of you as he fucked you relentlessly.

It was just as incredible for him and that's why you two met up again and again.

The sex was incredible, Eddie pleasured you in ways you had never even dreamed of.

You didn't care what anyone said about him and looked past all the rumours and hearsay.

"You really should stay away from me Princess," he tells you one night as you are entwined in his sheets, head resting on his chest.

This makes you shoot up and gaze at him nervous, stomach sinking. His demeanour is brooding, playful energy gone and his eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

"I don't want to. Do you want me to?" you murmur and his eyes soften as he looks down at you.

"No, no I really fucking don't but people fare finding out about us and I'm the devil trying to corrupt the sweet, good girl" you roll your eyes.

"What we do is no one's business, Eddie, I'm a grown-ass woman and make my own decisions on who I want to be with and I want you"

The tenseness that surrounds him vanishes and he pulls you close to him, chest to chest and into a searing kiss.

❤️

Eddie had you settled on the table, his head buried between your thighs, you moan and tangle your hands in his hair.

"You're divine" he murmurs and stands up, pulling you close to him, taut against his strong body.

"Beautiful" he groans and presses tender kisses over your neck, to your cheeks.

Something had shifted between you and Eddie, nights previously only about sex had changed. There was still a lot of sex but a lot of talking, of laughter and silliness.

Deep discussions and tender moments between you two that occurred more and more often.

Eddie held you against his chest as he read to you from his or your favourite books, flowers given when you met on a few instances, sweet, thoughtful gestures. Learning to play the guitar from Eddie who patiently taught you, bonding over a shared love of horror movies.

Of course you were falling in love with Eddie, it was hard not to but the feeling of dread in your gut persisted that if he knew about these feelings it would cause him to pull away didn't shift.

Things were different though, deeper, more...

He kisses from the apex of your thigh all the way up your body, over your breasts and neck, leaving love bites and you moaning in pleasure.

"What do you want sweetheart? Want to worship you princess" you kiss him tenderly and look deep into his eyes.

"You, I just want you" his bug brown eyes lock onto yours as he sheaths inside you. The sex is slow, tender and not once does his gaze leave yours.

When you both reach your climax his lips press to your forehead and you lay in a post-coital glow that leaves you breathless, warm and with the realisation that you truly love Eddie Munson.

❤️

Eddie didn't expect to fall in love with you, he avoided that shit like the plague but boy he fell hard for you.

He assumed you'd be a fling just like the others, you'd both move on in a few weeks or he would pull away before things had any chance of being serious.

That's what he usually did and yet the more he got to know you, the more time you spent together he began to fall for you.

At first, he tried to resist the feeling because it scared the shit out of him but the thought of distancing himself from you, ending things made his heart clench painfully.

Serious, rip his heart out kinda pain.

The truth was he thought about you all the time, missed you when you were elsewhere, his pillow smelt of your perfume and he would bury his face into it, inhaling the sweetness, he adored kissing you, making you laugh, hearing your moans or the way you said his name was fucking heavenly.

He was falling deeply, head over heels.

How the fuck was he going to tell you? He had never had this conversation before, never been in love with anyone.

It's not like he was worried you didn't feel the same way, he knew you did. It was more the fact of saying I love you to someone for the first time.

Three words but to him, they were more fucking terrifying than anything he ever encountered in The Upside Down.

You're at his trailer now, dancing along to a song on the radio and he's watching you no doubt with the happiest smile on his face.

You look so fucking cute and he captures you in his arms and kisses you until you're laughing and cuddled into his arms.

You peer up at him, your beautiful eyes full of happiness, shining with adoration.

"I need to tell you something princess" he's nervous as shit and has no idea what he is going to say. All he knows is he needs to say it because the thought of you not being in his life is his worst nightmare.

Not knowing how much he loves you and how you've changed his life in so many ways, that he's the happiest he's been in his life.

"What?" you take his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, it gives him the courage to speak up.

"I love you, his voice is shaky at first, then grows stronger as he repeats himself. I'm so in love with you. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I need you to know how fucking special you are, that I want to be with you always, you're who I want to be with for the rest of my life"

The look on your face is something he will never forget, sheer happiness radiating from you.

"I love you too Edward Munson" Those three words might have terrified him to say out loud but hearing them is a different matter.

The wave of ecstasy he feels is amazing. His lips press to yours and he whispers he loves you over and over again.

Huh? Maybe those three words aren't so scary after all.

[blessedbyahuntress]

Just the Eldest Foster

Chapter One: Excuse My Sister, She's a Telepath. Now, What Were You Saying?

Warnings: Some swearing. Fitz

Word Count: 1.3k

“Miss Foster!” 

You sucked in a breath, going to yank your sister’s earbuds out by the cords before your teacher, Mr. Sweeney, could. 

It didn’t stop Mr. Sweeney from berating Sophie, though. “Have you decided that you’re too smart to pay attention to this information?”

You winced when you heard your sister’s mumbled response. “No, Mr. Sweeney.”

You were a year older than Sophie, but were often mistaken for the younger sibling, being a few centimeters shorter than her. Yet you made up for it in spirit- or, in many people’s opinion, annoyingness. You tried to stand out- hence the pastel clothes- and you often stood up for your sister when she got picked on. 

“Then perhaps you can explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?” Mr. Sweeney asked.

You put your hands on your hips, jutting out your chin. “Then perhaps you can explain why you’re bugging her about music instead of teaching? Though I highly doubt anyone here would like to continue listening to your awful lesson, so by all means, keep going.”

A chorus of ooo’s echoed throughout the high school seniors. Mr. Sweeney’s nostrils flared. 

“Well then, Miss Y/N Foster, if my lesson is that boring, why don’t you explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we’ve studied?” His voice was dripping with ice. 

You smirked. “Gladly,” you said, fixing your teacher with your oddly colored eyes- one brown, the other blue with silver flecks. 

You remembered every fact you had seen on the information card in front of the display, and you recited everything you could think of. You didn’t have photographic memory like Sophie, but you did have eidetic memory- you could recall an image from memory with high precision, for at least a brief amount of time.

Mr. Sweeney scowled, and Sophie grabbed your forearm to get you to stop talking. Satisfied that you would stop shut up now, your teacher stalked away.

“You need to stop-” Sophie started.

“Nice job, superfreaks,” Garwin Chang sneered as tried to push you out of his way, only to frown when you didn’t budge. “Maybe they’ll write another article about you two. ‘Child Prodigy Teaches Class About the Lame-o-saurus.’” 

You shoved him with one hand, smirking when he stumbled back a step. “It’s Lambeosaurus. See, this is why you didn’t get into Yale.”

You kept smirking as he grabbed the collar of your shirt, lifting you off the ground. “You little-”

And then Garwin released his grip, causing you to fall on your bottom. You looked up in confusion, only to see him holding his hand to his eye. 

Nearly all of your attention was focused on the boy standing next to you. He was tall with dark hair, one fist clenched, the other gripping yesterday’s newspaper- the one with you and Sophie’s photo on the front. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you not to assault a woman?” The boy shot you a glance, but you completely missed it, a smile flitting across your face as you watched Garwin’s reaction.

Garwin huffed and turned on his heels. “This isn’t over, odd eyes.”

As he stalked away, your rescuer turned toward you fully. His eyes met yours for the first time, and his widened. “You really do have odd eyes.”

You scowled and looked at Sophie, but your sister was just standing there, unhelpfully making heart eyes at the boy. 

The boy shook his head, as if clearing unwanted thoughts from his mind. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” you lied. “I’m used to it.” 

The boy gave you a sympathetic look, offering you a hand. You finally realized you’d still been sitting on the ground. The boy gently pulled you to your feet, and you dusted off your jeans.

“Thanks,” you murmured.

“No problem,” he replied, looking between you and Sophie. He pointed to the newspaper. “Is this you?”

You raised your eyebrows at Sophie as she nodded. She looked so starstruck, you nearly snickered. 

“Yep,” you said simply.

“I thought so.” This time he addressed Sophie. “I didn’t realize your eyes were brown.”

“Uh… yeah. Why?” Your sister looked rather puzzled.

He shrugged. “No reason,” he said.

You had the feeling that you knew what Sophie was about to say, and you made a move to put a hand over her mouth, but not before she blurted, “are you in this class?”

You gave an exasperated sigh. Of course he wasn’t in your class!

But he only smiled. “No.” You really wanted to place his accent, but you just couldn’t. 

He pointed to an Albertosaurus. “Tell me something. Do you really think that’s what they looked like? It’s a little absurd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sophie said at the same time as you said, “definitely.”

Your sister turned to you, eyebrows furrowed. “Why? What do you think they looked like?” She asked.

Before you could think of a response- to be frank, you couldn’t think of a reason, it just didn’t seem right to picture a creature as ugly as that existed- the boy cut in with a laugh. “Never mind. I’ll let you get back to your class. It was nice to meet you Sophie, Y/N.”

He turned to leave, but two classes of small children barged into the fossil exhibit. You watched a look of pain cross both of Sophie’s and the strange boy’s face. Rushing over and rubbing your sister’s back with comforting circles, you watched the boy’s reaction. 

“Did you just… hear that?” He asked in a soft voice. 

You knew what he was talking about- Sophie had told you about the voices, about hearing the thoughts of everyone except you. 

Sophie paled. 

“Who are you?” You demanded. “I thought only my sister could hear the thoughts of others.”

You reached out and gave Sophie’s hand a squeeze. 

“So you did.” He leaned in closer. “Are you a Telepath?” 

“Don’t react, don’t react, don’t react,” you repeated under your breath, clutching Sophie’s hand tighter as if you could will her not to flinch.

She did.

“You are!” The boy whispered. “I can’t believe it!” 

Still holding your sister’s hand, you started dragging her toward the exit. Sophie didn’t protest; she seemed frozen with shock. 

“Wait!” The boy said. “It’s okay! You don’t have to be afraid. I’m one too.”

He glanced at you for a split second, and his eyes conveyed his confliction. 

“My… name’s… Fitz.” He couldn’t seem to speak without hesitating under your sharp multicolored glare. 

“Well, Fitz.” Your voice was almost as piercing as your eyes. “We’ll be leaving now.”

That seemed to snap all of said hesitation away. He took a few steps toward you and grabbed your forearm. You looked down at his hand in both uncomfortability and slight anger. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m here to help you. We’ve been looking for you for thirteen years.”

You felt your eyes widen and your mouth open to ask one of the questions swirling around your mind. 

But then it was Sophie’s turn to drag you through the doors. 

“Sophie, Y/N! Come back!” Fitz shouted. The footsteps that sounded behind you indicated that the boy was following you. 

You had always been the more athletic sibling, and soon it was you pulling Sophie along. 

Yet you could hear Fitz gaining on you, so you poured on the speed. 

You felt Sophie freeze as you were halfway across a crosswalk, making you whip your head toward the sound of screeching tires. Shit.

You were surely going to die.

[crippling-pages]

random kotlc headcanons :p

*clears throat* *puts fancy suit on* *pulls out whiteboard* @swans-chirping-in-the-distance you wanted headcanons, right? sooooooooo

Tam wears glasses, mainly to see things farther away better. He didn't know it until sometime during Flashback, he just thought everyone sees stuff that way. Tiergan helped him figure out that he needed them and helped get the perfect pair.

Biana buys Tam flower bouquets. He mentioned that he really liked flowers, and the next day she comes up to the door of Solreef, and blushing very, very hard, she gives Tam the bouquet. Linh had to spend a full 15 minutes with a dazed Tam.

When Keefe comes back from the Forbidden Cities, he uses all these weird slang words. One time, he told Councilor Emery that "You have no rizz, man. If you wanna become the alpha, you need to up your aura."

Emery is scarred for life after that exchange.

Sophie is a Red stan. She doesn't listen to Taylor Swift often, but she is forever a fan of the album Red.

When Fitz was looking for Sophie, he found a video of one of those kids baking competitions, and he was just amazed. It's how he started to get into baking.

Tam and Dex have this amazing friendship no one really knows about. It's not like they kept it a secret, it's just no one really notices either of them.

Tam can be chaotic as heck when he wants to be. Most of the time, he's the quiet and chill yet quite comfortable introvert. Though if he's got the right energy, BOOM he's as crazy as the triplets with enough energy to make the world explode.

One time, Dex asked Tam to watch the triplets (feeling pretty bad because the triplets are you know, the triplets) for him and his parents because they all were out that day, and when he came back home, they were asleep. And they stayed asleep, for hours.

It was one of the best days ever in the Dizznee household.

The reason Tam got them to sleep was because his chaotic side clicked in. It was a hour and a half game of tag.

(It was only that one time though. Next time Tam babysat, the triplets were prepared).

Even after making up with Tam, Linh still didn't really trust Rayni. But for every little conversation they have, they both start to ease up on each other.

One morning, when everyone's up for breakfast, Linh comes down and Rayni grins and goes, "What's up, Water-Gir?" and everyone is doing a double take because Linh was gonna kill Rayni. But it gets worse when Linh replies, also grinning, with "Good morning, RayRay."

Everyone else almost had a heart attack because it seemed like yesterday they were about to kill each other.

At one point, Keefe cracks a joke about Tam having a crush on Rayni (before he knew about Tam and Biana already dating), and Tam says, "Okay, for one: She's like, 25 and I'm like 16, I think, so that's disgusting, and secondly: Rayni is old and ugly, and-"

But he doesn't get to finish because Rayni hears and runs downstairs, pissed and yelling "WHAT THE HECK TAM?! WELL, AT LEAST I DON'T USE THE OVERUSED SHADY AND EMO IMAGE" and then that gets Tam pissed, so then there's this whole argument that goes on for about 10 minutes.

Basically, Tam and Rayni are siblings. Rayni is the oldest sister, and Tam is the annoying little brother.

Marella and Tam have gossip sessions during lunch; they also just have this really great friendship. (And by friendship, I mean they each have blackmail on each other and are forced to interact so the other doesn't spill their secrets).

Keefoster and Tiana double dates :>

At Solreef, Tiergan has this huge library, filled with elven books and even human books.

Tam has read almost every book in there. His favorites are the fantasy books.

His favorite book series ever is Percy Jackson. He's read every single PJO book in the library.

When Sophie finds out, oh boy do they geek out about it.

Forkle set them up on a sleepover one time, because "You kids need to be kids" or something like that.

None of them expected to have much fun, but they did. They even made a plan that once a week, at someones house they'd meet up and have a sleepover or just have fun.

TA-DA!!!!!!! KOTLC HEADCANONS YAYYYYYYYYY!!! Most of the are about Tam but Tam's amazing so its fine <3

hope you enjoyed! <3