#but those of us who were outsiders looking in at the things he did id recommend staying out of it for the most part

[jetblkhotelmirror]

hey friendly reminder that as much as bob bryar was an asshole and a racist and was not deserving of respect what so ever, mental health isnt a joke and neither is death. i dont even care if youre personally PRIVATELY happy hes dead, just dont make jokes about his mental health, you never know how many good, kind, worthy people will hear them and think that you feel that way about them too. i hope everyone impacted by his death is able to safely heal from it, and i hope that anyone struggling with themselves is able to find the strength and courage to ask for help.

[goldfades]

friday night lights | JOE BURROW⁹ [010]

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MASTERLIST

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.6k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested -> how joe and reader met? we know they met in high school, sophomore year but id (and i’m sure everyone else😅) would love a little flashback chapter!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | descriptions of partying, underage drinking, kinda slowburn? shy girl x football player trope, maisie being protective, nothing else!

The first time you met Joe Burrow, he wasn’t Joe Burrow, not yet. He was just a tall, lanky sophomore quarterback with an arm everyone talked about and a quietness that made him feel like a walking question mark. Athens High was small enough that everyone knew everyone—names, faces, family stories that spread like wildfire—but Joe? He wasn’t loud enough to grab the attention of half the school, not until football season started.

You were sitting on the bleachers during a pep rally, Maisie beside you, her commentary on everything from the band’s uneven tempo to the cheerleaders’ synchronized high kicks keeping you thoroughly entertained. The players were being introduced one by one, each jogging onto the gym floor to varying levels of applause. When they called Joe’s name, the cheer was louder, a steady roar that vibrated through the walls, and you found yourself craning to see what the fuss was about.

There he was. Light blond hair a little messy, a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, hands tucked into the pockets of his letterman jacket. He didn’t wave or puff out his chest like the others; he just gave the crowd a small nod before retreating to the back of the lineup. Something about him—his quiet confidence, maybe—caught your attention, and you didn’t quite know why.

“You’re staring,” Maisie muttered, not looking up from the doodle she was adding to the corner of her math notebook.

“I’m not,” you whispered back, even as your gaze lingered a second too long.

That was the beginning.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later, at a biology lab you’d been forced to pair up in, that he really spoke to you. Joe wasn’t your usual seatmate, but he slid into the stool beside you with a polite nod, his long legs awkwardly folding beneath the too-short lab table. The two of you were tasked with dissecting something unreasonably gross—a frog, maybe? You couldn’t remember now. What you did remember was Joe, his steady hands cutting through the assignment with precision, and the way he chuckled softly when you accidentally dropped a scalpel.

“You’re not a fan of this, huh?” he asked, his voice low but teasing.

You wrinkled your nose. “Not all of us dream of gutting things for a living.”

“I’m not gutting anything for a living.” He smirked, a tiny flash of mischief in his otherwise calm demeanor. “I throw footballs.”

It wasn’t the smoothest line, but it was enough to make you laugh, and that laugh seemed to encourage him.

From then on, he started showing up more. A quick wave in the hallway, a quiet “Hey” as he passed you in class, and the occasional comment during shared group projects. It was nothing monumental, just small moments that began to stack, like bricks in a wall you couldn’t stop building.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Maisie warned one afternoon as the two of you sat on the steps outside the school. “Guys like him don’t date girls like us. They go for easy cheerleaders, not girls who can barely talk during a book report.”

“I can talk during a book report,” you shot back, even though it wasn’t entirely true.

Maisie raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “I’m just saying, keep it realistic. He’s an athlete. You’re… you.”

You knew Maisie didn't mean to be discouraging, she was always the realistic one between the two of you. You watched rom-com's, and was a hopeless romantic—and Maisie, well... she wasn't the romantic type. She meant well, she just didn't want to see her best friend get her heart shattered by a stupid (her words, not yours) blonde quarterback.

But despite her skepticism, you couldn’t stop yourself. Each time Joe said your name or offered a lopsided grin in passing, the crush rooted itself deeper. It was innocent, for now, a quiet hope you kept tucked away like a secret note in your locker.

And then one day, Joe did something that changed everything. Something so small, so simple, that it left you reeling. He stopped you in the hallway between classes, his book bag slung over one shoulder, his blue eyes holding yours for just a beat too long.

“You going to the game Friday?” he asked.

You blinked, startled. “Uh… maybe?”

“You should.” He shrugged, shifting on his feet. “It’s gonna be a good one.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, your heart thudding in your chest like a drumline warming up before a halftime show.

The walk to Maisie’s car after school was peppered with her usual commentary about the injustices of teenage life. Something about how the cafeteria's pizza was an actual health violation, how Mr. Harper’s pop quizzes were a form of psychological torture, and how group projects should be banned by law.

You let her vent, only half-listening, your mind replaying Joe’s voice: “You should.” It wasn’t like he’d asked you on a date or anything, but it was the first time he’d gone out of his way to talk to you outside of class. The possibility of seeing him again on Friday made your chest buzz, but Maisie? Convincing her was another story entirely.

“So,” you began casually as you slid into the passenger seat, trying to find the right approach. “Are you going to the game Friday?”

Maisie turned the key in the ignition, her ancient Honda sputtering to life with a groan. She shot you a sidelong glance. “Why? Are you going?”

“Maybe,” you said, a little too quickly.

Her eyebrows rose as she backed out of the parking spot. “What’s this about? You hate football. You called it ‘organized concussion practice’ last month.”

You shrugged, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “I don’t hate it. And it’s not like I’m going for the game. I just thought it might be fun, you know? Something different.”

Maisie narrowed her eyes, the car bouncing slightly as it hit a pothole. “Different like sitting in the freezing cold with half the school, pretending to care about a sport we don’t understand?”

“You don’t have to pretend to care.” You grinned, nudging her arm. “You can sit there and make fun of people like you always do. It’ll be fun. Besides, you never know, you might actually enjoy it.”

She snorted. “The only thing I’d enjoy is the halftime show. And even that’s debatable.”

“Come on,” you said, dragging out the words in a way you knew would get under her skin. “We haven’t gone to a single game this year. Don’t you think it’s time to show a little school spirit?”

“I have plenty of spirit,” Maisie deadpanned. “It’s just not for sports. My spirit is reserved for things that matter, like protests and pizza Fridays.”

You groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. “Maisie, please. Just this once?”

She glanced at you, her expression softening ever so slightly. Maisie might’ve been a certified cynic, but she wasn’t immune to the rare moments when you genuinely wanted something.

“Why are you so set on this?” she asked finally, her tone skeptical but not dismissive.

You hesitated, the truth bubbling at the edge of your lips. “I don’t know. It just… feels like something I should do.”

Her eyes flicked to you briefly before returning to the road. She let out a dramatic sigh, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. “Fine. I’ll go. But if anyone spills nacho cheese on me or tries to talk to me about touchdowns, I’m leaving.”

“Deal.” You grinned, relief flooding through you.

Maisie muttered something under her breath about friendship being a burden, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. You knew she’d show up in her usual no-nonsense way, probably armed with a thermos of hot cocoa and a thousand sarcastic comments, but she’d be there.

And as the two of you drove home, her complaining fading into the background, you couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, Friday night would be more than you’d ever expected.

┈┈┈

The bleachers were packed, the air alive with the buzz of small-town Friday night energy. The faint smell of concession stand hot dogs wafted through the air, mingling with the sharp chill of early autumn. You tugged your jacket tighter around you, glancing at Maisie, who sat next to you with an impressive scowl already forming on her face.

“See?” she said, motioning to the field where the players were warming up. “Organized concussion practice. Case in point.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled despite yourself. “You promised you’d keep the snark to a minimum.”

Maisie held up her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave. But if someone tries to start a chant near me, all bets are off.”

The two of you settled in with a group from your biology class—a group you hadn’t hung out with outside of school before but were surprisingly easy to be around. They handed out popcorn, passed around a bag of Sour Patch Kids, and made corny jokes that Maisie laughed at more than she’d ever admit. Even you found yourself relaxing, letting the game wash over you as something fun instead of a chore.

“Okay, what’s happening now?” Maisie leaned over to whisper as the players jogged off the field and the marching band took their place.

“Halftime,” you explained. “This is the part you said you might like.”

She raised an eyebrow, watching as the band launched into a spirited rendition of some pop song from two summers ago. “Well,” she said slowly, “it’s not bad. Kind of catchy.”

You grinned, nudging her. “See? Told you this wouldn’t be so terrible.”

“Don’t get cocky,” she warned, but there was no venom in her tone.

By the fourth quarter, even Maisie seemed invested, clapping lightly when your school scored and muttering curses when the refs made questionable calls. You didn’t know what surprised you more—that Maisie was actually having fun or that you were, too.

But as the clock ticked down to the final minutes, you couldn’t help but scan the sidelines, searching for the number nine jersey. Joe had been on fire all night, his throws sharp and precise, his presence commanding even from this far up in the stands.

When the buzzer sounded, signaling your school’s victory, the bleachers erupted in cheers. Maisie rolled her eyes at the whooping and hollering but clapped politely.

“Alright,” she said, standing and stretching. “You got your football experience. Can we go now?”

“Just a sec,” you said, your gaze locked on the field.

You spotted Joe near the fifty-yard line, surrounded by teammates and fans congratulating him. But it wasn’t the crowd that caught your attention—it was her.

A girl with shiny brown hair and a bright smile leaned in close to Joe, saying something you couldn’t hear from this distance. She had that effortless kind of prettiness that made you feel frumpy in comparison, and the familiarity with which she touched his arm sent a pang through your chest.

Then he hugged her.

It wasn’t a quick, congratulatory pat on the back, either. It was one of those hugs that lingered, the kind that looked like it belonged in a rom-com montage.

Your stomach dropped.

“Hey,” Maisie said, nudging you. “You good?”

You forced yourself to nod, blinking rapidly against the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s go.”

Maisie frowned, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push. As the two of you made your way down the bleachers, you couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Joe was still standing there, his arm slung casually around the girl’s shoulders, his grin easy and warm.

It shouldn’t hurt this much, you told yourself. He wasn’t yours. Not really.

But as Maisie led you out of the stadium, chattering about the game, you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest—the kind of ache that only comes when you realize you care about someone more than they care about you.

The girls from your biology class caught up with you just as you and Maisie were about to leave the parking lot. They were breathless and giggling, their faces flushed from the cool night air and the excitement of the game.

“Hey!” one of them called, waving you down. “There’s a party at Megan’s house—like, right now. You guys should totally come!”

Maisie raised an eyebrow, already halfway in the car. “A party? At Megan’s? Isn’t she the one who turned the chem lab into a glitter bomb last year?”

“That was iconic,” one of the girls said with a laugh. “Come on, it’ll be fun! You can’t just go home after a game like that.”

You hesitated. Parties weren’t really your thing, and you could already see Maisie gearing up for a sarcastic excuse to say no. But something in you—the part still stinging from seeing Joe hug that girl—felt like rebelling. Like shaking off the evening’s disappointment and pretending, for a little while, that you weren’t someone who usually played it safe.

“Why the hell not?” you said, surprising even yourself.

Maisie froze, her hand on the car door. “Excuse me, what?”

“Come on,” you said, grabbing her arm. “Let’s go. It’ll be fun!”

Maisie groaned but let you pull her along. “You owe me for this.”

Megan’s house was already packed by the time you arrived, music thumping loud enough to shake the front porch. The air was thick with the smell of beer and cheap perfume, and the living room was crowded with people laughing, dancing, and shouting over each other.

It started with a drink—just one, you told yourself, to loosen up. But one turned into two, and before you knew it, the edges of the world felt softer, the music louder, and your inhibitions practically nonexistent.

You danced in the middle of the living room, your arms thrown around the girls from your biology class, laughing so hard your sides ached. Maisie watched from the couch, shaking her head but smiling faintly at your antics.

The party had only grown wilder as the night went on. The living room was now packed shoulder-to-shoulder, the music loud enough to make the floor vibrate under your feet. You were too buzzed to care about the sweaty press of bodies or the occasional elbow that jabbed you in the side.

Maisie was still parked in her corner, sipping from a plastic cup and looking suspiciously at anyone who came too close. Your biology classmates were dancing near the kitchen, laughing so loudly you could hear them over the music.

And then you saw him.

Joe stood by the far wall with a cluster of his teammates, their broad shoulders and easy grins making them look like they owned the room. He was in the middle of laughing at something, his head tilted back and eyes crinkled in that stupidly charming way. You should’ve looked away, walked the other direction, anything.

But you didn’t.

You blinked hard, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, and did the only thing that made sense in the moment—you grabbed another shot from a passing tray and threw it back. The burn of the alcohol made you wince, but it dulled the edges of your hurt just enough to push you back into the safety of your friends.

Hours later, the party had become a blur. Your legs felt like jelly, the walls swayed slightly every time you moved, and even Maisie’s sharp voice sounded muffled through the haze.

“I think I need the bathroom,” you slurred to no one in particular, pushing off the couch and wobbling on unsteady feet.

“You need to sit down,” Maisie snapped, grabbing your arm.

“I’ll be fine,” you mumbled, waving her off. “Just… the bathroom.”

You stumbled into the hallway, squinting at the doors as if one of them might magically open and guide you inside. Instead, you bumped into something solid—someone, actually.

“Oh, crap, sorry—”

It was Joe.

His hands caught your arms gently to steady you, his expression shifting from surprise to concern the moment he got a good look at you. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You yanked your arm away, wobbling but determined to keep your balance. “I’m fine,” you muttered, glaring up at him.

Joe frowned, his eyebrows knitting together. “You don’t look fine. What’s going on?”

“Nothing that’s any of your business,” you snapped, stumbling past him.

But instead of letting you go, he followed, his concern overriding any annoyance he might have felt at your tone. “You’re drunk,” he said plainly, his voice quieter now. “Where are you trying to go?”

You paused, the fog in your brain making it hard to come up with a snappy reply. “Bathroom,” you finally said, crossing your arms.

Joe nodded, stepping ahead of you. “Come on, I’ll help you find it.”

You wanted to argue, to push him away and tell him you didn’t need his help, but your legs were too wobbly, and the spinning hallway wasn’t exactly making things easier.

He walked a few paces ahead, glancing back every so often to make sure you were following. When you stumbled again, he sighed and offered his arm.

“Just take it,” he said, not unkindly. “You’re gonna fall on your face if you don’t.”

Grudgingly, you grabbed his arm, leaning into his steady warmth as he led you toward the bathroom door.

“Why are you being nice to me?” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes.

Joe paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “Because I care about you, even when you’re mad at me for no reason,” he said softly.

You didn’t have a reply for that. Instead, you pushed the door open and stumbled inside, closing it behind you before he could say anything else.

And for the first time all night, you let yourself breathe.

The bathroom was a blur of fluorescent light and tiled walls, and you were grateful for the brief reprieve from the chaotic party outside. Splashing cold water on your face helped a little, but the dizziness still lingered, and standing upright felt like a Herculean effort.

You took a deep breath, steadied yourself, and opened the door, stepping out with as much dignity as you could muster—which, unfortunately, wasn’t much. Your foot caught the edge of the rug, and before you could even process what was happening, gravity had its way.

But you didn’t hit the ground.

Joe caught you, his hands firm on your arms as he steadied you. “Whoa, easy,” he said, his voice low and calm. “I told you you’d fall if you weren’t careful.”

You glared up at him, more out of stubbornness than actual anger. “I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.” He didn’t let go right away, his eyes scanning your face like he was checking for signs of serious damage. “Come on, you need to drink some water.”

“I don’t need anything,” you shot back, trying to pull away.

Joe’s grip loosened, but he didn’t back down. Instead, he reached for a nearby table and grabbed a half-full bottle of water, holding it out to you. “Just drink it. Please.”

You crossed your arms, teetering slightly on your feet. “I said I’m fine.”

“Y/N.” His tone was firmer now, his brow furrowing in that way that made him look unfairly mature for a high schooler. “You’re going to feel worse if you don’t drink this.”

You stared at the bottle like it was some kind of enemy, but the dizziness was getting worse, and deep down, you knew he was right. With a heavy sigh, you snatched it from his hand.

“Fine,” you muttered, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

“More than that,” Joe said, crossing his arms as he watched you.

You gave him an exaggerated eye roll but obliged, taking a few bigger gulps. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he replied dryly, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Before you could respond with another sarcastic remark, a familiar voice cut through the noise.

“There you are!” Maisie appeared, her expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“I’m fine,” you said, though the wobble in your step betrayed you as you tried to stand straighter.

Maisie’s eyes narrowed as she glanced between you and Joe. “We’re leaving. Now.”

Joe nodded, stepping back slightly but keeping his gaze on you. “Good. She needs to get home.”

“Don’t tell me what I already know, Burrow,” Maisie snapped, looping her arm around yours to steady you.

Joe ignored her jab, his focus still on you. “Get home safe, okay?”

You hesitated, the mix of hurt and exhaustion making your chest tighten. But something in his tone softened the edges of your frustration.

“Thanks,” you murmured quietly, avoiding his eyes.

Maisie tugged you toward the door, muttering something under her breath about quarterbacks and their egos. And as the two of you stepped out into the cool night air, you couldn’t help but glance back once, catching Joe’s silhouette in the doorway before Maisie pulled you forward, back into the safety of the night.

The weekend had come and gone, leaving behind a swirl of emotions and half-remembered moments that made your stomach twist uncomfortably. Every time you thought about the party—about Joe, specifically—you felt a warm flush crawl up your neck, a mixture of embarrassment and residual irritation.

By Monday morning, you were determined to put it behind you. High school wasn’t exactly forgiving, and you didn’t need rumors or awkwardness to complicate things further. But as you moved through the crowded hallways, your resolve was tested.

“Hey, Y/N.”

That voice was unmistakable, and it froze you in your tracks. You turned to see Joe, casually leaning against a locker like he hadn’t caused your entire weekend to spiral into emotional chaos.

“What do you want?” you asked, crossing your arms defensively.

Joe blinked, surprised by the sharpness in your tone, but he quickly recovered, his calm demeanor intact. “Nothing. Just saying hi. How was your weekend?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Are you serious?”

He tilted his head slightly, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Yeah… why wouldn’t I be?”

It was the last straw. The memory of him laughing with that girl at the game—hugging her—flashed in your mind, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out.

“Why don’t you ask your girl instead?” Your voice was biting, louder than you intended, and a couple of students walking by glanced over curiously.

Joe straightened, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“The girl from the game,” you snapped. “You were all over her. Maybe you should talk to her instead of bothering me.”

For a moment, he just stared at you, the hallway noise fading into the background. Then, to your utter disbelief, his lips curved into a slight smirk.

“That?” he said, his tone dripping with casual dismissal. “That wasn’t anything. My teammates set it up, said she wanted to meet me. It was awkward as hell.”

You blinked, thrown off balance. “Oh.”

His smirk deepened, and his eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “You got all worked up over that, huh?”

“I wasn’t—” you started, but the words died on your tongue. You couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and your silence only seemed to amuse him more.

Joe leaned in just a fraction, his voice low and teasing. “You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous, you know that?”

“I wasn’t jealous,” you muttered, your face heating up.

“Sure you weren’t.”

Before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the start of class. Joe didn’t wait for you to gather your dignity; he just fell into step beside you as if nothing had happened, launching into some story about his weekend. You were too flustered to do anything but follow along, grateful he wasn’t pressing the issue further.

By the time you slid into your seat in class, the embarrassment had settled into a dull thrum, manageable but still present. Unfortunately for you, Joe wasn’t done.

“Hey,” he said, leaning over slightly so only you could hear. “Do you have a crush on me or something?”

The question was delivered so casually, with that same damn smirk, that it took a second to register. Your head snapped toward him, your eyes wide. “What? No!”

“Uh-huh,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” you hissed, your face feeling hotter by the second.

Joe chuckled, leaning back in his chair with an air of victory. “Whatever you say.”

You glared at him, but he just winked, turning his attention to the teacher as if he hadn’t just completely unraveled you.

For the rest of the class, you couldn’t focus on a single thing except the stupid, smug boy sitting next to you. And, much to your chagrin, the smallest part of you couldn’t help but feel a little flattered.

After that Monday, things shifted. Slowly, but surely, you and Joe began spending more time together. It started with small things—casual conversations during passing periods, shared laughs in class, and stolen moments after school. Joe had this way of sneaking past your walls, of making you laugh when you wanted to roll your eyes. And you couldn’t deny how easy it was to be around him, even when Maisie shot you knowing looks, muttering, "Don’t get your hopes up.”

By the end of the football season, it felt natural to meet him after games, even if it was just to say a quick hello or give him a high-five. But one game—toward the end of the season—was different. You could tell something was on his mind, the way he fidgeted and avoided eye contact as you approached him on the field, your jacket pulled tight against the November chill.

“Hey,” he said, his voice unusually soft.

“Hey, good game,” you replied, smiling up at him.

“Thanks.” He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck in that way he did when he was nervous. “Uh… I wanted to ask you something.”

Your heart did a little flip. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours. “Would you… uh, do you want to be my girlfriend?”

You blinked, stunned for a moment, before a wide smile spread across your face. “Yes.”

Joe’s face lit up like you’d just handed him a championship trophy. Without warning, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you off the ground, spinning you in a circle as you laughed, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. When he set you down, he was grinning like an idiot.

“Really?” he asked, still holding onto you.

“Really,” you said, laughing at his excitement.

From that moment on, you were inseparable.

High school with Joe was a whirlwind of late-night drives, studying together at the library (where he mostly distracted you), and cheering him on from the stands. He became your biggest supporter, whether it was at your own events or just encouraging you through tough classes.

Maisie, of course, remained skeptical of Joe for a while, but even she had to admit he wasn’t the worst when he went out of his way to make sure you were happy.

High school was full of memories like that—Joe getting overly competitive during group projects, Maisie rolling her eyes at his antics, and the three of you becoming an unlikely trio. But the sweetest moments were the quiet ones: Joe waiting by your locker with his easy smile, the two of you walking hand-in-hand through the halls, and the way he always made you feel like you were the most important person in the world.

By the time graduation rolled around, you couldn’t imagine your life without him. And from the way he looked at you as you crossed the stage, you knew he felt the same.

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[enhas-pov]

enemies by blood

summary: born in a mafia family definitely wasn’t easy. especially when your dad’s enemy’s son, park sunghoon goes to your school. reader and sunghoon grew up hating each other due to their father’s bad past with each other, but what’s gonna happen when they want their kids to finish what they started?

warnings: (gang)violence, lots of fighting, murder, blood, drugs, money laundering, guns, kissing, usage of "oppa", pet names, bad ending

word count: 4.5k

note: i haven’t read through it‼️ ignore spelling mistakes

pt.2

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my whole life i`ve felt like an outsider. people always look at me weird, they give me dirty looks, but at the same time theyre afraid of me. all because of my family.. my dad to be specific. since before i was born, my dad has been a part of this mafia gang thingy where drugs, guns, killing, and all of that stuff was involved. so growing up i was taught most of those things. id say im pretty good at fighting, and using guns. my mom on the other hand died when i was 10, she was killed by some guy that my dad was having problems with.. ive never met someone who can relate to me whatsover, except for park sunghoon.

sunghoon goes to the same school as me and grew up exactly like i did, and when i say exactly i mean EXACTLY. his dad is a part of a mafia gang too, so sunghoon grew up involved with that as well just like i did, and guess what? his mom got killed by a guy his dad was having problems with as well. if you put two and two together.. my dad killed sunghoons mom so sunghoon`s dad killed my mom, which is one of the reasons why sunghoon and i grew up hating each other.

my dad told me that him and mr. park used to be a part of the same gang, they were actually really close friends until something happened between the two of them that ruined their friendship and caused them to turn on each other. basically, my dad and mr. park were planning a huge drug deal, but for some reason mr. park tipped off the cops to make sure all the money made off the drug deal would be his, so when my dad got arrested for it he spent 10 years in prison. and when he got out he killed sunghoons mom as revenge, but when mr. park killed my mom for revenge because of his wife`s death, it made things worse between the two.

i was sat in the backseat of the fancy car i was driven to school with everyday by my dads personal driver, min. i was not allowed to walk to school and especially not alone. my dad told me there are people who know about me and that since im his daughter they kinda want me dead.. which is understandable? i guess, considering the kind of shit my dad does to these people. "were here, miss y/l/n" my driver says, parked right in front of my school. "thank you-" i was two seconds away from getting out of the car before i was stopped by my drivers very concerned voice. "wait, mr. park is right behind us. would you like to wait?" i rolled my eyes at his words, not giving a care in the world about park fucking sunghoon. "i`m okay. thank you, min"

the second i made my way out of the car i was met with sunghoons tall figure stood not too far behind me. he threw a glare at me that i quickly returned which he rolled his eyes at. as we both started walking to the entryway of our school, we were pretty much walking next to each other, obviously, since we were going the same way. "thought the teacher told you to cover up?" he suddenly says, referring to my choice of clothing, his eyes looking straight ahead as hes avoiding any and all eye contact with me.

"you were the one who went complaining to our teacher about it, acting like what i was wearing wasn’t making your dick hard" he only chuckled at my words. once we reached the entryway, he opened the door and stood to the side. he grinned, "ladies first" he said. i gave him a fake smile and walked through the open door. right as he was about to walk in from behind me, i slammed the door shut in his face and locked it so he couldn`t get in no matter what. i watched him banging on the door and yelling at me to open it. "oppa! i think the back door is open" i said loud enough for him to hear, knowing its a good 5 minute walk to get there. i laughed at how furious he was before making my way to class.

i guess you could say me and sunghoon act childish with each other sometimes. we argue a lot over dumb, unnecessary and small shit for no reason. we could choose to ignore each other but since i have it out for him and he has it out for me, its hard not to say anything every time we come across each other. we`re not exactly like our dads. we dont pull a gun on each other every time we cross paths, but do not get me wrong. there are times when our silly little arguments have evolved and turned into something much bigger causing a physical fight ending in blood and injuries. but its always been between just the two of us, we`ve never involved our dads or anything because we seem to just handle it on our own.

"i hope everyone here studied for their exams, you had all week and i will be disappointed in you if you fail" our teacher was walking around and placing the exam papers on each one of our desks. suddenly, at the sound of the door being slammed open, everyone turned their heads just to see sunghoon standing by the door looking pissed. "mr. park! it is one thing to come late to my class to take your exam, but its another thing to slam my door open and interrupt me" watching our teacher yell at sunghoon really made my day, especially the embarassed look on his face which made me smile to myself.

"im sorry, miss. i had to come in through the back door since-" before he could rat me out, he got cut off by our teacher who decided to yell at him once again. "i don`t want to hear it mr. park. take your seat and be quiet" sunghoon glared at me silently before he made his way to his desk which just happened to be right next to mine. i was expecting him to start throwing childish insults at me, but to my surprise he looked down at the piece of paper in front of him in complete silence. odd, but i couldnt be bothered to start anything during our exams.

"you guys have 1 hour to finish your exams starting from now" the room went completely quiet once everyone turned their heads down and started writing down on the piece of paper. i was focused on my exam until i felt something press down on my foot. confused, i look underneath my desk to see that its someone whos pressing down on my foot with their own. of course when i look up to see who it is, its sunghoon. hes not looking at me as his eyes are stuck to the paper in front of him, instead he uses his pen to point at a tiny note right next to his paper. i can see that theres something written on it, but since i couldnt make it out i decided to lean over his table a bit. squinting my eyes, i read the words "shouldn`t have locked me out pretty thing" pretty thing? really? is he referring to me as a thing? what an ass..

"miss. ___ is looking at my papers" wait, what?! i look up at sunghoon whos smirking at me, ew.. before turning to our teacher who looks like shes actually about to kill me.

"miss, i wasn’t-"

"i dont want to hear it! detention now, miss y/l/n"

fucking unbelievable. if im gonna miss my exam and end up in detention, you sure as hell know sunghoon will too. i tried not to lose my shit, grabbing my backpack before "accidentally" tripping over sunghoons desk which kinda revealed a bit of my behind to everyone in class. "miss! sunghoon just tripped me on purpose.." i said, acting all shy and embarrassed about how my skirt flipped over. "shes fucking lying!" sunghoon stood up from his desk and i could tell he was gonna lash out on me.

"am not! you tripped me over that desk on purpose you fucking pervert-"

"watch your mouth you lying piece of shit!"

while me and sunghoon were lashing out on each other, we didn`t notice how our teacher was red in the face like she was about to explode out of anger. "that`s enough! you guys are grown enough to know not to be using that sort of language, nor to be arguing like little kids! you should know to act better. detention for the both of you right now!" she yelled in our faces while everyone else were sat staring at us awkwardly.

both me and sunghoon were now sat in detention. we also just happened to be the only ones here, along with a teacher tho.. sunghoon was sat on the other side of the classroom as he wished to not be near me at all, which i’m glad for. i was scrolling through my phone when the teacher suddenly got up from the chair he was sat on. “alright. i’ve got a wife and kids to get home to, so you two better behave on your own until school is finished” and then he left just like that, leaving me and sunghoon all alone. "cant believe i`m missing my exam because of you.." i spat, breaking the silence. "maybe if you hadn`t locked me out i wouldn`t have done what i did. besides, the stunt you pulled really just proves my point. you really are a slut-" and this is usually how our fights start.

gripping the book in my hands that was on my desk, i quickly threw it in sunghoons direction and his instincts kicked in instantly. he dodged the book which flew right past his head, hitting the wall with a harsh thud that left a noticeable mark. "nice try princess" he pushed his desk to the side and began walking towards me as he was visibly angry. i ducked as fast as i could when he swung his fist at me. i felt a rush of air across my face that his fist had missed. "a man hitting a woman? that`s not very man-like of you" i twisted my body as i attempted to throw a kick at his knee, but sunghoon was quick to jump back which resulted in my foot connecting with the wall instead. "fuck!"

"dont hurt yourself now" sunghoon smirked before his next punch successfully caught me across my cheek, causing a sharp pain which made me stumble backwards. suck it up.. i launched myself forward and managed to tackle him down. with sunghoon on the ground, i was now straddling him with my fists positioned in the air right above his face. we were both breathing heavily as sunghoon struggled to get away from underneath me. "are you getting weaker, park sunghoon?" i asked, lowering my fists before getting back up on my feet. "youre saying that as if you didnt take the most damage" he panted, sitting himself up against the wall. "yet i`m not the one whos out of breath" i grabbed my backpack and made my way out of the classroom as i couldn`t be bothered to deal with his bullshit anymore, and i could feel his eyes on me as i walked out.

"dad! im home" i walked into the kitchen with no sight of my dad. i jumped when i saw my dads personal driver sat at the kitchen table. "min? you scared me. wheres dad?" i sat down next to him, placing my backpack on the floor. "your dad is currently in a meeting, hell be back soon. how did your exam go?" i watched him eat his food as i had no idea what to say to that. "couldnt have gone better.." i lied. he hummed, "if youre wondering, then no, i didn`t tell your dad i saw you and mr. park having a conversation on your way inside" i furrowed my eyebrows at him. why did he think he had to keep something like that away from my dad? we weren`t exactly saying positive things to each other, unless he thinks..

"ew, no! its most definitely not like that. we do talk sometimes, but its just shit talking about each other to each others faces" i said, not missing the way he threw me a look that screamed "i don`t believe you". i rolled my eyes playfully,

"i do not like sunghoon whatsoever-"

"i`d hope so"

i heard a voice say. turning around, i saw my dad walking into the kitchen with a lot of papers in his hands. "min, these are for you" he handed him a few of the papers which min accepted and thanked him for before he got up from his chair. i watched my dad sit down on the chair min was just sat on, "what did i hear you talking about just now?" he questioned, placing the rest of the papers on the table in front of him as he started going through them one by one.

"my exam" i said, which wasn`t completeley a lie. he turned to look at me, raising his eyebrows before looking back at his papers. "i was meaning to talk to you about sunghoon" what? why sunghoon out of all people? "you were..?" i asked, feeling myself getting a little nervous. "you know, sunghoon is no different from his father. he`s just as bad as him" i hummed as i was trying not to show how desperate i was for him to get to the point. "i was originally planning on doing this myself, but i figured that it would be a better for you to do it, since you "do not like sunghoon whatsoever""

"well, ur right about that. what is it that you want me to do dad?" he paused before he took a deep breath. he turned to me slightly and placed his hand on my shoulder, "sweetheart". he finally said as curiosity started taking over me. he hesitated for a second and it kinda freaked me out. was this gonna be some sort of arranged marrige? did he know about our fight today? or maybe- "i want you to kill sunghoon" what?! kill sunghoon..? i’d lie if i say i didn`t hate him, but ive never gone as far as to actually wanting to murder him.. i never have, never will, never wanted to and never planned on taking someone’s life, even if it`s someone who i despise.

“i know i’m asking for a lot-“

“asking for a lot? dad, you’re asking me to take someone’s life..”

“sweetheart, i know. but unfortunately this isn’t a choice” i watched him in horror as no words were able to leave my mouth. “you will do what i’m asking you to do. you wouldn’t want to disappoint your father, right?” he stood up from his chair, looking down on me demanding that i give him an answer. “y-yes dad..” i managed to get out, not bothering to look at him. “very well then” his footsteps were heavy as he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my thoughts. i can’t kill sunghoon.. but i have to? no. i don’t have to, i think? it’s what my dad wants me to do, does that mean i should? murder is wrong, but sunghoon is a bad person. does sunghoon deserve to die? shit..

“you want me to kill ___?” sunghoon’s dad had delivered the exact same news to his son. “that’s right. she’s no different from her father” sunghoon knew that what his father was asking him for was wrong. he couldn’t bring himself to kill ___, even tho he hated her he knew that it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“dad.. i don’t know if i can-“

“don’t start with me son. when i tell you to do something, you do it. don’t act like it’ll be hard, she’s a woman after all”

a woman who could easily beat my ass.. sunghoon thought to himself. “yes father” he said. “very well then” he watched his father walk out of the room, what was he gonna do now? should he kill her just because his father told him to do so? the guilt would be with him for the rest of his life if he did. but he wouldn’t want his dad to be disappointed in him, right?

“we’re here, miss y/l/n” min said, parked in front of my school. “thank you..” i made my way out of the car and prayed to god that i wouldn’t bump into sunghoon. a whole day had gone by and i still needed to process everything. i looked around as i made my way to the entryway with no sign of sunghoon, and i was relieved when i finally reached the door. but before i could open it myself, someone had opened it from the inside. looking up, my heart dropped at the sight of sunghoon stood in front of me. i swallowed nervously as we were both stood staring at each other in complete silence.

i tried to move past him, and so did he which caused our bodies to push up against each other. “sorry..” sorry? why the fuck did i apologize? “it’s alright..” he mumbled, moving to the side so i could walk past him. not wanting to make things even more awkward, i quickly walked past him and hurried my way over to class. wait, but.. why was sunghoon acting weird as well? maybe something happened and he was dealing with a personal matter.. don’t know, don’t care. he’ll be dead soon anyway.

i’m getting ready to start working out in what my dad calls "the den" its basically this underground gym/boxing place where my dad trains along with his men, but i usually show up after they’ve all left since i like being on my own. i had put on some black shorts and a white top that hung off my shoulder on one side. i reached for a hair tie and gathered all of my hair, putting it up in a high ponytail while some strands in the front were left loose. i then carefully started wrapping my hands in hand wraps and flexing my fingers afterwards. turning to the punching bag, i was getting ready to start my usual everyday practising, but that was until i heard footsteps coming from behind me. it was weird since i thought everyone had left, but when i turned around i was at a loss of words.

"how’d you get in here..?" my voice shook, watching sunghoons tall figure leaning against the door to the entryway. "wasn’t that hard. my men took out yours in the front pretty easily" he smirked at me, fidgeting with the gun in his hands. "you can’t bring a gun to a fist fight. thats why my men lost" one by one, i watched his men gather around him; all carrying guns. "this can go two ways" he said as he started walking towards me slowly "either it’ll just be the two of us and i’ll make it quick and painless, or ill have to bring my men on it and i guarantee that it’s gonna hurt" he was stood right in front of me while looking down on me with his head tilted slightly.

was sunghoon planning on killing me too? was he doing this because he somehow found out that i was planning on killing him first? there wasn’t enough time for me to think. right now i had to focus on just one thing, and that was to live. "did your men forget to take out the ones in the back too?" i watched the smirk on his lips disappear as my men started to gather around me as they had come in through the back. all though, they weren`t armed with guns like sunghoons men were which made me really nervous. sunghoon chuckled and began walking backwards until he was stood behind his men. i pulled the same move, which meant that our men were now gonna fight against each other to protect me and sunghoon.

"seems like you can’t face us without your guns" one of my men said who was stood in the very front. sunghoons men laughed, "let’s be fair about it then, shall we?" the sound of guns being thrown on the floor made me feel relieved. suddenly, the den exploded into chaos as our men went at each other with fists flying and bodies colliding. the men’s shouting and grunting filled the entire room while me and sunghoon were stood on each sides of the room watching them.

one of my men collapsed on the ground, but before he could get back up two men tripped over him which added to the pile of bodies that were already sprawled out across the floor. the den was a mess of sweaty, bloody, injured men that had mostly been beaten to death by each other. it went by faster than i expected, and worse than i expected. all that remained were either dead bodies or knocked out bodies with no one left standing except for me and sunghoon.

"what’s the matter princess? is this too much for you?" the sound of sunghoon’s voice brought me back to reality. i was distracted by the violent scene that was right in front of me. i took a deep breath, "nothing is too much for me" i said with my eyes looking straight at him from across the room. sunghoon looked at the gun in his hands before he threw it on the ground. "like my men said, lets be fair about it" he said, placing his hands in his pockets. "you can use the gun you know? i dont mind, since this will be your last fight after all.." the tension between us was heated. sunghoon only laughed at me, "give it all you’ve got baby" with each slow step, he was now walking towards me. "don’t call me that" i spat.

he paused dangerously close to me, our bodies almost making contact. "come on baby, don’t say that" he brought his hand up to my face, but i was quick to slap his hand away with mine. with no warning, sunghoon`s fist landed with a severse thud against my ribs and i felt the force knock my breath out of me. i whimpered when i was sent stumbling into a nearby table, gripping the edge of the table for balance. i wasted no time and launched myself back at him with a kick that grazed his shoulder. he let out a groan, quickly grabbing my leg and twisting it viciously.

i let out a cry as i fell to the floor. when sunghoon tried to get on top of me, i managed to wrench my leg free by kicking at his chest with my other foot. as he stumbled backwards, i got back up on my feet as fast as i could. we were both breathing heavily and our bodies were hot with sweat. "shit princess. you’re getting better at this" he panted, lifting his fists into the air. "thank you. it means a lot coming from you, oppa" i rushed forward, this time going low so i could tackle him. the second we both crashed onto the cold floor we started wrestled fiercly. our bodies were rolling on the floor as we tried to overpower each other.

suddenly, his hands found my neck. i felt his fingers squeezing as he pressed down. my eyes widened in panic and my hands quickly went flying to his wrists; clawing at them, desperate for air. i dug my nails into his skin until it started drawing blood. he hissed in pain and ended up loosening his grip just enough for me to shove him off. i started coughing and gasping for air before kicking him hard in his chest which caused him to also gasp for air when he felt himself not being able to breathe properly.

i charged at him once again, this time aiming my elbow at his face. he barley was able to block it with his forearm before i grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head backwards. "fuck!" he groaned, retaliating by grabbing my own hair and pulling it so hard that tears started forming in my eyes. "a-ah!" i let out a shriek. we were both struggling while using the grip on each others hair to cause each other pain. with a sudden move, sunghoon yanked my head to the side and slammed my head into the wall causing my grip on his hair to loosen. my chest was rising and falling, my body sprawled out on the floor with my hair being a tangled mess. my head was pounding horribly and i couldnt bare the pain i was feeling in my body.

sunghoon took the chance and got on top of me. he leaned down with his face so close to mine that the tip of our noses were touching. i felt his heavy breath against my lips before slightly flinching at the feeling of metal against my temple. his eyes looked into mine, a smirk forming on his lips. "this is the end for you baby" he mumbled before he cocked the gun. sunghoon raised his eyebrows when i sniffled. our eyes were locked in an intense gaze. he clenched his jaw slightly, the gun in his hand shaking when he tried pressing it further into my temple. i stood still, watching every move that he was making.

"kiss me goodbye?" i said, almost sounding like a whisper. he froze like he couldnt believe what had just come out of my mouth. his grip on the gun loosened, just for a second as if he was questioning whether to kill me or not. he stared at me with his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, unsure if i was joking or not. with the way i was looking into his eyes he could tell i was being serious when a tear rolled down my cheek. i leaned forward, my bloodied lips parting before they touched his. the kiss was soft as our lips moved together. i felt him deepening the kiss, parting his mouth as well. and with his lips still on mine, he pulled the trigger.

♡︎♡︎♡︎

i feel horrible i’m so sorry.. should i make it into a series orrr??

[unholyhelbig]

https://www.tumblr.com/unholyhelbig/748001277238181888/ive-reread-the-entirety-of-oversight-again-and

i’ve done this as well. i think u should 😌😏😉☺️🥰

Title: Rose Colored Glasses [An Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Reader gets word that Natasha is hurt and rushes home to assess the situation.

Warnings(PLEASE READ): injury to nose & foot, slight blood, and shrimp

[a/n: Did someone request more oversight? Because I've got you covered. This is pure fluff, sorry for the lack of angst! It's short, and sweet, and not proof read because I don't have time :( ]

Check out the full Oversight universe

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven

A quiet house was never a good sign. Growing up in the foster care system teeming with other wards of the state had taught you that. Often, you were three or four to a room. There were bunk beds with sheets slotted against the ceiling or stuffed under the mattress above your own, just for some type of barrier. It was an illusion of privacy, most of the time. Because houses like that were never quiet.

When you’d moved in across from Darcy after your 18th birthday, things weren’t quiet. Above you was a Latin-American couple that would wait until just past midnight to turn on a slow, rhythmic song and dance. Their steps were soft, and calculated. They carved out time for one another every single night between shifts. Just for the two of them. You often let the thumping base lull you to sleep.

The city was just outside your window. In the summer, you could prop it open with a brick and let the sounds of cars become a backdrop. There were sirens, and when the fire hydrant on the corner was loosened, the world welcomed a cold blast of water, sprinkling into the street. That was the opposite of quiet. That made your chest feel light, and warm.

After marrying Natasha Romanoff, you settled into the loudness of her home. Your home. Veronica was constantly running around the twists and turns of the bottom floor, Clint or Kate or Darcy galloping after her with a big smile on their face. They slowed themselves to make sure they didn’t break anything, but they wanted her to win, too.

Yelena often came with the muffled sounds of Russian techno bands coming from the headphones around her neck. It was a staple to find her in the kitchen with her head down, slicing into an apple from the backyard with precision unknown. Natasha would tug the headphones off to get her attention, or to send her into annoyance.

The night that Natasha got hurt was stifled with the sound of rain. It had soaked you to the bone, dripping onto the linoleum floor and then the carpet as you ascended the stairs two at a time. You’d been at the docks later than usual, the storm that had plagued the side of the harbor was relentless and delayed shipments.

The captain of the shipping boat your family had utilized for decades wanted to discuss something over whatever crap coffee you could beat out of the machine in your office. He spoke with a thick southern drawl, his mustache was encrusted with salt and sand. You had shed your coat and tried to warm yourself up by hugging your mug to your chest. Nothing seemed to work.

While you weren’t opposed to giving the man a raise, you were not the final say. Natasha was, and you figured he could use the company more than anything. The captain flicked through books that were on the shelf, taking two or three for his next journey out to sea. It was like clockwork with him, and you indulged his need for quiet companionship each time.

When your phone rang, you never looked at the caller ID. Those who were privileged enough to get your number knew to talk without any of the pleasantries that they were used to. Clint’s voice came through the receiver in a smooth, hushed tone that made you believe he wasn’t supposed to be calling you in the first place.

“Look, y/n, there’s been an… incident.”

“What kind of incident?”

He was meant to escort her to one of the many cocktail parties that Carlos LaMuerto was throwing at his mansion that bordered the same body of water that you resided on now. They were lovely get-togethers that you often attended with your wife. This, however, was the fourth one this month and your stomach was turning at the idea of another cocktail shrimp and lamb pate.

Clint had offered, seeing the desperation in your eyes. And while Natasha was reluctant, she ultimately agreed. No news of a bust had reached you yet, nor had a gun blazing argument. While the Captain licked his dry lips and scanned the books in front of him, you continued in hushed tones.

“Nat’s hurt. It’s not a big deal, you can finish up your business. She’s just being stubborn is all.”

An escaped sigh “I’ll be there.”

No shit, she was being stubborn. Your wife was bull-headed and wouldn’t admit to the smallest defeat. It eased your nerves slightly, and only slightly, that Clint said it wasn’t a big deal. No gunshot to the back, or knife to the throat. It wasn’t good enough, however.

Natasha would be upset that you tracked mud into the house and left your boots sloshing by the door. You were panting by the time you reached the double doors that led to your bedroom. They were, of course, blocked by Clint and Kate. Yelena was leaning lazily against the railing that was parallel. She regarded you with an uninterested stare.

“You did not have to come here.” She said, “We’ve got it handled.”

“She kicked all of you out, didn’t she?”

“What? She certainly did not!”

Yelena’s voice pitched with her lie. Kate’s cheeks turned an off-shade of pink and Clint just rthe hallway, that was a good sign. Still, neither of the two moved to let you into your own room.

“If you’re not going to get out of the way, can you at least tell me what happened?”

There was a muffled reply from behind the door. With the way that the voice flitted, you knew that she was trapped on the bed. Otherwise, she would have leveled you with a glare right here and now. The words were simple “Do it, you die.”

“Oh, come on,” You whispered harshly, turning your attention to Kate instead. She was the easiest to break. “Katie, what is the harm in letting me through? I’m going to catch my death if I stay in these clothes.”

“Catch your death?” Clint scoffed “What are you? A poet from the 1800’s?”

“I’m about to be breaking your fingers if you don’t-“

“You can’t even break wind,”

The two of your voices combined as you kept at it. You didn’t’ miss the wary look that Kate shot Yelena. One way or another, you’d get into your room. You refused to be banished to the couch again, especially in wet clothes. If you had to threaten ruining the rugs with your muddy footprints, so be it.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You held up both of your hands, silencing the chaos of the corridor. “Nat, you are my wife, you’re hurt. Whether you like it or not, I’m coming in. Does anyone have any objections?”

Kate went to raise her hand, but Yelena yanked it back down and shook her head no. You tore into Clint with a look that could drop him dead. He relented and stepped away from the door. While you had a moment of peace, you walked into the dark of the room. She’d turned out the lights, save for the half-moon that showed a pale pattern against the carpet.

When you reached for the light switch on the wall, Natasha let out a noise that was similar to a wounded animal. You halted, your actions and made out her form on the bed. She was folded in on herself, her silhouette rigid.

“Baby,” you cooed, closing the distance between you and the bed. She grunted again, this time in pain. She attempted to turn away from you. You lowered yourself onto the sliver of bed, approaching the situation softly. “Can I turn on a light?”

“No, I’m hideous.”

You chuckled softly “I highly doubt that, my love. I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Natasha had never liked being vulnerable around you. It had taken a full weekend of you nursing her back to her feet after the incident on the pier for her to let herself cry. You held her for hours, her nose pressed against the small of your neck. She’d gripped onto you, as if you’d leave. But you never would.

Eventually, you saw her shadow nod. Before she could change her mind, you flicked on the lamp on the side table. It didn’t’ have a far reach, but the light was less harsh on the both of you. It was impossible not to notice the blood that had dried against Natasha’s nose, a split right down the middle.

You’d seen her with broken bones before, bruises that wrapped around her midsection. You’d put ace bandage around her ribs after drawing her a bath. This was nothing to be ashamed about. In fact, she often saw them as battle scars that would heal in a pink gash.

Her foot was wrapped up with a bag of peas and one of frozen carrots that Clint, or even Yelena had situated. There was bruising around her ankle, it looked painful and you internally winced at the coloring. She groaned into the small of her elbow.

“I want to die”

“Natty, it’s okay. This is nothing a cozy weekend inside can’t fix.”

She said something that was quiet and muffled by her arm. You didn’t understand her one bit, but she squeezed a single tear from her eye that you wiped away dutifully before it could reach the silk of sheets.

“What was that, baby?” You asked gently.

She threw both of her hands down and glared at the ceiling. Her fingers eventually found yours, squeezing your palm in reflex. Her words came out in a quick breath, “I tripped over a carpet at the stupid dinner party and hit my face on the catering table.”

You were effectively silenced. That was very un-Natasha. But lately, you and Clint had been pestering her about her eyesight, especially at night. It wasn’t something she wanted to hear. In fact, each time you brought up the idea of glasses, she would effectively silence you with a glare, or even a kick to the shin under the kitchen table if you had company.

You bit the inside of your cheek and ran your thumb over her hand. She clutched your hand tighter. Now was certainly not the time to laugh, and while you fought back the initial giggle, you were more concerned about your wife.

“I’m so embarrassed.”

“I bet you got right back up.” You said, pressing your palm against her cheek. “None of those fancy party types would dare question your influence on this city.”

“Shrimp went flying everywhere.” Natasha pouted.

“Everyone was tired of shrimp anyway, even the shrimp.”

She grasped at the collar of your jacket and pulled you closer to her, pressing her lips against your own. They were warm, the warmest thing that you’ve felt since getting caught in the passing storm. You were careful not to lean on her ribs, breathing in the rosewater scent of her.

Natasha pressed her forehead against yours, running a hand up your spine. She grimaced. “You’re all wet.”

“Well now I am,” You smirked against her jawline, leaving a little nip in your wake. “You need to get glasses.”

“Don’t change the subject. You’re getting the sheets all damp, and you smell like fish.”

“I smell like fish?” You giggled, pressing a kiss to the exposed part of her neck. You felt Natasha laugh too, using her hands to cover her face from the blush that was blooming against her cheeks. “We’re talking about me?”

She laughed harder, attempting to shove you off but you let your body go slack against her, not using your arms to hold yourself up anymore. “Yes! Go shower!”

“Mm, but you’re so warm.”

“You’re not going to be warm if I make you sleep on the couch.”

You gasped dramatically, pulling your head off her stomach and meeting her dark green stare. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. After the day I’ve had, I refuse to sleep next to my wife when she smells like a marina.”

Even while she said it, her voice was gentle, her fingers working over your scalp to brush the wet hair from your eyes. You pulled yourself up to give her another peck on the lips, careful to avoid the split nose and busted ankle.

“Fine, but only because you need more aspirin.”

She grunted, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can’t believe I let you through my defenses.”

“Uh-huh. Get some rest. I’m going to go talk to your defenses about getting you an appointment with an optometrist.”

You turned to move towards the bathroom, already craving the warmth of a shower and some clean pajamas. Two steps from the doorway and you felt a plush throw pillow hit you directly on the back of the head. Natasha had amazing aim, always had, and always would.

You bent down and picked up the gold upholstered pillow, giving her a faux glare. “You’re not getting this back.”

“Oh, come on, baby.” She stuck out her lower lip “I have to prop up my foot.”

“You should have thought of that before you launched it at my head.”

 [Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]

[cokou]

Sharing 共有

Kidd × F!Reader × Law キッド×エフ！リーダー×ロ

event. 100 followers event! Requests all open till 17th of July 2024. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sum. Fighting over you is useless, you just need to pick which one! Decision is on you! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. No genre mentioned. Reader is a straw hat! Pre sequel to two other stories. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. I had been delayed because, work and clearly Haven't had enough time to write at all. Hope y'all enjoy this! //Do not translate or transfer my works, this is my only account. Will not be crossposted anywhere. // Masterlist♡

Your eyes slightly open from the sun shining through your face by the opened window of your room on the ship, looking at the direction where light was shining. You slowly get up, you rub friction on your eyes to see much more properly, looking by the wall across the room whilst losing focus.

As you heard the loud arguments outside by the deck, you had figured that the men, Kidd and Law, were still here since last night. Not being able to recall everything that much, all you remembered was that they stayed by the ship drinking with the others involving you as well. You exited your room and was met by the windy weather, you shiver slightly and made your way into the sunny's kitchen.

You take whatever was left in the table and munched on it, proceeding to start the day earlier. Walking into the deck, the argument of the three men became louder to your ears, Luffy, Law, and Kidd. You heard that they were fighting something about what Luffy did.

"The hell's with you ruining everything again?!" Kidd blurted.

"Hah?! I didn't even do anything!" Luffy fought back.

"Coming from the guy who decided that running right through the bandits after stealing from them WAS a great idea." Law chimed in.

You continue to listen to their bickering and fighting across the upper deck, trying your best to not give a single care. But you just happen to want to eavesdrop on them, so that's exactly what you did.

"What? It was i great idea c'mon!" Luffy tilts his head.

"Where the hell is the GREAT idea there?!" Kidd was starting to hold grudges on Luffy based on his tone.

"We might just take (Name)-ya with us for the next next we do the work in the island." You lean on the deck as you heard your name coming from Law's mouth, he was planning to take you with them? You didn't understand why out of everyone he could've picked it was you.

"Right (Name)-ya?" Your eyes widen in confusion as Law looked up to your direction and smiled at you, slightly fixing his hat.

"Might be the greatest idea you got there Trafalgar." You felt even more confused as Eustass agreed on Law's opinion, which obviously never happens at all.

"Me? Why me?" You lean cloeer into the railing as you raise your voice for them to hear.

"Oooh! (Name), she's pretty good at those things!" Luffy smiled at their suggestion, taking on their side to take you with them.

"Eh, you seem like you'll get the fucking job done." Eustass adds. You tilt your head slightly of you could have probably messed up on with the mission.

Thinking about you falling into an endless ravine and not being able to scream for help, or get eaten by alligators, or possibly bitten by a large snake! You shook your head at the thoughts of dangerous, reckless things you could do from destroying their expedition.

"That won't be a good idea at all!" You step back onto the upper deck, crossing your arms as you look at them from the chair you sat on.

"Oh well, you don't have a choice (Name)! I agree with their ide—"

"Who the hell said I'm gonna agree to that?!" You cut Luffy off making him jump from your sudden outburst. But you think about it slightly, getting to spend time with Trafalgar and Eustass, THE Trafalgar and Eustass. You change the perspective of your mind,

"Fine, I'll do it!" You stood up from the chair and make your way to them. Luffy unknowingly smiles at your decision and so does the two. Before you knew it, you three were launched off into the depths of the Island, which was a pretty city. The way buildings and structures were built was perfect, it was definitely one of the prettiest places you've seen out of all the Cities you've been on.

"So what are we doing?" You ask them.

"Eh, just gotta steal some good ol' stuff in here, aye." Kidd answers. You nod at his answer and began looking and admiring the buildings.

"It's pretty much a suprise to get to work with ya, I didn't expect it to say the least." Law looks at you, the same usual straight face he displays. You nod at his remark and bring your hand to rub your chin, thinking of how you guys were fonna steal without getting caught in such a huge city.

As you three wander into the city hoping to find a building that looks like will be stuffed by treasure, you came across two ways around the city, a straight path and a right path.

"We should split into two groups." You suggested.

"Sure, go with me." Kidd grabs your wrists but was immediately stopped on his tracks by Law grabbing your other wrist as well.

"No, (Name)-Ya is coming with me." He pulls you back to him, making you fall into his torso as he moves you out of Eustass' reach.

"Fuck off Trafalgar! She's coming with me!" Kidd pushes Law slightly and grabs a hold of you. You push both of them away,

"ACTUALLY i will decide who'll i go with!"

If you chose...Law ↓

Kidd scoffs at your claim to be with Law and started walking off into the right path, staying on the place with Law. You two continuesly made your way towards the straight pattern of the cities roads. As you two walk along the road, you were met with much more tall structures and people, staring off into the distance, you seem to notice someone being chased off.

"What's with them?" You asked.

"Persons probably a bandit, let's go. We're definitely in the correct way." He grabs you and started running fastly into the same direction the person was being chased off. You two arrived Infront of the gate of the biggest structure in the city. Law decides to break off the lock and conceal the both of you inside.

Inside was definitely a large sum of golden furnitures, searching and ravaging the cabinets and drawers one by one. You two were so busy with taking all the items that it went past an hour inside.

Finally finishing with the little adventure inside, you two went out from one of the structures windows and landed on someones roof, trying the best to not attract any contact with the city people. Unfortunately you two's luck had ran out and you two were chased by Marines since someone had reported seeing you two running on the roofs.

Not only have they grazed your arm a bit but you two had managed to outrun them, successfully meeting up with Eustass into the Sunny once again.

If you chose...Kidd ↓

Kidd smiled widely as you pick going with him instead, mocking Trafalgar and laughing him off. He grabs your wrist and fled with you towards the right side of the city. Inside were homes of different sorts, the road was busy and there were lots of stalls by the road.

Unfortunately, you two had no enough money to buy anything from them, so the walk was pretty boring. Across the seemingly endless road, you two were led into an empty part of the city, being greeted with nothing but the sea. You two were frustrated and decided to enjoy some view first before riding out the main road.

"No treasure here then, that's shit." Kidd scoffs and grunts.

"What about we rob the homes instead?" You suggest.

"Great idea but, eh, no. That's a million times fucking harder, plus our goal is to not attract any attention at all aye." You sigh at his remarks and you gently sat down on the ground. You two first enjoyed the view, not knowing how much time had passed. Eventually Killer had come to get you two and said that he asjed Trafalgar where you two headed into the city.

Killer takes you two out the dity and back into where the ships were docked, sadly you two hadn't found anything at all, on the other hand, Law had brought a large bag full of golden treasures. It's safe to say that Eustass and Trafalgar picked a fight onto each other again.

Eustass calling Law boastful and overproud just because he found them instead of the both of you, whilst Law called him a jealous bastard.

—

Back at the Sunny again, you three decided to end the day with dinner with the Straw hats, specifically you. You two slumped over your bedrooms couch and talked about how the expedition went for each sides, they weren't so bad after all! Thanks to Luffy messing up, you three had gotten clower in a span of the day. Especially with the person you chose to be with.

———

Pre-Sequels; NSFW

More for us //T. Law × Reader

More for you // E. Kidd × Reader

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[thebisexualdogdad]

With the new rookie season you gotta do more Lucy!!!

Maybe something like Lucy meets a PI who’s working a similar case as her and the two slowly flirt and nerd out on common interests.

Lucy Chen x Male!reader

● as a private investigator you were hired to follow a man who's wife was accusing him of cheating

● lucky for her he wasn't cheating, unluckily for her he became entangled with a gang selling drugs and now he's missing

● which is how you meet officer Lucy Chen

● “Excuse me? What do you think you're doing? This is a crime scene you can't be here,” she questions as you're looking at the faces of a bunch of newly deceased individuals after a drug deal gone wrong trying to ID your clients husband

● “I'm a private investigator, Y/N Y/L/N, I've been hired by Mary Jameson to track down her husband Luke Jameson who is involved with all this”

● “do you see him here?”

● “no but-”

● “then I'm gonna have to ask you to leave”

● you don't actually leave, you just hang around outside the crime scene tape waiting to get any more information on where you're missing guy might be

● “he's still here?” Harper asks Lucy who has been keeping an eye on you for the last several hours

● “yeah he thinks I'm gonna tell him details about the case because he's a PI”

● “PI's are the worst,” Lopez chimes in

● “I thought lawyers were the worst?”

● “they are but I'm not married to a PI,” she laughs, “he says he's looking for a guy who deals for this gang right? Lucy take him to the station and find out everything he knows, he may actually be useful in helping us fill in some missing pieces”

● back at the station Lucy has you in an interrogation room, questioning you about Luke

● you tell her you've been tailing him for three weeks, he went missing two days ago handing over the photos you have of him dealing drugs as well as meeting up with the leader of the gang

● you actually were quite helpful for Lucy

● and even a little bit flirty

● and to your surprise Lucy was flirting back

● you find out you like the same TV shows and music artists

● you spend a little too long talking about the latest season of your favorite show

● but just as you're about to ask her on a date to get to know her more Lopez and Harper interrupt bringing your attention back to the case at hand

● Lucy relays all the information to them and thanks you for the help

● and after you leave Lopez asks her, “were you flirting with the PI?”

● “no of course not that would be unprofessional”

● Lopez and Harper simultaneously “they were flirting”

● you show up at the station again the next morning with coffee and breakfast sandwiches to see if they have any new leads on Luke

● “you brought me coffee?”

● “with almond milk and a shot of espresso”

● “how did you know that's how I drink my coffee?”

● “I'm a private investigator remember, it's my job to know those kind of things”

● you and Lucy end up working together to find out that Luke is being held captive by a rival gang

● the cops raid the warehouse and free him though he is arrested in the process due to your photos of him dealing drugs which his wife is certainly not going to be happy about

● “Guess this is the end of our team up,” Lucy tells you when she returns to the station with another officer towing behind with Luke in handcuffs

● “Seems so but it doesn't mean it has to be the last time we see each other right? Can I take you out to dinner sometime?”

● “yeah, that would be nice”

● “great, I'll get us a reservation at the blue orchid”

● “that's my favorite restaurant how did you- oh right private investigator,” she laughs

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 117 (A Genius Idea)

Ash and Pearl arrived downstairs to find their parents. "Mommy, the lights went out and the TV, too!" he cried.

Heather nodded. "Pearl's mom checked the electrical box out back and it's totally fried."

Dylan, an electrical engineer, spoke with Heather and Anjali. "I can't keep trying to patch around the same problem. That box is done, but the city says they won't be able to get someone out to replace it until tomorrow morning."

Anjali frowned. "That doesn't help us get tonight's meal on the table."

"I have an idea, but I need some beakers and some bubble gum," Ash said. The adults looked confused. "We can make a heating system with candles and metal trays!"

"What's the bubble gum for, buddy?" wondered Conrad.

"To hold them together! Bubble gum won't burn if we use it to secure the trays on the outside, and I can make it harden faster if there's a science table here!"

The adults were all impressed by his idea, and they set to work prepping a makeshift heating station to continue cooking the food. It would take longer this way, but at least everyone would eat a hot meal tonight.

Ash worked away at a rickety old science station donated by the local middle school, while Pearl glanced around the cavernous, dark shelter. "Hurry, Ash, it's getting dark outside!"

"It's only nighttime. It's not that scary."

"My mom says nights in the Spice District can be dangerous."

Ash tried to work a little faster. "It's okay, Pearl. Our parents won't let anything happen to us. Why did you take your coat off? It's cold in here."

"I run hot! My dad says it's genetic."

Once the food was in the makeshift ovens, everyone took a break outside, purchasing coffee and pastries from the cafe to enjoy in The Soup Kitchen's eclectic courtyard.

Chatting together at a long table, Heather's mouth dropped open when she spotted a face she hadn't seen in years. "Marcus Flex! Is it really you?"

Heather's first vet tech turned at the sound of her voice, breaking into a wide smile when he recognized her. "Doc Nesbitt! No way! What are you doing in the city?"

"Volunteering here with my fiance and my son."

"Man oh man, Ash must be so big now."

"I am!" he said, speaking up across the table. "Who are you?"

"I used to work for your mother, but I've lived here since I left town."

Heather nodded. "Are you and Thomasine doing well?"

"Things with us couldn't be better. I know I was a bit non-committal and flighty back when I lived in the Bay, but Thomasine changed me. I can't imagine spending my days with anyone else but her."

Heather smiled. "That's great Marcus. Are you working? I've been worried about you since you both left town."

He nodded proudly. "I'm in marketing now and she's a mental health nurse. We lived in a real dump of a place for a while, but then one day this woman knocked on our door and offered us a bigger suite in the building for the same rent. She just wanted to trade for a smaller place, and we thought she might be out of her mind, but she showed us her ID and she's never missed paying the landlord the rest of our rent."

"No offense, but that sounds a little suspicious," said Conrad. "Paying your rent and hers to live in a crappier apartment. Only a criminal would do that."

"Rafaella keeps to herself. If she's into anything, it's never affected us."

"What did you say her name was?" Heather said.

"Rafaella Santos, according to her ID."

Heather and Conrad exchanged tense looks. "What's the address of your old apartment?"

"910 Medina Studios. Back in the Arts Quarter. Thomasine works in the Spice District on weekends and I like to stop by to give her an afternoon coffee. I'm usually there by now, but she'll totally understand when I tell her I ran into you, Doc! I really am sorry I just took off all those years ago."

Heather shook her head, trying to keep her sudden mix of emotions from showing in front of Ash and Pearl. That was Conrad's old apartment, and this Rafaella Santos was probably using an assumed name. She noticed Conrad down the table - the same wild thoughts were running through his mind.

"It's alright, Marcus. It sounds like everything worked out for the best. And if you can let me know how to get the money to you, I can finally send your share of the proceeds from the VetConnect extension you helped me come up with."

"That's kind of you, Doc, especially after I left without a word. It's been great catching up with you. Thomasine's just about ready to speak to her father again - she thinks - so we might be back in Brindleton Bay for a visit sooner than later."

"It would be great to see you, Marcus."

They got up then to head back to work, but before Marcus had left with his cafe order to go, Conrad approached him. "This Rafaella Santos - can you tell me what she looks like?"

"She changed her hair colour recently, but she was blonde before. You could tell it was straight from a bottle, though. You really think she's a criminal?"

"I think she might be a drug smuggler. I don't suppose I could convince you to wear a wire?"

"She doesn't say much. I've tried to be friendly."

"If it's who I think it is, she's not friendly."

"Thomasine wouldn't want me getting involved if she's dangerous. I'd love to help you and the doc, but we've been talking about maybe trying for a kid."

Conrad nodded. "I get it. You've given us enough to take it from here. There might be some officers scoping out the building over the next little while, until we know it's her, so if you're serious about taking a trip to Brindleton Bay to see your wife's family, maybe now's a good time. Just stay out of 'Rafaella's' way. Don't let her think someone might be on to her, and don't tell her you saw us. Oh, and, be prepared to take over the full rent in the larger apartment soon. If we get her, those contracts will void."

"I'll talk to Thomasine, but I'm glad I could help. Thanks for the heads up, Lieutenant Gordon."

As Marcus turned to leave, Conrad's heart started racing. If his instincts were correct, Ximena had been hiding out in the last place he'd lived in San Myshuno all along.

Now Conrad felt just days away from finally catching her. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: Pay no mind to Ash's reindeer hat in the "genius idea" pop up. I sent them on the rabbit hole family volunteering event immediately after staging their Christmas Day photos. Didn't even think about changing their clothes since it was a rabbit hole. But then this pop up ended up dictating storyline so that's why he's wearing it in the inset but not at the lot.

Also the goal was empathy, but with Ash's genius trait and the pop up we got, he had the choice to solve the problem himself or call for help. Since his phone's been confiscated due to creepy pranks, there was really only one choice. His empathy bar didn't budge but his responsibility and mental increased. So his empathy is in low green territory at the moment (better than red!) and I'm hopeful he won't roll a douche trait. Since he's still got a ways to go until teenhood, I've got more time to play around!

NOTE 2: Second-save Marcus and Heather instantly became the best of friends while they reconnected, which is clearly because they're finally certain Ximena's within reach, all thanks to him!

[wosowrites]

Under the Surface (Leah Williamson x Reader)

warnings: none

a/n: based off this request here

prompt: in which the reader plays for barca and is secretly dating leah and the reader doesn’t want to hide anymore, but Leah doesn’t agree.

Long distance was shit. It was horrible. You and Leah had met when you played for Aston Villa a year ago. Your relationship got serious very quickly. But Jordan and Leah had just broken up a couple months ago and Leah was worried about what the people who had taken Jordan’s side in the breakup ( even though it was very friendly ) would say about you. And the same thing went for you. You had just gotten out of a short relationship with Guro Reiten, and felt as though keeping things with Leah underground was better.

But then Aston Villa wasn’t meeting your expectations, and you talked to Leah and decided you would both be able to survive long distance. You signed with Barcelona, Leah supporting you through it all.

As mentioned, long distance was hard on the both of you, but you managed. Your love for each other prevailed. The actual problem? It had been a year since you started dating, and even longer since both of your public breakups, so why was Leah wanting to keep it a secret?

It was even worse because you couldn’t talk to anyone about it, not your spanish teammates, not your barca teammates, not even your best friend, Ona, who told you all the time that she was only a call away.

You came to training on Monday, your eyes puffy, your hair in a tangled ponytail from the day before, your mascara slightly smudged. You felt worthless. There was only one explanation. Leah was embarrassed to be with you publicly, or at least didn’t love you enough to tell the world you were hers.

You drove to training with the music so loud your ear drums rang, and people gave you judgmental looks at red lights. "Oh cry about it!" you yelled at a lady who was scowling at you.

But you were the one who burst out into tears again.

You pulled into the training center and parked your car, taking a second to compose yourself. You looked at yourself in the mirror, tried to tuck strands of hair back and clear the shine of tears from your cheeks.

"Okay y/n, you got this." you told to yourself. "Daily affirmations. Let’s go."

You stepped out of your car and slung your backpack over your shoulder, making your way towards the doors. You scanned your player ID and opened the doors where photographers were. They started taking a few pictures but then stopped, realizing the shape you were in. "Please don’t post any of those," you told the photographer in spanish.

He nodded to you and you kept on walking towards the locker rooms. Most of the team was already there, and they went to smile at you as you walked in, except your whole look threw them off guard and their smiles dropped.

You held the gaze of the room for a couple seconds before speaking. "One comment. And I mean one comment and your head will be through the wall." You told the girls.

They were used to your empty threats, but today, it was not empty.

While everyone did their best to look away and not bother you, Aitana even going outside the room to warn the incoming teammates to not piss you off, Mapi came to you immediately. "Do you want me to do your hair?" she asked gently, already in her kit and her classic low messy bun.

You held her gaze for a second, biting your trembling lip. "Okay. Thank you."

She had you sit on the floor and gently untied your hair from your bobble. She brushed through it with patience and softness you hadn’t seen from Mapi before, despite knowing her for years. She ran the brush through your long hair and then french braided each side, brining it into a braided ponytail. It took her about ten minutes, making you both the last in the room as all the girls had gone out onto the pitch.

Mapi handed you a makeup wipe, not saying anything, not telling you to use it, just letting you know it was there. You smiled at her gently and washed off your racoon eyes before walking out together.

You got into your car after training, feeling exhausted and annoyed. You took out your phone from your bag and opened it, noticing the missed calls from Leah. Concerned for her well being, you quickly called her back as you started the car up. "Leah! Are you okay?" you asked as she picked up the phone. "I’m fine. Are you okay? I called Lucy to talk about the lionesses roster and she mentioned you came to practice looking like you had been crying. What’s wrong?" Leah said.

You cursed Lucy internally before answering. "Listen… I’m fine. Im okay," you said, trying to sound convincing. "You’re not. I’m booking a flight to come over," Leah said. "Leah! You don’t have too," you said. "Tomorrow at 5:00. I’ll be there tomorrow at 5:00 baby." Leah told you.

Shit. How were you going to tell her that you felt as though she didn’t love you enough to tell people you were with her. Oh hey Leah, do you love me or are you embarrassed of me because you’re the love of my-

Your thought was interrupted by Leah, having forgotten you were on a call. "Okay my love. I can’t wait."

Lie.

"I’ll see you soon."

You sat on your couch, staring at the door defiantly. You were waiting for a knock to echo on your door, Leah having told you not to pick her up as it would mean leaving training early.

And then, it came. You were already frozen, but someone your body seized up more. You stood up robotically and opened the door. "Y/n/n…" Leah said, dropping her backpack and wrapping her arms around you. The way her body felt against yours made you want to shut up and not tell her how much her actions were hurting you. And when she pulled away briefly to kiss you, that desire was fuelled even more.

But reality struck.

You had flown her from England to Barcelona, you couldn’t tell her it was nothing. "What’s wrong. Why we’re you crying at training?" Leah said, rubbing her arms on your forearms as she looked into your eyes. You bit your lip, wanting to loose yourself in her.

"Leah do you love me. Genuinely. Do you love me?" You asked her. Leah’s face dropped and she tried to come closer to you but you backed away. "Jesus. Yes. Of course I do. You mean the world to me," Leah said, looking at you with hurt puppy eyes. "Then why the hell wont you tell anyone about us. It’s been a year! Are you that fucking embarrassed of me? I don’t get it."

Leahs lips parted in confusion before her face twisted in disgust. "You know nothing. I am so in love with you and you are not aloud to let me come here just to start accusing me of this bullshit! How could you!? I don’t want to keep our relationship secret because i’m embarrassed of you!" Leah yelled, making tears form in your eyes. "Then why?! Why, Leah?"

Leahs chest heaved up and down and she was now crying as well. You had never fought before.

"I don’t- I don’t want to make you cry. I’m sorry," you cried out yourself, putting your hands on the counter and hanging your head. "You want to know why I don’t want to tell anyone? I don’t want to tell my friends because they’re really close with Jordan and I don’t ever want them to think I didn’t care about her. And I also don’t want them to think you’re a rebound that’s lasting a little long because you’re not. Because I love you more tons anything in this world. You are the love of my life. And I don’t want to tell the public because they were… are… obsessed with me and Jordan. And I’m scared they’ll hate on you. You don’t deserve that. That’s why I’ve been wanting to keep it a secret. No other reason, do you hear me?" Leah said.

She had inched closer to you and her hand was now on your back, doing the thing that calmed you down the most. She slipped her hand under your shirt and grazed her nails up and down your spine. "Shit," you groaned, using the palm of your right hand to wipe your cheeks. "I’m an asshole," you whispered, loud enough for her to hear. "You’re not. I am. I was trying to protect you but I didn’t realize that I was hurting you more than I was protecting you," Leah said, grabbing your hands in hers and making her look at you. "I don’t care what people say about us. Our friends will be happy for us. And not all the fans are… obsessive. Most of them are amazing. And we get hate whether we’re publicly dating someone or not," you said, cupping her cheeks with your hands and rubbing a stray tear off her cheek. "You’re right. And that’s why I’m gonna do this," Leah said.

She pulled out her phone and opened instagram. She clicked on her story and scrolled through her camera roll, choosing a picture of you and her kissing at the top of a mountain you had both hiked together.

One year with you 💓 fooled everyone, didn’t we my love?

She wrote those words as you laughed at them. She looked at you and nodded, and then posted the story.

The next 24 hours were crazy. Your phone blew up ridiculously from texts of your friends and fan accounts tagging you in things.

You reposted Leah’s story do your own, writing:

Never getting enough of you 🤭💋

[sagesturns]

The Cut That Always Bleeds.

Warning: None! Just Angst!

I laid in bed. It’s been weeks? Months? I don't know how long since me and Chris broke up. The world outside felt gray and heavy, just like the weight pressing on my chest. It had been weeks since Chris and I had broken up, yet the ache of his absence still lingered, a constant reminder of what I had lost.

I remember his last words, as he looked at me like I was somebody who he didn’t recognize. The same words "You don’t get me anymore,” he had said, frustration in his voice. “You’re not the same person I fell in love with.” It was a sting in my chest, like a knife being twisted which left  me bleeding and breathless. Every moment I was breathing it played in my head like a broken record I couldn’t shut off till I fell asleep. Even when I did, I was haunted by the memories of us, the dreams consuming me and leaving me to wake up with tears streaming down my face.

We had been inseparable for so long, navigating the ups and downs of our teenage years together. I still remembered how his laughter could fill a room, how his smile could brighten even the darkest days. We shared dreams, secrets, and promises that felt like they would last forever. But somewhere along the way, things changed. The love that once felt strong had become fragile, slow disappearing till it wasn’t there. 

I picked up my phone, staring at the blank screen, willing it to light up with a message from him. I knew it was foolish, but a part of me still hoped he would reach out, that he would realize how much I missed him. But each passing minute brought only silence, and my heart sank a little deeper.

Memories flooded back—our late-night talks, the way he would brush his fingers through my hair as we lay on the grass under a blanket of stars. Or remembering the pressure of his kiss on my forehead. Or when he would brush his thumb over my knuckles to comfort me when something happened. His hugs, the ones that once were always filled with warmth and love, kept me safe from all the hurt in the world. Which now left me cold and hurt even thinking about it. Those moments felt like a lifetime ago, and I couldn’t help but wonder how we had gotten here. How had we let the love that once felt so strong slip away like sand through our fingers?

The argument was loud, remembering as the tears spilled down my cheeks and I begged him to stay, to not leave, the words a constant loop in my head. “I, I need you like the air I breathe, I need you more than me, I need you more than anything. Please don’t leave me.”

Now, the silence between us was deafening. I thought about the promises we made to always fight for each other, to never let the world come between us. Yet here we were, two strangers drifting further apart, trapped in our own hurt.

 Tears spilled over as I hugged my knees to my chest. The pain felt like a living thing, gnawing at me from the inside. I could almost hear Chris’s laughter in my mind, see the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his dreams. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had let him down, that I had somehow failed him.

I sank down to the floor, hugging myself tightly as sobs shook my body. The hurt felt unbearable, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. I wanted to scream, to cry out into the empty void of my room, but I was too exhausted to do anything but weep.

I realized I had never felt so alone. I was left with the ghost of what we had, a love that had once felt eternal now reduced to haunting memories. At that moment, I understood that sometimes love isn’t enough to hold two people together, no matter how hard you try. With each breath, I felt the weight of my heartbreak settle deeper, and I knew I would carry this pain with me, a scar that would never fully heal. And as the darkness of night began to creep in, I realized that some cuts always bleed, leaving a mark that could never be erased.

a/n: This is my first post! I actually have no idea how Tumblr really works. Lowk not my proudest work but whatever. I hope you guys like this lil story! I love the song 'The Cut That Always Bleeds' by Conan Gray so I wanted to make a story. Anyways I tried my best!

[lizzyk137]

I'll Be There For You- Part Two(A Spencer Reid Fanfic) (Reader X Spencer)

Description: You and Spencer still haven't worked things out with how he treated you but when Spencer gets a shocking and scary phone call, will he finally admit his feelings and apologize? Warning: Guns, stalking, mention of suicide, school break-in, murder, knocking people unconscious, hatred, lying, BAU standoff with unsub, hospital, attempted kidnapping, sexually suggestive material (like the smallest pg-13 bit of material), and some good ol' fashion fluff. Part One Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

"Jesse!"

Spencer rolled his eyes as he heard your squeals come down the apartment hall.

"Stop!" You playfully said, giggling.

Spencer sighed and closed his book, waiting for Jesse to say goodbye to you before he could go back to reading. Your happy squeals were too distracting for him to concentrate on what he was doing.

In the past month, everything you did made it hard for him to concentrate. Ever since he saw you walk towards him in the club, he couldn't take his mind off of you. He knew you were a fixation, so he didn't need to deal with his problems, but he didn't mind it for some reason.

You both didn't talk as much as you used to but you were always polite to him and offered him a smile when you saw him which was more than what you wanted, but it wasn't awful. Spencer was starting to become back to being his old self. You were still hurt by what he did to you, but you were happy that he was becoming himself again.

Jesse and you had started going out, mostly hanging out, but things did get steamy once or twice, never going over the line, but the makeout sessions weren't bad. You liked the way you felt with Jesse, but it didn't compare to how you felt when you were with Spencer and those still lingering feelings.

You hadn't forgiven him, but he also hadn't apologized to you either, so things between you were at a standpoint.

Spencer's phone went off as he closed his apartment door. He didn't bother to look at the caller ID before he answered, "Spencer."

"Spencer..." Y/N's voice came through the phone shakey.

Spencer stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? What's wrong?"

"A man," she hiccuped before taking a small breath in, "a man is in the school, and we're under lock down. I'm in a closet hiding. Please..." A sob broke through the phone, and Spencer swore he felt his heart break in two. "Someone is outside the classroom..." The line went dead.

Spencer's brain went into overdrive, and he was instantly on a call to Hotch, filling him in as he ran down the street towards the school you taught at. Within ten minutes, he was flashing his badge to a police officer who pointed at the man in charge.

"FBI Doctor Spencer Reid," Spencer said, breathing heavy as he showed his badge again to the police chief, "Has anyone been able to get in and see if everyone is okay?"

The police chief, a larger set man with sandy hair, nodded before speaking up. "We have a team of guys in there now sweeping the the area, no shots yet, luckily the school was closed for the day for a/c cleaning so it isn't filled with kids, but there are quite a few teachers in there." He pointed to a screen behind him, which showed images from the swat team's body cams.

"Spencer!" Morgan's voice rang out behind him. He turned around to see Morgan holding his gun and vest.

Spencer gladly took it and put everything on as the rest of the team got caught up with what was going on.

"The school is clear." A woman's voice rang through the speaker in front of them. "No sign of the suspect, but we did find something that is out of the ordinary in one of the classrooms. Room 204."

Spencer's heart stopped for a second when he heard the room number. It was your room number.

He was five paces ahead of everyone as he made his way down the halls to your classroom. He stopped when he saw what was by the closet door. A bouquet of red roses was left by the closet door with a small note card reading, "I love you," on the front of it.

"Did you find anyone in this classroom?" Spencer hurriedly asked the police officer next to her. "Y/N Y/L/N. This is her classroom, she called, saying she was in a closet. Did you find her?"

"Nothing so far, we're still getting a head count on who was actually here and who we have."

Spencer reached for the closet door in front of him to find it locked. He rattled the door some more but no give. "Can we get someone to open this? Now, please?"

One of the police officers stepped up and picked up the lock, then moved to the side for Spencer. He opened it to find you unconscious, mouth taped with colourful duct tape, hands tied with roped to your ankles with a wound on the side of your head that was bleeding. "We need paramedics!"

He gently took your head in his hands, making sure you were still breathing. A paramedic gently pushed him out of the way as they undid the duct tape and rope and then checked you over.

Spencer stood back as they looked you over, nervously playing with his hands. They picked you up and put you on a stretcher, then wheeled you out, Spencer one step behind them.

They lifted you into the ambulance, Spencer climbing in beside you. Hotch watched as they closed the back doors and drove away.

"Guys, let's get with local PD on this. Call Garcia and ask her to pull the surveillance footage. Let's figure out what happened here."

The team dispersed, JJ talking to the police chief on who made the 911 call, Morgan asking questions to the swat team who did the search while Rossi and Blake went back to classroom with Hotch.

"Red roses are a symbol of love and affection." Blake started as she crouched down towards the bouquet once they reached the classroom. "With a card saying I love you, it looks like something someone would give to their partner. Has Y/N been seeing anyone lately?"

"I don't think anything serious, but look at how it's laid. It's purposely laid there, like a shrine. It would be laying differently if she had dropped it when the alarm went off." Rossi said. "Why lock her in a closet for? Why take the time to tie her up and silence her with duct tape?"

"She had some type of wound on her head that knocked her out. She already wasn't going to make any noise or move, so why go the extra mile to be sure?"

Rossi looked at the inside of the closet, blood splattered on the side where your head was. "Enough of a hit to cause blood to splatter."

"Maybe he wanted to come back to finish whatever he had started." Blake said.

Hotch examined the closet. "Maybe, but how did he know where she was? This closet isn't very big, I wouldn't think a grown woman would fit in here, plus there were more easily accessible teachers he could have gotten to."

Rossi raised his eyebrows. "Maybe the unsub has a student in her class?"

Hotch nodded. "Let's find out who's in her class and if there have been any problems in the past with the parents."

They turned to leave when heavy footsteps running down the hall caught their attention as a large body came barreling into the classroom. A large man stood there out of breath, visibly shaking.

"Y/N. Where is she?" The man said just as Rossi spoke.

"Jesse?"

-------------------------- ~~ ----------------------------

"She has just a small concussion, nothing major. Just monitor her for the rest of the night." The doctor told Spencer and Morgan, who had been waiting for Y/N to be released from the hospital.

"Spencer, Hotch wants one of us to stay with her tonight. From what it's looking like, it's not just a random attack." Morgan said after the doctor left.

Spencer nodded, and him and Morgan waited outside of your room while you got ready. Once you were through, you checked out of the hospital and headed back to your apartment. Police officers were stationed outside of your apartment door, and you looked at Spencer questioningly.

"It's for your safety. Let's head inside."

Y/N nodded and was about to head inside when she heard her name called behind her. Turning around, Jesse stood there down the hallway with a worried look on his face.

"Y/N... I've been so worried about you." He came closer to you and ran a hand through his hair. "They wouldn't let me see you at the hospital."

"Jesse..." You started to say, but Jesse spoke, interrupting you.

"Let me stay the night? I want to make sure you're okay."

"Jesse," you sighed, "Spencer is going to stay the night with me. I'm fine. Please get home safely."

Jesse flexed his hands and curled them into fists. "You're going to let him spend the night with you? After how he's treated you. Come on, Y/N, just let me spend the night."

You looked up at Spencer, nervously crossing your arms around your body, hoping that he would see that you were uncomfortable. He looked down at you and cleared his throat. "Jesse, she'll be okay. It's late, why don't you go home? She'll have two police officers posted outside of her door tonight."

Jesse laughed angrily. "Sure, I'll see you tomorrow." He spat then stormed off.

Spencer turned to look at you worriedly. "Is he normally that angrily?"

"No, he's been getting that way since I broke things off." You said, rubbing your arms from the sudden chill you felt. "He's been coming by the apartment excessively for the past two weeks begging for me to let him in, but I haven't. He's even left me gifts outside my door."

Spencer nodded and brought you inside the apartment, "Why don't you go pack some of your belongings that you'd need for a few days? I'll be right here."

He watched you walk into your bedroom before calling Hotch. "Hey, look into Jesse Hammers. The last two weeks, he's been coming to the apartment trying to get in or leaving gifts after she ended things. He showed up to the apartment tonight and got angry when she rejected his offer to spend the night."

"Yeah, he showed up at the school earlier and got upset when we had him leave. Got even angrier when we wouldn't tell him where she was. We'll keep a close eye on him."

"Spence?" He turned around to see you standing by the couch with an overnight bag.

"Y/N, does Jesse know where I live?" You shook your head no. "Hotch, I'm going to take her to another location. Can we get a decoy in the apartment?"

"You want to make it seem like she's in the apartment?"

"Yes. I'll leave the lights on to make it seem like someone is here." Spencer said his goodbyes and hung up. His expression softened when he saw the look of fear on your face.

"You think it's Jesse?" Your voice barely a whisper.

Spencer cleared his throat before saying, "We don't know, but we are going to do anything to make sure you're okay."

You nodded and moved closer to Spencer, who unconsciously wrapped his arms around, holding you close. You nuzzled your head into his chest and let yourself take a deep breath and relaxed for the first time that day.

"It's late. Let's get you out of here." Spencer took hold of your hand and got the all clear from the two officers outside your door before getting you into his apartment.

It's been months since you were last in his place, but it still looked the same. You took a deep breath in. The smell of Spencer filled your lungs and gave you a sense of calm. You set your stuff down on the couch as Spencer locked the door and then drew all the shades in the apartment. He turned on a few lamps but kept the place mostly dark.

"Get some sleep, I'll be here if you need."

Spencer sat down on the couch, grabbing a book from the coffee table. He could hear you tossing and turning, but within an hour, you were asleep, small snores coming from his bedroom. He was happy you felt safe enough to fall asleep, and soon his eyes started to droop, and he succumbed to a dream land.

What awoke him next was the sound of two gunshots. He quickly sprang up, heading to his bedroom to check on you. You were wrapped up in a blanket standing by the door with a scared look on your face. Spencer held a finger to his lips, signaling for you to stay quiet.

He grabbed your hand and brought you to the bedroom's bathroom. "Stay in here. Call Garcia, tell her to get Hotch." He whispered. Spencer handed you his phone, then gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and left before you could process anything that had happened.

Your hands shook as you unlocked his phone and dialed Penelope's number. "Heyo, what can I-"

"Penn, shots were fired at Spencer's place... Send help, please."

"Sending them your way, love. Stay on the phone with me."

Spencer looked through the peep hole of his door while quietly unlocking it. He slowly opened the door and cleared the hallway before checking on the two officers that were shot down. One was dead, but the other bleeding. "Apply pressure here." Spencer said as he sat the police officer up and put the officer's hand up to his shoulder. "Did you see who did this?"

"Yeah, that guy from earlier who got upset and left. Came back one more time after you guys left, demanding to come in. He left and then came back. We told him to go home, and that's when he shot at us." The officer grunted. "I'll radio for help."

Spencer nodded, then got up, making his way in through the half opened door. The living room was clear, along with the kitchen. He then made his way to the bedroom, where he found a female officer alive and unconscious on the floor. He went to clear the bathroom when he heard a body hitting the floor from the hallway.

Creeping up to the door, he saw the officer he just helped lying on the ground, bleeding from his head where it looked like he was hit from a pistol. He stepped over the officer and noticed his door was opened, and then a scream filled the silent air.

Rushing forward, quickly clearing the rooms, he headed to the bedroom where he found Jesse pinning Y/N to the wall, a hand around her throat, slightly lifting her up off the ground.

"Jesse, FBI, put her down."

Jesse laughed, continuing to look at Y/N and not even bothering with Spencer. "Go ahead, shoot. But once you do, you'll hit both of us. If you shoot me, you also shoot her, so go ahead."

Footsteps coming into the apartment could be heard, and soon the team was behind Spencer, guns drawn. You turned your eyes to look at the team, seeing Spencer's eyes locked onto you with a worried but determined look on his face.

"Jesse," Blake spoke, "we know how you're feeling."

"How do you know? I know all about you. She won't shut up about you. None of you know how I'm feeling." He roared, tightening his hold on you, as he pointed the tip of his gun to your temple, causing a cry to slip through your lips as the cold metal touched skin.

"She rejected you, and now you're upset, which is totally understandable, but doing this won't help." Hotch said, walking closer to Spencer.

JJ spoke up next. "Why don't you let her go. Keeping her like this won't make her not reject you."

"Shut up!" Jesse screamed, pressing the gun harder to your head and his hold on your neck tighten, your lungs gasping for air as the tips of your toes no longer touched the ground.

"Jesse," Rossi chimed in, "We know you care for Y/N. You don't want to see her hurt. That's why you're upset about her spending the night with Spencer. That's why you came back tonight, right? That's why you came to the school and left her a gift. You knew she left you because of her feelings for someone else. You didn't want her to get hurt again like she did before. That's why you were going to take her away, so you tied her up and knocked her unconscious."

Jesse slammed your head against the wall. A scream pierced the room as he slammed your head once more. "It was the only way to keep her safe." He said through gritted teeth, spit flying into your face. "The way he eyed her at the club that night. I had to watch him watch her, and even though her attention was on me, I knew it was for him. I watched for months as she hung on to his every word, waiting for him while he talked to someone, watching as he slowly let her go. I had to step in. Can't you see just how precious she is?" He turned away from you, his hand slowly letting go of your neck as he turned to face Spencer.

The gun was still pressed against your head, and his body was covering yours. You knew if they shot, the bullet would hit you too. Your weekly trips with Blake to the gun range helped you understand that there was no way you would make it out unharmed if any of them took a shot, and they all knew it and so did he. It was a suicide mission. He would take you down with him if he had to. You read enough behavioral books because of Spencer to understand what Jesse was doing and what the team was doing to get him to calm down.

By now, the conversation they were having had blurred as your brain racked what was happening, and your lungs took in as much air as they could while he choked you. You took in a shaky breath as you turned your head slightly to look over at everyone.

"Let her go, Jesse. We both want her safe. You know, if we shoot that she gets shot also. You don't want to lose her. I know what you want. Let her go and take me. It's me you're mad at." Spencer said, putting his gun back into its holster. Jesse smirked, and you could see the hatred in his eyes, and you knew what he would do if he got his hands onto Spencer. And you couldn't let him do that.

But hearing what Spencer said, it triggered something in your brain. Anger. He said the same thing during the standoff with Maeve. He was treating you like you were her. Helpless and fragile. He couldn't bear to lose you because of how fragile he was, not because you were fragile. He wanted to rewrite what happened a few months ago with Maeve. He wanted a happy ending. He wanted to save the girl.

But you weren't Maeve.

And you didn't want to be treated like such.

You rebuilt yourself up all these months that Spencer was gone. You spent the last two weeks handling Jesse. Sure, it wasn't as long as what Maeve had, but you weren't going to hide away. You had a life to live, and you were going to live it. Jesse was a road block, but you sure as hell weren't going to let him stop you, and you weren't going to let Spencer treat you like you were still the shy, fragile girl he met all those months ago.

But he loved that girl. That was the girl who led to some of the best moments you have. The biggest smiles, too much laughter in one moment, and the large amount of love that grew for him. And you didn't want to see him get hurt again, not by Maeve, not by Jesse and not by you. You knew getting angry at Spencer right now wasn't smart, but it might help get Jesse to back down so he wouldn't hurt Spencer if he got his hands on him.

"Don't treat me like I'm her, Spencer." You spat. "I don't want you taking my place just so you can write a wrong. I'm not her, and I would never want to be."

You could see the hurt flash across your face and JJ nervously whispering your name as the room fell silent. Jesse turned to look at you, analyzing your face like it was a puzzle to be solved. You could see the wheels turning in his mind, just like Spencer was, trying to comprehend what you were doing. So you decided to push.

"I hate you, Spencer. I hate how you treated me for someone who couldn't even face you. Who couldn't even tell you the truth, or anyone else the truth. Look at where that got her and her ex-fiance. I loved you so much, but you threw it away for a voice on the phone." Spencer's face was morphing into something you wish you never had to see -pure agony. You knew every word hurt him, some of it the truth, but you could see the smirk starting to form on Jesse's lips, so you continued. "Jesse, at least, didn't hide his feelings. Told me what he wanted and didn't make me wait. I was too afraid to be hurt again, so I rejected you, Jesse, but you make me happy. I want to start over."

Jesse turned around to face you, his body still in a position that didn't allow for a clean shot if needed. He smiled down at you, which normally would make you smile but right now it made you want to throw up but you forced a smile on your face as one of your hands let go in his arm and went up to cup his cheek.

"Really?" He whispered.

You nodded, swallowing the vomit that was coming up at the thought of being with the man who had stalked you. "Really."

Jesse's hand let go of your throat, and the hand with the gun dropped to his side. His body still covered yours, so as he bent down to bring his face to yours, you did the most stupidest thing you ever done.

You rammed your knee into his groin.

It took a second for him to bend down as the pain shot up through his body, and you took your fist and punched into his diaphragm, causing him to gasp out as the air left his body. You reached for the gun, twisting your body around as his arm twisted, trying to hold onto the cold metal object. You took your heel and slammed it down between where his shin met his ankle and you slammed your elbow into his stomach area once more, causing him to lose his grip just enough for you to take the gun out of his hands.

Collapsing on the ground, breathing heavy as panic set in, you pointed the gun at him, his eyes growing wide as realization hit in.

"Y/N..." He whispered, confused, his knees collapsing beneath him. Morgan and Hotch grabbed him quickly, cuffing him up. They dragged him out as he screamed your name over and over

JJ and Blake rushed over to you, Blake taking the gun from your hand as JJ held you close as you broke down.

Rossi walked up to a stunned Spencer, who watched as both girls tried to calm you down. "Go to her. She needs you."

"You heard her. She hates me." Spencer said, turning away from you and headed to the bedroom door.

Rossi grabbed his arm, stopping him and pulled him close. "She said those things to protect you. She knew he would've killed you the second you gave yourself to him. She's the one who's loved you all these months. Go to her."

Spencer turned his head back to look at you, wrapped in a ball as JJ rocked you gently.

Before he knew what he was doing, his feet brought him over to you, crouching down next to you as Blake gave him space. His arms wrapped around your body and pulled you away from JJ and close to his body. "You're okay, Y/N. No one will ever hurt you again. Just cry it out."

You clung to his small frame and sobbed, your cries echoing throughout the apartment. Spencer shushed you as he stroked your hair. He pulled you on his lap and gently rocked you until your cries calmed down and the tears didn't flow as hard.

"You're okay, sweetheart. I won't let anyone hurt you."

An hour went by, and your body had eventually calmed itself down, but you still clung to Spencer. "Y/N, we have to get up. We need to get you checked out by the EMTs, okay?" You nodded slowly, not wanting to leave the warmth and safety of Spencer's arms. But before you could get up, Spencer hoisted you up and awkwardly got to his feet and carried you out and down the apartment building's stairs. The cold making you both shiver as you neared the building's front door.

"I'm sorry..." Spencer whispered, not looking at you. "I shouldn't have treated you like I did. I should've realized how stupid I was being. I hurt you, and I was too blind to see it."

"Spence..." Your voice barely audible through the wind.

"Y/N... I love you. It took me a while to understand that these feelings were more than just platonic. That I was scared to ruin what we had that I jumped to someone who made me feel even a fraction of what you made me feel. When I got the call from you today, it made my feelings and worries more apparent to me. I can't lose you. If I did, I'd lose myself. There would be nothing else in this world that could make me smile or feel loved. Not in the way that you do."

"Spencer." You said louder, even though your throat made it hard.

He finally looked down at you and stopped walking. You undid one of your hands that was wrapped around his shoulder and brought it up to his cheek. You ran your thumb over his sharp cheekbones and gave him the first smile you had all day. "I understand. I forgive you."

Spencer's face broke out into the biggest smile, and he kissed the top of your head. "Let's get you checked out."

-------------------------- ~~ ----------------------------

"Spencer, I swear to whoever is out there in the universe, if you don't get up, I'm leaving here without you!"

Spencer groaned and blinked his eyes, trying to focus. He could hear you yelling from the other room about getting up, but the smell from your bed was intoxicating, and he didn't want to leave it.

It's been half a year since he told you his feelings and everything with Jesse had gone down.

Things were better. Some days, you had your doubts and fears, and you would panic when a door would slam, but you both worked through it together.

Spencer couldn't believe he finally was with his dream girl, even if he was too stupid to notice it for so long, and he wasn't going to take it for granted. Every day was an adventure with you, and he loved every second of it.

He annoyingly got out of bed and got ready for the day to walk out of your bedroom to find you curled up on the window seat reading. You were wearing a floral dress with your hair slightly curled, and you looked gorgeous. He wondered how he got so lucky because you were always able to take his breath away.

You looked up from your book, and you gave him a smile. You got up and made your way over, wrapping your arms around him and breathing in his scent. It always made you calm, and you never wanted to go too long without it. When Spencer was away on cases, you'd go over to his place so he'd always be near, even if he physically wasn't. He was your happy place.

"You look so good. Are you sure we have to go?" Spencer mumbled into your hair.

"Sadly, yes." He unwinded his arms from you and have you a pout. "Come on, maybe if you're lucky, you'll get the corner piece of the cake."

"Maybe if I'm lucky, I'll get a piece of something else." He whispered, watching you walk away towards the door.

"I heard that." You called, walking out the door, causing him to rush behind you and quickly catching up to you so he could wrap his arms around you from behind.

His hands traveled around your body as he lips found their way to your neck, causing you to moan as he kissed his way around your neck. "See, this is way more fun than a kids' party."

You groaned. "Spence, you know that gets me every time."

"I know." He whispered his breath on your neck, sending goosebumps down your body. He pulled away and gave you a small kiss on the check as he gave a light squeeze to your body. He took your hand in his and smiled. "Come on, I want that end piece of cake."

You laughed, walking towards the stairs, and Spencer gave a light smack to your butt. "Spence!" You shouted, chasing him down the stairs, both of you laughing.

You both never thought you'd be this happy, especially with someone. Never thought you'd love someone this much. Someone who you could be yourself around and love you unconditionally.

Spencer stopped running and grabbed you, twirling you around. He stopped, his lips touching yours as he breathed heavy. "I love you, Y/N... I'm never letting this go."

"I love you too, Spencer."

He stroked your hair. "I'll always be there for you, sweetheart." His lips connected to yours, giving you the softest kiss as you mumbled out.

"And, I'll always be there for you."

Let me know what you think down below! I'd appreciate it! Seeing part one blow up like it did and seeing notifications daily that someone liked or reblogged my work makes me so incredibly happy. Thank you liking the things i come up with!!!! Wishing ya'll happiness and love -lizzy

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@kylakins88

@katieannrichards

@taygrls

@vivi-wtz

@nofacenonamelikekira

[marinettesaltprompts]

Cat in the Belfry (Part 1)

Adribaten x Gotham City Sirens

Prompt by @somereaderinblue

OP NOTE: I got sent this prompt but posted them in the wrong order. Sorry😅

Instead of Marinette/LB going to Gotham & finding the Batfam, what if Adrien did it instead? So, Fu & LB continue to leave CN out of the loop. Their partnership deteriorates thanks to secrets, miscommunication & the whole Lila dilemma. In their civilian life, Mari’s already written Adrien off as a ‘traitor’ & gives him the cold shoulder whenever he tries to be civil or offer some modicum of support outside of class. One day, CN tries to ask LB if she’s made any headway on HM’s ID & she blows up on him, ranting abt how stressed she is from her responsibilities as the Guardian, hero & team leader and verbally attacking him, calling him a bad hero, a worse sidekick & a nuisance. 

CN is hurt. He’s dialed back on the flirting, esp after Plagg gave a stern talk abt boundaries when Lila went too far. He fires back at LB that she wouldn’t be so stressed if she let him help only for her to once again remind him of all his shortcomings. They go back & forth until LB just yoyos away.

Adrien decides that if she won’t let him help her, he’ll do it on his own. Instead of hiring a normal PI, he takes it a step further: tracking down the Bat Family themselves. The fact that his dad is going on a business trip to Gotham soon is the perfect opportunity.

He tells LB he’ll be absent. She scoffs, unsurprised that he’s ‘slacking off’ & smugly says she’ll get the temps to fill in for him. At least they know how to do their jobs & respect her leadership. Instead of anger or jealousy, CN just feels….pity. And worry the more he imagines the temps doing what he does: being the distractions at best & meatshields at worst.

He has to find the Batfam ASAP.

Here’s where some deconstruction kicks in. He tells himself he’ll wait for the Batfam to show up at a crime scene. While looking for said scene, he stumbles upon Catwoman who’s fighting with Penguin over a relic both of them want to steal. CN intervenes to save the relic & can’t help but save Catwoman too. Then the cherry on top comes: Firefly who decides to burn the place down bcz clearly someone has to die tonight.

Luckily, before CN could lose 1 of his 9 lives, Harley & Ivy arrive as Catwoman’s getaway & CN is brought along for the ride. Cue a car chase that’s intense enough to push CN into unlocking a new ability: Black Storm. Plagg is so proud.

And that’s how CN found himself sitting in Ivy’s greenhouse, stroking Bud & Lou while Harley demands Selina explain who how when & where she got her new stray. Sipping Ivy’s herbal tea, he awkwardly clears his throat & reveals he’s looking for the Batfam. Harley continues to prod until CN ends up telling her everything.

“You must think I’m crazy.” he says at the end….only to remember he’s talking to Harley Quinn & 2 other women who were born in Gotham and bred to bleed for it.

This leads to some research & after seeing footage of the fights and more concerningly, the imbalanced power dynamic, Harley asks CN more questions that confirm their worst fears: that he’s unknowingly being abused & worse, has likely been abused before he put on the mask. 

It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but the Sirens show him more support than he’s gotten since Plagg. It’s already 5 AM but those hours he’s spent with them got months worth of stress off his chest. Sadly, all things must come to an end & he reluctantly prepares to leave.

S: Are you still going to look for the Bats?

CN: I have to try. 

S: Wait, you told us Hawkmoth’s source of power is a piece of jewelry, right?

CN: Yeah, a brooch. Why?

Selina gives him a cheshire grin & he realizes that detectives could solve mysteries but thieves could steal jewelry. Plus, Selina loved a challenge & what could possibly be bigger than magical jewelry? Payment-wise, Adrien had already accumulated some Gabriel accessories to pawn off. Also, compared to the vigilantes, Selina has more freedom to leave Gotham.

(Selina would also be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit tempted to see more of CN’s potential.)

And thus, Selina books a ticket to Paris. Oh, and Harley & Ivy come too. Time to psychoanalyze the hell out of the Parisians & check out the gardens.

[password-door-lock]

As soon as Saeran gets his hands on his new driver’s license, he makes the drive into the city to pick you up from work.

A lot has changed since Saeran was first liberated from Mint Eye three years ago. After leaving the hospital, he was given a simple new identity, a passport inscribed with a name that did not belong to him. He could use it for doctors’ appointments and other necessary paperwork, but it did not permit him to operate a motor vehicle. For those first two years, it was clear that Saeyoung didn’t trust his brother in a car. He didn’t say those words exactly, but the sentiment was made obvious by his refusal to furnish Saeran with a driver’s license of any kind. 

A year ago, however, Saeyoung started to get more comfortable with the idea of Saeran driving, and he began to suggest that Saeran take the wheel for short trips between venues where law enforcement was not likely to be present. As Saeran’s natural red hair began to grow back in, Saeyoung began to grow more confident in the universal utility of his own falsified driver’s license, should the need arise for the twin behind the wheel to provide identification. He also came to understand that Saeran wasn’t likely to get pulled over, though he still had nerves about unsupervised trips. 

Then, everything changed. A few months after Saeran started driving again, somebody at C&R discovered a flash drive containing a file marked with Saeyoung’s name. Within a week, the Prime Minister was arrested for holding vast sums of money in offshore accounts. Within a month, such items as high treason, conspiracy, and even attempted murder were added to the list of charges. By the time the bastard was finally brought to justice, he was being held accountable for almost all of his crimes. 

This, at least, was what you reported from your conversations with top personnel at C&R— neither Saeran nor Saeyoung had any interest in opening the file knowing where it came from. Who it came from, in particular, but Saeran tries not to think about that. He’s come a long way, but his journey to healing and self-forgiveness is far from over. It’s better not to dwell on the things for which he still blames himself, especially not on happy occasions such as this one.

So now, Saeran has a brand new ID, and he can’t wait to show it to you. He drives Saeyoung’s least garish car— which is still painted an annoyingly bright color, but jewel-toned purple is a lot better than tomato red, lemon yellow, or neon fucking green— to your workplace and parks it outside. Saeran has practically memorized your schedule by now, so he knows he got here at the perfect time. Not only do you write your hours on the calendar hanging on the wall beside the spice cupboard in your kitchen, but you always make sure to call Saeran right away when you get done.

Like clockwork, his phone rings as soon as he shifts the car into park. “Hey,” he greets you. He’s not really one for gushy pet names, but you know this about Saeran already. “Don’t buy a train ticket.” 

“Why not?” You ask, sounding concerned. “Did something happen? Is there—”

���Nothing like that,” Saeran cuts you off, not wanting you to worry. He may not be the most vibrant person in the world, but that doesn’t mean he’s cold or heartless. “I’m outside.” 

He watches as you step out of your place of business. You look around, confused. “Where? I’m at the east side of the building, by the back entrance— are you out front? It might take me a minute to get over there.”

Saeran smirks, prepared to drop his bombshell. He’s looking forward to your passionate response. “I’m in the purple car.”

“The one with the after-market tail lights and the orange racing stripes?” 

Unfortunately, yes. “Mhm.” Already, Saeran is thinking about the possibility of getting his own car— he’ll be sure to pick a black one. Maybe grey, if he’s hard-pressed. Even a champagne-colored car would be better than this. 

“I only see one of you.” You rush over nevertheless, lugging your heavy work bag. Your phrasing is a bit awkward, but Saeran knows what you mean. You've never seen him behind the wheel before without Saeyoung also in the car. “Is Saeyoung hiding in the backseat? This isn’t some kind of prank is it, love?” 

Saeran’s lips twitch the way they always do when you call him love. Pet names and terms of endearment tend to feel clunky in his own mouth, even after all this time, but he doesn’t hate them when they come from you. “No. I’m waiting for you on my own.” 

You slide into the passenger seat and hang up the phone. “You’re telling me you voluntarily took the car with the after-market tail lights and the orange racing stripes?” 

Saeran wrinkles his nose. He likes when you’re silly, but he doesn’t want to hold you in suspense about his good news any longer. “I’m telling you I got this in the mail today.” He grabs his driver’s license and holds it out to you.

Your eyes widen as you read the text on the card. “Saeran… Choi,” you recite, “This is… this is your real name! Does that mean—” 

“The government knows about us now,” Saeran confirms. He and Saeyoung are finally free to exist out of hiding, living their own lives with their real names.

“Oh no, poor Saeyoung,” you contradict your utterance with a grin, handing the card back to Saeran, “He’s gonna have to start paying taxes now. So sad.” 

Saeran snorts. “C&R could still help him evade them.” He’s grown comfortable with your sense of humor after spending so much time with you. It’s nice to play back and forth now that he has a better understanding of the world he lives in.

“Well, see, now, that would just be tax evasion,” you laugh, easily and languidly, “Which is highly frowned upon, you know? Anyway, congratulations on your license. Now you can go anywhere you want, any time you want… with anyone you want.” 

“And I could get my own car,” Saeran muses. That’s going to be his next order of business, now that he’s told you the good news. 

“A black one, right?” You already guessed what he’d want without him having to tell you. “If you want, we can keep it at my building— we’ve got a garage. You know, just so it’s in the same place as your toothbrush and your library books and your significant other.” 

Saeran laughs at that, too. He knows you could be more subtle if you tried— you’re making this type of joke because you’d be perfectly content whether he accepted the offer or not. You've never pressured him to do anything before, and you're clearly not about to start now. “Now that I can prove I exist, you could add me to your lease.” That’s another thing he’s been thinking about a lot. He sleeps at your place most nights anyway, so it wouldn’t be very much of a change. 

“Well, that’s just common sense.” You lean over to kiss him on the cheek before pulling away. “Anyway, I’m starving— should we go get some dinner? But you’ve gotta drive, since I'm already buckled in." You make a big show of buckling your seatbelt.

Saeran rolls his eyes at your playful comment. He’s never felt more free.

[dicenote]

touta matsuda

discuss

omg YES ty! This is gonna be a long, disorganized ramble, so bear with me!

Touta Matsuda. My blorbo, skrunky scrimblo, love of my life, etc.

There are so many things about Matsuda's character that I could talk about. His impulsivity, his loyalty, his uncertainty... All of it makes a very real and very interesting character. And I think that a lot of his traits shine in one of the most horrifying scenes from his perspective: the Yellow Box Warehouse.

Like, let's take a step back and look at the numbers here. On one side of the warehouse, we've got a guy claiming to be L, and the three members of the old Kira Task Force that he brought with him. On the other side, we've got a different guy claiming to be L and three members of the SPK that he brought with him (oh. and the guy from the Task Force that got kidnapped in the mix). Outside, Kira's accomplice is lying in wait. So we've got ten people in all who are ready for the final showdown. The reveal. The evidence that will finally end this years-long nightmare and point to the true identity of Kira.

And of those 10 people, only one of them doesn't have a clue who Kira really is.

Light is Kira. Mikami is X-Kira and finds out who Kira is as soon as he looks in the room. Near and the SPK are all on the same page. Mogi and Aizawa know. Ide's a bit more on the fence but he wasn't completely in the dark. So Matsuda is the only one who goes in totally blind.

If anyone were to re-write Death Note purely from Matsuda's perspective, the Warehouse scene would go from tense to horrifying. To (nearly) everyone else there, this confrontation isn’t meant to reveal an unexpected truth, it’s to confirm something that they already know. But for Matsuda? Near's request to meet at the warehouse is, at worst, a tactic to once again frame Light. Because Light obviously can't be Kira, right? Light will show Near that he's wrong, and the investigation will continue as normal until the real Kira is caught.

But then Near presents that irrefutable evidence, and everything that Matsuda knew for over five years comes crumbling down. Light starts monologuing about how the world had to be fixed and how no one could ever make it as far as he did. Kira and Light are one and the same. Matsuda always thought that Kira was a well-intentioned person who was helping change the world. Ide and Aizawa and Mogi believed that Kira was evil, they were much stronger in their resolve than Matsuda ever could be. But Light had confessed to him once that he too questioned if what they were doing was right. If Kira was doing right.

Light has always been Kira.

And then comes the absolutely tasty part where Matsuda shoots Light. I love how chapter 106 is called "Intent to Kill", because it reminds me of how Matsuda and Light are foils to each other. Better yet, they can be compared against a man they both held such deep respect for, Soichiro Yagami.

See, Soichiro threatens to kill people a good couple times, and even holds a gun to his son's face, but he never has any intent to kill. In fact, he's never killed anyone, as (I think) Mello points out. It's almost kind of silly. Like, Soichiro draws the line at firing bullets or writing full names in the Death Note, and that's it? Everything else is fair game? Weird line to draw, but go off I guess.

Light, meanwhile, justifies killing thousands. But only with the Death Note. With the Death Note, his intent to kill becomes a righteous one, another step on the path to becoming God of a New World. The criminals deserved to die. Those who get in Kira's way deserve to die. Because Light isn't a serial killer. He's doing the right thing! Crime is going down, war has stopped, and Light is the only one who could have possibly gone this far and done this much good.

And then we're back to Matsuda. I believe the mafia raid is the first time we see Matsuda using a gun, and we see that he's damn good at it. So good, in fact, that he's able to fire only non-lethal shots to get the Death Note back. (Also, fun tidbit: I'm pretty sure he's the only one who doesn't go into the raid with a rifle, he's just got like, a standard-issue cop pistol with a light on it.) The same thing happens in the warehouse, at least initially. He fires at Light's hand to get him to stop writing. Then he and Light yell at each other for a little bit about (who else?) Soichiro. Light demands that Matsuda shoot the others, because he's the only one who understands Kira. When Matsuda hesitates, Light resumes writing Near's name. Then Matsuda fires again and again and again. Anything to make Light stop. Anything to make it all stop. But it becomes obvious that he's not just shooting Light as a deterrent. What does Matsuda say as he's doing it?

"He needs to die!"

The others literally have to drag Matsuda away before he can execute Light on the spot.

Matsuda is a character full of contradictions. He dedicates over half a decade to fighting Kira, but he doubts the whole time. He tries to follow in Soichiro's footsteps but in the end makes the same justification that Light did when he first started writing in the Death Note. This man is a criminal. He deserves to die. The Yellow Box Warehouse not only exposed Light's true colors, but Matsuda's as well.

[deartetsuro]

req - hq characters (kuroo lol) saying 'i know, baby, i know' when babying/comforting yn. ervyabebwyrogbrw

please feel no rush/pressure for this and look after yourself :)

Ok igotchu pookie HWJSHAHAHS cuz I need it too. This one goes out to the girlies who crave academic validation 😋 (me)

Song: Mahal Kape Tayo — EJ Clarks, Tothapi

(this one is cute, it's basically "Love, let's go have some coffee" it's a very nice song comfort song and to just wind down to.)

Tags: hurt/comfort, being rejected from a school you really wanted to get into, still living with ur parents, your parents love him, fussy school systems, established relationship, fluff, lots of feels.

You sit down in front of your laptop in your room excitedly, squirming in your seat in anticipation waiting for the results of your college entrance test for your dream school. You studied really hard for those tests and made sure to maintain your GWA, and participate in extra curriculars so it'd look good in your admission application.

The portal finally loads, and you are prompted to enter your test ID to see if you were qualified for admission into your chosen programs.

Your heart sinks your eyes immediately lock onto the apology in the first line "We regret to inform you that after careful deliberation you have not met the standards set to be qualified for your chosen programs..." Something in you shattered, you did not qualify for even one program? "What...?"

You end up shutting off and closing the laptop before you have a chance to be sad about it, choosing not to process such news just yet. And the rest of the day ends up feeling like a fever dream. Just going through the motions, unwilling to accept what had just happened.

You snap out of your trance when your messages are being spammed by your boyfriend.

Tetsuro: Babe

Tetsuro: Baby

Tetsuro: Love

Tetsuro: I saw the post made by (insert university), and saw that the results just came out. How'd it go?

Tetsuro: I bet you passed for sure. Congratulations🥳

You decide not to beat around the bush and give it to him straight.

You: I didn't get in.

The chat bubble that signifies he's typing goes on and off, and finally stops for a while. Second turn into minutes, and you realize he went offline. (💀)

You wonder why he's taking so long. You lay in your bed moping, no tears yet, stuck between "I wanna break down and cry." and "I wanna do something about it."

Sure, you could send an appeal. But the thing is, the school, and programs you chose was highly competitive. What if you're met with yet another rejection?

After a while there's commotion that stirs outside your window, and you brush it off as your neighbors coming to have a chat with your parents. That is, until you hear your mother call out your name and say "Come outside! My son is here."

You sit in your bed confused, you think, Huh?? Duh, my brother lives with us what are you talking about? I see him all day everyday.

But you reluctantly get up and go see what she's talking about anyway. Upon leaving your room and exiting the house through the front door, you're surprised to see Tetsuro standing there with your parents holding a bouquet of flowers, and paper bags stuffed with goodies in one hand.

"Look *anak, he's been looking for you." Your mom chimes in mischievously, and gives you a shit eating grin, while your father only chuckles as he pats Tetsuro's back and reminds him "No funny business." before they turn around and head out to make a grocery run.

We bid my parents goodbye, then he steps forward and gives you a boyish smile, stretching his free arm out for you. "Hi... Sorry I didn't reply right away, I had to pick some stuff up."

You let out a sigh of relief and hug him "You scared me. Who does that?" He looks at you apologetically, as he wraps his arm around you. "I know, I'm really sorry. I was out to get these, — (motioning to the flowers) — and I wanted to get some extra stuff. Please let me make it up to you."

And you do. You nod into his chest, breaking away from the hug gently to lead him into the house and into the living room. "Sit down Tetsu, I'll get you somethi—" He interrupts, helping himself to our kitchen counter, placing down the flowers and paper bag. "No worries love, I got it. You've had a long day, just kick back and relax."

His words send a wave of warmth throughout your chest, finding comfort in him. You move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you whisper a small thank you into his shirt.

He smiles as he starts working on replacing the old flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter. He unwraps the new flowers, and arranges them, albeit a little messily, into the vase. You look over his shoulder, "It looks beautiful Tetsu." He smiles, giving it one last touch before setting it back to it's original spot. "I'm glad you think so." Your eyes follow his form as he goes to wash his hands before reaching into the paper bag to reveal...

"Now how does coffee and ice cream sound?" You can only giggle as he lifts up a whole tub of cookies and cream ice cream, and a jar of my favorite coffee. "That sounds like an amazing idea Tetsuro~"

He pulls a chair for me and he moves on to fix us our mugs of coffee the way we both like it. Setting my mug and a spoon down in front of me, and taking his seat beside me. "Here's your order miss~ And some ice cream, on the house." Rolling my eyes at his playful tone. "Gee thanks Tetsu..." He just chuckles and opens up the ice cream for the two of you as you dig in.

It's sweet really, how he put comfort before confronting the problem, allowing you to process what was going on. Patiently waiting for you to open up to him as to not overwhelm you.

"So... Do you want to talk about it?" There it is, the dreaded question. "About what?" "You know..." You know, and it stings really badly but you decide to play it down. "Tetsuro I'm okay. There are other universities..."

Tetsuro looks at you knowingly, but instead of speaking, he just pulls you into his embrace instead, in his embrace where you felt safe enough to be vulnerable. Through this simple action, he'd allowed you to acknowledge the squeeze in your heart when thinking about the joyous reaction of those accepted into their priority courses.

To feel your frustration, sadness, and even envy, as the weight of your own expectations crash down on you. "I worked so hard for this Tetsuro..." You sob into his chest, grasping at the fabric to anchor yourself. "All those late nights studying for the test, trying to maintain my GWA, all while participating in extra curriculars! I want nothing more than to be able to go there..." You bury yourself into his embrace, and he rubs your back.

"I know baby, I know." He pulls away to cup your cheeks, making eye contact. "I was there baby. I saw you, and I remember very clearly. There were times I had to remind you to sleep because you were up late studying." His eyes soften as he wipes your tears gently with his thumbs.

"Or to remind you to eat because you forgot about lunch while working for a project. Or walking you home because your training for contests didn't ent til 6pm and I didn't want you going home on your own that late."

"The thing is, I know for a fact that you are one of the most hardworking, — and not to mention, loveliest — students out there. So what if some automated university admission program can't see your worth then so what? Things won't always go the way we envision them, but I know you. I see you. And you are able to thrive no matter where you go."

His words were sincere. You could tell from the conviction in his eyes, and you can't help but crack a smile through your tears. "Damnit Tetsuro... I was trying to have an emotional moment just now... You sure know how to cheer me up."

Planting a chaste kiss on his lips, and leaning back into his embrace. "Thank you Tetsuro." The blush that takes over his face doesn't go unnoticed. "You're right. I'll thrive in whatever environment I'm put in. After all, it's the students that make the school. Not the other way around, right?"

"Hah~ you're absolutely correct. That's my girl. I'm always so proud of you. Now how about we finish this ice cream before it melts?" You both share a laugh, before going back to eating your ice cream. The coffee long gone cold, but the warmth he brings to your chest makes up for it.

You were so grateful to have him. Though the situation planted a bitter taste in your mouth, to be loved by him left an overpoweringly sweet aftertaste. Being loved by him is reminiscent of the warmth that meets your lips from drinking a good cup of coffee.

*anak, meaning my child

[Here's a little excerpt from the song that I really like! And the translation hehe]

Wag kang mag-alala, maupo ka lang. Pagtitimpla kita. Mahal kape tayo, ang ating paborito. Ang lasang 'di nagbabago, tamis at init ng pag-ibig ko, para sayo

Don't worry, just sit down, and I'll fix you a cup of coffee. My love, let's get some coffee, our favorite. The taste that doesn't change, the sweetness and warmth of my love for you.

HI MY LOVES I kinda went nuts on this one. HWJFKED sort of self indulgent??? Not beta-read btw. Point out whatever mistakes you see. Anw I was inspired by a post by a college applicant who got rejected by UP despite passing the UPCAT bc apparently her school wasn't well known, hence less credible, and had less graduates than public high schools. Ok bye ILY ALL

[ask-team-misfit]

[ in response to this ; @ask-the-lywelles ]

He didn't respond. Not vocally, that is.

His face that had changed from deep-seated anger to hurt and grief, even eyeing the scarf like he longed for its touch, said more than enough.

But then, he began to sense something else. He had a vague feeling there was someone else in the burrow with them.

This feeling quickly grew, and his antennae wriggled anxiously.

He smelled it.

Heard it.

iamyourdoubt asked: Safety... Such a precious thing, Lief. I don't blame you for seeking it, trying to grasp it. Who wants to go out of their way for the ungrateful, anyway? Heroes don't get paid for the risks they submit themselves to. I wouldn't worry about her. She's no longer your problem now. She's her own problem. You've had enough problems in your past, why should you involve yourself now? Why risk that safety that you craved so much? I mean, as far as I can tell, you've speak not of family and your old home for safety, done what was necessary. What's one more? You speak not of who you got that scarf from, for your safety. It's why you keep so many things close to your heart, for safety. Don't risk that, keep what you have. Safety is comforting, quiet, still. It stays here, in this home, and stays out of the way of the world outside as it crashes against itself, Lief.

[ @iamyourdoubt ]

Saw it.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Vahni, an Umbreon, and Doubt, a shadowy Ekans. Vahni is oblivious that Doubt is behind her, staring head on with surprise, and Doubt is smiling knowingly. End ID ]

The ethereal whisper that tickled his ears and filled his mind with dread, and doubt.

The illusory Ekans that appeared as if it was about to evaporate into shadowy aura, its smoky body permeating the air in the burrow and distorting it, as if it didn’t belong here.

Yet it was here, leering at him with that haunting grin, watching and waiting for his response.

It knew his name.

It likely knew everything more.

Was it one of those creatures from that day? Was even this place compromised?

He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t breathe. His fur bristled.

Lief: “I-it speaks… Those things can speak. Is this some kind of sick joke?”

And when he could speak, it was as if he were out of breath.

Lief: “Have you been following me around? Came back to finish the job?”

He appeared high-strung as he stared behind Vahni at it, his movements careful and slow as if looking for the opportunity for strike. Now on his fours upon the bed, his tail began rising somewhat.

Lief: “H-how dare you. Coming into my home, talking about safety, right before you kill me like you did her. Well, I’m not about to let you.”

He wasn’t thinking.

A pinkish aura faintly surrounded him, outlining his body in the dark of the burrow.

When he next opened his mouth, his voice came out amplified by the aura, loud and unpleasant. The aura itself let loose shockwaves, and with those waves came a painful, shrill cry.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief standing on all fours with his back arched and fur standing on end. He's shouting with his eyes closed, as Vahni in the foreground covers her ears and recoils in pain from the shockwaves. Lief's appearance is as described here. End ID ]

Lief: “Not without defending myself!”

Lief used Disarming Voice!

It’s super-effective on Vahni.

[askthewhiterocket]

Continued from here...

"Kicked around is putting it nicely," Kyo said with a chuckle. "My hands were bruised up pretty badly once they pulled me off him."

Kyo listened intently as Nat opened up a bit about his feelings in the lead up to the tournament, the precautions they'd take and how it had all been for not. "Feelings are complicated. Sometimes we behave in ways that feel uncharacteristic of ourselves. I have. There will always be people in our lives that will draw out the worst in us, the part of us we don't want other people to see. And there's no good solution to how to handle those situations. You just have to figure it out, I suppose." She shrugged. "Of course, I haven't, so what would I know."

Kyo looked over at Nat's shoulder and offered him a reassuring smile. She thought it over for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't mind. It... might be nice to share actually. Meowstic's the only other person close to me who knows."

Kyo folded her hands together and sat in silence, pondering how best to start the story. "His name was Luke Rifa. We grew up next door to each other in Driftveil, did everything together as kids. I have so many fond memories of staying up late watching princess movies together, talking about what we were going to do in the future," Kyo said, a smile spreading across her face. She gazed at the stars above them as she continued, "Got into even more trouble as teens. Smoked behind the cold storage, stole stuff from the markets, tried to convince one of the locals to give us tattoos. Typical dumb teenager stuff."

Kyo nodded her head in Meg's direction, Meowstic sitting on her shoulder. "Meowstic was actually his Pokemon, originally. We caught her together just outside Driftveil and decided to take turns caring for her. She was registered to his trainer ID though. It was his Pokeball that caught her. And, in all candor, I think she liked him better than me."

"I actually think Luke might've been my first crush, in retrospect. Though, that was long before either of us had words for what we were. And years later when we did, we both had a good laugh about how obvious the signs were. He became my most reliable wing man with the ladies and I helped him pick a name, something that felt really him."

Kyo lowered her gaze to her folded hands and took a shaky breath. "Luke's parents didn't... take it well. When they found out about my sexuality, they blamed me, saying I'd put these ideas into his head. They forbade us from seeing each other, though that didn't stop us." Kyo tightened her grip on her own hands, her knuckles turning white. "It didn't help that Luke's parents had always been hard on him. His father in particular was very tough on him, constantly pushing Luke to go into a field he considered "proper" like nursing. He was always setting Luke up on blind dates in hopes he could get Luke married to someone wealthy."

Kyo fell silent as her expression darkened. She took in another shaky breath and released her hands to take off her glasses. "Things... escalated after that. Initially, Luke's parents let him continue to live with him, but then abruptly one day they kicked him out and completely disowned him. Since my step father is good friends with Gym Leader Clay, we were able to get him into an apartment and a job at the gym. I thought everything would be fine but... in retrospect, Luke never was quite the same after that."

Tears began to trickle down Kyo's face as the walls crumpled down around her heart. She quickly tried to wipe them away with the base of her palm only to have more immediately replace them. After a moment, she gave up, simply looking at Nat. "I was the one who found him," she said quietly. "The Pokemon Center contacted me that morning saying a pokeball had been left there for me to collect. It was Meowstic, now registered under my trainer ID. I rushed to his apartment but I... I was too late."

Kyo shuddered as she drew in another deep breath. "The authorities brought in his parents as part of the usual procedure. And his father..." Kyo set her jaw, a growl rising out of her throat. "His father had the audacity to say 'Good riddance.'" Kyo balled her hands into fists, gritting her teeth as the deep seated anger rose to the surface again. "I snapped. I attacked him, right there in the police department. Knocked out a few teeth and hit him into the floor so hard he got a concussion before they got me off him. Had to go to court over that and almost lost Meowstic in the process, but they agreed to settle with community service." She shook her head. "I got lucky. Someone else without my step dad and sister's connections would've faced a far worse sentence."

Kyo rubbed a few more of the tears away from her face. "I know you're not him. But for a moment there, in Sinnoh, when that dragon hit you, I found myself back in that police department all over again, and all I could see was red." She let out a sad laugh. "And once again I got lucky that your connections were there to save me from myself."

Kyo reached over and gently placed her hand on Nat's shoulder. "Nathaniel, I know we've had our differences. Between everything you have going on here and all the shit I've got in Kanto, we're both busy as can be. But whatever it is, I will always support you. If nothing else you're welcome to come camp out under the stars in Kanto with me and Meg anytime. She'll talk your ear off with stories about the constellations well into the night."

Kyo wiped her face again with her free hand and smiled a bit. "By the Tao, that pitorro and coquito sounds really good right about now actually."

@asktheisle