#everything after the sketches took like. a week. that hurted

[couch-house]

Merger AU comic... begin!! I think I've got my comic skills to a point where I want to try doing an STC-style multi-part story. I've got it all scripted, now I just have to do it. It's a lot of work! So erm 👉👈 I'd really appreciate if you'd ♥ 💬 or 🔁 to let me know what you think :)

Confused? Don't go here? Read my fanfiction as a prologue! Or don't! This picks up right after the end of Fleetway's Sonic The Comic, so you aren't really missing much. tl;dr for basic stc lore below:

In the UK Sonic comic, Sonic transforms into Super after exposure to large amounts of chaos energy or in times of great stress. Super is a violent, chaotic monster that destroys everything and everyone he sees until he loses power and reverts back to Sonic. Halfway through the comic, Super and Sonic are physically separated. Super then loses his powers and--briefly--his memories, becoming a nice little guy who wanders Metropolis Zone getting adopted by sweet old ladies. This includes Ebony the Mystic Mog (a witch/sorceres) and Pyjamas the Psychic. They take him in as family and give him a job at Ebony's coffee bar The Groovy Train. As Super's chaos energy fades, he starts dying. Ebony takes him to find the Chaos Emeralds to heal him, but runs into the Sonic Adventure 1 plot. Super absorb's Chaos' energy and becomes evil again, until Ebony seals him away in Sonic's body.

Hopefully some of that was apparent already! The only changes I've made to canon before this point is letting Super choose a new name as Fleet :)

[cheriladycl01]

No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 2

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

As you'd promised you'd gone straight back to London, you thrown yourself into your work. You spent the days on the construction sight for the new house you were flipping, overseeing the progress. You spent the evenings in the studio working on more plans for the interior of the house.

But you did miss him, of course you missed him.

He was your person ...

Your guy...

The love of your life.

In the time that you'd come home however, videos had surfaced, many videos had surfaced...

The first was of you and Lando in the club, someone from a table across from the one your friends had been sat in showed how Lando had acted towards you and how his friends had tried to back you up. The next was of you running up to Alex, begging for a lift.

Afterwards, videos were leaked of the rest of Lando's night where he celebrated his win, by dancing with his friends and random girls that were being pulled into the big group. Nothing scandalous but enough to upset the fans who really liked you.

Later on, after the first few videos came out a video came out of Max Fewtrell and him arguing before him and Pietra left. Max actually pushed him a little and lots of hand gestures were flying round, but Lando looked just as angry as Max did.

Normally when you were in London, people knew they'd get content on your Instagram stories of you doing what you do best. People had suggested you to start a YouTube because your live's and reels were so funny that they'd definitely spend the time watching.

But you'd been dark since the argument with Lando and people were getting worried including Lando. So when you posted a titkok with your team, in the trend that AstonMartin did where the camera is up high above and you all do funny things, the media went crazy.

You then posted a video on instagram talking about the new house and the progress that was coming on.

"Hey guys! Y/N here! Just wanted to show you how the latest project is coming on. We've torn down the living room and put all new flooring in, which actually has built in underfloor heating which i think here in the UK is a real money move. We're going to hook it all up to a central network from the hallway as you walk in, which we finally finished the painting for that last week" you pan showing the round the areas you'd been talking about.

You showed you and one of the girls tearing down the kitchen.

Captioned 'Best Part of the Job, Free Rage Room', which is how you'd always referred to the demolition phase of house flipping. People on twitter of course took it out of context and rumors started flying that you and Lando had in fact called it splits, even one of those WAG update pages 'confirming' the breakup from close sources.

You'd found it laughable really, but you knew it would be hurting Lando, and no matter how much he hurt you ... you weren't a bitter person. You didn't want him hurting as well.

You were sat in your studio at your desk, sketching for the garden. The pen was currently in your mouth, sat back debating whether you should reach out to Lando or wait for him to come to you.

It had been three weeks at this point with no communication. You'd spoken to Lando's family, who had talked with you about everything that had happened. Cisca and Adam had apologized for their sons behavior.

As you were about to pick up your phone, caving in to messaging Lando first when you swore you wouldn't on knock on your wooden studio door sounds.

You frown, wondering who on earth would be coming to you at this time of the night. You weren't even open, office hours were long over. It was about 11pm, so your clients knew you weren't taking calls even though you were still here and working with a light on.

You open the door, bolt and latch on for added protection.

"Lando?" you ask seeing the curly haired boy, hoodie up and his eyes looking more tired than you'd ever seen them.

"You want to open up and let me in baby?" he asks softly, a slight crack to his voice.

"I was just about to call you" you admit, unlatching the door so it swings open fully. He stops just under the arch of the door observing you. It was like he was having a small inward debate with himself.

"Gonna cave coz you miss me?" he jokes, testing the waters. He didn't know how you were now that you'd have some time apart. He was hopeful that he could talk to you again and fix what had happened.

"Honestly yeah. I hate you and how much of a hold you have on me" you admit, leaning back into your chair directing him to the sofa.

"I came here, to say I'm sorry and that I was horrible to you. And I know it's not excuse but I want to explain what happened. In full... I think you deserve more than an explanation... but I think you need one for if we are ever going to go back to what we were" he sighs. He leans forward and takes your hand into his.

He explains how, after the race people told him you'd said you were leaving the race track. So he went to the hotel to find you, only for you not to be there, Max came round and said you were probably getting ready with the girls as P had told him you were all gonna meet them there.

"I didn't think this was too out of the ordinary for you, your especially close with P and Lily, and it wouldn't shock me if Kelly and Kika would drag you all into a girl pre-club party in their hotel room..." he laughs knowing that normally you and P would do each other's makeup when Max and her came to race weekends. Or you and Lily would switch outfit's loving to venture into each other's styles.

When he got to the club and no-one had seen you, and Pierre and Charles had come up to him with celebratory shots, he hadn't declined.

"The shots were the start of what slowly just went downhill, I don't think i ever want to drink that much again, I was so happy at the start" he laughs flushing red and the thought of him knocking back shots, which was rare considering he didn't like to drink. He wouldn't be doing it anytime soon that was for sure.

"You deserved to celebrate though baby, don't make it seem like you shouldn't have had a fun night" you admit, both of you were being open and mature adults right now. You were so glad you'd both spent some time apart to think before you fought more, now you were both talking and listening to each other and you couldn't help but think it was beautiful and intimate.

After the three hour mark he was fed up that you hadn't bothered to show up at such an important night for him. Talking to Charles and Pierre who were also drunk, weren't the best influences on suggesting places you could be. All of them being ones his drunk mind could picture vividly, his sober mind would have known his girl would never dream of doing that to him.

"Charles said some things and I know sober me would have known you wouldn't do that, but i was already angry thinking you'd just ditched me. I shouldn't have drunk as much and I know its no excuse... but" he starts and you nod.

"The main thing is you know how you would have acted. Yes you upset me, yes your hurt me because you said some horrible things to me..."

"Yeah, I've heard the video and It wasn't my intention to embarrass you the way I did, especially in front of our friends. I'm so so sorry!" he admits.

The other group, had tried to convince him that maybe you'd just got held up and thats where Oscar, Lily, Max and P had all messaged you.

"Baby, I'm so so sorry that i wasn't there for you after what happened!" he says tears in his eyes. This would forever be one of his biggest regrets in life, not being there for you when you needed him.

"How did you find out?" you gulp, not really wanting to think about what could have happened that night if it wasn't for the Mclaren Mechanics.

"Well, after having a scolding from Oscar, and Max, and Alex, and Zac... the mechanics also threatened to botch my pit stops. So i listened to what they did for you"

"Mmmm it was scary. All i wanted was you" you nod, rubbing a thumb across his hand.

"I'm so so sorry, I promised you that i'd protect you always. And I've failed!" he says with a little snivel and tears brimming his eyes.

"You've not failed, you just made a mistake, there's been some miscommunication and Charles and Pierre didn't help with their boyish meddling but ... we'll get there" you smile before pulling closer to him and nuzzling into his neck breathing in his sent.

"Do you think you'll ever forgive me?" he asks softly pulling you back so he can fully look at you.

"I already have, darling" you smile.

"What did i ever do to deserve you, I don't think i do" he smiles.

"Hmmmm, well I think the historians will argue one day its me who didn't deserve you" you sigh, brushing some of his hair back.

"I doubt that" he scoffs, knowing that when you first started dating, even with your lack of status people still thought you were too kind, too sweet and too innocent for someone as jokey and brash as Lando was seen to be.

"I've never had anyone treat me the way you do, I'm so so in love with you. And I don't ever want the feelings I have when i think of you and see you to stop. I feel like i can do anything when i have you by my side. Why do you think the first person i seeked out was you?" you offer, softly leaning in and placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.

You guys, talked more that night. About how you actually had fun helping the Mclaren boys pack up, regardless if you thought Lando had forgotten about you.

A week later and the media had picked up on the sighting the paps had got of both of you. Some fans had seen you both at a restaurant and make posts on it.

The comments bashed you either way, being between saying how silly you were for taking him back or the others saying they were upset you were back. It got to the point where you had to release a statement saying that you and Lando, are grown adults who can talk through the miscommunication and issues you'd experienced and were better for it now.

"I love you so much, and I'm never ever ever acting up like that again" he says as you help him do up his fire suit for the race you were currently at with him.

"I love you too, now go out and get another win for me baby so we can celebrate properly this time" you smile, kissing him before Jon comes forward asking for Lando's presence in the front of the garage.

A/N: I hope you guys think this did the first part justice as so many people requested a Part 2, so I'm really scared that this hasn't done it justice! If you want a rewrite with something better... something longer where its more of a series. Or where it goes the opposite way and it takes her longer to forgive him let me know. I just thought that Y/N and Lando in this one specifically would be the type to maturely talk about things!

Taglist:

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People requesting for just this part...

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[steepwysdom]

THIS IS MYSTICDRAGONI

COMMISSIONS OPEN. $5 A SKETCH, ANYTHING HELPS!! THIS IS TO HELP PAY MEDICAL BILLS!

Ko-fi - PayPal

August 9th I had my wisdom teeth removed $2,000

August 19th I moved 10 hours from home to a college program

August 25th my jaw hurt.

August 26th I’m in the ER for an infection, I was sick, my left cheek was swollen, cold chest and shaking violently. $30 in prescribed medication + $166.63 visit

August 27th I’m at an oral clinic who won’t help me but charged me $255 for a X-ray. Sent me back to ER for a CT scan.

August 28th my mom surprises me after work, she drove 10 hours down here without telling me, met up with me as I got off the bus and I just broke down crying. She took me to the ER this time and I got the CT scan they wanted, more antibiotics.. $2,500 charge.

August 29th we find a surgeon. My paycheck from last week’s work was $125.

August 30th I have a $1,200 surgery to have the infection removed.

So my total amount of money spent in less than a month is: $7,951 … not even including my moving fees/apartment but I paid that myself.

the reason I am telling you this is because my parents are tight on money and I have been spending a lot of it due to my medical bills, and unfortunately surgery today made me loose 14hrs worth of work.

I NEED YOUR HELP! I AM WILLING TO DRAW WHAT EVER YOU WOULD LIKE! NO RULES EXCEPT YOUR RESULTS LOOK LIKE THIS!

SHARING HELPS TOO! THANK YOU FOR ANYTHING & EVERYTHING!

SHADED OR UNSHADED, PRICE DOES NOT CHANGE. $5

Here’s proof of my medical emergency:

Before vs after

Bloodwork x2 + anesthesia & antibiotics

[least-carpet]

'replacing jc in someone's affection' I am crying! wwx doesn't do it once but twice! It's fascinating! Also, this makes me understand why some people, reading the novel, come to the conclusion that wwx doesn't care anymore about jc. Yeah, it's a valid interpretation!

Listen, I just rotated, and rotated, and rotated this scenario (—because, like, both child and adult Wei Wuxian are sincerely in need of support and affection, but I think receiving it as a child while it was withheld from someone he loved, what might have seemed like taking it away from someone who also needed it, also contributed to his boundary problems and self-sacrificial tendencies and eventual resentment—like he needs it but it hurts someone he loves deeply when he gets it but he still needs it, how can he reconcile these conflicting truths?? OK I will stop now—) and, uh, have a tiny little sketch of that zhanchengxian fic concept below, with which I will exorcise my sad past chengxian/past zhancheng/current wangxian thoughts.

It was going to be a perfect triple triple drabble but I needed 80 more words in the centre section to describe Jiang Cheng's tears. You know how it is.

Pursued by Lesser Ghosts

At first he was busy and grateful for it.

Then, Jin Ling settled, elders cowed, sect in order, Jiang Cheng was forced to returned to Lotus Pier. Empty, now.

His sect ran as it always did. He slept poorly. He dreamed often. He walked up and down the pier at night, pursued by lesser ghosts, echoes of people who were alive, just gone. His own life closed around him as tight as any noose, one long merciless sequence of work, sleep, work.

He had a minor qi deviation.

“Go back to dual cultivation,” said the doctor.

“That’s no longer possible,” he said.

The doctor looked up. When Jiang Cheng didn’t say anything else, she said, “Well. Come here for acupuncture once a week. Consider visiting Jin Ling.”

Relax, she didn’t bother to say.

Jiang Ping, his one surviving cousin, took tea with him, and said: “I know things have been stressful. Perhaps you would consider marriage now?”

“I didn’t think marriage was relaxing,” said Jiang Cheng, drily.

“It can be. After everything, well… it’s nice to have someone there.” Jiang Ping looked up, thinking. “Having someone there and working a lot. I don’t think it’s possible for Sect Leader to work harder, so you’ll have to try the other thing.”

Jiang Cheng let out a snort despite himself. Jiang Ping grinned at him.

He could get married, he supposed. What was there to prevent him?

He didn’t call for a matchmaker. He worked harder, kept himself so busy he could hardly think, but at night, laying in his bed, he ached with loneliness before sleep. And in sleep, he saw them, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian both, invariably walking away from him, hand in hand.

Sometimes he was silent; sometimes he called to them. It didn’t matter. They never turned around.

-

In Wei Wuxian’s dream, it was high summer, air as thick as syrup, and he was lying under the trees along the riverbank with his head in Jiang Cheng’s lap.

Above him, Jiang Cheng was eating tanghulu. Playfully, Wei Wuxian opened his mouth like a baby bird, and Jiang Cheng, rolling his eyes, took a piece of fruit and fed it to him, red and almost glowing. His index finger brushed against Wei Wuxian’s mouth.

Sometimes, he dreamed and he didn’t know whether it was just a dream or a fragment of a memory. He thought this might have happened—he faintly remembered begging Jiang Cheng to let him rest his head in his lap, across his narrow, muscled thighs.

Suddenly it was night, and Jiang Cheng was gone.

“Jiang Cheng?” called Wei Wuxian, and found his voice was a child’s voice, high-pitched and nervous. “Jiang Cheng?”

He rushed through Lotus Pier, now dark and empty, towards Jiang Cheng’s room. Then, in the way of dreams, Jiang Cheng was in front of him, a child again, too, face swollen with tears as he wept alone on the pier.

Wei Wuxian froze, panicked.

Someone picked him up; Uncle Jiang had appeared. But instead of saying anything, he turned and walked away. “Uncle Jiang,” Wei Wuxian whispered, but Jiang Fengmian didn’t respond.

All Wei Wuxian could do was look over Uncle Jiang’s shoulder at Jiang Cheng, at his crumpled, sobbing face. You don’t understand, he thought, suddenly, I love you but I need this, I need it, I need it.

That face changed again, blurred into Jiang Cheng's adult face, still weeping as he knelt on the pier. And then the strong arms around him weren’t Uncle Jiang’s but Lan Zhan’s, holding him tight in a bridal carry, taking him away as he squirmed to look back, to not look away from Jiang Cheng’s face, they had been so happy only a moment ago—

Wei Wuxian woke late, his face wet. Went to look for a handkerchief. Opened a drawer he hadn’t looked in before to find: two purple hair ribbons. An open jar of salve, carved with the insignia of a well-known Yunmeng herbalist. And a lavender handkerchief, embroidered with a little frog. Wei Wuxian traced it gently with his thumb.

-

The day was a little crisp, but bright and beautiful. Lan Wangji had risen at the appointed time, eaten breakfast serenely with the sect, and taught some advanced guqin lessons. Lan Sizhui was coming along beautifully, playing more delicate and precise every day, a delight to teach.

Everything was just as it should be in the Cloud Recesses, but Lan Wangji was still somehow uneasy.

He had gained everything he had dreamed of as a teenager, in one bewildering fell swoop. His life had been overturned, but for the better, the man he had wanted for so long delivered to him on a silver platter. He was unbelievably lucky.

Of course, he grieved what had happened to his brother. Lan Xichen deserved only good things. It was bitter to find out someone you had loved so deeply had deceived you—had failed you—had abandoned you.

But with the exception of that dark spot, the suffering and absence of his brother, his life was everything he had ever asked for, wasn’t it? A pristine life, on the surface.

If there was a dark shadow underneath, the ripple of something passing through a lake on a sunny day—something slipping out of an incautious hand, lost to the water—that too was life, wasn’t it?

He had never been so happy in his life. He had never before been so happy in his life, as he had once imagined it.

He averted his eyes from that shadow.

Until, one day, he returned home, and found Wei Ying, sitting at the room’s low table, holding a handkerchief in one hand. Remnants of a different life that had collected in his home. No—that he had kept. Gripped tightly.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, brightly, face stretched in a brittle smile. “What’s this?”

[thewomanwhoboughttheworld]

I reckon it is widely accepted that Crowley and Freddie Mercury were, at the very least, besties, sometimes lovers, sometimes had a fling or dated. But I have feelings and headcanons nobody asked for that I have to share.

They met while Freddie was still in college. Freddie saw Crowley, drew a quick sketch of him and got up and gave it to Crowley. "I promise I will draw you a better one, dear." He never did, but Crowley still keeps the drawing and miracled it to always look like just made.

Crowley never really liked Mary Austin. He didn't like her when she was Freddie's girlfriend and always found a way to inconvenience her. He still doesn't like her, especially after she put Freddie's belongings up for auction. He liked Jim Hutton, however.

Freddie kissed Crowley first. It was after a rehearsal of one of Freddie's early bands, Crowley was giving him his feedback. Freddie just leaned in and kissed him. He avoided the demon for the following two weeks as he was confused (he still hadn't realised he liked boys) and felt embarrassed.

Even though they were both adamant that there were no feelings involved, they both deeply cared for each other. Neither would admit it, saying they were only friends who (more than) occasionally hooked up, but they both knew there was more. However, Freddie fell a bit harder even though he knew Crowley wasn't in love with him. It did hurt a bit, but he was eventually fine with it.

Freddie actually knew about Crowley and Aziraphale being a demon and an angel. Crowley told him one night while they were both drunk and then Freddie remembered and asked him. Crowley tried to deny it, but Freddie insisted so much that in the end, he decided to tell him everything as he knew Freddie wouldn't tell anybody. And he never did, he treated this like his own secret.

The first time Freddie saw Crowley's eyes, Crowley thought he would be scared. But Freddie just said: "I know they're snake eyes, but they remind me of my cats. And what a lovely colour, darling. Yellow's my favourite, you know?".

Crowley ranted A LOT about Aziraphale to Freddie. He was always going on about how much he hated his being a goody-two-shoes, how infuriating his constant reminding him that he was actually a good person and how the fuck can 6000 years be too fast? Freddie just smiled because he knew. He could see how much Crowley loved that angel. It broke his own heart, because he knew he could never be loved that much, but never said a word.

Freddie did write a lot of songs about Crowley and Aziraphale. Obviously Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, but also Crazy Little Thing Called Love, Somebody to Love and many more. Spread Your Wings is specifically about Crowley and he knew. But what Freddie would never tell anyone, a secret that he brought to the tomb with him, is that he wrote Love of My Life and You Take my Breath Away for him. (told you that Freddie was in love, my poor baby suffered too much in his life).

Freddie taught Crowley how to play the piano.

Crowley auctioned for some of Freddie's belongings. He got some kimonos, some handwritten sheets and his piano. He couldn't let anyone else have it.

Crowley never really left Freddie's side. He was always that mysterious, dark and handsome man showing up especially when Freddie needed someone. People eventually accepted it as part of Freddie's charm as he was always so secretive about his personal life.

Freddie let himself be vulnerable only around Crowley. Just as Crowley took off his glasses with him, Freddie allowed himself to cry only those times in which they were alone. He cried in Crowley's arms so much when his illness was worsening, when he was scared of how much he would have suffered. One night it got so bad that Freddie was basically begging Crowley to end his suffering and Crowley had to perform a miracle so that he could sleep. Neither brought it up ever again.

When Freddie died, Crowley was there with him. He gave Freddie just enough life to allow him to say some words. "You promised me you wouldn't come," Freddie told him. "I'm a demon, I lied" replied Crowley with a broken voice. He then sat on the bed and stayed with him until the very last moment. Aziraphale was there too. He followed Crowley without telling him because he felt he needed him. Aziraphale took away Freddie's suffering so that he could go without pain.

That same night, Aziraphale tried to persuade Crowley to stay at his library because he thought Crowley needed a friend. Crowley refused, hopped on his Bentley and drove away. He parked in front of his apartment building and found a used packet of cigarettes and an old pair of sunglasses that belonged to Freddie in his car. As the radio passed Love of my life, he couldn't hold it anymore and burst into tears. He cried hard, really hard. He felt a familiar hand on his back but didn't look and didn't ask. Aziraphale never said anything either and didn't leave until Crowley stopped crying but before he could be seen. He remembered how much it hurt and didn't want Crowley to grieve alone.

Master post: here

[xcaptain-winterx]

i have no idea if you are accepting request but could you write where reader is in labor and her husband, steve rogers is out in a mission and kind of missed the birth of his new born daughter

I love this idea💙

26:44:49

summary: above

warnings: child birth, blood, fluff, angst, sad Steve, happy Steve, guest appearances

a/n: English is not my first language, meaning you will probably find a lot of misspelling etc.

Main Masterlist Steve Rogers Masterlist

Being married to an Avenger sounds like a dream and it indeed is one. There are a lot of good sides to it, like literally never having to worry about being robbed, while you’re on a walk with them. Sadly there are some things though, that are not that nice, like missions. Of course you like hearing on the news that your husband saved people or when he tells you that they took down another bad facility, but you don’t like that he has to leave. What if he gets hurt or doesn’t make it back. Your husband, the famous Captain America, isn’t really on hydras friend list.

Steve’s also scared when he’s not with you. What if something happens to you? The list of enemies is long and knowing that he’s not always there to protect you scares him.

Everything changed when you got pregnant. The day you found out was probably one of the best moments in your life, and seeing Steve's face light up when you told him made it even better. Steve knew from the moment you told him that he was going to be the best dad ever for your little bean. He almost passed out when you both found out that you were having a girl. A Girl. A little baby girl.

He would stay up at night, talking to your belly about how excited he is to meet her and tell her about everything that is going on.

“Yesterday we painted your nursery, bean. I drew some sketches that are now hanging there. I Hope you are going to like them.”

“Uncle Bucky came today and helped me build the crib, while your mom was with her friends shopping. Don’t tell her, but we were both completely lost on what we should do.”

“I think we need to talk about the food you want. I may be old enough to be your grandfather or even great grandfather, but I don’t think that pickles and peanut butter are a good combination.”

“I’m so excited to meet you, everyone is, especially your mom.”

“Can you promise me to make it easy for your mom when you arrive? She’s been carrying you for eight months now and even if she doesn’t want to admit it, I know she’s tired.”

Everything was going amazing, three more weeks and your baby girl was going to arrive, but sadly Nick Fury decided it was ok to send your husband on a mission. Steve was furious when Fury told him. He tried to explain that he can’t, that his wife is going to give birth soon, but Fury didn’t give in. It was a mission that involved saving people from an underground facility.

You overheard them talking on the phone and how Steve is needed for it. Obviously you hate the thought of Steve going on a mission, but you hate the thought of innocent people being held captive in a dark room even more. You also saw that Steve didn’t like the thought either.

After the call you told Steve that it’s ok if he goes. He told you that he’s not going on that mission and that you can’t convince him.

And he was right.

For thirteen hours.

Apparently being highly emotional during pregnancy can help in convincing your husband to join a mission.

The day he left for the mission was not easy for both of you. He tried to not wake you up but failed.

“You shouldn’t be up. Go back to bed, sweetheart”

“I wanted to be awake when you go”

A slight smile appears on Steve's face “I love you, you know” he says, pulling you closer to him, while making sure to not put too much pressure on the belly.

“I hope so or I’m going to give you the ring back” you say with a smirk, trying not to show how sad you are “I love you, too.”

He smirks at you “Hold up. First” he softly slaps your ass, making you gasp and him laugh.“Now” Steve goes, trying to stay serious “You know I love you more than anything else-“

“What about Bucky? What about him, Steve? He’s better up there too”

“Ok, ok, ok” he laughs “I love you, Bucky and our soon coming little baby girl more than anything else.” A smile crosses your face.

Steve gets on one knee, now directly at eye level with your belly. He places a hand on it “Make sure to watch Mommy, while I’m away. Ok, Bean?” You laugh when you feel the baby kick against the spot where Steve placed his hand, “I think we have a deal.”

“Don’t worry, we are going to be fine.”

He gives your belly a kiss before standing back up and giving you a long and passionate kiss “Yeah. I will finish the mission as soon as possible and then I will come back.”

Your husband gives you another kiss before walking out the door.

The sun just started to set, while you were getting another bowl of cookie dough ice cream. Humming some random song as you grab some raisins from the cupboard to put in the bowl. Just when you wanted to walk back into the living room something wet started to run down your thighs.

Looking down you see a puddle at your feet, and that’s when you realize.

“Please, no.” Just as the words come out of your mouth a contraction hits you. The bowl drops to the floor and shatters into a hundred little pieces “Ahhhh”. This can't be happening, it's too soon. Of course you were told that babies could arrive sooner, but the doctors assured you that it wouldn’t happen because the baby most likely has Steve's super soldier serum.

Another contraction hits, this time stronger than the last one. Steve’s not here, you can't have her yet. You know you should go to the hospital cause the contractions are already coming every seven minutes.

You waddle over to the counter to grab your keys. Is it safe to drive right now, probably not. Steve and you didn’t pack a back for the birth yet and there’s no way that you could pack one now. Stepping inside the car you think about calling Steve, you know though, that he wouldn’t pick up. You take a deep breath before finally starting the car.

The way to the hospital thankfully wasn’t that long and painful, you're happy that you both live that close to the hospital and that you inherited your dad's ability to handle a lot of pain. The nurses there immediately took you in and gave you a private room. Again, thank god for being married to an Avenger. They checked you to see how many centimeters you are dilated. Fucking six.

“Mrs. Rogers, should we call someone for you? Giving birth can be painful and we would advise you to have someone with you when it happens.” The nurse says, smiling at you.

No shit, giving birth could be painful. That’s completely new to you.

Your husband is on a mission, Bucky is with him, Nat is with him, Sam is with him. Clint is not in Brooklyn and neither is Sarah. Wanda is currently on her honeymoon with Vision, and Tony and Pepper are probably having an argument right now. There’s one person that you know of who’s currently in New York, but you never really talked that much.

You think for a few seconds before finally deciding that it's better to have at least someone with you right now. “Yes, please call someone.”

Fifteen minutes later you here someone come down the hallway, screaming at some nurse about how Mrs. Rogers requested her to be there when she gives birth to a fucking watermelon.

The door opens and they walk in, “You’re huge.”

You give a painful laugh, “Thanks, Yelena”. She looks at you before slowly stepping closer. She’s a black widow who fought against black widows and dozens of bad guys, but she has never been in such a situation.

The contractions are getting worse every second and the pain medication doesn't seem to work. Fuck Steve and his super soldier sperms.“Ok, I’m here, everything is ok” Yelena says, standing next to you grabbing your hand, “Just take a deep breath.” Squeezing your hand, you slowly calm down. Yelena tries not to show how much her hand hurts because of your squeezing, and how relieved she is that you let go. Trying to distract herself from the pain she asks “Why did you call for me? We’re not that close.”

You look at her and smile, “You’re Nat's sister, which means you’re part of the big family. We may haven’t seen each other that often but I still trust you”. You say, grabbing her hand softly. Yelena looks at you, not believing that you count her as a family member. Nat told her once that the Avengers are like a second family, but she always thought that she was lying. Maybe she was always thinking like that because she knew that the avengers wouldn’t accept her.

Yelena looks at you with tears in her eyes. “Really?” She doesn’t even try to hide her shaking voice.

“Of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have called you.” Yelena quickly wipes a tear away and gives you a big smile

The nurse walks in. “Let’s check how many centimeters you are,” she looks and smiles at you. “Your ten centimeters! I’m going to inform the other nurse and then you can start pushing.”

Oh no, no, no, no, no

Yelena sees the worry in your eyes and quickly grabs your hand. “Hey, I’m here. Everything is going to be ok. I will call them immediately when the mission is over,” she squeezes your hand “now let’s focus on that Watermelon”. You give her a nod before the nurse tells you to start pushing.

It was a hard mission and Steve is happy that he’s finally back, he can't wait to come to you and the little bean. All he wants now is to cuddle you and touch your stomach, while watching one of your favorite comedy shows that you already watched hundreds of times. He definitely has to take a shower first, though, when he gets home because he smells like sweat and dirt. He walks out the jet with Bucky by his side who’s smirking at him. “What’s so funny now, jerk?” he asks, hiding a smile.

“Well, punk, I think it's funny how I can immediately tell what you're thinking about. So, did you already call Mrs. or are you surprising her with coming home early?”, Bucky says, patting his back.

Steve chuckles, walking with him over to his car, “She doesn’t know, I’m going to surprise her”. Bucky can't help but smile at that, he’s happy that his best friend found the ‘one’ after all those years, a true angel. And now that angel is pregnant with his niece, to be honest Steve didn’t tell him that he’s going to be uncle, but that doesn’t matter because the little girl is going to be his niece no matter what. Bucky knows when the due date is and already made sure to be ready when he gets the call from Steve, that his niece is coming. Bucky snaps out of his thoughts when Natasha walks over to them.

Steve slams the trunk close when he sees her, “if Fury wants me for another mission tell hi-“

“Steve”, she cuts him off. “It's about y/n, she gave birth”, a sad expression forms on her face “Yelena just informed me, she stayed with her meanwhile.”

Steve's whole face falls and he lets out shaky breaths, without saying anything he opens the car door and speeds off. Leaving an utterly shocked Bucky and a confused Sam, who apparently just walked out off the jet. Steve's mom always told him to be careful and he always listened to that, but right now he’s driving like a mad man to the hospital.

Not five minutes later he’s there and running to the reception, “I’m here for Y/n Rogers!” The nurse looks at him and lets out a gasp when she realizes who he is.

“S-Sure, right away, Mr. Rogers." She leads him to the door and gives him a reassuring smile before walking away. He takes a deep breath, and another, and another, and another before finally walking in. You look up when the door opens and smile when you see the now dad Steve walking in. Steve's eyes move from you to the small bundle in the crib. This is all it takes for him to start crying and you follow.

You reach your hand out to him and he immediately walks over to you, sits down on the bed, kisses your hands and pulls you closer. “I’m so sorry I’m late”, he says, looking at you. “How late?”

You softly touch his cheek “It’s ok. Our bean just decided to come early, we can't blame her, she’s just a baby” Steve laughs. He turns to the crib and slowly rises from the bed and walks over to the crib. A tear runs down his cheek when he sees her little face, a cute small nose, chubby cheeks and a full head of blonde hair. Steve carefully picks her up and holds her in his arms, swaying back and forth, you smile at the sight of them together.

“Hey, bean, daddy’s finally here. Sorry, that I took that long, daddy was saving the world.” He looks at the information paper on the side of the crib before turning to you, “I’m 26:44:49 hours too late.” He sits back down next to you, one arm around you, the other around his daughter.

“I swear if you are going to blame yourself again I will hit you,” you say with a stern expression.

Finally Steve laughs, “Sweetheart, I’m holding our daughter”. At that exact moment the sleeping girl opens her eyes and looks at her dad with big y/e/c eyes. He looks down at her “Hey, princess. Do you know who I am?”. What if she doesn’t know him, he wasn’t there during her birth. What if she never heard him when he was talking to her late at night. She wiggles around in his arms. Steve holds his breath, is she going to cry?

She doesn’t cry though, she looks at her dad and gives him a smile, well, as far as a newborn can smile.

You kiss his shoulder, “I think she knows who you are.”

Steve kisses her forehead and after that yours, “I love you, you know.”

“Likewise. We still need a name,” you say.

Steve gives you a grin. “Yeah, we should decide that before the rest of her family comes”

Yelena walks in with a bunch of snacks, “hey отец, finally there. Next time you hold her hand” she says, showing her hand in a cast, “I also brought a few guests.”

Nat, Sam and Bucky walk in with a few gifts. Bucky immediately leaves the gifts on a table and rushes towards the baby. “Hey doll, it’s me, your uncle Bucky.” Steve hands her to Bucky and he holds her close to his chest, “Is your dad already annoying you? He has been annoying me for about 105 years now,” Steve lets out a small hey, but Bucky doesn’t care. He looks at you for a second, “You did a great job mama.”

“Thanks Buck, but I couldn’t have done it without Yelena,” Natasha nudges her sister, smiling at her, she knew Yelena would get warm with at least someone else.

The baby gets passed around and in the end gets passed to Bucky again because he wouldn’t stop whining. “Now, what’s her name? Let me guess, Samantha,” Sam asks, smirking.

You both look at each other before looking back at them. “Welcome, Sarah Brook Yelena Rogers, named after her grandmother, Steve's home and the person who stayed by me during her birth.” Yelena looks at you both with tears in her eyes, giving you a big smile, now being ok with you breaking her hand. Bucky walks over to you and gives Sarah back to you, whispering before that how she’s going to be his new favorite.

He looks at them “I'm the uncle, right? Don’t leave me hanging, Steven.”

“Yes, you are.”

“HA, SEE SAM, I'M THE UNCLE!”

[starzioo]

𝐁.𝐙 ❦ 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒?

This is pt.1 of my 4pt series. The next part will be posted a few mins after this!! I need need to quickly edit some things! This is a pretty long one and it took me AGES. Sorry if the plot carries on for too long, I rlly tried here. :,)

No warnings just fluff!

==========

You're a 6th year Ravenclaw dating Draco Malfoy. You aren't the stereotypical Ravenclaw, although you are academically smart, you were extremely street smart. You and Blaise have been friends since your 2nd year at Hogwarts. You two are close, but you grew apart after you started dating Draco.

THIRD PERSON:

Blaise, Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle are all sitting in the Slytherin common room. "Pansy is so fine...I think i'm gonna try to get with her..." Draco says as he sits on the couch. "Don't you have a girlfriend?" Goyle says laughing. Blaise sits on the chair across from Draco, glaring. "I mean...who said I can't have two girlfriends?" Draco says smugly. "I don't know man, that seems kinda wrong, and plus aren't Y/n and Pansy friends?" Crabbe says eating a muffin. "Well, I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart...and if she can't figure out what i'm doing then maybe that's just a personal problem for Y/n." Draco says shrugging. "You know that she will find out eventually? I've known her since 2nd year trust me...when she finds out, you'll be sorry." Blaise says with a dead tone to his voice. "Well..I'm gonna go to sleep see you guys tomorrow..." Blaise says as he walks to his dorm. "What's his problem?" Draco asks scoffing. "Well they have been friends for a while now, I mean i wouldn't be surprised if he told Y/n..." Goyle says shrugging. "Let's just hope he knows better." Draco says dead tones.

TIME SKIP : 2 WEEKS LATER IN YOUR DORM

You and Cho share a dorm.

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

"Cho...I got a question." You say as you roll to lay on your stomach. "Hm?" she says looking up from her sketch pad. "Do you think Draco actually likes me? I mean...like I know we've been dating for 7 months now but these last couple of weeks it's been different. I mean he doesn't even sit by me in charms anymore." You say resting your head on your hand. "Well...I know for sure when you guys first started dating that he liked you. I mean you two were inseparable...he was even trying to find a way into our common room." she laughs "but I just feel like he'a losing feelings..." you say flipping through pictures of you and Draco. "I don't wanna hurt your feelings Y/n..." Cho says turning around in her desk chair. "It's okay...I kinda already know your answer anyways." You say lightly smiling. "He's a player...he's known for liking a girl for a couple months then getting bored of them. I wouldn't be surprised if he's already found another girl. He just isn't a good person or boyfriend. I don't see what you see in him. You're such a sweet girl and if I was you I would be with someone whose not as vile and repulsive as him....but that's just me." Cho says closing her sketchbook. "I'm gonna go to sleep now and just let you think about what I said." she says getting tucked into her blue silk comforter. "Ok...thank you for everything Cho...goodnight." you says giving her a warm smile. "Goodnight Y/n, sleep well..." Cho says as she turns over.

You couldn't go to sleep that night. Cho's words stuck in your head. All night all you could think about was the fact that the boy you loved could be cheating on you. Everything you done for the past 7 months had been for Draco. All of it, your entire life, was Draco. You changed so many things about yourself just to fit his needs. You quite quidditch so you could go to his games. You spent your spring break with Draco in France, instead of visiting your mom in Spain. You even cut off Blaise...your best friend since 2nd year. A man that understood your emotions and thoughts. The only person who knows why you love astronomy, the only person who knows why you cover your face when you laugh, the only person who really knows why you love hugs so much. Blaise was the only person you had told such personal things to. Stuff about you that's so sentimental you didn't even tell Draco. You had never realized how much of your life was revolved around his happiness. You were giving your all into a boy that was giving you nothing in return.

THE NEXT DAY

===================

"Y/n! Y/n! Wake up! Its 8:45! You're gonna be late for charms class!" Cho says shaking you awake. "OH SHIT!" you say springing up from your bed. "Thank you so much for waking me up Cho!" You say as you frantically run to your vanity. Then you look down at your wrist watch.

𝟞:𝟛𝟘♥AM

"Ha.Ha. Very funny Cho." You say turning around in your chair sarcastically clapping your hands. "Did you really think I wouldn't wake you on time?" She says lightly laughing. "Thank youu, you know that I appreciate it." you say as you start taking your hair out of its curlers. "Perfecto~" you say when you see the first curl in your hair. "Cho you know what that means...perfect hair day equals a perfect day over all!" "Yeah yeah well last time I heard that phrase you fell in a puddle" Cho says giggling. "Yeah, but after I fell in that puddle I cast a perfect Patronus charm." You remarked as you continued getting ready for the day by doing you're skin care and makeup. Then putting on your gold earrings and necklace. "Hey Y/n, I think we should head out now if we wanna make it to breakfast in time to eat?" Cho questioned. "Yeah, ok, just give me a second I gotta get my charm bracelet on." As you are putting on your bracelet you remember that Blaise was the one who bought you it, in your 4th year.

FLASH BACK

=============

That day Blaise had asked you if you wanted to go to Diagon alley with him to go shopping. You and him had wandered around the alley going into every shop looking at brooms, sweaters, shoes, but most importantly you both went into a jewelry boutique. You and Blaise looked around until you came across a gold charm bracelet that had a dark blue diamond butterfly charm. "Ouuu, Blaise look at this bracelet!" you said as he wandered back over to you. You looked at the bracelet in awe;while as Blaise looked at you in awe of your beauty. "Uhm excuse me? How much is this charm bracelet?" You asked the worker who stood behind the counter. "I don't think you kids would be interested in that one...It's 80 galleons." The worker says looking at you two with pity. "Hey Blaise I think we should get back to Hogwarts...it's getting late anyways." you said bummed out. "Yeah...you can head back without me there's a couple of things I still have to take care of down here." Blaise said softly. "Okayyy, be safe though on your way back okay?" You said as you walked out of the store. When you were about to walk back into the common room you heard Blaise yell "Y/N! Wait!" You turn around to see Blaise running up to you. "Shhhh! You're gonna get us in trouble!" you whisper yell at him. "Okay okay! But I got you something..." He says as he pulls the gold charm bracelet out of his back pocket. You gasp "BLAISE! REALLY?! AHHH YOU DIDNTT" "Shhhhh!" he says covering your mouth with his hand. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" you exclaim ingulfing him in a hug. "You're welcome, now go to sleep. You should've already been in bed." Blaise said smiling. You went to sleep that night thinking that Blaise bought the bracelet. Blaise went to sleep that night knowing he stole it. But it just so happens that, that day was a good hair day.

END OF FLASH BACK

=================

"Y/n!" Cho says waving her hand in front of your face. You finally snap out of your thoughts. "Geez you zoned out for like 30 seconds!" Cho says mildly worried. "Heheh, sorry I didn't realize" you say finishing putting on your bracelet.

TIME SKIP TO CHARMS CLASS

============

As you walk into charms class, you sit in your regular seat. You see Draco walk in, he looks at you, then walks to sit on the other side of the classroom. Although there was no actual assigned seats in Charms Class Draco had sat by you in every class you've had up until now. Instead of sitting by his girlfriend he decides to sit by Pansy? You were on your final straw with the way Draco had been treating you. All you can feel is your throat starting to burn. All you could do was stare at him conversating with Pansy. You wanted to get up and slap him across the face but for some reason your body stayed in the same place; you couldn't bring yourself to do it. As you continue to get lost in your thoughts, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A familiar aroma surrounds you - the smell of red wine, a almost musky scent - "Are you okay?" a low voice asks you. You look up to see Blaise. You take a moment to fully realize it's him. "Yeah...sorry I guess I just zoned out for a second.." you say slightly embarrassed. "I noticed" he says lightly laughing; he sits down next to you. You and Blaise sit in a comfortable silence and Professor Flitwick teaches the class how to cast a Auguamenti charm; the spell to make water. Everyone was working in partners. While Blaise was working on casting the charm, you couldn't help but stare at Draco trying to flirt with Pansy. "Y/n, it's your turn to try casting the charm." Blaise says monotonously; he takes the bowl and places it in-front of you. With a flick of your hand you cast the charm nearly perfect. "Wow! Miss. Y/L/N , perfect! Nothing less than what I would expect from my star student!" Professor Flitwick says happily. "You and your partner may have the rest of class off!" He says making a arm jester to the door. As you're heading out of the classroom you feel Draco's eyes staring at you. "Hey... wanna go chill in the court yard or something?" Blaise says nodding his head in the direction of the court yard. "Mmmm, Sure..." you say smiling lightly. When you and Blaise sit down on one of the stone benches he turns to you like he has something to say, "Can I talk to you about something real quick?" Blaise says with a unsure look in his eyes. "Mhm, of course" you say curiously. "I feel like we've uhm grown apart I guess...we used to be best friends but now I feel like we don't even talk to each other, you know? I don't know...we've just been friends for so long and I uhm.... i just don't wanna lose you...I guess what i'm trying to say is that I miss you, I miss talking to you, I miss sneaking around the castle late at night, I miss going to Hogsmeade with you, I just miss everything about our friendship." Blaise says avoiding eye contact with you. "Blaise i'm so sorry" you say feeling a tight burning sensation in the bottom of your throat, you feel the tears building up in your eyes. It was rare for Blaise to open up like that; he has a habit of keeping his feelings tucked away. You hug Blaise, your arms around his neck; with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. He hugs you back. "I'm so sorry Blaise...Draco said he didn't feel comfortable with me being around you so much...I should've never let it go this far..." You say with tears rolling down your face. "It's okay. I figured it was something along those lines." He says un wrapping his arms from you. He wipes a tear off your cheek with his thumb. You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. "Hey Y/N there's one more thing I need to tell you." Blaise says. "Hm?" You say keeping your head on his shoulder. He pauses. "Draco...he's cheating on you...or atleast he's trying to. About two weeks ago he was saying some dumb shit about how he's gonna go after Pansy." He says dead toned. "I know..."

=========

I reached the max character limit oml. T.T

[resident-gay-bitch]

🦇 Stranger Saturdays 🦇

Will x Mike (Byler) cute getting together (3k words)

“Hey, what are you drawing?” Mike asked, almost falling out of the chair he was swinging on to get a good look at the page Will was entirely focused on. 

“None of your business, nosey.” Will scoffed, turning his page even further from Mike's view. But he glanced up, rolling his eyes and shaking his head with a soft look on his face, considering Mike for just a moment before turning back to his drawing. 

Mike felt himself blush at the fleeting attention. Mike always feels a little flustered with Will's attention, and it was only recently that he became aware as to why. 

It took El dumping him, which was not the best feeling. Getting dumped, whether one actually has feelings for their girlfriend or not, will always be a punch to the gut… and the ego. 

It was when Mike was complaining to Lucas about it later that things started clicking into place. 

You don’t love me, She said, You spend more time looking at your best friend than you do at me. 

Why don’t you call me as much as you call Will? 

When we were both hurt, you went to Will first! 

It took Lucas actually slapping him around the head to get it. To get why. 

And it’s infuriating; knowing that you’re in love with your best friend, that is. Mike was very happy being completely ignorant to the fact, thank you very much. At least then he could be a little bit soppy without feeling like he’s gonna be crowned town pariah. 

Besides, it’s agonising, wondering if his feelings could possibly be reciprocated. But he doubts the fact. The chances of Will being queer in this small town too are already slim, and the chance of him loving Mike, out of everyone else? Well, that's even slimmer. 

Lucas is a far better option. 

Hell, even Dustin! 

Even Steve, and that’s really saying something, because Steve is annoying as all hell and a total loser. 

But sometimes… sometimes it feels like… Sometimes Mike gets his hopes up, and it’s like a little spark in his chest that's fighting to not blow out. He never wants that spark to die. 

He blows a raspberry at Will and brings his chair back down to four feet, playing off his stumble very cool-ly so the teacher doesn’t take his chair away from him again. He gets told about some made up kid that swung on his chair, cracked his head open and died, at least once a week these days. 

“You don’t have to see everything I draw.” Will comments after a while, sensing Mike's blatant disappointment with the fact. 

He loves how easily Will can read him. 

Though, he’s sure his dramatic sighs and groans are obvious enough for anyone to read at this current moment. But in a more general sense, even when Mike is adamant on keeping his emotions on lock. Wills just… he’s got this way about him; an internal compass that points directly at Mike's moody feelings and gives him step by step instructions on how to cheer him up. 

“But I like everything you draw.” Mike sighs, leans a hand on his chin as he melts onto the desk, neglecting his work completely. 

“Well, you can like everything else. This is just for me.” Will says, attention completely on the page again and Mike has never been jealous of paper, but suddenly, he is. 

“I can never see it?” Mike pouts, “Not even when it’s done?”

“Nope.” Will shakes his head, keeps sketching. 

“Why not?” Mike asks, nosey, nosey, always nosey when it comes to Will Byers. 

“Because…” Will sighs, stops for a moment to glance up at Mike before his attention is gone again, “It’s embarrassing. It’s… it’s stupid, okay, it’s just for my own practice and enjoyment. It’s not even good.” 

“I’m sure it’s great–”

“Whatever.” Will rolls his eyes and smiles, “I’m too embarrassed to show you, so leave it alone. Maybe when were thirty.”

“You better keep it ‘till we’re thirty then.” Mike huffed, laying his upper body flat on the desk now in a dramatic display of boredom, “Can’t believe you won’t show me. I thought we were best friends, I saw your butt once, nothings embarrassing–”

“You didn’t mean to see my butt!” Will laughed, “Stop using that as an argument for everything.” 

“Sorry.” Mike groaned, poking his tongue out, “I just want to see your art.”

“I’ll draw something else to show you later.” 

Mike blew another raspberry, and Will completely ignored him. This feels similar to torture, for Mike. He’s not sure what to do with himself, when Will ignores him. No matter how many fart noises he makes, how many bad jokes he cracks, no matter how much he wails and wiggles around, Will just ignores him. Barely even laughs!

And Mike feels utterly betrayed by this, and maybe a little heartbroken. He lives for Will's attention, and more importantly his happiness, and most importantly his affection. And in this current moment, Will is refusing Mike all of those pleasures. 

And he’s too embarrassed to show Mike his drawing. Which is insane, because it’s probably something cool like a freaky weird dragon, or The Party going to battle or something. 

Or maybe it’s something creepy and haunted. Will does that sometimes, draws his nightmares, the pictures getting more and more graphic as he ages. And he tends to not show Mike those, so Mike doesn’t have to worry about them. But Mike always finds out, and he worries anyway, because he just wants the best for Will. Wants to make everything better, or as good as he can. 

He only hopes to bring Will half as much comfort as Will brings him. 

“William.” The teacher calls, peering down her glasses and waving him over with a finger, “I have a question about your essay.”

Will glances over at Mike and pulls a sour face before hopping up. Mike gives him a sympathetic smile, hopes Will doesn’t get detention or anything. Though, it would be funny since he’s the only one out of the Party who hasn’t gotten a detention yet. Somehow. 

Mike watches them, as Will pulls up a chair with a little annoyance. And Mike feels that annoyance even more, because that means Will is going to be up there, and away from Mike for a while. And Mike already misses him. 

Boredom gets even worse, and Mikes got this bad feeling stirring in his gut. He’s desperate to know what Will's drawing. What he’s so embarrassed about. And he knows it’s bad, knows it’s a boundary to peek, but Will has never kept a drawing from Mike before. Not really. 

Sure he’s chosen not to show things to Mike, but if asked, he’ll share. He’s never denied Mike the ability to awe over his best friend's work. 

So, when he’s not looking, Mike leans over in his chair until there's only one leg of it on the ground. 

He’s wobbling, one hand on the corner of Wills desk to attempt to help support him, his tongue strategically poked out of his mouth, and he’s glancing over at them every couple of seconds to make sure he’s not going to get caught. 

And with his middle finger, he’s able to carefully lift the corner of the closed page to catch a tiny peak. 

But he can’t quite make it out, so he dares a glance to the front, and lifts the closed page higher. 

He furrows his brow, because he’s sure he’s seeing things– Or, he’s not quite sure what he’s seeing at all. 

He stretches his arm as far as he can to open the page almost ninety-degrees, and staring up at him, coloured fully in vibrant pencil, is a portrait. 

A portrait of Mike. 

And it’s… wow, it’s amazing. 

Mike has never thought he was all that good looking, but this drawing really does him a good justice. And his hair looks fucking great. 

The portraits got every one of his freckles, his dimples, the smiling wrinkles of his eyes. Behind him is golden and warm, cast in beams of light that set him centre stage, making him look almost godly. Makes it seem like he’s actually something worth looking at. 

And when his eyes fix on the little hearts floating around his head, and the scribble of “Mr. Will Wheeler” down the bottom, Mike falls out of his chair. 

He splats down on the ground with a clatter, his chair somehow bouncing off the ground and landing on his back, ow. 

“Mike Wheeler! How many times have I told you not to swing in your chair?” The teacher bellows for probably the millionth time. 

Mike just groans in response, this is humiliating. He’s never fallen out of his chair before. And to do so in front of his whole class? Humiliating. 

He can hear Max somewhere in the classroom laughing her ass off. Total trator. 

“Detention. Now!” 

Mike rolled his eyes and got himself to his feet, collected his things and headed towards the front of the class. Not without a sparse glance at the sketchbook again, now closed, thankfully. But Mike knows what’s nestled within. 

As he walks to the teacher, to collect his detention slip, Will shakes his head laughing. He seems relaxed, which means he didn’t see Mike peaking, which is good for now, since they can’t talk about it. 

Shit. 

They have to talk about it. 

In haste, Mike collects his detention slip and races out of the room. He obviously doesn’t go to detention, instead he ditches school and skates around town because he’s freaking out and this is the only way he can think to pass the time and calm down. His moms probably gonna kill him, but whatever.  

Mr. Will Wheeler. 

Mike's heart is in his throat and his hands are trembling and he’s sweating and riddled with nerves. He doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. 

Mr. Will Wheeler. 

This is… everything. 

He’s spent so long skating around and rambling in his own head about what to do, he didn’t realise school had gotten out. He only realised when the sun began to tint the sky orange and warm, casting Hawkins in a golden glow that made something once drabby into something worth looking at, just for a moment. And Mike thinks about the portrait. 

And he thinks about it. 

And he thinks about it. All the way to the Byers house. All the way to Will's bedroom window, which he climbs through without knocking. 

“What are you doing?” Will asks, a hand to his chest from the spook Mike caused. He almost dropped his cup of soda, sitting it down on his desk, flicking his sketchbook closed before Mike's eyes could pry, he thinks, “Where'd you go after English? Are you okay, you seem off?” 

Mike shook his head, sets his skateboard down under the window, drops his backpack, “I saw your drawing.”

Will's face turned ghostly white, “What?” 

“I looked.” Mike said plainly, almost lost of breath completely. Who knew talking to the guy he loved, knowing he felt somewhat the same, would be so breathtaking, “I’m sorry, but I looked. I saw what you drew… what you wrote.” 

“Fuck– Mike, I’m– I–” Will began to stutter, slowly trying to back away before he collided hip to his desk, “I’m so sorry, please don’t–”

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Mike said, very still in place, “That okay?”

“That– What?” Will asked, cherry red now, clearly as terrified as Mike was. 

“I’m gonna kiss you.” Mike said again, nodding to help convince himself to actually do it. To kiss him. To kiss Will. 

“You’re…”

Mike nodded one more time before charging forward, grabbing Will by the face, and kissing him. 

Will definitely didn’t pull away. 

In fact, he grabbed Mike back, pulling him closer and closer. And this… this is that fairytale shit in all of Holly's story books. This has got to be true love, or something. 

It’s gotta be. 

“Honey, I’ve got– Oh!” 

The both of them split apart all too fast as the door swung wide open, Joyce standing in it, staring at them both. Mike is about to freak out. 

“I’ve been waiting for this to happen– keep the door open, please. Are you staying for dinner, honey? We're having meatloaf.” 

Neither of the boys answered for a long while. Clearly just as confused as the other. It took Joyce shaking her head at them, confused, to jolt Mike into action. 

“What?” He asked, stuttering it out. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” 

“Uh… S-sure.” Mike said, because he’s not very good at saying no to Joyce these days. 

“Okay, can you two set the table for me then?” 

Mike and Will were still stuck standing in place, each a little worried to move. Mikes a little worried that the moment he does move, Will will take all of that back. 

“Hello?” Joyce said, now standing with her hands on her hips, “What is with you two today– is it because I walked in on you kissing, because I’ve seen worse, you don’t wanna know the things I’ve walked in on Jon doing–”

“Ew, mom.” Will scoffed. 

Joyce laughed, walking over into the room to tidy up Will's bed, “Don’t worry about me. Anyway, dinner will be ready in ten, so come out quickly.” 

“Okay, mom, can you please…”

“You’re okay with it?” Mike asked, terribly pale in the face. 

Joyce froze, turning her head to look at him for a moment, considering the pair. With a sigh she wandered over, her soft hand on his cheek, and she has to look up at him now– at both of them. She keeps going on about how they have to stop growing so fast. 

“Honey, all I want for my boys is happiness.” She smiled, leant up to press a little kiss to his cheek, “I’ve known about this for a long time, longer than you, I’m guessing. I’m surprised Will didn’t tell you that we’re okay with this around here. And don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom anything you don’t want me to.” She said with a wink, turning and leaving the room. 

“Ten minutes.” She called, as if she hadn’t just said the most meaningful thing she’s ever said to Mike, “Jon, El! Dinner’s almost ready, come help your brother and his boyfriend set the table.” 

Mikes heart is in his throat. 

“Boyfriend?” Came three consecutive shouts throughout the house. 

Beside him, Will groaned, shuffled over to his bed where he flopped down face first into it, “This is mortifying.” 

“Mortifying?” Mike scoffed, “Your mom just told your whole family we were in a relationship before we even agreed on a relationship!”

Will turned his head, peaking one eye up at Mike, “But… we’re… we’re in a relationship?”

Mike could feel his cheeks burning up, and he’s sure he looks stupid, blushing this much. But it can’t really be helped after kissing the boy he loves, and with the prospect of more. 

Mike nodded his head, and Will turned back into his bedsheets. The two of them stayed like that for a moment, equally as nervous, equally as awkward. They were only torn out of the best new seconds of the rest of Mike's life when they heard Hopper shout out from the kitchen. 

“Not Mike again!”

On the bed, Will broke out in hysterics. 

“He hates me.” Mike muttered. 

Rolling onto his back, Will smiled, reaching a hand out for Mike. And when he took it, his hand felt like it was burning, sparks flying everywhere. Will's hand is so soft and warm, and Mike doesn’t want to ever let go. He lets himself be dragged over towards the bed. 

“Yes, he does.” Will says through laughter, “But he's just gonna have to put up with that.” 

Before Mike could get another word in, Will yanked him down onto the bed, Mike toppling over on top of him. And they were kissing again. 

And Mike never wants to leave this moment. He’s sure this is the best thing he’s ever done, other than asking Will to be his friend that day on the swing sets. 

He can’t wait for the rest of their lives. 

ive never written byler before so this was fun yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i think they're so sweet and i cant wait for them to become cannon in season 5 :)

ive been rooting for them sincei was 14 and watching season 1 when it first came out and thinking oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck they remind me of myself and my best friend oh fuck does this make me gay too?

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝕴'𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖆𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖐𝖘

Billy burn x gender neutral reader

There has been lately a Billy fever on tumblr and I’ll take the opportunity to post this little though that came to my mind a week ago ｡^‿^｡ Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my Derek danforth fic, I really appreciate it.

Summary: Billy has taken his revenge on Melinda and escaped safely the gas station before it could explode, but he wasn’t expecting the police to be there shortly after the explosion. Now behind the bars of a police station all he can do is hope for your help.

You can also read this on wattpad or ao3

Warnings: gender neutral reader (let me know if I missed something). English is not my first language so apologies for bad grammar. Reader and Billy are engaged. Make out. Angst with happy ending. Pretending to argue. Badass reader

Words count: 1621 words

The room of the police station was cold and neon-lit. With your eyes swollen from crying, you sat in front of the policeman. His heart sank as he tried to find the right words.

“You were the only person he said he wanted to be here. He has been arrested for attempted robbery at a gas station. What’s your relationship with the criminal?”

“He's my husband. They arrested him for attempted robbery? I can't believe it.”

“Calm down, please. This is the first time that he has been arrested?”

“No” you sobbed with a tissue covering your mouth. “He promised me that it would have been the last time he would do something illegal”

The deputy took notes, his face serious.

“What exactly happened? How was he involved? Did he hurt someone?”

“We are still investigating the matter, your husband still hasn’t talked to me and all we have is just a gas station completely on fire and two carbonized corpses. We will do everything we can to find out the truth.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that kept spilling from your eyes.

The deputy passed a hand over his shapid beard. He had seen so many similar stories, young lives destroyed by drugs and crime. But you looked different. Your eyes were full of innocence and hope, and his pale face was marked with sadness.

“I understand it’s hard to accept,” He said. ���But we have to do our job. Billy will be tried and will have a chance to defend himself. In the meantime, we will try to find out if there are other people involved.”

You stood up, your legs wobbly. “Can I see him? Can I talk to him?”

The deputy nodded. “Yes, of course. He is in the detention cell. Don’t stand too close to the bars.” Was all he said before going back to his computer.

Deputy Colone is hunched over his desk, doing what he hates most, filling out reports. All his colleagues out while he was forced to stay here to fill out paperwork. He glances up at Billy, then over at you. Satisfied, he returns to his shitwork.

Seated across the room, you appears to be idly sketching something on a large pad present on the desk.

Billy sits on his jail’s cot, head in hands, hopeless.

He waves for your attention.

You looks up at the deputy, still writing on the desk, then over at Billy.

“You’re not gonna pay the bail?” He whispered with a hint of impatience, his right leg bouncing up and down as he kept stealing glances at the deputy.

“So you can do another impulsive act and get caught again?”

The little control he has over his anger is already running out.

Billy gets up off his cot, pacing back and forth inside the small cage stressed over your behavior. He eyes the deputy, then you. You flips a page over, and starts to really write.

“What are ya drawin’?”

The deputy looks up, irritated by the noise and by how he kept treating you.

Billy grabs the cell bars and lean against them.

“Hey, pipe down, cowboy”

“I was just curious about what they were drawing”

You holds it up for Billy to see.

“There. Happy now?”

You throws the sketch pad at him, crossing your arms while looking down at the floor. It bounces off the bars.

He reaches down, grabs it, and pulls it into his cell.

You stands up defiantly as he read everything. Wrath more and more visible all over his face.

“Okay, give it back to me” you extended your hand impatiently.

“Why you wanna sell your engagement ring?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Simple, I can’t stand you anymore! This is the umpteenth time you do things behind my back and make trouble. This time it was for an attempted robbery. And you know what? I’m so done with your bullshit”

“So you just wanna leave everything behind you? Sell the wedding ring?”

“Why do you even give that much importance to it? Billy, it’s just a piece of metal with a diamond that you stole! I don’t want to be associated with all of this anymore!”

He squeezed his fists, trying not to completely explode with anger, refusing to speak with you.

You stood up from your seat and approached him, taking the shining and beautiful ring he choose only for you. “And what does it represent now? A man who can’t keep himself out of trouble? I don’t want to be tied to you this way anymore. When there’s always a chance that I could find you dead because you messed with the wrong people in search of money. I want to sell that faith and use the money to start over”

“Okay fine. Do as you fucking wish” he took the piece of metal around his own finger. “Come and get it, so I won’t see your face ever again.” His raised a fist and crashed it agaist the bar. “But remember that it’s not just a piece of metal. It’s a fucking symbol of what we were and what we could be, but you’re too much of a fucking idiot to realize that” It’s a cry of anger the one he unleashed, lacerating and wild, hovering in the air, like a swooping hawk.

The deputy is really getting pissed at the constant shouting.

“Bastard, if you don’t stop yellin-“ he stood up from his seat.

You were already in front of the cell. you reaches through the bars for the ring.

“Finally you made a good decision in your life. Give it to me, idiot”

He grabs your arm, pulls you to the bars, and starts kissing you passionately. The more you struggles, the tighter he envelops you.

Your eyes close, and your lips never separate. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and the world around you two fades. You gets lost in Billy’s kisses, and your heart beats hard in your chest. It’s like time stands still, and all that matters is that connection between the two of you. Your lips only separate for a moment to catch a quick breath, only to come back together with even more desire.

The deputy races across the room. Awkwardly, he grapples to separate you two. He rudely detach Billy’s hand from your waist before shoving him away.

Your hand secretly reaches down and pulls the gun from the deputy’s holster.

As he turns to face you, a red laser dot appears on the tip of his nose.

He is shocked.

“Let him out of there.”

You point the laser-scoped revolver right at him. You definitely means business. All the innocence that you previously had now vanished, replaced by a smirk he saw on many criminals’ faces.

The suddenness of the betrayal hits like a physical blow.

Even the most beautiful roses have thorns.

Bully chuckles in disbelief from behind him.

“Hey, don’t clown around with th-“ the deputy tries to take back control of the situation but the click of the security being removed silenced him. Fear grips his chest.

You did just as your lovely husband has taught you, and kept holding the gun dead-steady.

“I ain’t the one with the funny red nose. Now open the cell and exchange places with him” .you put your finger on the trigger. “Now”

Billy had a huge grin of satisfaction on his face, enjoying this too deeply

that’s my good boy

“Better do as they says, ‘cause wherever the red dot goes, a bullet is sure to follow.”

The deputy reluctantly removes his keys and turns toward Billy.

The rusty door opens, creaking loudly as it is set to 90 degrees, enough to allow Billy out. A cocky grin on his face as he steps outside and shoved the useless deputy inside but not before confiscating his radio.

You lowered the gun and went back towards the office to delete all the files that the deputy has written about the arrest of your husband, the computer still open. You tore apart the reports and heard the satisfying sound of paper behind disintegrate and deleted all the recording made by the cameras in the last 24 hours.

A small yell of surprise came from your lips as you were lifted from the ground and landed on the desk in front of you, the culprit had already his arms around you and 2 new guns on both of his sides as he stared lustily at you mouth.

“You never stop surprising me” your foreheads were touching and you felt his warm breath on your face.

“I’ve always been a fan of masks” You replied breathlessly, caressing the side of his cheek and feeling the pungent feeling of his stubble under your touch.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Billy leaned in close, lips brushing together. His lips mashed against yours, as if trying to flatten and destroy your mouth. You hungrily pushed back, your mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his stubble scratched against your cheeks. He worked his mouth against yours, your tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.

“Quick now. Let’s run away in another state” you lightly pushed him away, ignoring his small whine as you jumped back on your feet and went towards the exit of this stupid police office.

He checked you out with a smirk as he followed behind you, a plan of how he could show his gratitude to you already in his mind.

Note: hope you liked this as much as I had fun writing everything <3

[grimsonandclover]

titular song of the post You & I - Jeff Buckley

2006!Patrick Zweig x College!Reader

a short blurb about Patrick coming over during winter break to help you out. a little hurt/comfort (a gift for @shecriestotheclickingoftime)

SFW

1.7k words

very briefly proofread/edited because you asked for this like two/three days ago </3 and i didnt want you to wait longer

For Spring Break, you were going to drive over to Nevada with your friends. Freshly twenty-one, you were ready to go crazy. Instead, you went crazy over the toilet in your small dorm bathroom with a stomach bug your boyfriend, Patrick, brought with from tour. He went crazy in a hotel bathroom.

For Thanksgiving Break, you wanted to go home, but the drive was too long and your car broke down an hour out. You spent the week in your dorm eating frozen box stuffing and a turkey sandwich while on a call with your family, your account freshly hitting $4.72 after getting the vehicle towed and preparing your feast. You could practically smell the food at home. At least Patrick rented out a Home For The Holidays DVD, and you spent the night homesick in bed with him, thinking about your family while you watched.

For Winter Break, with a car still out of commission, you decided to fly home-- until you saw ticket prices. Your parents already spent what they had on your grandmother's hip replacement surgery, so that meant another frozen dinner and a phone call in your patheticly decorated dorm. You wanted to be there for that, the surgery, too, but they knew you couldn't afford to, so you sent your grandmother a bouquet of her favorite flowers with the last of your paycheck. They told you they didn't know how many Christmases she has left in her.

It's California, so it doesn't snow. Your parents email you pictures of your childhood home's front yard, and guess what, it's covered. That tree you used to climb on as a kid is bare and frozen, the sidewalk you'd draw with chalk on on summer days now caked with snow. Outside your dorm window, everything looks virtually identical than it did six months ago.

When the call is over and your dinner is barely touched, you slump across your tiny single bed, face first in the pillow. You'd scream into it, but you don't have enough energy. Unfortunately for both of you, Patrick has been dragged to the Zweig home back in Berlin for his annual mandatory visit.

The night is spent in quiet, unwelcomed solitude. Everyone you know is home for the holidays. Everyone but you. When you pace the dorm building halls, it's silent. Glenda, the cafeteria worker, took the night off because even she has family to see, so you and the few other stragglers are left to your own devices. The frozen dinner tastes shit, the vending machine snacks taste shit, and the local pizza place you love is closed.

You find yourself sinking more and more into that place you thought you left in highschool. You thought you were better, now. That was behind you.

Maybe it's because you've never been truly alone since you graduated, not like this. If it wasn't family around you, it was friends, or Patrick. But they're all singing carols and cutting through tough steak and slightly burned potatos. Now, you're truly left alone with your thoughts.

Patrick sends you a few texts throughout his day, promising to call as soon as his parents give him a moments peace. Your day-- your week is so full of nothing that the 8 hour time difference doesn't even matter to you, you catch them all as they're sent.

Eventually, the texts go quiet. You lay with your back on the floor, the 'Sketches...' CD you got one year for Christmas playing quietly from the corner of your room, staring up at the ceiling. You & I, the last track on the first disc, plays. Closing your eyes, you just let the melancholy you've been trying to deny wash over your for once.

"If we had only known in a way, we wouldn't reach this ground"

In waves. In crushing, drowning waves. You end up curling into your side on the floor, staring at the twisted carpet fibers. You don't cry.

"You were my only home, silver eyes I want to see you shine"

You just wanna go home. It's so quiet. It's so silent and the silent is so loud, even with the disc playing. When it's quiet like this, your mind tends to drift to everything that's ever hurt you. That's why you sleep with a white noise machine when you don't have Patrick's heartbeat to listen to. You tend to remember too much. He once said, while watching you stare at the ceiling one night, that you've got sad eyes. It's funny, cause your mom once mentioned it in passing while on a rant about how you isolated yourself too much in your junior year of highschool. Is that really a trait of yours? Sad eyes? How can you have sad eyes, so much so that others notice? How does that change? You can't blink it away, or rub them till they're red instead of blue. You asked him what he meant, voice low and half asleep, but he shook his head. "I dunno why I said that. I'm being a dick, I'm sorry. Go to sleep, kid." And then he ran his long fingers through your hair until you did. You almost liked thinking about that, because his fingers felt nice, but then you realized they weren't here now, that your hair was throughouly unbrushed completely. In fact, you don't remember if you showered this week.

"And we will feel the weight Fall away from us in time Searching our past for the true"

You can't find much energy to care. Because back at home, your little nephew whom you'd die for is in his PJs running down the hallway from the guestbedroom, jumping into your parent's bed, and begging to open presents. You hope the gift you got him arrived on time. The dagger twists when you realize you won't get to see his reaction-- it's always a highlight of your year. One day, he'll be too old to jump on your lap and squeeze the lights out of you, thanking you for being a better gift-giver than Saint Nick himself. Now, you do cry a little. Actually, just a single tear slips, because you havent drinken enough water lately to cry much.

The door behind you opens, and a shadow casts over you from the hallway light.

"You and I, you and I, you and I All for you"

"Baby, what are you doing on the floor?"

Patrick's got as many bags under his arms as he has under his eyes, a worn leather jacket over his shoulders, dark denim jeans, long-loved sneakers, and orange knit scarf around his neck making him look much more put together than you, because your outfit of choice is a pair of his sweatpants you stole once and a bra. You weren't really expecting company.

You roll back onto your back, looking up at him confused as he shuts the door and sets his bag down. Patrick unravels the scarf from his neck and shrugs the jacket off, crouching down and running those fingers through your hair like a stray kitten he'd found on the street. You could purr. His eyebrows are knit close as he analyzes the state his girlfriend's in. He'd last seen you a month ago, and Patrick would like to think he'd left you in a better state than this. He asks his question again, voice lower and softer. You don't move to get up.

"It's comfortable."

"You're, like, two feet away from your bed."

Your head lolls to the side, looking at said bed. You hum in acknowlagement. "It's comfortable."

He sighs, getting comfortable on the floor with you. A twelve hour flight just destroyed his back because he flew economy for the first time in his life and it's not made for him and his German height, and all he wants is to drag you to the king sized bed in his hotel down the road, but he'll scarifice himself for you. He'd spent a total of three days and eight hours at his parent's house, taking the earliest flight here to surprise you before Christmas officially ended-- meaning he skipped on the actual Christmas celebrations at home. He didn't care, it wouldn't be a shit show he hasn't witnessed before. "What's wrong, kid?"

Patrick asks it so softly, so tender and warm, so genuine. It feels like you're home. So, you really start crying.

Warm arms wrap around your waist, a hand coming up to the back of your neck and pulling you to his chest. His shirt is slightly sweaty, and your tears mix with it as he holds you in silence, letting you let it all out.

Based on your calls and texts recently, Patrick knew you weren't in the best place. You'd spent a night sniffling over the phone about your homesickness, how the walls of your dorm felt like they were caving in and suffocating you but at the same time, you were too tired to go out. He tried distracting you by telling you about all the embarassing things his older brother was doing back home, or how his mother got so drunk she accidentally mistook Patrick for her own brother and confessed things he could never unhear, but it just made you miss your own family more. When the call ended and he laid in bed, he struggled sleeping knowing how much you were hurting. He's only seen you like that once before, when your grandfather died a few months after you started dating and a week before midterms.

It's when his shirt is really soaked that you pull away, taking a hiccuping breath to compose yourself as he wipes your tears for you.

"I'm sorry, that was... fuck, your shirt."

"I can wash it."

Your wet eyes look up at his tired ones, and you're so greatful he's here. You feel less alone. "Let's move to the bed, my back hurts." He whispers.

Despite that, he carries you and sets you onto the matress, pulling the blanket over the two of you. It's been a long week, but his arms and warmth, your heartbeat in his ear, make it feel a little better.

"I said, we will feel the weight Fall away from us in time Searching our past for a true You and I, you and I, you and I All for you"

[yutopia-eleftheria]

Shehroz Peony Rose & Ewan Draggoun Headcanons

I decided to do some sketches, and at the same time headcanons for them, since it was Shehroz's birthday on September 26th in my AU. Also Ewan is my cousin and it is his Pokémon Sword OC (and his birthday is on September 25th), and when the game came out, we created some scenarios with his OC and the chairman.7 (and we had so much fun doing it !)♥

Almost 5 years after the game's release, I finally decided to draw some of the moments and talk about the story we created, in the form of headcanons.

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

Some sketches :

From painful and sad to funny sketches ! (Yeah we had all kinds of stories and emotions in this)

Sketch 1 :

When Ethernatos (Eternatus) broke out from his shell, it actually created some sort of slight explosions of its "needles", and Shehroz was actually hit by 3 of them, but he didn't notice as it doesn't hurt instantly.

He turned himself in after the whole incident, and he got to jail literally for a day, as he was charged for doing works for Galar, just like Liv Oleana.

3 days after the incident, when he was heading back to Rose Tower alongside the young man to see about the infamous battle tower led by Tarak Landon (Leon), Shehroz felt dizzy and suddenly collapsed.

That's where they noticed the poisonous needles on his body. They had to act quickly otherwise that would led him to his demise.

Ewan managed to take them all out with the help of Tarak and Sonya, but it was more and more painful as each was taken away. Which is why he was bleeding a little from his mouth and nose.

Sketch 2 :

He stayed unconscious for a few days and was constantly checked by everyone. Ewan eventually told Liv about what happened (and Shehroz was like : "Why did you tell her ?..." when he was awake.)

Oh ! And also : he doesn't remember anything about what happened as a side effect.

Even though his "coma state" only lasted a few days, he was still too weak to do anything, so he had to stay in bed for around 2 more weeks before fully healing.

Such a thing happening all of a sudden made Ewan realized that he needs to live his life to its fullest, because you never know when you could possibly leave this World...

Shehroz is so thankful to Ewan that he is like giving him everything he can, and helps him out with everything.

Sketch 3 :

Their relationship is getting better and better as time goes by. And Ewan is actually protective over Shehroz as well.

Ewan became a member of Macro Cosmos. He is considered the third biggest figure of the brand.

Sometimes it's Ewan that accompanies Shehroz around, so someone could stay at the tower to work. He and Liv exchanged their places from time to time.

Ewan is not afraid to be rude if someone insults Shehroz (as you can see above).

Sketch 4 :

As much as Ewan cares about Shehroz and is usually gentle to him, he also LOVES to tease him.

He likes to tell jokes to him, teasing, as well as trying to scare him from behind.

Yeah he is dressed all classy and all (he followed Shehroz's dress code I guess), but he is a prankster to his boss.

Sketch 5 :

Ewan knows very well that Shehroz and Liv love each other.

He fully supports them and even wants them to confess already ! (as they already lost enough time and moments together in his opinion).

His mission ends up being a success as they will become official.

Ewan actually has a huge crush on Sonya, but is too afraid to confess.

Shehroz tries his best to convince Ewan to just go ahead as she is very close to Tarak.

Unfortunately for him, Ewan took too much time and lost her, as she is now officially with Tarak.

He is still very happy for his boss nonetheless, but still very bitter that Sonya is with Tarak.

He tries to comfort himself by looking at pictures of her (see above), but Shehroz doesn't think that it's a good idea to cope.

Eternal Rose :

At some point, Ethernatos' power suddenly triggered out of nowhere and Shehroz lost control and became agressive. The first sign was his eyes turning bright pink.

Ewan had to fight for his life that time. Quickly realizing that, he took out his coat and fought back.

Shehroz managed to take him down and was about to finish him off (as seen above), but Liv had to act otherwise Ewan would have been dead, and Liv didn't wanted Shehroz to have blood on his hands on top of that (although he would not remember it).

This act allows Ewan to subdue Shehroz and calm down Ethernatos's fury until the transformation was off.

Thanks to that, Shehroz will not transform randomly for no reason, however, when he is VERY angry, it's gonna take over.

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BONUS !

Old Sketches I did before having my tablet (2020) :

Back when I was still able to use pens and markers well ...

Sketch 1 :

As mentioned before, Ewan LOVES to tease his boss. When he asks if he was over 40, he answered no (he's 37 in my Headcanon).

Despite this fact being true, Ewan calls him an "old 40 years old man".

Shehroz doesn't like that at all, and he keeps telling him how he would then call older people like Kabu, Sally Opal or Mustar.

Sketch 2 :

If Shehroz is angry, Ethernatos will start to appear slowly, starting with the eyes.

He will also grow sharp teeth as well.

After what happened the first time, Ewan is very cautious.

If he sees Shehroz starting to turn, he will calm down because otherwise, this could end badly for the young man.

If Ewan tease Shehroz, Shehroz will tease him back.

The best example was Sonya, and boy does he love seeing him angry.

He founds it funny (unlike Liv who is terrifying).

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So yeah ; those 2 can be REALLY silly and we had a lot of fun creating these stories back then. Love you cousin ♥ (How are you 16 already ?!...)

[300yearschallenge]

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3 I Part 4

The main house was a simple two room cabin with a small hallway connecting the two.

To the left was the bedroom, and to the right was the kitchen. The furniture was well worn and robust, and although the place was much less fancy than the Park home it seemed like a wealth of luxury to Charles Elias after his long journey.

Once inside Charles Elias was invited to sit at the dinner table, with the old man, who introduced himself as Isak, sitting at the head of the table.

"Now then," Isak said, "Why don't you explain why on earth you've come all this way to see Theodore, and I'll have my niece cook us up a nice warm meal while we talk."

Once Isak had called out to a younger girl, who walked in with barely a hello and who kept her gaze firmly away from the group, Charles Elias began telling everyone his story.

He skirted around the truth of who his father was, worried that it would reflect poorly on both Charles Elias, his mother and Theodore if it were to come out, and instead leaned heavily into Joseph's behaviour as the driving force of him leaving.

It wasn't technically a lie.

The more Charles Elias spoke, the more of his frustration poured out.

How angry he was at the man who had raised him for how he had been treated, how slighted he felt, how he reached a point where he just couldn't take it anymore.

And the more Charles Elias spoke, the sadder Theodore and Isak looked. They all knew their culture said you should always listen to and obey the head of the household, but they could also understand that a hurt and angry teenage boy might not follow those expectations.

Once Charles Elias was done, Theodore spoke up.

"Well," he said, "I certainly think you had cause to leave. It was a rash decision, but I can't find it within myself to hold it against you."

Charles Elias breathed a sigh of relief.

"Personally," Theodore continued, "And I hope you don't mind the suggestion, sir, I wouldn't be opposed to having you stay here and help out with the fishing. It's hard work, but it's honest work, and a strong young man such as yourself would do well."

"I-I wouldn't mind fishing, sir," Charles Elias said, glancing towards the man at the head of the table, "I promise I will work hard to earn my living if I you let me stay here."

"I don't see why not," Isak said, "Theodore staying with us has supported our family immensely, and having an extra hand here would do wonders."

Charles Elias smiled.

"I say you're welcome to stay in Theodore's cabin, and to work with us. Welcome, Charles Elias."

With the tension of weeks of travel gone, the conversation began to flow more freely.

Theodore and Charles Elias joked and reminisced, and Isak told a few far-fetched stories of his fishing days as a young man.

Finally, everything felt alright again.

.

.

Historical Info

Oh boy, oh boy! Get ready for historical info you guys, and thank you to everyone for your patience <3

Since I'll be covering two different topics, I'm gonna arrange it into different sub-headers to make reading easier.

Charles Elias' Path

We've discussed the Postal Road between Stockholm and Turku in the past, primarily looking into how it functioned in general.

As such, I won't go into all of that again, but will instead look at the path that Charles Elias took to reach Theodore.

Using this map as a base, I made a sketch of the path that Charles Elias took in order to reach Theodore.

I've always kept the exact village etc. where my sims live somewhat vague on purpose, mostly to have a little bit more room for storytelling.

But, in general terms, you can see what areas I've imagined Charles Elias started his journey from (blue) and where he ended it (red).

The blue X to the west marks the location of the postal harbour, which would have been the point where he turned east.

Now, if you were to make this journey today it would not take two weeks. With car you can make this journey in like maybe 40(?) minutes or so, and on foot google maps says such a walk would take aprox. 17 hours.

However! Keeping in mind that nowadays we have the luxury of modern, well-kept roads and easier modes of transport, I reckoned it made sense if the journey took longer.

There were less roads in general, most were dirt roads, and many small channels of water had to be crossed by boat or bridge. Taking into consideration setting up camp/sleeping somewhere and winter conditions and I figured it would make sense for such a journey to take much longer.

Inns

Set up along the postal road and larger roads at this time were a number of inns.

For the most part these inns were somewhat simple, and often mostly had a main room and some rooms for travelers. The primary people who came to the inns were people traveling along the postal road, primarily "officials, military, merchants and sometimes sailors and boatsmen". This we know since the inns were demanded to keep a diary of their visitors, some of which have survived to modern day.

The quality of the inns at this time varied, with some travel diaries bemoaning the quality, while others thought it was pretty okay. "Guests of higher social standing preferred to stay with priests instead."

Source: Det Åländska Folkets Historia Vol. III (The History of the Åland People Vol. III) by Stig Dreijer

[hoffmanushka]

Pov: where Gideon was born after all, and all of Kramer's assistants are close friends.

Jill Kramer gave birth to a beautiful boy, just as John had imagined, for whom everything was always planned out on the shelves.

The baby was developing as expected for his age, and when John finally allowed him to come to them, Amanda and Hoffman were there almost immediately, but Gordon came only in the evening, because he was detained in the hospital, work was everything to him.

Mark:

Mark was always cruel to everyone, but the younger Kramer was different, he could even ride him in his arms, allowing him more than anyone else. In the baby, he saw his younger sister Angelina, whom he could not save, but he would do everything so that baby Gideon was alive and happy.

➖➖

Angelina was killed by her own boyfriend and as soon as Hoffman found out about it, he immediately rushed to the crime scene. The girl was dying in his arms, and while Mark was screaming in despair, he swore that he would avenge his sister and protect baby Gideon by all means, even if he had to give his life for the baby.

➖➖

While the baby was riding in Hoffman's arms, Amanda came and brought him toys created according to John's own designs.

Amanda:

The baby crawled up to the girl and climbed into her arms, contentedly clapping his hands and hugging Miss Young, carefully lifting his hands to the girl's face, kissing her with his little lips, after which the girl's face immediately turned red and the baby laughed again.

➖➖

The girl loved to hurt herself, and when she once again raised a knife to herself, baby Gideon crawled into the room.

-ow!)

The baby, who was crawling towards his beloved aunt, said contentedly. Seeing the baby, she immediately removed the blade and took the little one in her arms.

He stretched his paws to the girl's injured hand and immediately burst into tears when he saw the wounds on the girl, he was very scared for her.

She immediately hugged the boy to herself, and a pleasant heat passed through her body, because no one had ever worried about her like this little bundle of joy, born in a happy and strong marriage.

After that day, she, like Hoffman, swore that she would never let anyone hurt the younger Kramer.

➖➖

In the evening, Gordon and Jill arrived, John brought them both, because their hospitals were nearby.

Lawrence conducted another examination of John and, fortunately for the Kramer family, the man turned out to be operable and his operation will take place in the coming days, it will be performed by Gordon himself and Lynn Denlon.

A couple of weeks later, the operation was performed and Kramer was sent home, where everyone met him and had a nice family evening, surrounded by his closest friends.

All the difficulties are behind us and now we can enjoy a quiet and peaceful LIFE.

A cute sketch about my loved ones, but they are finally doing well.

Enjoy reading💕

[nerdysleepybunny]

shroomieeeieei 😔

its been kinda rough these past few days and the week has only started 😭 is it okay if i can have fullscore trio hcs with a fatigued and burned out gn reader? ive been feeling very tired with my workload recently. if that's too much you can just do one of your choosing, doesn't really matter to me. tysm <3

This is exactly how I’ve felt which is why I’ve been using this schedule. 😭 I really hope it all gets better for you. Thank you so much for the request, hope you enjoy!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Fandom(s): The Promised Neverland

Character(s): Norman, Ray, Emma (ft Isabella)

Reader: Gender neutral (they/you)

TW: N/A

Style: Hcs

Summary: You feel extremely burnt out and unmotivated, so the trio help you out!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Norman:

Ever since the escape plan had been mentioned you’ve been devoting all your free time to working on it, including play time. All the children, including Norman, were getting worried. Yet you insisted that you were just fine and were simply working out some things.

It got to a point where you skipped meals and even stayed up instead of sleeping.

Norman would wake up in the middle of the night to see you sketching out a layout and taking some notes before thinking of the pros and cons, then crumpling up your failed idea and throwing it to the side before starting anew. He’d quietly scold you before bringing you to bed with him and holding you tightly in his embrace so you couldn’t escape, you eventually giving up and staring around the room, instead doing the calculations in your head. You usually only got 1 hour of sleep if not then none.

Norman eventually got used to you not showing up to meals, and would keep your food hot to the best of his abilities whilst eating his food. Once eating time was over, he’d walk up to your room and bring you your food. Though he’d begin to notice how you only took a few bites before completely ignoring it and focusing on your work.

He soon got fed up and confronted you about it, but you wouldn’t budge. He soon gave up and instead just tried to take care of you to the best of his abilities. But over time, the sleepiness and hunger caught up to you, to the point you could barely function. You awoke in the infirmary after passing out in a pile of crumpled papers (luckily Mom didn’t find a single one), with a worried Norman by your side.

“Please (Y/N), never do that again..” You could only be ashamed of yourself as you saw the albino whimper and cry. You hadn’t realized how much you were hurting him. When you got out of the infirmary, everyone assumed you were fine. But in reality you were still out of it. Walking and talking was a challenge, so Norman walked with you and didn’t question it when you didn’t respond to something. He saw this as you learning your lesson, but didn’t rub it in your face.

Eventually, the physical effects had long since healed, but you were still mentally exhausted. You tried your absolute best, but you had no motivation to do anything, instead only being able to lay on your bed all day and occasionally eat. Norman assumed you were overworking yourself again but was surprised when he walked i to your room to see you nowhere near your work, instead you seemed to be avoiding it like the plague, getting stressed and uncomfortable when it was brought up. Finally, you gave up the act, and collapsed onto Norman’s lap with tears filling your eyes.

“Norman… I can’t do this anymore. I can barely function. I don’t want to do anything anymore..” You sobbed, soaking his shirt, but he didn’t mind.

“Lay down and rest for as long as you need to. I’ll get everything done for you.”

“Really?…” You could barely lift your head to look into his ocean eyes, but when you tried to, it was pushed back down into his chest.

“Yes, now stop pushing yourself to do things. Your body is exhausted. You and your body need rest.” You could barely listen to his words as you made yourself comfortable on your bed. Norman smiled at your sleeping form before walking over to your abandoned work. He looked over your sketches and notes and quickly built a plan, one that wouldn’t fail. He disposed of all the evidence and hid the final paper behind his bed, where he’d tell everyone the plan tomorrow. For now, he needed to give you the attention and care necessary to get you back to your old self.

Ray:

You just had so much on your plate. It was so little work that could be done within just a few hours, but today was just not your day. Everything around you was stressing you out and you didn’t know what to do.

Mom wanted you to do chores, the kids wanted you to play with them, Ray wanted to read with you, you have to help with the escape plan, and you have to pretend you don’t know the secret. It was too much for you to handle, and not knowing what else to do, you cried. You hid yourself deep in your blankets and sobbed into a pillow.

Ray was walking towards the library when he suddenly heard a noise coming from your room. Cracking the door open and peeking in, he saw you sobbing your little heart out. His soft spot immediately came out and he rushed toward you, patting your head.

“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” He pulled you out of your hiding place and allowed you to sob into his shirt until you could speak.

Your tears finally came to a stop and you pulled away, drying your face with your sleeve, telling him your worries. The boy laughed a bit and ruffled your hair.

“I could easily help with that.”

“You can?”

“Yeah, I can take care of your chores, Norman or Emma can play with the kids, and I can just read to you. The Mom part is easy, just be yourself. Don’t show any signs of fear and don’t be suspicious. You need to think of reasonable excuses on the spot. I know you can do that.” You smiled at the raven haired boy and fell into his embrace once again.

“Thank you, Ray…”

“Yeah, now lay down. You want a snack or anything?” You shook your head no and he nodded, laying down next to you and pulling out the book he was holding before he came in here. Flipping to the page you two finished on, he began reading aloud to you as you rested your head on his shoulder and finally relaxed.

Emma: (this one is more female-based but still gn!)

You were on your period and just didn’t feel like doing anything, so you did just that. You and Emma were best friends, and did everything together. You were inseparable. So she of course began to get worried when you stopped hanging out with her to instead stay in your room. Did she do something wrong?

Eventually she decided to confront you about it, so she marched upstairs to your room and knocked on the door. When there was no answer from you, she opened the door and let herself in. She was mortified by the sight.

You were curled up on your bed, clutching your stomach and grumbling, shifting around trying to get comfy. There were tissues, toilet paper (let’s pretend there’s no pads cuz you aren’t expected to get your period at this age, so you gotta do it the tp way 🥲) and snacks covering your night stand. Your hair and room was an absolute mess. Emma got the hint that something was wrong but didn’t know what, since none of the orphans knew what periods were, not even you since this was your first. You just knew you were in pain and bleeding like crazy.

She ran over to you and held you in her arms.

“(Y/N) what’s wrong?! Are you hurt?!” You weakly nodded, and she began screaming for Mom.

Isabella came rushing in, seeing the mess of you. You were put in the infirmary, and you told Isabella your symptoms. She laughed, soon realizing what was wrong with you.

“You’re on your period, dear.”

“My what?”

“Your period, it comes every month.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when you’re older, dear (Y/N).” You grumbled in defeat, staring down at your stomach which felt like it was eating you from the inside.

“So I have to suffer every month?”

“I’m afraid so. It usually lasts for a week, but there are ways to ease your pain. I can also help you with the blood.” Isabella got you pads and a heating pad. She was shocked you were the first to get a period, she’s never had to deal with this before. First time for everything I suppose.

You told Emma what Mom told you so she’d somewhat understand your situation, but you made her promise not to tell anyone, especially the boys. She happily pinkie promised.

Whilst you were “sick”, as Emma told everyone to cover for you, you were completely unmotivated to do anything. It hurt to move, and you felt exhausted. Either Mom or Emma brought you your food, and Mom put your testing thing on a platform with wheels so you could take your daily tests in bed. Emma would visit you multiple times a day, only leaving your side for testing or when she had to go do something. You eventually told her about your lack of motivation and your mood swings, to which she was quick to comfort you.

“Don’t worry, I know your period makes you feel certain ways you wouldn’t normally feel. Mom said these usually last a week, and it’s been 5 days! You’ll be back to your old self in no time!” You smiled at her positivity and opened your arms for her, to which she happily collapsed into.

“Thank you Emma, I love you.”

“I love you too (Y/N)!” You felt better already. Yes, she was right, things would be back to normal soon.

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

[cherrisma]

# Albedo ?!

Written for @versadies' Farewell love event (cyno is coming soon i swear)

warnings: yandere behavior, experiment!reader. I do not condone yandere behavior in real life in any way, shape or form.

Prompts used: 3 (“stop it, you’re hurting me!”), 8 (“you’re a monster.”), 9 (“i wish i never met you.”), 11 (“i don’t love you anymore.”), 16 (“everything i’ve done, it was all for you.”)

Albedo and you: the two successful experiments, bonded together through the pain of being mere artificial beings amongst so many normal people. Albedo was made from chalk, and you… you were made from glass. Fragile and easy to break, both of you were created from alchemy. As it was, you two had a… special bond.

He was the chief alchemist of Mondstadt, and you were his assistant alongside Sucrose. Usually secluded in Albedo’s camp in Dragonspine, you didn’t really encounter anyone except for the Traveler, Timaeus, and perhaps the occasional Fatui or treasure hoarder. And well, they never lasted long.

So it shocked you when you first visited the City of Freedom, caged by walls.

There were people everywhere. It was so lively. Hand in hand with Albedo, you explored the city for your first time. All was calm and peaceful, and you met so many new people!

After time went by, you couldn’t help but make a few friends: Amber, the ever diligent gliding champion of Mondstadt, Jean, the acting Grand Master, and even the closed off and reserved Diluc (oF mONdstAdT), who ran Dawn Winery and the Angel’s Share.

But this, of course, didn’t go past Albedo. He noticed that you were spending a lot more time with Diluc, and he was… well, in short, he was jealous. So one day, when you invited Diluc to visit you and Albedo at Dragonspine and gave him a heads up, Albedo jumped at the opportunity to be a little… treacherous?

---

“It’s freezing here. Without my vision, I’d feel like I’m freezing to death…” Diluc murmured, each breath he took letting out a puff of white air, to which you were fascinated by.

You giggled, and responded, “You get used to it soon enough. Once you spend day and night here for weeks, well… you sort of adapt. Anyways, we’re here.”

You walked into your small but comfortable encampment, and smiled when you saw Albedo hunched over his desk. You made your way over to him, and gently tapped the desk that was covered in papers with sketches (of experiments, animals, and of course, you <3). Albedo glanced up from what he was working on --a drawing of a spider that he saw-- and smiled.

“Hello dear. How was the trip back? You should get something to warm you up, and I’ll keep Diluc company for the while.”

You smiled and walked inside of your shared tent with Albedo and began preparing some things for Diluc and Albedo.

----

“Hello Albedo, I haven’t seen you in a while.” Diluc said formally. “I trust that being one of my brother’s closest friends means you’ve been through hell and high waters? I admire that patience of yours, being able to deal with him every time you see him.”

“Yes, it’s been… quite the ride since I’ve befriended him.” Albedo responded, peering back at  the tent to make sure that you were inside. Suddenly, Albedo whipped out the cinnabar spindle and knocked Diluc out. For such an accomplished individual, he had some terrible response time.

Diluc collapsed onto the ground, and when you happily emerged from the tent with some food you’d cooked up, you dropped the pot in shock.

“A-albedo?” you called out.

“Darling! How are you?” Albedo replied, closing in on you. He took your wrist in a stunningly tight grip, pain erupting at the places his gloved hand made contact with.

“Stop it, you're hurting me!” you choked out, and Albedo loosened his grip, just by a tiny bit.

“Love, everything I’ve done and will do…” he said, leaning to touch his forehead to yours, “is for you.”

“You’re… a monster. What did you do to Diluc? He didn’t do anything wr-”

“Darling… you have to understand me! He was getting too close to you..”

“I don’t…” your voice cracked. “I don’t love you anymore. The Albedo I fell in love with wasn’t like this…”

“Ah, but darling--” Albedo started, his eyes holding an evil glint. “I’m not the Albedo you fell in love with. I’m… the failed version of him. The Albedo you fell in love with? He’s… gone. You don’t need to worry about him anymore, dearest.”

You stared at the man in front of you in shock.

“Then--” you started talking, yanking your wrist out of his grasp. “I’m not your partner. I was never your partner. The Albedo that I was partnered with is gone and you can never replace--”

“I know.” The prototype Albedo said, glaring at you. “That just means if you won’t stay with me willingly--”

Prototype Albedo walked up to your form, who was slinking back, as if trying to escape and grabbed your shoulders. “--I’ll have to make you stay by force.”

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle

Characters: The Patron x Reader

Words: 2856

Content warnings: break in, stalking

divider by firefly-graphics and delishlydelightfuldividers

At first, everything had seemed normal. The door had been locked and the hall undisturbed. But one step into the living room brought this illusion of peace to an abrupt ending. The glass sliding door that led out to the garden was wide open. On the floor between the sofa and the TV stand were a bunch of cables, the only sign left that there had been a flatscreen and gaming consoles once. Your thoughts immediately snapped to your PC, it had all your writing and important documents on it, and you basically ran towards your bedroom. The thought that maybe whoever was responsible for this could still be around didn't even cross your mind; all you cared about was checking if your things were still there – but as you had feared, the desk was empty. 

There were papers and pencils and random knick-knacks strewn all over the floor, drawers having been pulled out and turned over. You slowly stepped closer, looking down at the mess, the realisation that you most likely wouldn’t find any of your USB-sticks, external hard drives, or other storage devices among the chaos slowly settling in. Anything even remotely technological was gone. All your writing, years' worth of work, was gone.  

Everything you hadn’t managed or been willing to save online, at least. With all your older documents it hadn’t seemed necessary – you had it saved locally and on at least one other medium, that should’ve been enough, right? For your recent work, there had been persistent Wi-Fi issues keeping you from updating the cloud, and between uni and work you just hadn’t had the time or energy to keep running after the provider. 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm down and take a more rational approach to the situation. Panicking wouldn’t help. Not all your work was gone, after all. Sure, you had made quite some progress recently, having been hit by one of those mysterious bouts of inspiration, but you’d be able to rewrite it. Even if the thought hurt because you weren’t sure you’d manage to get it right a second time, that it would only feel like a weak copy. 

Then you remembered that at least some of it had only been copied to your PC from physical notes – sometimes, writing traditionally on paper helped you overcome a writer’s block, and especially in the last couple weeks the screen if both your PC and laptop had been daunting. The sight of the writing program had merely been a reminder of uni work and term papers, so you had been writing and taking notes in your notebook, along with the occasional sketch. Your bag hit the floor with a dull thud, and your hands were shaking as you unzipped it. But as soon as your eyes fell onto its contents, your heart dropped.  

No. It couldn’t be. 

You felt your throat tighten up, your chest constricting as fear and dread took over. The space that was supposed to hold your laptop and notebook was empty. Maybe your notebook had somehow slipped down, you head insisted, or maybe you had accidentally thrown it into the main compartment. Still, even turning over your backpack and emptying it of all its contents didn’t reveal anything new. Every single note, reference sketch, or silly scribbles had disappeared along with the book. 

Not only had your home been robbed, but someone had seemingly also stolen from you at uni. And finding that your wallet had remained untouched gave you a quite clear idea who was responsible. There had been a small group of more well of kids that had been harassing you for a few months now - yet there was nothing you could do. Even if you had evidence that they had taken things from your bag, the uni hadn’t cared about the bullying, violence, and stealing going on so far. Your case would hardly be different.  

Exhaustion hit you like a sledgehammer, yet you knew you should do something. At the very least you had to call someone about the broken door, right? Was it even broken? You hadn’t checked. 

You also probably needed to take pictures, keep notes on the exact state of the flat before tidying. Make a list of what exactly was gone, take inventory of what you had. And then... go to the police? Was this something they dealt with? Would they even take you seriously? Because they most certainly hadn’t the last time. 

When you had gone and asked for help with a possible stalker, they had sent you away, waved you off because you hadn’t been hurt or threatened so far. There supposedly had been nothing they could do. And even if that was true, they didn’t seem eager to investigate either. As you had been leaving the office, you’d overheard one man saying to another one how you should be flattered to have a secret admirer, and how women these days didn’t know how to take compliments anymore. 

Compliments were one thing, even anonymous love notes or whatever could have been acceptable – had they appeared in your mailbox or in front of your door, not your dinner table. Your secret admirer, or stalker, whatever you wanted to call him however had been entering your flat. Although, so far, he had only left fairly respectful notes and the gifts hadn’t been unusual or creepy. Except for the fact that he did seem to know your taste very well, even more than your friends or family, and certainly better than past partners.  

Either way, there didn’t seem anything you could do about the situation, and you didn’t want to risk angering him. You didn’t actually know anything about him after all, which made him and possible reactions to your actions unpredictable. Which also was part of the reason that, despite him not having shown any interest in your material possessions so far, you couldn’t deny he was the only person you were aware of who was certainly able to get in. Then again, he’d never left any evidence of having been there aside from his notes or gifts. This didn’t seem like him. Being a stalker was one thing, being a robber another. You sighed. 

Just then, a firm knock on the front door startled you, ripping you from your thoughts. For a moment, you just stood there, frozen in the middle of your bedroom, before shaking the momentary shock off. It would hardly be the people who’d broken in coming back to introduce themselves, and although it wasn’t typical to knock instead of ringing the doorbell, it wasn’t completely unheard of. Maybe a neighbour had seen or heard something and come to check on you. 

As you approached the front door, you spotted a white rectangle on the floor; a folded piece of paper that seemed to have been pushed through the gap between wood and laminate. You picked it up before peeking through the peephole, but you couldn’t see anyone in front of your door. Still, you opened the door to properly check if there was someone in the hall, but it was completely empty.  

Stepping back into the flat and gently closing the door, you unfolded the note. Both the manner of delivery and the wording were strange and unusual, there was no greeting or signature, but the handwriting was unmistakable. Your secret admirer, your “Patron”, had left you a message: 

Do not call the police, I will take care of it.

Against all reason and logic, you had done as the note had told you. You still had taken pictures and written down what had been taken, but nothing more. Cables had been pushed out of the way, the desk tidied, and you had gotten a new notebook from your ever-growing collection, before taking a shower and nap. By the time you'd woken up, it had already been dark outside, so you had plopped down on your sofa with some snacks and watched a film on your phone. Things could have been worse. 

The next morning, you did your best to pretend nothing had happened, pointedly ignoring the empty spaces on your desk and the living room wall. If by the time you got home from uni nothing had happened, you’d go to the police – even though you weren’t sure what exactly you expected to happen. All the note had said was that your secret admirer would “take care of it”. But when you entered the kitchen, you were surprised to find a bottle of your favourite drink, along with some pastries and chocolates on the counter. When you stepped closer, you noticed an envelope as well, but that wasn’t what made your breath hitch and heart skip a beat. 

Slowly and carefully, as if scared it would disappear, you picked up the notebook, covered in stickers and patches, a colourful chaos with only a marginal degree of system. You were almost hesitant to open it, almost expecting to find the pages blank or missing, but on first glance it seemed like everything was just as you had left it. Finding it here, in your kitchen, along with other gifts, meant that he had been inside your flat while you had been asleep, but you didn’t care. Nor did you want to know how or where he had gotten it. Sure, there was a chance that maybe it had been him who had stolen it only to heroically return it, but the idea seemed bizarre. The most important thing was that you had it back. 

You considered leaving it at home to make sure it was safe from your bullies, but you didn’t want to part with it. Instead, you got the padlock you usually used when travelling and locked the zippers of your backpack together. For a moment you wondered if you were overreacting, but then again, who cared? It was keeping your wallet safe as well. And the notebook, no matter how silly it might have seemed to outsiders, was one of your most important possessions. 

You filled a glass and grabbed the pastry back to go and have breakfast, then remembered the envelope and picked it up as well.  

My dear muse,  

Good morning, I hope your breakfast tasted wonderful and you had time to enjoy it immensely.  

I apologize for being so vague. I should have told you about what I was intending to do. I understand that my letter might have spurred unwanted feelings of dread because of that. I apologize yet again. 

However, I hope having your notebook back in your possession has given you some peace of mind. 

Concerning the rest... I will need a little more time to attend to the "other matters." I should have everything sorted by the time you return from your classes.  

If I am not able to recover the rest before you come back from university, I promise you I will bring them tomorrow.  

Have a nice and safe day, my darling.  

~ The Patron 

The letter was written in the usual style, which was more of a comfort than you had expected. Still, it was somewhat cryptic and left you a little puzzled, but you shrugged it off. You’d leave him to do what he’d planned – it's not like you could stop him anyway – and you’d see the result in the afternoon. It was almost the same as always, just that you usually didn’t receive any prior info or notification. 

Another thing that deviated from the norm was the fact that you left a note in return. Nothing special, just a simple “Thank you” on a sticky note. You felt somewhat unsure about it and almost threw it into the trash, but you forced yourself to put it on the table, right in front of the vase holding the most recent flowers he’d left you. It was just a tiny gesture of gratitude, there surely could be no harm in that. And you were grateful, more than words could express, so a small note was the least you could offer, right? 

Throughout the day you were pleasantly surprised that you didn’t run into any of your bullies. You didn’t even catch a glimpse of them, which was more than alright with you. They could be dead in a ditch somewhere and you wouldn’t shed a tear – and you doubted anyone else who’d been terrorised by the group would be too bothered. Then, towards the end of your last lecture, the rumours started. The lecturer tried to keep everyone’s attention, but people kept whispering to each other, and the group chat was blowing up, so the class was dismissed about fifteen minutes early. 

Despite trying to keep your curiosity in check and stay out of the gossip, you couldn’t help yourself when one of your fellow students ran up to you and asked if you’d already heard “the news”. You shrugged, “I haven’t heard or read anything yet, class just ended and the chat’s a freaking mess. I don’t think I’ll be reading through over 500 messages.” 

The other girl, Cailin, if you remembered correctly, snorted and replied, “Yeah, I get that, I’ve given up on that as well. But the general gist is the following: first of all, the resident ‘Alphas’ and their girlfriends claim to have been attacked yesterday after classes. However, they also claim that they don’t know by whom, and can’t describe this ‘attacker’ either. Plus, they weren’t injured or anything. Just had their shit thrown into the stream.” 

“No fucking way,” you said, mouth stretching into a grin, “For real? Has karma finally caught up to them?” 

“Oh, you have no idea,” Cailin continued, bouncing on her feet, “Y’know how like half of their relationships are set-up and like some kind of ‘arranged marriage’ type of stuff? Turns out that apparently Charlotte has been cheating on dear Johnny for... the whole length of their relationship. With anyone and everyone. Their parents are not happy. Then we have our self-proclaimed king Zack who’s been found with drugs on him, plus in his room, so he’s now being investigated by the police and his parents are threatening to disown him. Naturally, this is throwing a bad light on the Queen Bee’s family – and it does most certainly not help that someone leaked info and files that supposedly prove administration has fudged some grades in the past. It is suspected that they may have either been bribed or blackmailed. Either way... lots of shit is going down right now and I’m not sure if we’ll be seeing those guys again any time soon.” 

You smiled, genuinely and flooded with relief, “So maybe there is justice in this universe after all?” 

Cailin returned your smile, “Seems like it. And so far, they’re not getting too much sympathy from people around here.” 

“Serves them right,” you said, adjusting your backpack, “I really should head of now though, gonna miss the bus otherwise.” 

“Alright then, see you around,” Cailin replied and waved at you as you were leaving. 

Seeing your flat in basically the same state as you had left it the day before left you feeling both amazed and slightly unsettled. Somehow within the last six hours, “The Patron” had managed to return and install your TV, consoles, and PC. Everything undamaged. There was no a sign they’d ever been gone, or that someone had been in your home. You approached your desk slowly and sat down, looking at the computer screen like you’d never seen it before. Reaching for the on-switch was muscle memory, and the PC started without a hitch. You must’ve spent an hour at least just checking your documents and images, and miraculously finding everything as it had been. 

Again, the thought that “The Patron” had been behind the whole thing all along and that it was just a ruse to get into your good graces, but it just didn’t feel right. You wouldn’t say that you knew the guy or that you understood the way he was thinking; if anything, this had only brought up more questions. From being an anonymous, mysterious “secret admirer” who never really interacted with you in a direct manner, he’d turned into someone you now knew actually and actively cared about you as a person, in your everyday life. He had personally fixed an issue just as it had come up, he had most likely personally knocked on your door and left a note. 

He had been so close and actually let you know, even if it was only due to the special circumstances. 

Then you remembered the post-it you’d left and jumped up to almost run to the dining table. Your sticky note was gone, replaced by one simply saying:

At your service.  

Up until this day, you hadn’t had any desire to meet the mystery person stalking you. Even though the notes and gifts had been nice, it still had left you with an insistent sense of unease. But now, despite being completely unreasonable and irrational, a part of you wanted to have closer, more personal contact. Maybe you’d leave him a note again tomorrow. 

The Patron is @solmints-messyocdiary's OC, she's also the one who wrote his letter

taggedy tag-tag: @bluecoolr @ace-of-hearts-and-spades @visceravalentines @probably-a-plant-thing @rottent33th @the-pinstriped-hood @cyanide-latte @goldrose-star @myers-meadow @immortal-velociraptor

as always, if you'd prefer not to be tagged or you want to be tagged, please let me know <3