#haven’t watched the final two episodes left

[m--rtyr]

Tua s1: the apocalypse is a metaphor for a character having a violent outburst as a reaction to the abuse they’ve endured their entire life, and the abuse they then endure as an adult as a result. It’s a discussion on how you cannot undo trauma in a short period of time when it’s so deeply intertwined into your identity and your relationships, especially when the people trying to help you are so heavily formed by their own trauma, and how it can actually make things worse.

Tua s4: Baby shark…. On loop…. :3

[justagirlswrld]

Thousand year old, sexy, space princess seeks companionship! must be hot!

a/n: i told you i was a mark grayson groupie.

warnings: unprotected p in v. humanoid!reader. stuff that happens in sex happens in this. porn w plot.

part two

“….Mark, why is there a purple…guy outside your window?”, Mark doesn’t look up from the Seance dog comic at the sound of Will’s confused voice, choosing to roll his brown eyes instead.

“Yeah, funny.”, Mark replies in an airy tone.

“No, Mark i’m ser-”, Rick cuts his boyfriend off as he walks through the front door of the apartment, “Why is there a purple man outside of the living room window?”, This finally gets Mark’s attention, he looks over at the window in question and his eyes grow triple their size.

Mark is in his suit in less than a second, comic thrown onto the couch he was just relaxing on. He floats over to the window, taking in the short, stocky….lavender man that flies just outside the apartment on deep, amethyst wings.

Mark opens the window roughly and the man scampers back, he didn’t plan on hurting the creature but it seemed like someone always wanted to fight on his days off.

Mark flies out the large window, he dwarfs the…man easily. He has an uneasy smile on his face, Mark notices that his mouth is filled with long canines and he tries not to grimace. “I’m not helping any….fairies today. so, leave.” With that Mark turns his back on him, a strong hand grasps his shoulder. In an instant Mark is zooming into the afternoon sky, holding the lilac haired creature by the collar of his thin shirt.

His purple skin now has a slight gleam from his nervous sweat. “I’m not a fairy, I come from the planet-“, Mark cuts him off, “I don’t care. Now go.”, Mark releases the being and hovers in front of him but he doesn’t budge. Mark rubs a gloved hand down his face in frustration.

”Mark Gray-“, Mark cuts him off instantly, “My name is Invincible when i’m in this suit. What do you want?”

The alien nods, “Invincible, please. I haven’t come to harm you…my planet needs your help.” Mark groans inwardly, why was it always on his day off.

The mysterious man goes on to explain how another evil alien race has come to conquer his kingdom. He paints a picture of his beautiful world being annihilated and his people being slaughtered without Mark’s help. “I’ve left it in ruins, Invincible. I’m scared I may be the only Solorian left.”

Mark points to a near by patch of forest in exasperation, “Wait there.” He flies back inside without waiting to see if the creature followed his instructions.

With major convincing from Will and Rick, Mark ends up not ghosting the…Solorian waiting in the woods. When Mark floats down through the trees to the hard ground, he’s sitting on a log with a happy expression on his face.

“Where’s your planet?”, Mark’s tone is serious, he really wanted to be back in time to watch the newest episode of this show he’d been tuning into.

The thing stands, brushing the dirt from his odd pants. Mark notices that he’s dressed like a jester, save for the pointy hat.

“It’s many galaxies from Earth, it usually takes a year to get there,-“ Mark makes a sound as he begins to protest but the man continues talking as he pulls a small, metal disc from his pocket. “But with our technology it’ll only take a minute.”

He throws the disc on the ground with his knobby fingers and its turns into a circular pad. Mark and his traveling companion step on and become engulfed in a pale yellow light. Mark only has time to blink before he’s whisked away, landing on what he assumes to be cobblestone streets.

Mark surveys his surroundings as the man picks up his transporter. There’s winged humanoids dressed almost…medievally everywhere, no one lounges as the planet’s two suns beat down on their backs.

He watches as children with skin in arrays of colors play in the waterfall and clear, blue stream. He has to crane his neck to look at the behemoth of a castle in front of him.

“This doesn’t look like ruins.”, Mark’s eyes shift as he waits for assailants to pop out from behind the thatched roofed shacks that line the street.

“Because I lied to you invincible. Walk with me and i’ll explain.”

They glide towards the castle slowly, the man, Edolan, explains that their princess refuses to marry one of her arranged suitors after hearing of his exploits on earth. They go up winding stair cases before they stop in front of a room with large, oval doors. “She says she must….meet you, before she marries.”, Edolan explains with his hands held behind his back.

“You know you could’ve said that”, is all Mark can think to say in response. Edolan nods, “Yes, I apologize for deceiving you but I had to make it seem urgent in a way you’d understand.” Edolan waves a hand and the doors creek open, “The princess is waiting for you. When you’re finished she will give you passage home the same way you came.”

And he’s gone.

When Invincible glides into your expansive room you’re draped over your canopied bed, idly playing with some alien device.

Mark wasn’t sure what he’d be dealing with when he came through the doors but he damn sure wasn’t expecting you to be pretty…beautiful even. You’re as humanoid as the rest of your subjects save for the blush pink skin and hot pink hair.

You look up at the young man standing a few feet away from you. You lick your lips and Mark is happy to notice that your mouth isn’t filled with razor sharp teeth but human like ones instead.

“Mark Grayson of Earth!”, You greet him, cheeks stretched into a wide smile. Mark blushes as you rise from a lying position to a sitting one, noticing that your breasts are only covered in a thin, bralette of shiny jewels.

“Uh-Hi, you can just call me Mark.” You rise to stand on your bed now as you mimic someone fighting, “Or Invincible! Defender of Earth and slayer of beasts and villains.”

Mark wants to argue that he doesn’t slay villains but nods his head in agreement instead, trying to end this odd experience as soon as possible.

“Right….and you’re Y/N, Solorian princess who refuses to marry until you met me…,”Mark rips his mask off, exposing his handsome face to your eyes, “Will you marry the guy now?” Your eyebrows scrunch together and your lips form a pout. Mark thinks that it’s probably the sexiest expression he’s ever seen.

“That was not the agreement. I have yet to lay with you.”, You say from your place on the bed. If Mark had been drinking something he would’ve spit it out in astonishment.

“Lay with you?”, Mark asks in a shocked tone. You laugh at the expression on the boys face, if he pushes his eyebrows any higher they’ll be on the cathedral like ceilings of your room.

“Yes, Mark Grayson. The promise was that I would finally marry an arranged suitor, saving our planet from war, if you bedded me first.” You lay back down on your large mattress as you wait for the superhero to collect himself.

Mark swallows, he’s not sure if he’s turned on or scared. Probably both. “Um, don’t princesses have to be virgins when they get married?”, you cock your head to the side like a confused dog, “I’m not familiar with the word- virgins.” The word sounds jumbled when it passes your perfect lips.

“It means you never- laid with anyone. On Earth princesses usually save themselves for their husband or their virtue or something.”

You throw your head back and laugh loudly, it’s closer to a howl really. “What a sad life these Earth princesses live. As a Solorian we live for many, many years. I am 1,000 years old, just a baby I know-,“ Mark doesn’t reply as you continue, “And I would never be asked to be a…virkin. Solorian’s find virtue in other ways than saving yourself.” You almost look disgusted as you finish your rant.

Your mind goes back to the task at hand. You unclasp the jewels from your upper and bottom half, positioning yourself so Mark can see your naked body well. You watch as his strong throat bobs.

“Will you lay with me Mark Grayson?”

Mark feels like he might combust on the spot as he nods, more excited than he hoped. He walks to the edge of the bed and sits nervously, palming himself through his suit. “On Earth we usually go on a date first.” He laughs awkwardly, willing himself to get hard. He just couldn’t get out of his head to do so.

“We are not on Earth, Mark.” You slither up his back, breasts pressing against the hard muscles. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders as you press soft kisses to his neck. He groans but when he palms himself again there’s nothing. Mark is perplexed on why because you were super hot and he never had this problem before. It must be how weird the situation is.

You notice the mental battle and stop kissing his neck. “Are you well?”, he nods again and you notice him palming himself. You giggle, the sound so close to his ear that it has his heart speeding up again. “You can’t ‘get it up’? As they would say on Earth”, Mark’s torn between defending himself and asking where you learned that from but chooses silence instead when you slink between his legs.

You make yourself comfortable on your pink knees and look up at him through your lashes with big doe eyes. Mark has an instant semi.

He’s rock hard by the time you slip him out of his suit and into your warm mouth. You suck unabashedly on his thick, cock hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his angry tip.

“Shhhhiiiiiittt”, Mark moans with his hand tangled in your vibrant hair, hanging on for dear life as you bob up and down his member. “St-Stop i’m gonna-.” Mark trails off, his eyes almost roll back when you choke around his length, gobbling the throbbing cock down your throat.

He finally wrestles your mouth off his cock and he takes a moment to collect himself as he breathes heavily. Mark leans down and kisses you sloppily, he tweaks your nipples hoping that it’ll do something to stimulate you sexually. Luckily it works and you moan lowly in his mouth.

Mark picks you up by your arm pits and tosses you on the bed, you laugh, “Yes! Show me your strength, invincible.” His name is sultry as it falls out your lips, causing a shudder to creep down his spine.

He flips you over roughly by your ankle then pulls you to the edge of the large bed. Mark manhandles you until your face is pressed into your thick blankets with your round ass in the air. When Mark’s tongue pushes its way between your folds you’re a moaning mess.

Mark slowly licks from your wet cunt up to your puckered hole, repeating the motion over and over again. You close your eyes tightly as your moans fill the great space of your bedroom. He uses his skilled fingers to search for your clit, praying that Solorian’s have one. When he finally finds the nub he sucks on it harshly, causing you to cry out and fall on your stomach.

Mark lets out a huff behind you, voice raspy from his previous moaning, “If you want to lay with me princess, you have to keep your back arched.” You do as he says and he continues making a mess of you with his tongue, adding two, slender fingers into your pulsating heat.

When you feel Mark’s bulbous head rubbing against your tight entrance you release a sound akin to a purr. He pushes into you slowly, inch by veiny inch until his hips are flush against your backside.

You call out for him when he pulls out of you and he answers with a moan of his own when he pushes his length back into your tight walls. Mark starts at a slow rhythm that has you moaning with each pointed thrust, still you throw your ass back to meet each one.

Mark’s pace becomes brutal and you struggle to keep up with his pounding hips. One of his large hands slides up your back and wraps securely around your neck. His full lips leaving kisses in its wake. His other hand goes between your bodies to your engorged nub, rubbing slick circles as he continues to pound in and out of you.

Your toes curl so hard that you feel like they may break when Mark hits a deep, spongy spot in your cunt. You call out his name as you come, body going completely still then slumping to your stomach. Mark continues to fuck into your spent cunt, groans turning to moans. Mark pulls out and releases warm come on your lower back and ass cheek.

He lays on his back beside you, both of you two breathing too hard to say anything to one another.

When Mark walks through his apartment door Will is waiting for him, coffee cup in hand as the early morning light peaks through the bay window. Will’s eyes go wide when he takes in his best friend, “Mark! Where have you been? Do you realize you’ve been gone for three months?!”

Mark sits down at the granite island, smiling to himself as he begins to tell his best friend about the alien pussy he had to force himself to leave.

[liloinkoink]

one thing i think people get wrong about Martyn in the life series is he really isn’t loyal

like yeah, we all know him as the Hand, following the Red King as far as their shared grave, but that is… truly the outlier and not the norm with him

i mean, let’s take a brief look at other seasons. i can’t speak to Secret Life, as it came out when i was incredibly busy and i haven’t yet had time to watch it, but what about the others?

he won Limited Life because he’s a chronic traitor! he betrayed Scott, his ally for the whole season, so that he could win, and said he’d been planning it / wanting to do it the whole session. spent a whole season protecting and helping Scott, and laughed in his face to betray as soon as he saw a shot to do so

Double Life was a whole mess of Martyn and weird loyalties. just one example: he spent all of the first session hanging out with Pearl in favor of even looking for either of their soulmates, with no regard for how he’d been putting his soulmate in danger. when their soulmates dumped them due to being ignored all session and stormed off, he dumped Pearl just because. one session in and he’s betrayed both his soulmate and his day one alliance!

Last Life he teamed with the Southlanders and then made the Shadow Alliance in secret, so he was on two teams and never truly committed to either. he tried to kill Grian basically immediately when he got boogeyman, for example, and in the final fight he tried to lure Ren to himself by offering to team and then tried to blow Ren up

of course, i’m simplifying and ignoring a lot. he doesn’t earn the loyal reputation for nothing. he does a lot of things to help his teammates, like giving a life to Ren in Last Life, trying all season to win Cleo over for all of Double Life, or working to protect Scott for all of Limited Life. it’s not like Martyn doesn’t play the part of a loyal friend well, but, well.

the thing about Martyn is that he’s selfish. he’s basically always going to prioritize his own survival over anything else. he’s never going to roll over and die, especially not for another person. he’s good at looking loyal, because having allies will help you survive, and he knows making outright enemies is a bad idea. he knows he can’t make it obvious he’s a traitor, because then he’ll certainly be killed. but, when it comes down to the wire, he will generally bail at the last minute to save his own skin rather than protecting the people around him. when his loyalty is tested, nine times out of ten, he will not only fail, but do so completely without remorse

it doesnt take a lot to become Martyn’s ally, and once you’ve got a foot in the door, he will take his allegiances seriously (at least, to a point). but it takes effort to really earn Martyn’s trust. and, even when it looks like you have, there’s no guarantee he won’t yank the rug out from under you if he decides having you alive is more detrimental to his survival than seeing you dead

and yes, you can especially see all of this in Third Life. Martyn was absolutely not instantly ride or die for Ren—for a lot of the earlier episodes, he won’t say he’s on Ren’s team or that he lives at Ren’s base, and often tells other players he’s simply Ren’s employee rather than teammate and that he’s wandering or homeless. he trusts Ren so little due to Ren’s inability to keep a secret or stand up for himself that even Ren acknowledges in the third session that Martyn is probably going to leave him and find someone else. Martyn’s loyalty had to be earned, and it very nearly wasn’t. if Ren had taken a session more to grow a spine, Martyn probably would have left

but Ren became an ally that Martyn could rely on, who could stand up for himself and keep secrets. it became more beneficial to Martyn’s survival to have Ren around, so he stayed with Ren for the rest of the season, and committed hard to their kingdom. Ren earns Martyn’s trust by becoming a more dependable ally, and because of that, Ren earns Martyn’s loyalty…. probably

(half related, bc i want it in the post and i don’t know where to put it: after the execution, two sessions after Ren officially earns Martyn’s loyalty, Ren admits to being genuinely convinced Martyn was going to take him out of the series as soon as Ren gave him the chance!)

because yes, even here, even after Ren earns his trust and Ren trusts Martyn to execute him and they become King and Hand, Martyn was okay with killing Ren to save himself. Martyn has said he was going to betray Ren in the final session of Third Life. his entire plan was that when he and Ren hit the final 5, he was going to kill Ren. end Red Winter, usher in Red Spring. even the most loyal version of Martyn was a traitor!

now, you can decide for yourself if you believe he could have actually gone through with this—he and Ren were 6th and 7th out of the game, after all. maybe he wouldn’t have been able to steel himself. maybe his loyalty would have, for once, been too strong to kill Ren.

but it’s very possible that even the most loyal version of Martyn—the version of Martyn who has created this “loyal” image of Martyn in fanon—was only loyal because he died too soon to show his true colors

[reidswhre]

on your shoulder; spencer reid x fem!reader

sumamary: based on the episode of "the office" where pam falls asleep on jim's shoulder!

warnings: pure fluff!! early seasons spencer!

a/n: just a lil reminder that my request are open! you can go and send me some 🫶🏼 also english isn’t my first language, let me know any mistakes.

You loved Aaron Hotchner, no doubt he was an amazing boss, and you had no complaints about him. The problem started when he organized those... little meetings, which, well, could be kind of boring.

And honestly, you hadn’t been sleeping well these last few days either. There was a lot of paperwork left from the cases that had to be dealt with immediately, which didn’t really help your sleep schedule.

Right now, Hotch was giving a talk about... hmm, you weren’t sure. Maybe about victimology or something like that, but you were way too tired to pay attention.

“Hey, you okay?” A voice came from your left, it was Spencer sitting beside you.

“What? Yeah, yeah, of course,” you yawned. “I just haven’t slept well.”

“I figured. You should try to get some rest, not sleeping decreases your attention, concentration, and memory. Plus, it lowers your work performance. It can even cause anxiety or depression,” Reid explained.

Your eyes opened wide. “What?! Depression?! Spencer, no way. I’ve just stayed up late a few nights, I’m fine.” You chuckled and leaned back in your chair, almost looking like you were going to fall out of it.

“It’s okay,” he said, watching you.

He used to take his time watching you, not in a creepy way, at least he hoped not. It was more like you sparked his curiosity, he thought you were really pretty.

He saw you fighting to keep your eyes open, which you were definitely losing. Your eyes were closing, your lashes falling down, and your cheeks had a lovely blush to them that you probably added this morning. You looked beautiful.

Spencer felt your head drop onto his shoulder, and he immediately tensed up. The scent of your shampoo hit his nose, it smelled fresh and sweet, just like you.

He relaxed a little, letting you rest for the remaining part of Hotch’s magnificent meeting.

You opened your eyes after a while, feeling a bit lost. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” You lifted your head when you realized it had been resting on Spencer.

“Don’t worry about it, it didn’t bother me.” He gave you a small smile, the kind where he kept his lips closed.

You looked around and realized no one else was in the room except for the two of you. “Where is everyone?” you asked Spencer, confused.

“They, uh... well, they left,” he said, looking away. “The meeting ended.”

You gasped in surprise. “What? How long ago?”

“Not long... maybe half an hour,” he said, finally looking at you.

“Half an hour?! Spencer, why didn’t you wake me up?” You could feel the embarrassment filling every inch of your body. You had been asleep on him for more than half an hour?!

“I... well, you—” He stumbled over his words. “You looked comfortable and... you needed the rest, I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me? I was bothering you! I’m so sorry, seriously.” You were too embarrassed to think straight.

“What? No, no, really, it wasn’t a bother at all, never would be.” He gave you a sincere look.

You smiled at this; he was always pretty sweet with you. “Thanks, really.”

He gave you a small smile in response.

“So...” You glanced around the empty room. “What did I miss?”

“You should’ve paid attention,” Spencer teased.

“Very funny, huh?” You rolled your eyes.

Spencer looked at you, and honestly, he loved the idea of having you this close all the time.

[astraljedi]

I can't find a pulse My heart won't start anymore (Frank Castle Imagine)

Request: Did you watch DDBA season finale? I need a scene where reader arrives in the car with Karen after Matt and Frank jump from the apartment. Maybe since Matt calls shotgun, reader sits in the back with Frank and the last time they saw each other they hooked up

Pairing: Frank Castle x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of blood, open wounds, cursing, smutty flashback scenes, this does not have a happy ending (sorry)

Word Count: 4.3K

Song: You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift

a/n: I started writing this and suddenly my direction for it change completely, oops. This is loosely based on DDBA Episode 9, but I ended up changing the ending (because this is fanfiction and I can).

- I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier Fighting in only your army Frontlines, don't you ignore me

Courtesy of the city-wide blackout, darkness swallows up my quiet apartment. I fumble through my storage closet, the weak flashlight from my phone barely illuminating anything as I try to find the battery-powered candles I know I stashed somewhere.

“Fuck this,” I groan, dropping to the cold floor with a thud, my back hitting the hallway wall. Just as I start contemplating whether I could survive the night in complete darkness, my phone vibrates. “Karen” flashes across the screen.

 I bring the phone up to my ear. “Hi, gorgeous,” I answer.

“Are you home? I’m on my way to pick you up,” Karen says quickly. I hear her curse, followed by a sharp blast of her car horn. I wince and pull the phone away from my ear.

“Yea—”

“It’s urgent. I’m four minutes away,” she cuts in. “It’s Matt. He needs us.”

The second she says his name, I’m on my feet. I grab my things and dash out of the apartment, I place the call on speaker and use my flashlight to guide myself down the flight of stairs

“Two minutes,” Karen says through the call, keeping me posted. 

“I’m outside,” Out of breath I step onto the chaotic street. Helicopters roar over the city, car horns blare from every direction. I hear people screaming, smashing car windows and I beg for Karen to pull up soon before the chaos reaches me.

Karen pulls up fast and hard, tires screeching seconds later and I sprint to the passenger side, barely managing to close the door before she slams her foot on the gas. 

“Where is he?” I ask, panic clear in my voice.

“His apartment.”

“What? I thought he was in the hospital.” I glance at her, my gut twisting. The blackout’s only made the streets worse, but we’re not far.

“I’ll explain later.” Karen’s eyes are fixed on the road, but I can tell she’s hiding something. She’s fighting her hardest to keep her lips sealed, her brows furrowing together. 

I narrow my eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” she adds.

“Just spit it out, Karen.” I demand. 

“It’s also Frank,” she sighs, not able to keep it in for long. 

My stomach drops. I stare at her, not saying a word. 

Frank.

I haven’t seen him since the night we were tangled in my bed sheets. Our never ending cycle fueling the tiny spark that was left. 

I thought I’d finally tamed the spark, but Frank Castle doesn’t let you put out the flames. He is the fire. The oxygen. The thing that keeps it alive, even when he doesn't even try. 

He will alway try to push me away but the flame always remains. 

Frank is the man who picks up the broken pieces of my heart. He builds it up, structures the pieces perfectly for him to smash it back to pieces like a sandcastle he worked so hard on building. He always leaves, and I’m always the one left behind, stupidly clutching to his empty words and promises. 

“What?” I whisper, leaning my head against the headrest, my chest already pounding. Just hearing his name sets everything inside me on fire.

Karen parts her lips like she wants to say more, but an explosion goes off—loud and nearby. I grab her free hand, our minds in sync.

Please let them be okay, I beg—whether to God or the universe, I don’t know.

We turn the corner and spot Matt and Frank in the street. Karen and I both sigh, out of relief at the sight of them. I exhale shakily as Karen and I step out of the car. I crunch down on shattered glass, our eyes rising to Matt’s apartment in flames.

“Get in,” Karen orders, her voice calm but I know the adrenaline is rushing through her body. Just like mine. 

“Shotgun,” Matt mutters, wincing as he holds his side.

I walk up to Matt, letting him lean on me. I don’t acknowledge Frank at first, my eyes stay fixed on the floor while walking to the car. I guide Matt into the passenger seat, the blood from his injuries smudging my fingers. When I turn around, Frank’s already holding the back door open, waiting for me. 

He doesn’t say anything, his lips tightly shut. I glance up at him and I regret instantly. His dark unreadable eyes tracking every move.

I slide in without a word, pressing myself against the opposite side of the car. He gets in after me, knees spread, taking up space like he always does. His knee brushes mine, and I pretend not to notice—even when Karen hits a pothole and the jolt makes our skin connect again. That same electricity sparks and settles beneath my skin.

The silence is loud. The chaos of the city seeps in through the windows—sirens, shouting, the distant rumble of helicopters. 

I keep my gaze on the window, but I can feel his eyes still on me. I sit stiffly, forcing slow breaths through my nose, trying to calm the tremble in my hands. I place them gently on my thighs, hoping that they stop before I make a fool out of myself. 

But my heart resists to calm down, each beat slamming relentlessly against my chest like it's about to jump out.  

Frank’s safehouse is a mess—guns on the table, loose bullets in trays, knives stacked beside open boxes, and God knows how many other weapons scattered everywhere. The scent of him hits me the moment I step in—smoke and leather. A scent I’ve spent time scrubbing off me and my apartment. 

Matt and Karen sit on the other side of the room, sitting on some foldable chairs while she focuses on cleaning the wound on Matt’s chest gently.

Across from them, Frank rips a suture kit open with his teeth and pulls the neck of his shirt to study the open wound.

“Let me help,” I say quietly, my voice softer than before—calmer, somehow. Maybe because I’m too exhausted to keep up with our game. 

Or maybe because looking at him bloody and bruised—pulls all the fight out of me.

He doesn’t hesitate, he leans back on the chair and hands me the already-threaded needle. At this point in our relationship—if we can even call it that—he trusts me enough to stitch him up. 

This is something I’ve done for years now, always looking after him. Countless late nights of him limping into my apartment bleeding. Only for me to panic and lecture him while guiding him to the couch. 

“That’s it,” he says, watching me patch the torn-up skin on his hip. My eyes are wide, focused, like I’m trying to memorize how to breathe through it. “You’re a natural, sweetheart.”

His praise settles something wild in my chest. I try to breathe steady, but my hands are trembling.

When I finish the last stitch, I finally let out the breath I didn’t even know I was holding. His hand moves to my face, fingers warm against my skin as he cups my cheek. His thumb brushes over my jaw, softly.

“Next time, you’re gonna be a pro,” he murmurs, then leans in and presses a kiss—gentle, lingering—on the corner of my mouth.

I chuckle, shaking my head like I’m not spiraling on the inside. “Don’t make it a habit.”

A sharp groan from Frank snaps me back. I press the cloth against his injury—harder than I need to but I don’t apologize. 

Frank Castle can feel pain after all.

My eyes stay glued to the wound, watching the thread slip through the torn skin. 

But I don’t look at him, I remind myself that this is still the man who left before dawn. No explanation with no goodbye. Too cowardly to call it off for once and for all for both our sakes.

From across the room, I hear Karen’s voice, low and comforting as she murmurs to Matt. The sound of the needle moving through Frank’s skin mixes with the buzz of a police radio filling the silence.

Then Matt’s voice cuts in. “You called Frank, huh?”

Karen hesitates. “I heard Poindexter escaped. Called Frank and hopped on a plane.”

“What about her?” Matt adds.

My hand stills for a second, eyes flicking toward them. They don’t notice, but Frank shifts beside me. He’s listening, too.

Karen mumbles something I can’t make out—but Frank hears it, his body stiffening from her answer.

I tie the final knot with more force than necessary and pull the last stitch tight. Frank winces, his hand shooting out to grab my arm on reflex. I hold the cloth to his skin one last time and then set the needle and thread down on the table. It’s his mess to clean up. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Frank says, voice low and rough.

Karen looks over. “Everything okay over there?”

Frank sighs. “Never been better.” He gets up, brushing past me—his knuckles graze my thigh longing for something he won’t let himself indulge in.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard, chewing my words down.

He moves to the small kitchen, grabs a pill bottle and crunches a few of them in his mouth. “Who wants a cup of coffee?”

“Got any oat milk?” Matt stands up, already half-dressed in his suit.

Frank chuckles and hands us a cup of black coffee—no milk, no sugar. Bitter and hot. 

I take a sip and move to stand next to Karen. 

“So… he went after Matt Murdock. Not Daredevil,” she says finally. “That’s bold. Even for Fisk.”

Matt hesitates. “Listen to me. Turns out it was a hit…” He swallows hard. “On Foggy.”

“Holy shit,” Karen and I say at the same time.

“Vanessa Fisk hired Poindexter to take him out.”

Karen’s already fighting tears. “Why?”

“I think there’s something in the motion he was about to file,” Matt explains, jaw clenched. “He was moving to dismiss the case,and Vanessa made sure he never got to it. I think maybe I missed something back then.”

I drain the rest of my coffee and set the empty cup on a cluttered spot on the counter. “Aren’t the files in storage?”

“That’s right,” Matt says. “Can you guys be my eyes?”

“Always,” Karen answers without hesitation.

They start gathering their things, barely saying another word. I do the same—sling my bag over my shoulder, but my feet won’t move.

I look at Frank at his little workstation, gathering his gear and loading bullets quietly. 

“You coming, Frank?” Karen asks.

“Got shit to do,” he mutters, not looking up.

Matt tries to warn him—Fisk is coming, and it’s only a matter of time. But Frank doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t respond. Just keeps loading his gun.

Eventually, they give up. Karen grabs what’s left and heads for the door and Matt follows her. 

But I stay, feet glued to the ground.

“Don’t do it, Frank,” I say. My voice is raspier than I expect.

He doesn’t look at me. “It’s not up for debate.”

The lump in my throat that I’ve been choking down all night finally rises.

“Just like how you left me that night?” I snap. “You fuck me, then disappear without a word—like I was just a little plaything for you to use and throw away.”

His dark and emotionless eyes finally lift to mine, studying me while the words weighed heavy on his tongue. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’m not the guy you created in your pretty little head.”

My lips part, in disbelief. His words tear through me—and suddenly I’m the one who needs stitching.

His words echo in my head and I laugh bitterly in disbelief while I walk towards the door. I throw it open and slam it behind me, the metal frame rattling loud and harsh.

I don’t even hear it.

“…Stay safe,” Frank mutters behind the door, shaking his head.

He had to do it, he had to break me. 

My fist clench on my side and I see Matt and Karen standing at the end of the hallway. But neither of them dare say a word. Karen won’t meet my eyes, and Matt’s trying his hardest not to say something I’m not ready to hear.

And I try not to think about how Matt could probably hear my heart shatter the moment Frank said those words. I walk past them without looking back. Because if I look at them—if I let Karen’s pitying eyes find mine—I’ll break.

The storage unit is dark, only the light from the moon through the window and our flashlights hellp us look over the unit. I should be focused on combing through the files, looking for Foggy’s motion that has to be somewhere in these dusty boxes. But my mind keeps wandering—lingering somewhere else. To someone else.

His fingers slip downwards, getting coated by my juices instantly. “My poor thing, no one knows how to please you like I do.” “Frank,” I whimper, as his fingers circle my clit.

“You okay?”

Matt’s voice is low, careful—just barely louder than the rustling of paper and thuds of boxes being shifted around. Karen keeps her eyes fixed on a file, but I can tell she’s listening now too, her ears perk up. “Your heart is drumming hard again.” 

I blink, and glance up at Matt. His head’s tilted slightly, something he does when he’s focusing on the sounds around him.

“Again?” I give up on the file in my hand and shove it back into the box. Some old tax thing. Not what we need.

“It spiked when you were fighting,” he says softly. “And also now.”

Karen looks over from her corner and raises an eyebrow. “God, that is really not fair,” she mutters under her breath.

I try to act normal, like he didn’t just read me to filth—but my hands betray me. A box slips through my grasp and slams on the floor.

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“You heard his too?” Karen asks, pointing her flashlight to another box.

“Oh yeah,” Matt says calmly. I swallow hard and crouch down to gather the scattered files off the floor.

“I’m sure it was the adrenaline,” I offer, trying to sound collected. But my voice comes out higher and a little too defensive.

Matt backs down and doesn’t argue back.  He just goes back to his box. 

“Hey, this is it.” Karen strains a bit as she pulls out a heavy box from one of the shelves. “A year and a half ago.” The box thuds when she sets it down.

“Here, let me help,” I offer, grabbing the flashlight from her and holding it steady so she can see.

“Yes! Okay, here’s the motion Foggy filed,” she says, pulling out a thick manila file.

“Good work, Karen Page,” Matt praises, stepping closer.

Karen flips it open. “Foggy was going to argue that…” She trails off, eyes skimming the page. “Whoa.”

She keeps reading. “Due to the unique nature of the Red Hook Port Location, no crime was committed in New York state or even the United States of America. Therefore, the court has no jurisdiction to prosecute.”

“What?” Matt’s brows pinch. 

“There’s a photocopy,” I say, reaching over to pull out the paper that’s halfway slipping from underneath. “Red Hook Charter, 1855. Holy crap. It’s a free port.”

“Exempt from the jurisdiction of the city,” Matt mutters. “and the country for that matter.”

“What would that have to do with the Fisks?” Karen asks, looking at Matt.

Matt exhales, slow and heavy. “Vanessa has used the port to store art for years now. I mean, if it’s a free port, she’s doing it without customs, without taxation, without fear of seizure.”

“She could launder money legally,” Karen says, stunned.

“Wow. That sneaky motherfucker,” I mutter under my breath.

Matt nods, voice low. “This is about the Fisks building their own city-state.”

Karen starts closing the files carefully. I reach for my bag, tossing it over my shoulder as I grab my flashlight.

“Let’s go see what they’re hiding,” Matt says, already halfway to the door.

When Karen drops me off, the street is calmer than last night from the havoc that broke out from the blackout. My neighbors and the local store owners are out sweeping debris, the air thick with tension from the mayor’s call for martial law.

I unlock my apartment, and the pale pink glow of sunrise pours through the windows like none of last night even happened. Like we didn’t just unravel the reason Foggy was targeted twelve hours ago. 

I peel off my jacket, kick off my shoes, and head straight for the kitchen. I’m too tired to think, too wired to crash. I just need something in my stomach before my head crashes on my pillow for the rest of the day. Sleep feels like the only escape I’ve got, the only way to try and push Frank’s voice out of my head.

I reach up to grab a cereal box and a bowl, the perfect lazy breakfast. I open the fridge and grab the milk carton, but the second I shut the door, a voice startles me.

“Got some coffee, sweetheart?”

I spin around so fast the room tilts and the carton slips from my hand, crashing to the floor. The cold liquid flooding the tiles around my feet. 

Frank is on the floor, bloody and horribly beaten.

He’s slumped against the wall, one hand pressed over his ribs, clearly in pain—but still somehow smirking through the mess of his split lip and bruised face like nothing.

“Frank,” I breathe, the mess forgotten as I drop to my knees beside him. My hands hover, desperate to help but terrified of hurting him more. “Why are you on the floor?”

“I didn’t want to ruin your couch,” he mutters.

A strangled laugh escapes me. “Now I have to get rid of this rug.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay. I got it for cheap at a thrift shop.” I shrug, I need a new rug anyways. 

“No.” He shakes his head, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter. I start to stand, to look for the first aid kit, but he catches my wrist before I can move away.

“You’re not a plaything,” he says. “You’re more to me than what I can express.”

I freeze, but I don’t pull away from his grasp. “Can we not do this right now?” I swallow back a sob, looking away from him. 

“I didn’t mean it. You know me.”

“Do I?” I say, raising my voice. “Because sometimes, for a second, I think maybe this is it. Maybe he’s finally giving me his all. And then you’re gone before I even realize what’s happening.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Come on,” I say, wrapping his arm over my shoulder, bracing myself under his weight. “Let’s get you up.”

He stumbles, groaning with every movement, but I manage to carry him to the bathroom. I push the door open with my shoulder and ease him down onto the wooden stool by the tub. My hands are trembling as I twist the faucet, waiting for the water to heat up—warm enough to soothe his muscles.

The silence in the room hangs heavy between us, but his eyes stay on me, tracking every step I take.

I kneel in front of him and grab the scissors. There’s no way I’m asking him to lift his arms, not with the state he’s in. I cut through his shirt carefully, revealing a mess of bruises and cuts that make my stomach twist.

“Jesus, Frank,” I murmur.

I reach for the first aid kit, my hands moving on quickly. I start with the dried blood on his chest, cleaning each wound slowly. He winces under my touch, but I try my best to be gentle and not cause him any more pain. 

When I finish, I rise and step between his legs. I lift his chin, tilting his face toward the light. My fingers graze his swollen lip, his scraped cheekbones. His hands settle on my hips, holding on as I clean him up. 

Once I’m done, I help him to his feet, bracing him again as I unbuckle his belt. My eyes flick up to his. “This okay?” I ask, and he nods.

I undress him carefully, and help him into the tub. He sinks into the water with a grunt, letting it pull the weight from his bones. His eyes fall closed as his back hits the cold wall, and I sit at the edge of the tub, dipping the sponge into the warm water before running it slowly over his shoulders.

The water clouds pink with leftover blood, and my hand moves to his chest—his heartbeat steady beneath my touch. The same place I used to lay my head. The same place that used to make me feel safe, but I don't know if that place is meant for me anymore. 

I let my fingers linger, the sponge discarded to the side and forgotten. My hands move slower, softer, over the places I used to kiss him and never get tired of.

And just for a moment, I let myself feel it all. The weight of everything I’ve been carrying. The ache that never really goes away. The sharp sting of anger and heartbreak. And the love I try so hard for him to accept, to let me in all the way. 

Tears slip down my cheeks. I try to hide it, keep my sniffles quiet, but he notices. 

His eyes open, and his hand comes up to wipe my tears away. I lean into his touch, even though part of me wants to push it away.

“Talk to me,” he says.

“I didn’t think we would find ourselves like this again,” I admit.

“I thought you wouldn’t let me in,” he replies, his voice rough.

“That’s never been the problem. That’s why we keep ending up here, stuck in this cycle.” I pull away from his touch, but he grabs my hand before I can go far, squeezing it tightly. “I’m just tired of this, Frank.”

He doesn’t interrupt. He just listens.

“I don’t care about flowers or fancy dinners or anniversary gifts. That’s not what I want. I want mornings and nights with you. I want the little things—the moments when I’m trying to pick a fight with you because I’m being a brat and stubborn, and you diffuse the bomb with a kiss or a joke or by just… being the version you only let me see.”

His mouth tugs up in the corner, a soft and familiar smile. 

“You love flowers,” he says, and it makes me laugh through the tears. “Don’t try to act like you don’t,” he adds with a low chuckle, wincing as it pulls on his ribs.

“I do,” I admit, then pause. “But I love—” The words catch in my throat, and I look away again. “I need to know you won’t leave. That you won’t shut me out. I need you to fight for me the way I keep fighting for you.”

I don’t wait for his reply. I stand up from the tub, my fingers slipping from his hand. I grab a towel and help him stand slowly, carefully, easing him out of the tub. I hand him the towel and step out of the bathroom, needing a little space—just a few seconds to breathe before the weight of everything drags me under again.

In my room, I pull the bedsheets down and place a change of clothes at the end of the bed. One of his old t-shirts, the soft one that somehow still smells like him, and the sweatpants I stole from him and refuse to give back.

When he walks in, towel slung low on his hips, my storm-filled eyes meet his. His gaze locked on me as he grabs the sweatpants and carefully slides them on. I step closer, press my hands gently to his chest, and push him to sit on the edge of the bed. I grab the t-shirt and help him pull it over his head, mindful of the fresh stitches on his shoulder.

Do something, babe. Say something. Lose something, babe, risk something. Choose something, babe, I got nothing 

“Get some rest,” I murmur, helping him ease down into the mattress.

“Baby—” His hand catches my wrist before I can walk away. His grip is loose, but it stops me in my tracks. “I can try. But you have to be patient with me.”

I swallow hard, blinking up at the ceiling before I meet his eyes again. “I’ve been patient all this time, Frank,” I say quietly. “For years I’ve been the one picking up after us. Looking after you when you’re hurt—even when you hurt me first. I need you to do more than try”

“There’s things I have to work out and fix first,” he mutters.

“This is what I’m saying,” I breathe. “You always have something first. There’s always something before me.” I force the lump in my throat down, even though it burns.

He hesitates, but he lets my hand go.

“I’m never going to be your first choice, Frank. This was meant to fail and break from the beginning.”

My voice betrays me while I try to fight back the tears. I hate it—how it makes me sound like I’m begging. When I’m already done with trying and fighting for something that keeps bruising me.

Still, I pull the blanket over his chest, and I lean down and press a kiss to his forehead, maybe for the last time.

Then I turn and walk toward the door. “Good night, Frank.”

I can't find a pulseMy heart won't start anymore

[readerihardlyknowher]

A Loving Feeling | Pt. 2

This one's extra long because I couldn't find a good stopping point. Probably ooc at this point.

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: None WC: 4,675 Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt. 3

“Guys, we’re back. It’s another game of Don’t Win Mario Party. Today we’ve brought our favorite guest on,” Trevor begins, before gesturing to you. You look into the camera and wave.

“Yeah, it’s nice to be here. And it’s finally nice to be in a video with my good friend Spencer. I swear, he’s avoided being seen with me up until now,” you say, throwing a jab at Spencer, who’s sitting right to the left of you on the couch, but it’s all in good fun.

“Yeah, I was, and you’ve ruined my streak,” he says, jesting back at you. You snicker and bump him with your shoulder as the pre-game chatter continues. Shayne – while wearing a cone – eventually briefly runs over the rules with you, as you haven’t yet played, and then you all boot up the game to play. The character you’re playing as is Yoshi in this game, and when it starts out, you’re immediately in first place, since all other guys on the couch have played before, so they know what to do.

As the game continues though, you slowly move your way down until you’re in third place. All this time, Spencer beside you has slowly but surely moved his way closer to you, until your thighs are pressing together. You hadn’t realized it until you noticed how much warmer you now feel until you see that you as well had moved closer to him subconsciously. The thought makes you smile a little, the fact that you two have become so close physically and in your friendship. In just under a month, you’ve gone from essentially strangers to close friends. You can’t think of the last time you’ve had a friendship with a guy where you could get this close without him being all weird about it, so Spencer has been such a welcoming relief.

Eventually, the game nears its end, and with that your energy from the beginning of the game has begun to fade out. While Shayne and Trevor have a small minigame against each other, you look down at your controller, before Spencer’s tattoos catch your eyes. Spencer, noticing your starting, silently pulls up his sleeve some more, lifts his arm up, and watches you as you look at his tattoos closer. You grab his arm to hold it still, the other hand tracing over his tattoos, pausing once you see his Whomp one. You do a fake shocked face, point to the tattoo, then to the screen. He makes the same face, which makes you laugh, with him immediately following.

“What are you guys doing over there?” Shayne asks, not taking his eyes off the screen. You laugh again and let go of Spencer’s arm, but he doesn’t roll up his sleeve. 

“Nothing, nothing” you reply.

“Yeah, just looking at my Whomp, like a good friend. You guys never look at my Whomp…” Spencer says, a fake sad tone to his voice, which makes Shayne and Trevor roll their eyes. 

The game plays on, and before you know it, it’s the final round. You had completely forgotten the points and what place you were in before, so in that moment, you feel like it must be neck and neck. You all play a minigame and tie for last, all of you immediately dying the instant it begins, which leads to the announcement of the places. In last place is Trevor, who successfully flew under the radar for most of the game. In 3rd is you. 2nd manages to be taken by Shayne, which means that the winner/loser of this Don’t Win episode is Spencer, whose mouth is hanging open in shock.

“Are you serious right now? I swear to god I did not win that. There’s no way,” he complains, a smile still on his face as Trevor and Shayne mock him a little. You’re laughing alongside them, ruffling his hair lightly as a teasing gesture.

“It’s what you get for being so cocky at the beginning,” you say, which makes him turn and glare at you, before bringing both of his hands to mess with your hair now. “Hey! Quit being a sore loser!”

“Okay, Spencer’s now bullying Y/n,” Shayne says to the camera. You manage to push Spencer off of you enough to begin fixing your hair with a scowl. “Okay guys, and I think with that we’re gonna end this episode. Thank you all so much for watching and we’ll see you next time!”

_________________________________________

Saturday, June 19th arrives and it’s finally time for Courtney’s party. You, meanwhile, are in your apartment, freshening up for the night while waiting for Spencer to arrive. You can’t seem to stop your eyes from continuously glancing down at your phone, checking for his text every few seconds. The outfit you’re wearing isn’t anything too fancy, it’s Courtney and Shayne’s place, not a fancy restaurant, but still, you put a bit more effort into your outfit tonight than you normally would when going to see your friends. It’s a birthday party after all, nothing to scoff at.

You hear a ding from your phone and look down, expecting to see Spencer’s name, but instead open it to see Courtney’s. Opening up the text, you see she’s sent you yet another TikTok of you and Spencer in the last two episodes you were in together. This one has compiled when you were playing Don’t Win Mario Party together, and it’s just when you played with his tattoos and when you both messed up each other’s hair, with the caption “omg they can’t stop touching each other #y/s/n #smoshships” You roll your eyes at the video and turn off your phone.

Immediately once you do so, it vibrates in your hand, you glance down to see Spencer’s text of arrival before walking to the door, waiting a couple extra seconds as to not seem like you were waiting. You walk up to his car and he opens the passenger side door from his side, where you slide in and take in the comforting smell. He looks over at you, looks back to the road, before back to you again, this time fully taking in your outfit.

“Hey, you look nice,” he says casually, which casually makes your chest clench for some unknown reason. You smile and look at him; he looks how he normally does, but his hair seems to be well groomed today.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, handsome,” you reply mostly in a joking manner. You knew he was hot, everyone did. He had that energy of a guy you may not realize is hot at first until you realize he is one day and now suddenly can’t unsee it. There’s a reason why everyone at Smosh has a lowkey crush on him. It’s normal, nothing weird about it, and he knows it’s fine. Your thoughts are pulled from you as he starts pulling onto the road and begins driving. It’s quiet for a moment before you decide to speak.

“Do you think she’s gonna like our gifts?” You ask, referring back to the other day when you both went shopping for her. He glances at you for a moment with a cocky smirk.

“She better. I know we got the best gifts for her that she’s getting tonight,” he replies, fairly certain that he knows his friend. Besides, you were there to pick things out with him, it’s not like you’d pick the wrong thing. “I hope we play Cards Against Humanity again, last time was so fun.” You smile at this, remembering how a couple months ago for the last hangout you all played Cards Against Humanity.

“God, so fun. I would have won too if you hadn’t kept that one card in your hand until the very end.”

“I knew I had to save ‘my gay best friend’ for when the time called for it.”

“This time, Spence, this time I’ll wipe the floor with you.”

He laughs at your words before once more the car falls into a comfortable silence. It doesn’t take long to get to Courtney and Shayne’s place, and once you head inside with the bagged gifts in hand, you see most of your co-workers and some of Courtney’s personal friends are here. You set the bags down where you see some others are put before you go to speak to the birthday girl.

“Happy birthday, Courney!” You say, making her turn around and squeal when she sees you, pulling you into a hug. She sees Spencer behind you and pulls him into the hug as well, making the two of you squished up against each other.

“Oh my god, just in time! Amanda suggested we pull out Cards Against Humanity for a good rematch,” they say, energy so high. “There’s some alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks over there, and yes, they’re labeled. I think Chanse and Angela are both on their way now. In the meantime though, grab a drink and let’s play!”

And with that, Courtney is gone, disappearing to go hang out with the others. You glance back at Spencer, who has a sort of awkward smile. Even though it’s not going to be some sort of crazy party, you know he can get a little nervous when there’s a ton of people all put together, especially since he doesn’t know all of Court’s friends particularly well. Deciding to try and ease his nerves a little, you speak.

“I’m gonna grab a drink, want anything?” You ask, walking over to the kitchen counter where some premade drinks and some bottles are to make your own. You look down at the post-its under each set of drinks and pick the one you think looks the best for you. You feel Spencer walk up beside you and look down at the drinks as well, finding a non-alcoholic drink for the night.

“I think I’ll stick with this. Don’t want to get too crazy tonight,” he says, a small smile on his face. You snicker and turn your head, seeing the tension in his body beginning to fade little by little. For a moment, you consider saying anything more, but before you can find any words, the door opens and Chanse makes his appearance, Angela coming in a couple seconds after. Perfect timing.

You both walk over and have a quick chat with the two of them, mainly about how the roads were so empty tonight, thank god. After a moment of chit-chat, Courtney calls everyone into the living room where there’s some extra seats pulled up to play Cards Against Humanity.

Both you and Spencer take a seat on a loveseat, and you settle in with your drinks and cards, ready to play. At the beginning, it feels a little weird to be playing a game without having to perform for a camera during it, since the last time you’ve played board games off camera was months ago the last time you played CAH. Still though, it doesn’t take long for you to get into the groove of just playing with friends.

A few rounds in and so far, Shayne and Spencer are tied for the most rounds won so far, which is two. You would be fired up with the competitive spirit, but from sipping your drink throughout the game, and even getting up for a refill, you’re lightly buzzed and just enjoying the game itself and having fun, not worried about winning at this very moment. The next round begins with Shayne reading out the card, “What made my first kiss so awkward?” You look through your deck before pulling out a card that makes you snicker, placing it in the pile on the coffee table in front of you. When you lean back in the seat now, you feel what seems like an arm on the back of the seat around where your shoulders are. Glancing over, you see Spencer has now wrapped his arm around the back of the seat. He looks at you with a smirk, before revealing the card he intends to play. You lean in to look, chuckling at the card before he leans forward and puts his card into the pile as well, before once again bringing his arm around the back of the seat.

You watch as Shayne reads out the white cards, but your eyes catch Courtney’s, which are excitedly eyeing you and Spencer. You roll your eyes at her, but she just wiggles her brows at you before looking back at Shayne. His eyes light up as he reads out the next card.

“What made my first kiss so awkward? Announcing that I am about to cum. Oh my god…” Shayne reads, before putting his head in his hand and wheezing out a laugh. Everyone else laughs as well. Spencer looks over at you, laughing, giving you a look that asks if it’s your card, which you nod to. “I’m definitely going to have to give that one to whoever put this one down.”

“Yes! Score!” You shout, reaching to the table to grab the black card from where Shayne set it down. Shayne commends you for the well done card, before you take the next black card, reading it out. 

A few more rounds pass and by now, you’ve completely molded into Spencer’s side, not bothering to put any distance between the two of you. You have thoroughly avoided looking in Courtney’s direction, because you know if you did, she’d definitely shoot you a look. You know that to an unknowing eye, it probably looks like the two of you are a couple like Shayne and Courtney, but at this moment you really don’t care, there’s just something so comfortable about being cuddled up with your friend. 

Eventually, as the game comes to a comfortable pause and as you all discuss what games you might like to play next – most people suggesting different Jackbox games – you feel the drink from earlier hitting your bladder and sit up from your comfy seat.

“I’ve gotta use the bathroom, you all can decide without me,” you say, before turning and looking back at Spencer. “Save my seat for me, ‘kay?” He smiles and puts his hand down to the cushion you were on. You nod and begin walking off to the bathroom, before you hear someone speak from behind you.

“Ooh! I’ll come too!” Courtney’s voice makes you pause. You know she’s going to say something.

“Oh me too!” Angela follows. You consider letting them go first, but decide it’s best not to ignore your friend’s incessant teasing. It’ll happen sooner or later. 

Once you reach the outside of the bathroom, and outside of hearing range, both of the women practically jump on you.

“So, you two are getting pretty close,” Courtney begins.

“He doesn’t normally warm up to people this fast. Have you two started dating?” Angela interrogates. You put your hands up in defense, back against the bathroom door.

“Not you too, Angela. And no, we’re not dating. You guys were right about the fact that we’d get along really well! Why does it have to be anything more than that?” You ask, trying to get them off your backs. Spencer is a really great friend. You didn’t really have other male friends in your life that you were that close to, where you could be super close in public like that. He was just special like that, and so sweet, why would that necessarily mean you have to date him?

“Look,” Courtney starts to say, “all I’m saying is, if something does happen, you let me know. And let it be before Shayne’s birthday. I’ve got ten dollars on the line.”

You don’t know whether or not they’re joking about betting, but you just hesitantly nod, unsure of what to say, before quickly opening the bathroom door behind you and rushing inside. You’re glad they don’t tease you for it when you eventually come out, but they do both shoot you looks before you all go sit back down. Those jerks didn’t even need to use the bathroom.

“Okay, we’ve decided on Quiplash,” one of Courtney’s friends says to you three. When you look back to your space on the loveseat, you see Spencer has brought his arm back to the back of the couch, before looking up at you and scooting over to give you room to sit. Deciding to screw with Courtney and Angela a little, you sit far closer to Spencer than before, with one leg hiked up onto his knees, lightly manspreading. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Spencer’s shock, before his other hand comes down to rest on your shin. You feel him rubbing light circles there, before the hand around your back comes down to grab his phone to play with everyone. 

Trying to ignore the glances from your friends, and how your body feels strangely warm, you play the game like you normally would, having fun and laughing at the dumb responses some people put. Eventually, as you lean back into the seat more, your other leg is pinned up against the front of Spencer’s legs, and you don’t even notice it until he brings his hand down to hike your other leg up onto his lap.

You look over at him at this, feeling a little surprised that he did that, but his eyes don’t meet yours, instead looking down at his screen as he types out his answer to the prompt, other hand still resting on your shin. It takes a moment for you to pull yourself together when you look back at your phone, typing your answer as well.

After a couple seconds, on the top of your screen, you see a message pop up from Angela. You glance up at her and she looks away with a mischievous look on her face. Hesitantly, you tap on the message, seeing a picture of you and Spencer from the seat across from you where she’s sitting. Followed by the picture is the text “Couple goals”. You glare at her, which she laughs at before she shows the picture to Courtney, who gasps and asks Angela to send it to her.

Spencer seems oblivious to it all, before you hear the quiet buzz emanate from his phone. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch his face as he looks at whatever was sent – you’re imagining based off of Courtney and Angela’s gazes that it’s likely the picture she sent you – and he smiles and rolls his eyes. You see him glance down at how you’re lounging, looking at you with an unreadable expression for a few moments, before looking back to his screen. You don’t have much time to question it when the voting begins, and you’re brought back to the game.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to begin yawning, feeling the energy spent from the night begin to drain. Checking the time on your phone, you see that it’s nearing midnight. Glancing around, most of the other party goers seem to be tired as well. It appears to be the most perfect timing to make this observation, because it’s at that moment Shayne speaks up.

“Alright, guys, I think it’s probably time for everyone to start getting ready to head out. It’s almost our bedtime,” he says, looking over at Courtney, who nods in agreement.

“Yeah everyone. It’s been so great having you all here, and thank you so much for coming. Just make sure you all get home safe,” she says to everyone, who all voice how fun it was to have this party, and wishing another round of “happy birthday”s.

You and Spencer decide to stick around to clean up a little, as all good friends do, before heading out. You go hug Courtney and Shayne goodbye, before heading out to the car with Spencer.

The ride back to your place is mostly silent, a few small discussions about various jokes told throughout the night, before you arrive back at your place. Before you get out of the car, you reach into your pockets for your keys, only to realize that not only is this not your jacket, but also that you left your keys inside your jacket. And because this isn’t your jacket, you do not have the keys to get inside your apartment. Cursing, you pull out your phone, ready to text the party group chat to see if anyone is still nearby and accidentally took your jacket earlier.

“Whoa hey, what’s going on? You okay?” Spencer asks, concerned by your sudden fear and cursing. You feel him place his hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. Your eyes panicked, you look up into his eyes and see how worried he looks.

“I- no- well, I think someone mistook my jacket for theirs, but the keys to my place are in it, and now I have no way to get inside–”

You’re interrupted by a ding on your phone. Angela.

“Oh my god im so sorry i thought it was mine. im already home but i can drive over there now.”

At first, you sigh in relief, now at least you know the location of your keys, then immediately follow that realization with a groan. Angela’s the complete opposite direction from Courtney and Shayne’s place than you, meaning it’d be about a 45 minute long drive for her to get over here and give you your keys. As you begin thinking about what you’re going to do, planning out if you could stay awake for that long, Spencer’s gentle voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Hey, if you need a place to stay for the night, I can let you crash on my couch,” he says. Normally, you’d just brush it off, say it’s no biggie, but right now, you actually consider it. In that moment of consideration, Spencer has already made his decision, pulling the car out of park and pulling back onto the road. “My couch it is. Don’t worry, I’ll make it extra cozy for you.”

You open your mouth to protest, not wanting to intrude on his space, especially not when he feels like he has no other choice, but it’s really hard to argue when you feel like you’re about to pass out. For a moment you silently curse yourself for having stayed up late the previous night doing some extra work. 

“Only if you’re actually okay with it. If you’re just offering to be polite, I can just stay in the lobby until Angela gets there,” you say, really trying your hardest not to be a burden at this moment. You hear Spencer laugh beside you and shake his head. 

“You think I’d offer to let you stay over if I didn’t mean it? Besides, it’s basically just a sleepover, and friends have sleepovers all the time, in case you didn’t know,” he teases you. You bite your cheek, still hesitant to accept his offer, before pulling out your phone and texting Angela that it’s alright, and (also hesitantly) telling her that Spencer’s letting you stay over for the night. Her response comes quick with just a “Have fun 😏”, which makes you wonder how much of her stealing your jacket was really an accident.

Regardless, you’re still tired, and Spencer’s offer felt too good to pass up. So, once you arrive in his apartment’s parking lot and walk to his place, you try to hide how anxious you really are. It makes no sense to you why you feel this way, you’ve been over to his house many times before, but right now it feels different. You decide to blame it on your friends and the alcohol. 

After you take off your shoes and Angela’s jacket, you take a seat on the couch, grabbing the throw blanket that sits on the end, ready to settle in for the night. Of course, when you finally begin to feel the night take its hold of you, you’re jolted awake by the feeling of weight on top of you. When you open your eyes, you see that Spencer has thrown another blanket on you, followed soon by a pillow which he tosses at your face. With a scowl, you grab the pillow and put it under your head, glaring at your friend as he silently laughs at your expression. 

“Sorry, I thought you might have needed that,” he says, a little bit of sarcasm seeping into his words. Another piece of fabric hits your face. “And that.” You open your mouth to snap back at him, but once you pull whatever he threw at your from your face, you see it’s his infamous Legacy hoodie. You roll your eyes at him before a silence fills the room, making you feel like there’s some words you’ve left unsaid. 

“Thank you, Spence. I… you’re a really great friend,” you say, feeling a little embarrassed while saying it. It’s not that you haven’t called him a good friend before, but it feels different now. You’re both alone, in his apartment, at midnight, and he’s standing right in front of you. His living room is currently dimmed, the only light coming is emanating from his bedroom, which you assume he’ll retreat to any minute now to sleep. He looks down at you, but you can’t really see his expression. 

“Tonight was really fun,” he says, before a moment of silence once more fills the room. “Do you think our co-workers will ever stop shipping us?” He asks out of nowhere, which makes you immediately shoot up, sleepiness gone. 

“They’re so excessive! Court keeps sending me TikToks of us together, have they been sending that to you too?” You ask. You had been wanting to bring up the ship with him for a while now, but had felt it’d be too awkward to do so. You hear him smile in the darkness before taking a seat on the edge of the couch, his butt touching your legs.

“Yeah, yeah, they have. And yknow, it sucks because I can’t send back any videos to them because they’re married to the person they’re shipped with. Frankly, it’s unfair,” he says, and you nod, laughing at his words. 

“God, and tonight too. I swear, I couldn’t look their way without them sending me goo goo eyes.”

“‘Goo goo eyes’? Really?”

“Yes, 'really'. I mean, you saw their antics of them sending the picture of us on the couch together.”

“Oh god, they sent that to you too?”

“Yes! They really aren’t subtle, are they?”

A beat of silence falls in the room. This time, it’s not awkward, nor do you feel like you need to say anything. Instead, you just sit there, feeling Spencer’s body heat through the blanket over you. It feels like minutes pass when he finally speaks again. 

“We did look pretty cute though,” he says, and you can see him looking down at you. You snort, rolling your eyes before looking back up at him.

“You’re just fueling their delusions,” you say, but some part of your chest feels a little tight. No more words are shared when he finally stands up, turning around to tuck you in. You laugh at him but go along with it, snuggling even further into the blankets. Once he finishes, he pecks you just an inch from your forehead, not actually touching you, but still making the “mwah” sound, before ruffling your hair and walking back to his room. 

You exchange “goodnight”s before the room falls completely empty and silent. You don’t bother to move to the bathroom to take off your now uncomfortable shirt and replace it with his hoodie. A smile spreads across your face as you realize how much it smells like him. It doesn’t take you long after that to drift off, the memories from earlier that night fueling your imagination as your mind shifts to dreaming.

[lilaacmoon]

ROOMMATES Pt two, written by lilaacmoon

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ summary: You’ve been awkward since the night Hamzah heard you, and he calls you out on it. You admit your into him, and things quickly heat up between you two. Just as it’s getting intense, Martin interrupts, and Hamzah has to leave for work. You’re left stunned, still feeling the tension.

It’s been a few days since you touched yourself thinking about Hamzah, and ever since, things have felt… weird. Awkward tension clung to the air like something unspoken but heavy.

When you both stepped out of your rooms that morning, you locked eyes for a second before quickly looking away. You walked in the same direction, quiet. But your brain wouldn’t stop spiraling.

Did he hear me? Was I loud? Oh my god.

The kitchen felt tense too, like even the air knew what you did. Hamzah finally broke the silence.

“You’ve been acting weird these past few days,” he said, turning to face you fully.

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I haven’t. You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he raised a brow. “’Cause ever since the other night, you’ve barely looked at me.”

You hesitated, heart racing. “What other night?”

He tilted his head a little. “Don’t play dumb. I was right outside your door. I heard everything—your moans, the way you whispered my name.”

Your face flushed immediately. “I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

He stepped forward and lifted your chin gently. “C’mon. Just admit it. You’re into me.”

You tried denying it, but your voice cracked. Finally, you sighed. “Okay… maybe I am. So what?”

His lips curved into a smirk, but his eyes stayed soft. “So why do you keep acting like you hate me?”

“I don’t hate you,” you murmured. “I just didn’t know what to do with how I felt.”

“Next time,” he said quietly, “don’t shut me out.”

You nodded, barely. His thumb brushed your bottom lip.

“Let me take care of you tonight, yeah?” he whispered.

You barely managed to whisper his name before he leaned in, kissing you gently.

Then somehow, you were on the kitchen counter, lips tangled in his. His hands held your waist while yours pulled at his hair. Moans slipped out between kisses.

You squealed when he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist. He carried you to his room, door shut behind him with his foot.

He laid you down gently, never breaking the kiss. When he pulled back, hovering between your thighs, you felt him grinding into your soaked core through your clothes.

The friction made you squirm.

“Fuck,” he groaned softly, grinding down again. “I need to taste you.”

He slowly tugged your shorts down, watching you closely for any hesitation. When he saw none, he dropped to his knees, spreading your thighs and leaning in.

The first swipe of his tongue had you gasping. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he worked you slowly—soft licks, gentle sucking, learning every reaction. It was overwhelming in the best way.

You whimpered his name, legs trembling.

Just as the knot in your stomach started to snap—

A knock.

“Hamzah?” Martin’s voice rang through the door. “You forgot to lock the front door.”

You froze. Hamzah groaned against your thigh.

Another knock. “Also, we need to film the Out of Character episode. We’re behind.”

Hamzah leaned forward and kissed your inner thigh again, muttering under his breath, “Of all the times…”

He stood up, kissed your cheek, and yelled toward the door, “I’ll be out in a little!”

“Bro, we’re two segments short—”

“I said in a little!” he snapped, clearly trying to stay calm.

He gave you a look—apologetic without needing to say sorry. “I’ll just clean up,” he whispered, kissing you one last time before walking into the bathroom.

You got dressed.

When he came out, towel over his shoulder, he looked surprised. “You got dressed?”

“Didn’t know what to do,” you said quietly. “Martin’s out there…”

He walked over and tilted your face up again, kissing you softly.

“You good?” he asked.

You nodded, even if everything in you still buzzed.

“Alright,” he said, giving your knee a small squeeze. “I’ll be gone for a while. Stay here if you want.”

Then he walked out, leaving you sitting there with your heart still racing and your head full of everything that just happened.

[lightfin]

How to train your Dragon x tales of Arcadia. P1

Ok, so I’ve wanted to make this post for such a long time but it’s finally here.

My two favourite franchises have always been httyd and Trollhunters, and the fact that it is cannon that these two universes are connected, are not talked enough about.

So, I’m going to talk about it. Some head cannons I’ve got, and why it is cannon in the first place.

-

So, why do I think it’s possible these two worlds are connected?

First off, both franchises are owned, and made by the same company Dreamworks, so the possibility of the two worlds alining can happen.

Second, the world both are based in is very grounded to our own, just in seperate time periods.

And third, BOTH franchises reference each other closer then any other Dreamworks production has done. But also in a way that doesn’t break the idea itself.

So let’s start at the beginning shall we.

Httyd 1- 2010

Befor the world of Trollhunters was even brought to light, the first how to train your dragon film gives us hints that other magical creatures besides dragons, exist in there world. But not just any creatures as hiccup explains.

“Vikings say that a hideous name will scare off gnomes and trolls.”

Gnomes and trolls! where have I seen those two creatures lining up in the same room?… oh yea.

Furthermore, it’s not the end of it, because Gober later explains.

“Trolls exist! they steel your socks, but only the left ones, ah what’s with that?”

Just to clear up Gober only has a left foot so of course it’s just the leaft ones, but what have we also seen trolls do in Trollhunters on multiple occasions.

And if that doesn’t convince you, let’s move on to Trollhunters, shall we.

Trollhunters season 1, ep 7 ‘To catch a changeling’

After Jim and Toby meet up with Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and Vendel about there discovery of Killahead bridge. They pull out a tarp they think is hiding said bridge, only to reveal a Viking long boat in its place. But not just any model, the same ones used in httyd. This image being of Johanna’s trading ship from RTTE.

Now it could just be a model reuse, just like how Pixar puts in Easter eggs in each of there movies and there not connected. Or aren’t they? because the long boat isn’t the only thing.

On multiple occasions, team trollhunter uncover items like Viking helmets, jugs and various other items from the other franchise, but one of the greatest examples, is in season 2 ep 8 ‘Just add water.’

Where you can see Blinky, Aaarrrgghh and Draal playing a trolls version of D&D ( which I love by the way) using a Maces and Talons board!!

Now for any httyd fans who haven’t watched the shows, Maces and Talons is a strategy game played in Race to the edge (on Netflix) which plays a significant roll in establishing one of the villains motives and cunning.

And it’s used in Trollhunters!

Now you might think, how did they even come to aquire it, why isn’t it in a museum or back with nature. Trolls live for centuries, no doubt a troll during the time period undercover it and somehow bought it to Dwosa and later Trollmarket to be used for other means.

And if that doesn’t convince you, I’ve got more.

In wizards tales of Arcadia, during the dungeon break, there are two, animated Night terrors in one of the cells in Camelot. I’m not joking it’s a blink and you will miss it, but they are there.

Not only are this Viking culture cannon, but the very dragons themselves!

And now for my final peice of evidence, the crown jewel itself, these two images.

A source of light and sustenance- that’s what a heartstone is, and it is the same in both scenarios.

Trollhunter and HTTYD are of the same cannon universe.

And I LOVE THAT!!!!

That opens up so much possibility for storytelling it is blowing my mind!!

Now, I am not forgetting the picture of Toothless on Jim’s desktop laptop in episode one, but I have an explanation for that one too.

What if both the httyd films and characters are cannon to that universe, Hear me out.

In our world, the world and characters are crafted, inspired by the book series we all know and love. So what if instead of books in the TOA world, it’s history.

What if toothless is a well known historical dragon in history, depicted in tapestries, books and architecture that Hiccup and the vikings of Berk left behind that has been discovered by archaeologists of the 21st century. Which have made for interesting story’s to then be adapted into the films. But the films are slightly different from the real life events, which in this case would be the franchise we know. But toothless very much staying the same. Which is realy cool to think about.

( I am not counting the nine realms logic, that was made after both franchises existing, that is not cannon and I will never accept it to be.)

[diamonddaze01]

on poetry and homecomings

pairing: yjh x gn!reader (reader does have long hair)

genre: fluff, slice of life, suggestive | wc: 2.0K

summary: jeonghan has apparently started reading poetry. 

warnings: mentions of sex, missing jeonghan hours

a/n: ahhh finally I decided to post my first ever fic // this is entirely self-indulgent bc i miss hannie // also! The poetry mentioned here is by Mahmoud Darwish, who wrote the Palestinian Declaration of Independence

Two months ago, if someone had asked you about your ideal Friday night, Jeonghan would have answered, “Y/N’s favorite thing to do on a Friday night is be with me!” 

In a way, that’s still true - the TV in the living room is playing some old GoSe episode that you don’t have the heart to stop yet. Jeonghan had all but stopped reading your messages the week prior, so you were left to fill the void the best you could. Jeonghan’s smile fills the screen as he chases Hoshi around an abandoned building, and even though he’s only been gone for 2 months for basic training, it feels like he’s been gone a lifetime.

“Wow, Catch Stock? That’s old,” a voice teases from the front door.

Time all but stops for a second.  “JEONGHAN?”

“I’m home!” he yells, and it feels like you can breathe again. You can hear him unlacing his boots in the foyer, and before you can untangle yourself from the sheets on the couch, he’s standing at the entrance to the living room. 

“Miss me?” he leans against the doorway, arms out. 

“You weren’t supposed to be back for another three days!” you exclaim, rushing toward him.

“Got out early, and just in time too, huh? Looks like my baby missed me enough to watch three-year-old content.” He grins, and your heart twists just so, like you’re going to die if you don’t have him in your arms right now. 

“Shut up, you weren’t picking up your phone,” you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close, smothering his face with kisses.

“I missed you too, love,” he murmurs between your onslaught of affection. “You know I can’t answer when I’m in training.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, pulling back just enough to take him in. He looks as handsome as ever, dressed in a simple t-shirt and joggers that only accentuate his lean physique. You don’t realize how much you’d missed this—his presence, his warmth, the little quirk of his lips as he watches you ogle him (That’s a lie, you think, as he presses kisses to your lips, humming softly. You know exactly how much you’ve missed him). 

You try to burrow yourself further into his arms, but the moment is interrupted by your stomach growling. He smiles into the kiss, and it makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy and like home (Home! Jeonghan is home! Your brain offers unhelpfully. Also, can we maybe have food?). 

“Come on, I was about to make some very gourmet ramen,” you say, and he whines a little against your lips. “But since you're home early, maybe I should step it up.”

“Nooo,” he moans, his eyes crinkling in that way that makes your heart flip. “You look so delicious right now. Can we maybe skip the ramen? I’m hungry for something el-”

You shake your head in disbelief as you escape his tightening grip, letting out a bark of laughter as you run toward the kitchen, Jeonghan following closely behind. “You’re impossible,” you tease, grabbing the noodle packets from the pantry. “Food, then sex until we can’t walk, okay?”

He raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter, taking in your appearance. You glance down at your choice of clothing: one of his shirts, tied up with an old scrunchie and a pair of Hello Kitty pants he forced you to buy with him (“come on, baby, we’d be so cute at Christmas!” And really, how could you disagree with that logic). Jeonghan’s gaze is soft, his smile lazy and affectionate, and he looks like he’s trying to commit you to memory. 

“You look nice,” he breathes, and you press a kiss to his cheek before spinning away from his grabby hands. 

“I look like I haven’t left the house in days,” you state matter-of-factly, hunting for a pot. “Aha! I would have liked to look perfect for your first night home.”

“You are perfect,” he bites his lip, voice low but playful. “Stunning, actually.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn on the stove to start boiling water for the noodles. “Agree to disagree, baby.”

He steps closer, his arms wrapping around you, chin resting gently on your shoulder. You bask in his affection for a little, nuzzling your cheek against his smile. The next time he speaks, it’s so soft you almost don’t hear it. 

“If I ever see a flaw of yours, I’d say my eyes are the flawed ones.”

You freeze for a moment, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. Turning slightly to catch his gaze, you find  his eyes sparkling with a mixture of teasing and affection. You roll your eyes playfully, smacking his shoulder with the tongs (Awful, evil man, your brain titters. How dare he make us feel this beautiful! Let’s forget about the ramen and kiss this awful, evil man until we can’t see straight). 

“And when did you get so cheesy?” you laugh, leaning your hip against the counter as you shoot him an exasperated smile.

Jeonghan's grin widens, but he doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his hands gently find yours. Lifting them to his lips, he presses featherlight kisses into your palm until you’re sure you’ve just melted into a puddle on the dingy linoleum floor. 

(Something about the harsh kitchen lighting and the way he looks into your eyes as he kisses your hands makes you feel like you’re drowning. He presses an extra kiss to the back of your ring finger, like a promise, and your heart nearly bursts). 

“Some book one of the guys gave me during training,” he mumbles into your fingers, his voice muffled but warm, like it was carrying some secret just for you. His lips brush your skin as he speaks, and his smile—lazy, familiar, and filled with affection—makes your heart swell in your chest. 

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you try to suppress the blush creeping up your cheeks. “So now you're quoting poetry?”

He shrugs, eyes glinting with amusement. “Only the good ones. It made me think of you.”

“Sap.”

“And you love it,” he shoots back, lowering your hands but keeping them in his, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles. “Besides, it worked, didn’t it?”

(You do love it. And it did work. You’re very close to having your way with him on this kitchen counter, ramen be damned. Awful, evil man!)

You scoff as you turn back to the stove, playfully yanking your hands from his, but the warmth from Jeonghan’s touch lingers. You could feel him still watching you, his presence comforting and familiar after what felt like forever, even though it had only been a few weeks. You add the noodles to the pot, stirring them absentmindedly, feeling his gaze like a soft weight on your shoulders.

Without warning, Jeonghan slips his arms around your waist again, pulling you gently into his chest. “You know,” he murmurs, his chin resting on your shoulder again, “you could’ve waited for me to make dinner. I’m pretty good at boiling water too.”

You let out a light laugh, leaning back into his embrace. “I didn’t know you were coming home tonight, Mr. Sneaky. It’s ramen or nothing, take it or leave it.”

“I’ll take it,” he sighs contentedly, squeezing you a little tighter. “But only because you made it.”

As you stand there, wrapped in his warmth, a memory flashes into your mind— the night before he left for training. 

(He fucked you like a madman that night, your brain sings. He made it seem like he was going to be gone forever! Awful, evil man!)

After, he drew lazy patterns on your back, humming as the last night of summer slipped into dawn. Your head was on his chest, and you tried to memorize his heartbeat. 

It was you who broke the silence first, pressing kisses over his heart as you whispered,  “Do you have to go so soon?”

His eyes were soft as he pushed your hair behind your ears. “You know I do, baby. Just for a few weeks though.”

You tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach your eyes. “I know, but still… It’s going to feel different without you here.”

Jeonghan smiled softly, pulling you closer so you could rest your head back on his chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, running his hands through your hair until you shivered.

(The world could’ve stopped spinning for all you cared, because when he looked at you with such sincerity and love that you believed him without a second thought)

You gave him a knowing look. “But you are.”

“Not really. I’ll always come back home to you,” his voice is scratchy, like he’s about to cry, and he presses kisses to your forehead until you drift off to sleep. 

(In the morning, he kissed you breathless before swinging the door shut behind him, and you swear the house had never felt more empty)

The memory stirs something deep inside you, and you blink back to the present, feeling Jeonghan’s familiar warmth still wrapped around you.

He seems to sense the shift in your mood because his grip around your waist tightens ever so slightly. “You okay?” he asks softly, his breath warm against your ear. His arms tighten around your waist ever so slightly, sensing a shift in your mood. It makes you fall in love with him all over again (Awful, evil man!)

“Yeah,” you reply, your voice a little quieter now. “Just… thinking about when you left.”

He leans his chin on your shoulder again, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your neck. “Told you I’d come back,” he whispers, his lips brushing your skin.

When you feel goosebumps erupt in his wake, you turn in his arms to face him. “You did,” you say softly, resting your hands on his chest. “But I still missed you.”

Jeonghan chuckles, his fingers brushing a lock of hair from your face. “I’ll always come back home to you. You know that, right?”

You nod, your heart swelling with warmth as you lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I know,” you murmur against him, “but I’ll still miss you every time.”

His smile widens, and he pulls you even closer, the love in his eyes clear as day. “Then I’ll just have to keep reminding you, every time I come back.”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smirk forming on your lips. “By quoting cheesy poetry?”

He grins mischievously, leaning in to press soft kisses along your neck, making you squeal with laughter. “Home is where the heart is,” he recites dramatically, his breath tickling your skin. “And my heart? Well, it’s always been right here with you.”

(Try as you might, you are as fallible to Yoon Jeonghan’s charms as the rest of the world. It is a Herculean task to remain nonchalant. Awful, evil man! This was his plan all along!)

You can't help but laugh, shaking your head as you playfully push him away. “Cheesy, baby. Try something else.”

But he only chuckles, leaning back in to catch your lips with his, whispering, “No seriously, I’m writing my own poetry now. Want to hear my next line?”

“Only if it’s not about ramen,” you shoot back, grinning.

“Too late, it’s about how I miss you more than I miss ramen,” he replies, nuzzling against you, and your heart beats in time to his laugh.

(Two months ago, if someone had asked you about your ideal Friday night, Jeonghan would have answered, “Y/N’s favorite thing to do on a Friday night is be with me!” He’s right—because even on this Friday night, you curl up next to him on the couch, feeling his heartbeat sync with your own, knowing that with him home, everything is finally as it should be)

[yuikomorii]

AYAYUI IDOL AU: Chapter 4

// Note to self: Never write in places with barely any signal, or you risk losing everything you've written. After all this time, I've finally posted the fourth chapter. I apologize for the delay; it’s been a stressful period, but now I’m free again, so I'll try to stay more consistent! 😇

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Ayato: ( Where the hell is she!? )

( Seriously, what kind of porter suddenly runs away from their job? She’s either a rookie who doesn’t know what she’s doing, or just a complete joke for real. )

*Ring Ring*

( Haa… that’s what was missing. )

— answers phone —

Ayato: What now?

Manager: Ayato-san, where are you? Subaru-san told me you left without a proper explanation, and the recordings need to start soon!

Ayato: ...!

( Oh no, the recordings! Fuck, I totally forgot about that! )

A-Ah, right. I got caught up with something, but it’s okay, I’ll be back soon.

Manager: No, you’ll be back right now. Do you understand?

Ayato: ( Shit, her voice dropped! She must really be pissed…! )

Fine, fine. I’m on my way, don’t worry! Just… give me a second.

Place: Hotel kitchen

Co-worker 1: Gosh, I’m so happy we’ll get to see them up close!

Co-worker 2: I know, right? I wonder how much better they look in person compared to pictures!

Co-worker 3: A friend who went to their Osaka concert told me their skin is even fairer in real life, and Ayato-kun’s face is incredibly small—like, even smaller than in photos!

Co-worker 4: Eeh!? Is that even possible? His face is already so small for his body, so isn’t it unfair to be this beautiful?

Yui: …

( At first, hearing them gush over these boys seemed sweet, but now... I’m not sure what to think anymore. )

*Flashback*

Ayato: Can’t you see? This is her responsibility, not yours, so let her do her job.

If she’s not capable of taking it seriously, then she just shouldn’t be working here anymore and risk damaging the hotel's reputation.

*Flashback ends*

Yui: ( That Ayato boy… so many people adore him, and they say he’s all sunshine offstage, but to be honest, he seemed completely different when I met him. )

( I know I shouldn’t be judgemental, but for some reason… I do feel a little sad that I didn’t leave a good first impression. )

( I guess that’s why he acted like that towards me. He’s an idol, after all, and he must deal with all sorts of pressures on a daily basis. I can’t help but think anyone would get stressed in that kind of situation… )

( Nevertheless, if I ever get the chance to speak with him again, I’ll definitely apo——)

— hears a bunch of screams —

Yui: ( What on— )

…!

( They’re in the kitchen! )

Ayato: ( Wait… is that the porter—? )

Subaru: ( Haven’t we seen that girl before? )

Chief: Alright, girls, lower your voices and clear out of the kitchen. We’ve got work to do.

Co-worker 5: What? No way! Are we seriously not allowed to watch the cooking episode live!?

Co-worker 6: Please, let us stay! We promise we won’t interfere with the maknae line!

Chief: ( Haa… they're all giving me puppy eyes now. )

I’m really sorry, girls, but—

Ayato: Wait, I’ve got an idea!

Everyone: Eeh!?

Subaru: ( I don’t like the sound of this… )

Ayato: To make things fair, how about this: Each of us picks one of the girls to help us cook. That way, two lucky fans will get involved too, isn’t it great?

Chief: Actually… that’s not a bad idea at all! In fact, we could turn it into a full-on cooking contest.

The winners… hmm… oh yeah! They will receive ultimate access to all of the hotel’s facilities—including our newest room, the onsen.

— hears gasping sounds —

Subaru: ( I’d rather lose than deal with that… )

Ayato: Hmph, fair enough. I’m in.

— smirks and looks at Subaru —

What about you?

Subaru: ( Ugh… but I guess I have no choice now. )

Fine, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.

— hears squealing —

( Man, don’t make me regret this… )

Ayato: Alright, since no one’s stepping up, this Ayato-sama will go first~!

Eenie, Meenie, Miney… You! The blonde one with pink hairpin!

Subaru: ( Hah? The porter girl? )

Yui: …!?

( He recognized me! )

( Oh no, what if he’s planning to teach me a lesson? He might be an idol, but after all… you never really know what kind of person someone truly is…! I don’t even know what to do right now…! )

( Uhh… I guess I could just pretend I didn’t hear him? Maybe if I act like I didn’t notice, he’ll think I’m not interested and pick someone else instead! )

— starts looking around —

Ayato: Don’t play dumb, I know you heard me, kuku~.

— gets closer —

Co-worker 4: ( I’m so jealous! )

Co-worker 6: ( Ugh… that should have been me! )

Yui: A-Ah, sorry! I was just… so caught off guard, I didn’t realize at first.

— giggles awkwardly —

( This is already so embarrassing…! Now he probably thinks I’m not only unserious but an airhead too! )

Ayato: Nah, don’t worry about it. I get it—you must be nervous getting picked by an idol and all, no? But heyyy, chill a bit, you can make up for it in the kitchen.

— grins and wraps arm around her shoulder —

Yui: ( W-Wait, what? )

Ayato: Until Subaru chooses his cooking partner, let’s settle ourselves in our part of the kitchen, hm?

— starts heading to different section —

Yui: ( Why is he suddenly being so… friendly? )

( Could it be that’s just how he actually is…? )

( A-Anyway! It’s none of my business, so I shouldn’t worry about it. I’m sure it’ll be fine, right? )

( …Right? )

*timeskip*

Yui: ( We’ve already set up all the necessary cooking tools, so everything should be ready to go… but it feels kind of weird. )

( He hasn’t said a single word this whole time. I can’t tell if he’s just focused on something or if he’s deliberately ignoring me… Either way, the silence is starting to feel a little unsettling. )

Ayato: ( Tch… why isn’t she saying anything? I thought teenagers were supposed to be obsessed with idols—excited, giggly, trying to get close. But this one? She’s just standing there like she’s afraid to even breathe near me. What’s even her deal? )

( Wait… does she actually fear me now? I mean, yeah, I wasn’t exactly nice when she was carrying the luggage, but are people really that sensitive?)

( Haa… whatever. If this awkwardness keeps up, it’s just going to ruin the mood for everything. I should just suck it up and take this as an opportunity to apologize. )

Oi! You… You’re the porter girl, right?

Yui: …!

( Uuh… I guess there’s no point in pretending… If I try to lie about it, I’ll just make things even more complicated. )

Y-Yeah, that’s so.

Ayato: …Sorry. You know, for earlier.

Yui: …!?

( Did he just… apologize to me? )

Ah, t-there’s no need to! If anything, I should be the one apologizing for my poor performance.

( While it’s true that his words weren’t that pleasant to hear, I still need to take responsibility for my part in this too. )

The truth is… I’m not actually a hotel porter. The only reason I was acting like one was because the real porter couldn’t make it today, so I had to step in.

I know I wasn’t very good at it, and I was so clumsy that I probably could’ve broken something important in your luggage…

That said, I really hope I didn’t cause too much trouble for you or your group mate.

Ayato: ( Well, I really wasn’t expecting all that as an answer, but as long as we’re good, that’s what matters. )

You didn’t, it’s okay.

Let’s just stop dwelling on this and get cooking~!

Yui: Fufu, alright! What do you think would be good to make?

Ayato: Takoyaki!

Yui: Takoyaki? That’s...

( I mean, Takoyaki is surely delicious, but isn’t it a little too casual for a cooking contest? )

S-Sure, it sounds nice, but uhm… wouldn’t you prefer something a bit fancier?

Ayato: Hah? What are you talking about? Everyone loves Takoyaki! It’s a crowd favorite!

Plus, it’s not hard to make at all— we’ll have it done in no time, and it’s pretty much impossible to mess it up, right?

Yui: ( Hmm... he’s got a point. Takoyaki is easy and tasty, so I guess it’s not the worst choice. )

( Actually, I think I’ve got an idea! )

How about making two dishes? We can start with the Takoyaki as a snack and then make something else as the main course!

That way, we can keep things light and fun with the Takoyaki, but also have something a bit more substantial for the actual meal. What do you think?

Ayato: Heh, not bad! That sounds pretty smart.

But what exactly do you mean by "something more substantial"?

Yui: Maybe… Japanese-style Pot-au-feu? It’s healthy and comforting, so I feel like it would be perfect for a main dish.

Ayato: ( Never heard of it, but she seems to know her stuff. I’ll just nod along and pretend I know what she’s talking about. )

Yeah, sounds great! Let’s get started!

*timeskip*

Yui: Wha—! What are you doing!?

Ayato: Hah? I’m just adding vegetables in the pot?

Yui: But you have to remove the stem from the turnip first!

Ayato: Eh? Oh!!

— starts removing it —

Ayato: Done!

— tries to throw it in the pot —

Yui: Wait, don’t! You have to peel the turnip now!

Ayato: Pfft, right. I was just kidding~.

( How exactly does one peel? )

Yui: ( Something tells me this guy has never cooked before… )

( I don’t know why, but I find it kinda cute though. )

( His status is higher than mine but as we’re spending time together, I realize he’s just a normal teenage boy after all. )

( Fufu, instead of stressed, these moments feel a bit comforting. )

I-If you’re not very good with that, I could do it instead! You could cut the rest of the vegetables until I peel the turnips.

Ayato: ( Phew, thanks goodness! I thought I was going to embarrass myself there. )

Hmm… alright then! Let’s switch!

( Cutting can’t be that hard, no? )

( I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I do that, unlike with peeling. )

( Heh, right. It will be piece of cake. )

Yui: Here are the vegetables that still need to be cut and here is the knife. If you need anything else, feel free to tell me.

— Ayato nods —

Ayato: ( Dunno why but this girl seems low-key cool. Of course, not cooler than an idol such as myself, but she somehow feels… natural? No, maybe that’s not the right word, but it’s just that she’s surprisingly a nice company? )

( Heh, it almost feels like a pity that we won’t see each other after this day. )

( This whole thing reminds me of the girl I met that night. )

( …Huh? Why am still think— )

Ouch!

Yui: Eh? What happened?

Ayato: Ugh, I was cutting those things and accidentally cut myself but haa… it’s fine, no worries.

Yui: Oh no, your finger is bleeding!

Ayato: As I said, it’s fi——

Yui: Quick! Please, take this!!

— gives him water compress —

Ayato: Huh…?

( Wait a little—! )

*Flashback*

Ayato: Hnn... Ngh!

( What... what should I do now!? )

???: Quick! Please, drink this!!

— hands him water —

Ayato: Huh...?

*Flashback ends*

Ayato: …!

( This girl…— )

[humanoidtyphoons]

Having made two polls about the finales, I wondered… what about pilot episodes?

On one hand, they’re rough, haven’t found their footing, and characters can be wildly different and inconsistent to who they end up becoming.

But on the other hand, it’s the start of a journey! They have no idea what’s to happen! Who they’ll befriend/fall in love/hate! And you have three or four or seven series to look forward to watching, and witness highs and lows! Here we go again!

TOS and ENT both finally included because I’ve watched both and I didn’t have the heart to not include them. (But seriously, no spoilers past 1x03 of Enterprise, please!) Haven’t seen future shows, so they’re not included. Didn’t include AOS because I’m only curious about TV mediums this time around, tbh.

EDIT: it’s been brought to my attention that Where No Man Has Gone Before is TOS’ pilot, not The Man Trap, which was aired first. Unfortunately, I am unable to change the poll, but perhaps next time? Apologies for the mistake!

Which pilot is your favourite? Which first episode left the best impression on you and made you excited to watch more?

[turcott3]

angel

matt rempe x fem! reader

warnings?: switches from third to second pov a few times, cursing, talks of fighting, talks of smut, crying, alcohol

loosely based on black mirror episode ‘arkangel’

(third person will be written in italics)

masterlist

-

2011

you found your way to the open pavement as the final school bell rang. the basketball court and black top was where everyone hung out that didn’t ride the bus, which was honestly a good chunk of people.

you found your way to your everyday meeting spot, and sat down on the large rock. the same rock where you met up with your sister everyday. you noticed the trouble maker kid outside as well.

his name was matthew. he was in the third grade, you in first.

you tend to watch him from afar, listening in on his conversations. something about him drew you in. you were so intrigued by his presence. recently, you’d discovered that he plays hockey, and now he was getting deeper into it

hockey this, hockey that. that’s all he talked about now.

all his friends were called over by their parents one by one and soon he was left alone, drawing his attention to you. he walks quickly over to you.

the two of you knew each other vaguely, you were at least on a first name basis given you’d been outside together many times before your sister graced you with her presence.

“so you play hockey?” you ask.

“yeah, how’d you know?” he asks, tilting his head to the side slightly.

“well i just heard you talking.” you replied.

“oh so you were snooping?” he retorts.

“well no i-“

“you wanna learn about it?” he offers and you nod.

“i think i should tell you about my favorite part.” he smirks.

he begins rambling on vaguely about the sport but focusing on his alleged favorite part.

fighting.

“and then he takes his fist and he-“

“matthew stop it!” your sister shouts, speed walking into frame.

“what?” he asks.

“stopping scaring my sister. you’re freaking her out with all your scary, violent stuff.”

“i haven’t even told her anything about it yet.” he spat his words out strongly at her.

“whatever. she’s 6, she doesn’t need to know about that stuff.” your sister says clenching your shoulder one last time.

“you can tell me another time.” you whisper to him, guarding your mouth from her view.

“i heard that y/n. and no, he won’t tell you another time. come on, mom is waiting.” she says tugging your sleeve. you couldn’t help but keep your eyes locked on his frame as he directed his story elsewhere. silly, frantic punching motions coming from the boy.

-

2013

you sat alone on the ground as you watched all the kids run around at recess.

more specifically, matt playing football with his friends.

you sighed as you picked the small weed flowers, stuffing the pretty ones in your pocket for later. you hear yells from the group of boys playing football and look up, seeing matthew slow to a stop, his eyes on you.

“hey guys uh, ill be back in a few.” he shouts, jogging in your direction. you felt a lump in your throat as he approached.

“hey y/n.”

“hi.”

“what’s wrong? everything okay?” he asks, genuine concern lining his tone.

“yeah, my friend is sick today so, i don’t have anyone to play with.”

“i’m sorry, here,” he pauses sitting down next to you, “now you have someone.”

you smile at the gesture. as much of a bad, misbehaved kid he was, he was always so kind to you, and you never knew why.

“so you play football now?” you ask, looking at the flowers you picked.

“nah, just here. can’t play hockey at recess can i?” he asks leaning closer, nudging your shoulder.

“yeah i guess you’re right.” you giggle.

“well since my sisters in middle school now, you can finally tell me about hockey. i just don’t wanna stop your game over there.” you continue.

“they can play without me.” he simply replies.

“oh…. okay.”

“so you wanna hear about it now aye?” he teases.

“yeah.” you reply shyly. he goes on to tell you about the new rules he was learning, obviously building up to his favorite part.

the fighting. again.

“i’m a lot bigger than the other guys so, it’s easy for me to beat them up.” he says.

“really?”

“yeah, i think i’ve broken a few noses. you should look on youtube when you get home. just look up hockey fights. they’re awesome.” he tells you finally as your teacher called out for you to come back inside.

“thank you for sitting with me matthew.”

“yeah you’re welcome, oh, and you can call me matt by the way.” he replies as you nod and walk away from him. growing more and more curious about him by the day.

-

2017

you were a month into your seventh grade year, freshly 13 years old. matt had moved on up to highschool. it made you a little sad not seeing him in the halls during school but since you rode with your sister, who was now a junior, you saw him sitting outside once school got out.

you sighed as you walked past him at a distance. swarmed by girls he seemed mildly interested in.

“ooo shiny new hockey player. kiss my ass.” you mumble to yourself, keeping your head pointed to the ground as you walked to your sisters car. you heard matt’s voice in the distance telling the girls he’d catch them later.

“y/n, wait up.” he calls to you, jogging to catch up to you.

“hey matt.” you smile lightly, blushing at him ditching all those girls to see you.

“how’s big ol’ seventh grade going for ya?” he asks as you continue walking.

“oh it’s good. kinda boring. middle school is dumb.”

“yeah well, i miss seeing you in the halls. highschool better come quick. i’ll catch you later y/n, my moms here.” he nudges your arm as you wave bye to him.

“was that matt?” your sister asks as you approach the car.

“yeah it was.”

“what did he want?” she scoffs as you both shut your car doors.

“he’s not some evil, disgusting monster you know? we’re friends, kinda.” you reply.

“i just don’t want him to be a bad influence on you.”

“you don’t see me fighting people at school do you?”

“well no-“

“then there you go. he’s not.”

“okay y/n.” she replies, pulling out into the road and driving home.

you had no idea why she had formed this resentment for him. he hadn’t done anything to her, she just took what she heard of him and ran with it.

the rest of the drive home was quiet, she made you mad and you were done. defending matt against your sister wasn’t on the books today, but you were sure to get an earful from your mother later.

-

2018

you walked with your friend away from the buses and to the side entrance of the school, seeing matt leaned up against his brand new range rover, girls and his friends swarmed in a small group around him.

“look at that, matt’s sick new ride.”

“yeah.”

“let’s go see it.” she says grabbing your hand and dragging you in his direction.

“y/n.” he shouts, everyone’s attention directing to you.

“nice new wheels.” your friend says, staring into his soul, but him still having eyes on you.

“how you been, haven’t seen you around much this summer.” he asks you honestly.

“oh i’m good thanks matt. and yeah, nice car.” you blush.

“thanks. bells ringing soon. we should get going yeah?” he says leaning up off his car leaving his crew behind, slinging an arm over your shoulder as eyes hit you like daggers.

“can’t let you get lost on your first day.” he says and you giggle.

“matt.” you mumble and he stops outside your classroom, your friend waving as she turns off down another hall.

“what’s up?” he replies.

“everyone’s staring at me.” you say, escaping his grip.

“it’s just because of my new car, trust me, they don’t actually want me…. i think.” he doubts his words looking around.

“matt you know that’s not true.”

“okay whatever it doesn’t matter, i don’t give two shits about people. they stare, they stare. that doesn’t change me walking you to class.” he says.

“well you need to get to yours before you’re late.”

“yeah yeah i know, meet me after school today though, ill give you a ride home.” he he says as nudges your shoulder.

“okay, bye.” you wave as he walks off.

“meet me after school.” you whisper to yourself and scoff.

you sat with an old friend in class and she mentions the homecoming dance coming early. something you’d totally forgotten about.

“oh shit you’re right. i gotta start looking.” you giggle as the teacher begins the lecture.

hours later you found yourself walking to matt’s car, where he once again stood leaned against it. once you were close he climbed in, you shortly behind.

“why are you taking me home?”

“felt like being nice.”

“oh, okay.”

“so what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked interrupting the silence.

“i just wanted to ask if you’d go to homecoming with me? i know it’s early so i figured i should get ahead.” he says turning his head to you, a blush spreading across your face.

-

“no way, no. you’re not going with him.” your mom says as you sat at the counter.

“mom, why not.” you groan.

“because, that kid is bad news y/n. i don’t trust him.”

“he’s not though, he’s perfectly fine.”

“and i don’t believe you. you can go with your friends, no means no.” she says, setting your plate down on the counter.

“whatever.” you reply, knowing you’re gonna have to text him the news within the next hour.

a short month later you found yourself all ready for the dance.

“you look beautiful.” your mom smiles as you walk down the stairs. you were meeting your friends for dinner, and still going to the dance with matt. behind her back of course, you didn’t want to tell him no.

you spent a while at the dance before you left with matt and a few friends for a bonfire by the lake, wrapped in matt’s blazer.

“can you pass me that?” he says lowly next to you as his friend tosses him a beer.

“matt, you drove.”

“i know, this is for you to drink.” he smiles.

“what?”

“come on y/n. you know you’re safe with me.” he says unscrewing the cap and handing it to you. you couldn’t find it in yourself to deny him.

you’d never drank before and considering you were 15, you were a light weight. matt being 16 you expected the same but were surprised that he decided to only have one, which hardly gave him a buzz. next thing you knew you were sat in his lap on the log, hug him onto him. things around the fire had gotten awkward with all the couples making out.

“can we go sit in your car?” you whisper to him and he agrees, helping you off his lap and holding your hand all the way to the car, knowing uneven ground and heels were a recipe for disaster.

“i brought some stuff in case of something like this.” he says opening the back doors and revealing a few blankets and pillows. you looked up at him with a hazy smile as he tossed them in the trunk and pushed the seats down, the two of you climbing in and setting up camp.

you shed the blazer, tossing it in the front seat as you laid in a comfortable silence, the two front windows cracked for airflow.

“so.” matt says, leaning up on an elbow.

“so?”

“how’s the night been?”

“oh it’s been good.” you reply, turning your head to him and smiling to see his eyes locked on your lips, you quickly turning away.

“don’t get all shy on me y/n.” he giggles, pulling you closer to him.

“sorry, you just look really good right now.” you reply.

“and you look even better.” he mumbles before attaching your lips.

the night continued in full physical contact. he learned every curve and crevice of her body carefully, paying attention to every detail. making note of what she liked and disliked. teaching her the right ways to everything. his hands held her carefully as he worshipped her under his breath, quiet whimpers and curses leaving her lips every few moments, before it all came crashing down after a long few minutes.

“you know, you didn’t have to say those things.” he giggles to you.

“well those are things i learned while i’m watching porn on my phone at night, i- i didn’t know what to do. was it bad? i’m sorry.”

“no no, my love, you were amazing. you were perfect.” he says cupping your jaw and dipping down to kiss you one more time. moments later, they’re interrupted by loud bangs on the window.

“you’re so fucking busted. it’s almost two in the morning y/n. i had to come track you down.” you hear your sisters stern voice outside the car window.

“fuck oh my god, what the hell.” you scramble, making sure your dress was on straight.

“it’s not what it looks like.” you express leaping out of the car.

“yes the fuck it is.”

“please don’t tell mom. please i’m begging you.”

“no, i’m telling her you were with him after she explicitly told you not to.”

“hey that’s no-“ he starts and is quickly cut off.

“and you kissed him, and god knows what else. god just get in the car.” she sighs, pointing to her car up the hill.

“matt im sorry, i really am.” you sigh and he nods.

“it’s okay, i didn’t know they felt this way about me.”

“you don’t exactly have good rep, rempe.” you sister spits, shoving you along. immediately you text him apologizing profusely.

your sister knew he just took your virginity. it was no mystery, the windows were fogged and dripping, your hair came undone, his buttons were crooked. she swore not to tell all the details, but in no way were you ever gonna be able to go near him again. except for in the hallways at school.

“you know he’s trouble y/n. you let him get in your pants?”

“yeah i did, and he’s not as much trouble as you think he is. he’s very nice to me.”

“it doesn’t matter. you’re not seeing him again, you hear me?” she says sternly and you sigh, resting your head against the window.

“yeah.” you reply, a tear falling down your cheek as he texted back, repeating that everything was fine.

-

“what were you thinking young lady.” your mom startles you awake.

“what?”

“you were kissing matthew in his car at the bonfire? really?” she says standing at the foot of your bed with her arms crossed.

“i’m sorry.” you sigh, tears threatening to spill again.

“what did i tell you about being around him?”

“i know mom i’m sorry, i really like him okay? he’s not how you think he is.” you reply wiping the tears that started to fall.

“yeah well, i really just don’t believe you. he’s not a good influence y/n. it’s just a warning this time, you will not see him again.” she finishes and you nod.

“you know i love you.” she says walking toward your door.

“i know, even if that’s a tough thing to believe.” you reply and she chuckles exiting you room.

and that you didn’t. you didn’t hang out outside of the school halls. all you did was text. every. single. day.

-

2022

matt knocked on the door and anxiously rocked back and forth on his heels. he knew that her sister and her mom weren’t his biggest fans. hell, you could say they hate his guts, but he knew he had to make it right.

“we don- matt? what do you want?” her mom sighs opening the door.

“i’m taking your daughter to prom.” he says firmly, a light smile on his face.

“she has a boyfriend?” her sister interjects walking up to the door.

he sighs as he looks down at the flowers.

“listen, i know you guys aren’t my biggest fans,” he starts.

“yeah, you could say that.” her sister mumbles.

“but i know this isn’t my news to air but, he broke up with her this morning. we’ve been friends for years, texting for years, whatever. she was so excited for this dance and i- i really fucking, sorry, i really care about her. i really want her to have a good night, i’d do anything to make sure she’s happy and i’d do anything to make things right with you guys.” he states heartfully.

“well.” her mom sighs, her heart seemingly growing larger for the boy that stood in front of her with a large, fresh bouquet of flowers and a nice ironed tux.

“and she doesn’t know, i wanted to surprise her, if that’s okay?”

“yeah it is. thank you matthew. we had no idea, we only saw her this morning.”

“yeah that’s about when it happened.” he replies scratching the back of his head as her mom shuts the door behind her.

“her rooms up there on the right.” she smiles lightly.

“thank you mrs. y/l/n. i really do appreciate it.” he replies making his way up the stairs, knocking lightly on the door.

“are you ready?” he says through the door.

“what?” you call back.

“can i come in?” he asks, you not recognizing the voice. you sat at your vanity with curlers in your hair and your makeup half done. you couldn’t stop crying.

“yes?”

“hey.” you see matt’s face peek through the door before stepping in, fully dressed in a tux, with a large, lush bouquet and a sweet smile.

“matt?” you say, putting down your brush, immediately standing up from your chair and walking over to him.

“i got these for you, i tried my best to match your dress.” he says looking over at the dress that hung from your closet door.

“matt.” you frown sweetly. for the first time since your freshman year, you hugged onto him, tightly. you feel him freeze for a moment before tossing the flowers onto your bed and wrapping his arms around you, picking you briefly up off the ground.

“thank you for this.” you say sweetly as you pull away, his hands still placed on your waist.

“you know i’ll always come around. anything for you.”

“really?”

“yeah, really.” he smiles, pressing a short peck to the top of your head.

“hey, we got reservations in an hour, chop chop pretty girl.” he giggles into your hair.

“i’ll be done, just give me like 30 minutes.” you reply, picking up the flowers and inspecting them.

“of course, no rush. it’s close by. i’ll be downstairs okay?”

“okay.” you smile lightly as he exits your room, your heart pounding in your chest as you got ready quickly. you zipped up your dress and grabbed the flowers, looking in the mirror at the perfect match he’d picked. you sighed in relief knowing the boy you’d been longing since you were a little girl surprised you and is waiting downstairs for you.

you breathe out as you open the door and turn the corner, walking down the stairs where matt and your mom were waiting, his eyes following you every step down.

“you look beautiful honey.” your mom sighs, looking at the gorgeous dress you’d picked out a few months ago.

“absolutely stunning.” matt says, eyes still locked on you.

“thank you guys.” you blush.

“let me get a picture of you two, uh, y/n stand on the second step, i want the full dress in without having to cut this giant’s head off.” she laughs stepping back with her camera and snapping a few photos.

“thank you for doing this for her matthew, i really appreciate it.”

“of course, anytime truly. your daughter is incredible.” he smiles at your mom, her eyes growing into hearts in an instant.

“you two have fun and be safe please.” she says, opening the front door for the two of you.

sis: use a condom, left some in your wallet ;)

you read the text aloud to matt when you got in the car, laughing at your sisters sudden approval.

“she gave you some? hell i already have some.” he laughs, backing out of your driveway.

“you know to this day, you’re the first of only three bodies that i have.”

“was i the best?”

“well i guess yeah?”

“what do you mean you guess?”

“i mean you were really the only one that paid any attention to my needs.”

“well of course, that’s extremely important to me.”

“then not i guess, you definitely were the best.”

“not were, are.” he winks, intertwining his fingers with yours in your lap.

the night was incredible. after the dance, your mom let matt come and stay over at your house, and you couldn’t believe it. he’d truly won your family over. you spent the whole night laid up in bed, kissing and touching and loving on each other for the first time since you were fifteen. everything felt the same, yet different. a mature kind of passion injected into the kisses you shared and the touches he laid on you. you would never trade his intimacy for the world. when you were with him, it’s like the world stopped spinning, and you were the last two people alive. he made your heart jump in the blink of an eye. you wanted him all along, even against your mothers wishes, and that’s something you’d never change.

“can i ask you something?” matt says as you laid contently on his bare chest.

“yes.” you reply leaning up to lock eyes with him.

“listen i know this is really really fast after this morning, and you can say no and i will understand either way but um, would you be my girlfriend?” he asks nervously and you giggle, locking your lips on his.

“yes, a million times.” you smile, speaking on his lips, reconnecting them after your brief words.

“you have no clue how long i’ve been trying to get to this point. it was hard with your mom and sister hating my guts. and you just got broken up with this morning.” he giggles.

“yeah well, i was gonna start hanging out with you again behind their backs if they didn’t start liking you. and, i’ve been wanting to be with you for years matt, nothing is too quick when it comes to you. nothing.”

-

2024

“matt.” you call out from the couch, adjusting your position trying to get comfy.

“yes my love.” he says running and sliding across the wood floor of his apartment.

“can you PLEASE get the pizza off the counter and bring it over here.” you beg.

“of course, you wanna watch a movie or something? maybe not do a whole lot of watching.” he says with a smug look on his face as he rounds the end of the couch, placing the box on the coffee table.

“how about we finish this box first and then we can talk….. or not talk.” you reply teasingly.

“i love you so much.” he smirks.

“i love you, matt.” you reply with a scrunched nose, pressing a short kiss to his lips as he got settled on the couch next to you.

over the course of the last 2 years, you’d grown inseparable, falling in love in a matter of weeks. he was there for everything. graduation and all. you hadn’t left his side since the night of your senior prom, and you fully planned on starting a life with him. which unbeknownst to him, this life you’d talked about had already begun.

“hey so, i actually had some news.” you start, finishing your slice.

“go on?” he mutters, shutting the box.

“well, fuck i wanted to make this like a big deal but i’m telling you before we fuck.” you sigh, realizing you should wait.

“no no, what is it, it’s okay baby.” he perks up, taking your hand in his.

“matt im pregnant.” you spit out, gritting your teeth waiting for a response.

“are you for real?” he says, his eyes widening, a quick nod following as a response. a huge smile grows on his cheeks as he practically jumps on you, squeezing you so tight you can hardly breathe.

“you’re carrying our baby. like our baby. wow. i can’t believe it. oh my god, i’m so lucky, i’m so excited wow. i love you so much y/n, you’re gonna be the best mom. i’ll make sure you have everything you need and so much more.” he says, his hands placed on your cheeks.

“thank you handsome, i’m glad you reacted well to that, i was nervous. thank you, i love you.” you reply hugging him back.

you were anxious to start this life with him, but you knew from the start all those years ago that you were taken care of.

ever since the day he approached you on the playground in third grade you knew he was never gonna leave you. never in a million years.

-

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Ok Buck and his two watch theory - I’m still percolating but here’s what I have so far!!

The second ‘watch’ is a fitness band - it’s a whoop band - top of the market biometrics tracking band that monitors your heath and fitness and offers you custom suggestions on how to improve things - sleep, fitness, weight etc etc.

This is not the first time we’ve seen buck go on a health kick - he’s done it periodically - the interest g tho g is when he’s gone on these health kicks! The first time we get health kick buck is in 201 - which is obviously when Eddie arrives on the scene at the 118. Now obviously we could tie it in to Eddie and buck feeling threatened by this hot new guy with a silver star - except that’s not what it is because he is already on his health kick (dhx scan!) before he knows of Eddie’s existence. Abby left Buck at the end of season 1 and this health kick is in gear in the immediate aftermath of that - almost as if he thinks that improving his body fat percentage and getting fitter, stronger, leaner etc will bring Abby back to him - that that is why she hadn’t returned - that he’s not good enough.

The second time we see a health kick is after Ali leaves him at the end of season 2 - we get buck determined to get back to work at the beginning of season 3 and therefore pushing himself harder than he should - which leads to his blood clots occurring. Buck has placed his worth in his job and therefore needs to be fitter stronger - healed - as fast as possible so he still has the one thing he has left - his job - because both of his relationships have been connected to his work so if he’s better able to do his job he’ll be more attractive to someone and then they’ll stay!

The third time is once again connected to the end of a relationship but it’s not so much about his physical health as it is his mental health - but buck did the breaking up this time instead of being broken up with. He splits with Taylor at the end of season 5 - he is the one to end the relationship. At the start of season six instead of placing his worth in his job and being fitter and stronger etc we get Buck deciding to take a different tack and he starts a year of yes, after reading a book, which does end up becoming about his physical health when he says yes to becoming a sperm donor - abstinence and alfalfa smoothie anyone?!

The sort of anomaly is his break up with Tommy - firstly because it happens in the middle of a season rather than at the end (it’s not even a mid season finale break up either) and secondly because he starts baking instead of going on a health kick. Baking is still about improving oneself - but it’s much more about learning a new skill rather than getting fitter etc. in someways it’s a continuation of the previous breakup coping tactic - in that it’s about mental improvement rather than physical and we haven’t seen it become about physical health. And before anyone tries to point out that the new fitness band is it becoming about physical heath - after they hook up in 811, reply with - the start of the fitness band wearing stems back to Eddie telling buck he’s moving back to El Paso - that he’s leaving him.

The Eddie leaving to go back to El Paso did happen at the mid season finale and we’ve returned to buck wearing a fitness band. They haven’t outright stated or even clearly shown why he’s wearing the fitness band, but this upcoming episode has it on full display so I’m hoping we’ll get to find out the reason for its existence (give me the exposition). My feeling is that it’s Buck once more trying to improve himself through his fitness and health, but unlike all of the other attempts this one has something much more permanently tangible - that band is always on him.

So whereas before all his breakups were connected to fad health and fitness regimes or as a way of improving himself through things that had a fixed date attached to them or something that is generally connected to poor health (baking as it’s cakes and breads are not really healthy) - a dhx scan is a one off thing not something you do all the time, the same for getting fit from you injury so you can get back to work and the year of yes and alfalfa smoothies have fixed time periods attached to them as well. These all speak of bucks abandonment issues being central to why he’s cycling through this behaviour pattern - in the same way getting injured as a child got his parents attention - temporarily and in an unhealthy way, these attempts to fix himself in the hope people won’t abandon him.

This time though there is no fixed time period attached to this potential health kick - the band is always on you and will feed back suggestions on improvements Buck can make on a regular basis.

The implication is that this self improvement kick is a genuinely healthy more sustained one and that it will therefore bring Eddie back to buck because he’s finally growing in a sustained way rather than a faddy way as a coping mechanism for being left or having to leave.

This is all purely speculation around a possible explanation for why the whoop band has appeared - there are all plenty of possibilities for it’s appearance on bucks wrist, including that they’re going to use the biometrics tracker as a way to have buck taking a sick day next episode when there’s nothing wrong with him - false data being provided by the tracker - which would also fit into the lying and fake theme we seem to be getting this season, especially because it’s collecting biometric data when we are seemingly going to get a biohazard incident of some kind in 814. Or it’s possible that it’s connected to the reverse - that the data buck is collecting on his biometrics helps provide information that helps put an end to the biohazard - although this seems very unlikely. It could also be an even longer game - and that it’s in some way connected to bobby and his impending death and resurrection - because a fitness tracker will only collect data if someone wearing it is alive - it can’t collect heart rate etc when there isn’t one. So if buck gets bobby involved in wearing a tracker for some reason it could either prove bobby is alive because it’s still getting data, or it could lead them to where bobby is located!

Only time will tell why we’ve now got buck wearing a fitness tracker and if I’m correct in any of my theories and speculation!!

[vivid-dreamscapes]

Two months. It’s been two months since…everything happened. The final fight. Everything was at peace now. It was just your average night as Ekko sat on the top of the bridge connecting Zaun and Piltover. He watched the sun set before turning to you with a smile. “Isn’t it such a pretty night out?” He asked, and you nodded. “It’s easier to enjoy the nights with all the threats gone. And with you.” The boy said, turning back to the sunset.

After a few more minutes, Scar came climbing up to the top where Ekko was. He sat down next to the Firelight leader, tilting his head. “Ekko, what are you doing?” He asked, voice gruff.

“Oh, Y/n and I are enjoying the sunset. We never really had the time to look at it before.” Ekko responded calmly, watching the sunset. His friend just sighed, pinching his nose bridge.

“Ekko, they’re dead. They died with Jinx, remember? You can’t keep doing this. You need to let them go.” Scar said, resulting in Ekko looking at you. But you were gone. All that was left was the small ring you always wore on your pointer finger, a gift from him. He didn’t even notice the tear rolling down his face.

!not proofread!

Sorry if it’s shitty, it’s 3:29 and I had this idea, like, five minutes ago. And I’m tired. Also, of u can’t tell, I haven’t gotten to the very final episodes of arcane yet. Idk if the bridge is still there or if scar is alive or not, but oh well. Gnight you guysss

[fcwoso]

  Silent treatment · Leah Williamson

Summary: leah gets too competitive and gives reader the silent treatment, it takes self-reflection and potato smileys for leah to come around

MASTERLIST

You and Leah just got back from Alex's house, she had organized a little get together with a couple of friends. There were some nice snacks, drinks and last but not least, board games. This immediately triggered your girlfriend in going full competition mode, not respecting anyone's existence or self-confidence. All she cared about was winning, she didn't care about your feelings. Everyone knew Leah hated losing, but it was you that had to deal with the aftermath.

You were two rounds in when Leah started looking at you with furrowed eyebrows, shaking her head while eying your hands. She was fully convinced you had cheated, which resulted in her having to quit the game. ‘’You’re not playing fair.’’ Was what she said after a minute of monitoring every move you made. You knew she was out because of a mistake she made and not because you were playing unfair. ‘’You know what? I’m going to ignore that.’’ You laughed, knowing how Leah could get overly invested in these casual games. While you had ignored Leah’s snarky comment, she for sure did not forget about how you won every round of the rest of the game. Alex couldn’t refrain herself from making fun of your girlfriend, a small scowl had replaced the usual grin she had plastered on her face. Leah tried to deny the fact that she was a sore loser, but you knew better.

The car ride home was tense, the radio was off, and Leah's hands were resting firmly on the wheel. Her jaw was clenched and the frown on her forehead didn’t go unnoticed. You couldn't help but tease her, her competitive side taking over once again. "Oh, come on. Leah, are you being serious?" You were met with silence, dead silence. With a hand on her thigh, you tried to make an attempt to lighten up the mood. Leah refused to give you an audible reply and shook her leg instead. "Okay, whatever. Loser."

You tried to hold yourself back from laughing, knowing you would piss her off even more if you did. So, you took your hand back and folded your arms to imitate her childish behaviour. After a minute or two, you saw her moving to the screen in front of her, finally deciding to put some music on. A country song was playing in the background while Leah moved her head from side to side, tapping along the rhythm of the sound that came out of the speaker.

‘’So, country music gets you in a good mood, but I don’t?’’ You asked, feeling somewhat offended by her denying physical contact, over a game. Leah shrugged and pulled over at your shared appartement. "I just don't feel like talking to you" She nonchalantly replied while taking off her seatbelt, not looking you in the eye. You huffed and left the car, closing the car door a bit harder than usual to let her know you were becoming irritated with her behaviour. ‘’This woman.’’ Was the last thing you heard Leah mumble under her breath before entering your home, you knew how much she hated when you slammed her precious car doors.

You decided to take a quick shower before posing in front of the tv, watching back a new episode of the show you’ve been following for a while now. Leah had done the same thing, except she didn’t take place on the sofa next to you. She stayed in your bedroom, mindlessly scrolling on her phone, watching random clips of the last Arsenal game. After a few minutes, she started to feel regret, realizing how much she had been exaggerating. You haven’t done anything and here she was, giving you the cold shoulder. So, Leah pushed her pride aside and got up to make her way to her most favorite person. In the meanwhile you popped some potato smileys in the oven because you were a bit hungry after the long night you just had.

''What are those?'' Leah quietly asked as she tried to peek over your shoulder, soft footsteps echoing in the kitchen. ''Are those...potato smileys?'' She asked again, feeling hurt you didn't invite her to eat them with you. You knew how much she loved them because it was almost the only thing she ate, due to her non-existent tastebuds. But then again, she was supposed to give you the silent treatment. She was failing miserably, though. "Aren't you supposed to be quiet?" You hummed, waiting for her to crack. It wasn't going to take too long now. "I changed my mind." Leah innocently replied, getting closer to where you were standing. You felt her wrap her arms around your shoulders, peppering kisses on your cheeks that had been untouched since you had arrived at Alex’s place.

‘’I’ve missed talking to you.’’ You couldn’t refrain yourself from rolling your eyes as she mumbled the words against your cheek. ‘’Did you realize that before or after you saw what I was preparing?’’ You asked, moving over to the fridge to grab a few sauces. Leah didn’t let your body go, arms still rested around your waist while she tried to keep up with your footsteps. ‘’I’m sorry for being childish.’’ She started, but noticed you weren’t content with her apology. ‘’And for being rude.’’ Leah continued. She loosened her grip on you before you felt a hand on your jaw, making you rest your head on her shoulder, eyes staring into yours as she leaned in to give you a soft peck on the lips.

‘’Can I enjoy my food now?’’ Was the only thing you said, mumbling your words due to Leah’s hold on you. She was long forgiven, but you just wanted to mess with her, because why not? Leah groaned and slightly tightened her grip, leaning in once again to give you another kiss, this one a bit harder. ‘’Babe, I’ve already apologized. You know I’m not the best…loser.’’ She spat out the last word with disgust, but you felt proud of her for putting the words I and loser in one sentence, she was making progress.

You sighed, trying to keep up with the angry façade, but failed after noticing your girlfriend was actually getting frustrated and not to forget, how she was eying the plate of potato smileys. ‘’Grab a plate, Williamson.’’ Leah’s eyes lit up as she heard the words, her hand letting your jaw go before walking over to a cupboard. You turned around and started to make your way to your cozy living room, but suddenly felt a smack on your butt, almost making you drop the food. ‘’Leah!’’ You exclaimed, shortly turning around to scold your girlfriend, but stopped when you saw the grin on her face. ‘’What? I can’t touch my lady? It’s been a while, you know.’’ She said, making you shake your head. ‘’Yeah, I know. You were being a sore loser.’’ You remembered her and sat down on the couch, putting the food on the salon table.

‘’That’s in the past now. Come on, give me a smooch.’’ Leah pouted her lips at you, closing her eyes while waiting for you to fulfill her demand. She moved closer to where you were sitting, making you lean back against the couch. You decided to inch closer as well, brushing your lips against hers before whispering, ‘’I was better than you today.’’ Leah let out a chuckle, softly brushing her nose against yours before stealing a kiss. ‘’Whatever, I don’t care anyway.’’ She said, not really succeeding in convincing you.

The blonde moved back to her usual place before munching on one of her favorite foods, not leaving any space between you two. She quietly thought of something she could beat you in, and immediately came up with an idea. Leah chewed her food away before clearing her throat, ‘’Wanna play some football tomorrow?’’

[readerihardlyknowher]

In Every Universe | Pt. 7

Fanfic-ception?

Spencer Agnew x Reader Warnings: None WC: 2,116 Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3, Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6, Pt. 7, Pt. 8

“Oh, hello all and welcome back to Smosh Pit Theater!” Angela announces as the narrator this time, “Now, we’re gonna be doing another one of our favorites – and your guys’ too – fanfictions, and let me tell you guys before we start, I heard the crew snickering while reading some of them over, so this should be good.”

She takes out the first script and holds it up to read. You try to glance over her shoulder to see who’s in the fic, but her hands are too shaky to see properly.

“Okay, first story! It’s called ‘Five Nights at Smosh’ by Smoshbadussy. I think I’ll have Chanse playing Tommy–”

“–Wow, Angela, making me play the only other gay one here.”

“Shut up! Courtney will play me, Shayne will play Amanda, and Y/n will play… Freddy Fazbear. Spencer, you and I can watch and narrate. Okay! Now let the scene begin!”

You take your script from Angela, briefly glancing over the first line to see who’s in the scene starting off, seeing that you (or well, Arasha) aren’t in the scene yet, so you step beside the curtain, not taking center stage and adjusting your black turtleneck which you haven’t worn since the last Smosh Pit Theater episode. It is late summer in LA after all, and you were thanking god for AC at this moment. As the scene begins, however, you watch as Chanse and Courtney stand next to each other, acting out the scene which you read.

“Man,” Courtney begins, “that was a great crying session! Glad we’ve got the crying bathroom here.”

“Totally!” Chanse’s voice replies. “I don’t even know how long we were in there for!”

Angela narrates the scene as Shayne (as Amanda) steps into the scene and gasps.

“There you two are!” Shayne does a terrible Amanda impression as he speaks. “I had to stay behind to try and find you! Everyone else left! We’re locked in!”

You and the rest of the cast do dramatic gasps. Deciding to read ahead, you see that Freddy doesn’t show up for a while, just doing sounds in the background for most of the beginning. You try to keep your eyes on the three of your castmates, but your eyes wander as they always do, and where do they land again? Spencer fucking Agnew. You don’t even notice that you’re staring until his eyes meet yours. Neither of you move, not looking away, not until he shoots you a cute wink and looking back at the performing cast. This causes you to look away as well, trying to remember that you’re on camera. Though, as the crew is very nice, they’ll likely just edit it so that you’re out of frame for that, which you already mostly are.

The time comes for you to enter in the scene, so you do as the script reads, sneaking up behind the three of them all huddled together. After about a beat, you jump up and “attack” Courtney before you get pushed off and stand to the side. You look down to see your line, only to stutter out a laugh as you read it.

“Roh roh roh roh roh.” The rest of the cast found the line just as amusing as you did, and you all take a moment for a confused laugh, before Shayne speaks as Amanda.

“Uh, guys, I think that’s Freddy Fuzzbear.”

“It’s not Fuzzbear, Amanda!” Chanse yells. All three pretend to run, and you pretend to chase, before you get to center stage and continue the stupidly dramatic scene. Eventually, it ends with you as Freddy killing Angela while the other two escape, which makes the real Angela upset, of course. The scene ends finally and you head back to the chairs you were at before, turning your head to smile over at Spencer.

“Did I do good?” Your still giggly voice asks. His lips part into that iconic smile of his.

“Absolutely perfect,” he replies. Your eyes are drawn to Shayne, who has now taken the next set of scripts and will be doing the casting. You watch from behind and to the side as his face lights up with shock.

“Okay. This one is called ‘April 2nd’ and it’s by Y/s/n-luvr.” You and Spencer shoot each other a familiar, yet not unpleasant expression. “Let’s have Y/n playing herself, and Spencer playing himself, Chanse will play Damien, Courtney as Amanda, and then Angela will play the priest in this story.”

You and Spencer now look confused. A priest? April 2nd? What could that mean? Your eyes narrow as you walk on stage, all of you standing in a half-circle, facing towards the camera. The scene is that you’re on Smosh Games playing together. Looking down at your script you read your line.

“Damn it, Spence, you’re wiping the floor with us! At least give me a chance to win!”

“Yeah,” Chanse says, making his voice deeper to mimic Damien. “Who knew you’d be this good at the game of life?” It’s silent as we wait for Shayne to read his next line.

“Spencer’s eyes darted around, purposefully avoiding Y/n’s.”

Spencer does as the script says, playing up the nervousness a little, before looking down at his script and reading.

“Guys, I told you I’m a gamer. Anyways, Y/n, it’s your turn.”

“Y/n’s hand reaches the spinner on the table, flicking it, moving her car forward, before pulling the card on top of the pile. Once she sees what it says, her face shrivels up in confusion.”

You perform the actions with a perfect amount of stage exaggeration, pretending to pull the card before reading your script.

“‘Will you marry me?’ I didn’t know that was a card in here.”

“Spencer steps out from behind the table, before kneeling down in front of it on one knee.”

“It isn’t, babe. I uh… I wanted to propose to you doing something we both love, playing games together.”

Your face heats up in embarrassment. Someone wrote a whole fanfic about Spencer proposing to you. And now he’s in front of you, acting it out, with all of your friends/coworkers watching with glee.

“So,” his voice cuts through your thoughts. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Spence! I never thought you’d ask!”

“Y/n jumps into Spencer’s arms in a warm and firm embrace, Damien and Amanda cheering, especially Amanda.”

You look over at Spencer, wondering how you should approach the hug. You’re certainly not going to be jumping into his arms as the script says, even if his cutely red face makes you want to do so. So instead you go for the classic side hug, perfect for on-camera romance. You figure the scene must be over now, so become confused once Shayne calls for everyone to get in place for the next positions. Shayne’s booming voice announces that today’s the day of the wedding, and you two are holding it with the Smosh cast and crew.

You gulp down the excitement/anxiety in your throat and wait to the side as the script indicates that you’re not in the scene yet again. You watch from the side as Spencer stands, waiting for you, and Shayne reads out how he’s patiently watching as you begin to walk down the aisle. Rolling your eyes, you do as the script says, rolling yours up to pretend it’s a bouquet. You try to avoid Spencer’s eyes, but fail as you see him wiping a fake teat, which makes you let out a chuckle.

As you finish your walk down the “aisle”, you stand in front of Spencer, holding your hands out as he takes them in his warm, soft ones. You say, “this feels familiar” off-script, which gets a few laughs. A soft smile is present on his face, he waits for a moment, seeming to forget about the whole idea that you’re acting out a scene, before he scrambles to pull out his script.

“Y/n, ever since I first saw you in your interview here at Smosh, I knew you were the one for me. Your laugh brightens my day, your eyes light up every room you’re in. I couldn’t have asked for a better wife. I’m so happy to officially get to call you that. I can’t wait to play videogames and watch movies with you for the rest of my life.”

You place your hand on your heart as he reads, genuinely touched by 1. The fact that someone wrote something so sweet, and 2. The fact that Spencer’s reading it out loud to you so sweetly. The look he gives you shows that while those aren’t his original words, he does mean all the kind things he’s saying, and it only adds to the tightness you’ve been feeling in your chest. Pulling in a deep breath, you look at your part of the script.

“Spencer, you’re my best friend, the love of my life, and now my actual husband–” you see the next line so you turn to look at the camera with a serious expression on your face. “Guys, don’t clip this.” Turning back to the script, you take a deep breath, before pushing the words out far too seriously than you’ve ever said the words before. “And I love you.”

“Woo!”

You shoot a glare to Chanse, before resuming your line.

“And I’ll be happy to listen to you yap about old Nintendo games until the day I die.”

“Now,” Angela’s voice softens the blow after what you said, making you feel a little less awkward having read all that out loud. “Charles Spencer Agnew, do you take Y/n (M/n) L/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?” The silly, relaxed smile spreads even wider across his face, the sight making your own body relax.

“I do.”

“And Y/n (M/n) L/n, do you take Charles Spencer Agnew to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Your own smile broadens as you don’t even need to glance down at your script.

“I do.”

“Then I hereby pronounce you as man and wife. You may now kiss.”

Shoot, you had forgotten about this, but one look at Spencer’s mischievous smile says all that you need. As the cast and crew around you clap at the scene, you both ever so slowly lean into one another, eyes closing, and just when you know people will wonder if you’ll actually do it, you pull back, pointing to the camera with a smile plastered on your face.

“Got your asses! No more ship material for you! You've had enough!”

Both Chanse and Courtney groan at the psych-out, before you all come back to the chairs and sit together for the recap of everyone’s thoughts. Shayne turns to Spencer to speak first.

“So Spencer, would you ever propose to someone on Smosh games?”

Spencer shakes his head, somehow looking all too calm at this moment. You’re certain the comments later will be noticing how you look a little too nervous from all that.

“I wouldn’t do half of the things in this story, especially not a public proposal. Keep that shit private.” Everyone, including him, chuckles at this statement, before he speaks again. “Also, I definitely wouldn’t invite you guys to our wedding.”

Our wedding.

No one seems to notice the phrasing as they all laugh, and you join in as well as to not stand out on camera. You decide to chime in a little so as to not seem too quiet.

“Also, we didn’t meet during my interview, we met officially like two weeks later. We were both a little nervous to talk to new people at first since it was such a new job and we didn’t want to screw it up.” Spencer nods and puts his finger up to make a point while looking over at you.

“While that is true, that doesn’t mean that I didn’t see you before that and fall absolutely head over heels at first glance, which is something I'd clearly do.”

You roll your eyes at his statement. You know he’s just trying to stir the pot some more and banter with you, but at this moment, you’re still a little overwhelmed with the whole getting married in character as just the two of you. But you’re glad to know that the next fanfiction is getting pulled up and neither you, nor you as a character, are in it, so you’re happy to just sit back and watch, seeing your friends do a silly little scene that someone wrote about you guys. Even if yours and Spencer’s eyes meet a few times throughout in a way which makes you strangely nervous, you feel happy, and even happier when the video finally ends.

Tag list: @lisiliely, aliceblxck, burrowedinnature77, 65percentleg