#he can’t remember who all knows and who doesn’t

[ventismacchiato]

18 stuck with you — cherry blossoms !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

MORNING AFTER

You wake up, and the remnants of last night’s drinking are still rattling around in your skull. The harsh light streaming through the windows feels like a personal attack, and the dull throb in your temples only adds to the misery. You almost don’t remember everything from the night before. Almost.

The kiss. The sight of Mona kissing Scara. Heizou’s arm around your shoulder. Scara’s eyes, watching. The way you rushed to defend yourself.

You try to roll over, but everything feels off. There's this weight in your chest, a weird, almost sticky feeling in your gut that you can’t shake. The weirdness is because of him.

After dragging yourself into the living room, hoping for a bit of quiet before leaving for breakfast, your eyes find the culprit of your headache. Scara. He’s standing by the door, looking entirely too unaffected by the chaos of last night. The cool indifference he always wears is almost infuriating. You were hoping he’d be feeling just as lost as you. 

You’ve always known Scara was beautiful. It's one of the reasons you hated him. It’s why the jealousy burned so fiercely inside you for all those years. His sharp eyes and how they managed to cut through everything, the way his features seemed too perfect to be real, it always made your stomach twist. It made you question why he had to exist in your orbit at all. 

But now…now, as you watch him, you feel that old jealousy resurfacing. But this time, it doesn’t feel the same. It feels different. 

Maybe it was never jealousy at all. The thought makes your heart skip, and before you know it, you’re staring at him.

Your gaze lingers for too long because all of a sudden he looks back at you. His usual detached expression softens for a split second, and you swear a flicker of something crosses his face. A jolt runs through your spine. Heat floods your face. You can’t help it. It’s like you’ve forgotten how to speak.

Remember. Be flirty. Show him you don’t hate him.

"Good... good morning," you stammer.

He gives you a strange look. “Morning?” he says, before walking past you.

Thankfully, the others arrive, and the group starts moving toward breakfast, leaving you in the dust. Your eyes flicker back to Scara briefly, but you immediately look away again, hoping your face isn’t burning as much as it feels. Lumine, who must’ve noticed your awkwardness, grabs your arm and pulls you back. 

"Okay, that could’ve gone better," Lumine starts, voice light but teasing, "I thought you liked him? Why were you glaring at him like that?"

You freeze, mortified. “Not so loud!” you hiss, wincing at the noise in your head. “I wasn’t glaring. I was just… staring. I tried being nice.”

Lumine raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Right. Just staring like you wanted to murder him. I thought you were going to flirt?”

You groan internally, the embarrassment already creeping up.

“That was my attempt,” you say weakly.

Venti, trailing behind, chimes in unhelpfully. “You’re hopeless, Yn. How did Xiao’s awkward ass get a man before you did?”

Xiao, walking beside you, frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

Venti flashes a mischievous grin. “I mean, come on. He can barely string a sentence together, and yet, here we are... take some notes, Yn.”

Xiao crosses his arms, scowling, but you roll your eyes, tuning out the back-and-forth. There’s something heavier on your mind.

"I know I’m awkward," you mutter, glancing down at your shoes. "But I don’t think there’s any point in flirting with him. He doesn’t like me, and honestly, I’m just hoping this feeling… goes away."

Lumine gives you a sympathetic look. 

“Even if that were true, there’s no harm in trying,” she points out, her voice gentle but firm. She doesn’t press further, though. Instead, the group continues toward the kitchen, the chatter from the other group filling the silence.

As you enter the kitchen, you scan the room. Mona’s already there, looking completely at ease, her eyes bright and unbothered. It’s a little strange, considering she was absolutely hammered out of her mind last night. You glance at Heizou too and he greets you with a smile, but there's a tiredness in his eyes that makes you pause for a moment. His usual carefree demeanor seems worn.

Because of you.

Before you can speak, a voice pipes up from underneath the table. It’s Yae’s voice, muffled but chipper, and she sounds far too cheerful for the morning after what was a particularly chaotic night. 

Childe, who was sitting from where she popped up shrieks and practically jumps from his chair. “Don’t do that!”

Yae ignores him, her voice still carrying across the room. "Guess what I just heard? Apparently, last night, Scara and Mona kissed!"

You freeze. Your stomach does a strange flip. Your eyes instinctively snap to Mona, who is sitting across from you. Her face pales as she blinks at Yae in confusion. “We what?!” she exclaims, her tone high with disbelief.

Meanwhile, Scara, who’d been silently sipping coffee, seems to shrink into his seat, his usual stoic mask barely holding up under the weight of the accusation. He looks like he wants to disappear into the floor.

“There was no ‘we,’” Scara mutters, his voice sharp with irritation. “She kissed me. I’m not an asshole to take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Mona slaps a hand to her forehead, groaning in embarrassment. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face flushed crimson.

You thought you were done with this, but hearing it said aloud still manages to send a strange ripple through your chest. You knew the kiss hadn’t meant anything, especially with Scara’s angry words from last night. It stings, even though you tell yourself it shouldn’t.

Your eyes move back to Scara. His usual guarded expression is there, but you can see the frustration beneath it. He’s trying to act unaffected, but it’s clear that he’s anything but. You wonder if that’s how you’ve always made him feel. Unreachable.

But Mona’s outburst fades, and the silence that follows feels heavier than it should. You catch Scara’s eye again, and this time, you don’t look away. Neither does he. For a moment, he raises a brow at you, and you swear his lips curve ever so slightly.

“Well, that drama was short-lived,” Yae says, breaking the tension. “Can we milk it any further, or are we done here? What about you, Heizou?”

Heizou, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, speaks up. “We actually discussed how Yn holds no feelings for me.”

Yae sighs dramatically. “Why did we bring you three here, then?”

Diluc, who’s been quietly watching, finally speaks up. “I’m having a swell time.”

“Fuck, finally,” Yae huffs, rolling her eyes. “Alright, whatever. We’ve got another activity, and I’m sure it’ll land you all a place in Paradise.”

“Is this one rigged?” Aether pipes up.

“A little,” Yae grins. “I’ll reveal it at the end. Anyway, we’re doing a Scavenger Hunt! Pairs, but since we’ve got an odd number... Heizou, you’re going solo.”

You wince at that, already guilty for rejecting Heizou’s advances all this time.

“You each get an item to collect. Shells, flowers, rocks, etcetera. Nothing too athletic. Go out and explore, and bring back as much as you can,” Yae continues, casually ignoring the obvious tension.

“But you assigned us flowers,” Scara interrupts, “All the flowers are in the woods.”

“Yes, and?” Yae smiles, unbothered.

“And the woods are up in that mountain,” Scara points out, his voice tinged with disbelief. “You want us to climb that?”

Yae simply smiles.

“I don’t like you,” Scara grumbles.

“I love you, too,” Yae laughs. “Moving on, we’ll meet back before lunchtime! Get going!”

୨୧✧

You get paired with Scaramouche, obviously, but unlike the other times you don’t find yourself too mad about it. You both knew no matter how good or bad you did at the game they’d rig it around you both, so you take your time making your way up the trail. Or what you both assumed to be a trail.

You both stood at the foot of the raging path ahead of you, mentally preparing yourselves to walk up it. Scara digs his hand into his pocket and pulls out a handful of gummies.

“I didn’t take you for a sweet tooth,” you murmur.

He scoffs, grabbing your hand with his free one and letting a few fall onto your skin. You try, and fail, to ignore the warmth of his skin upon yours.

“It’s not candy,” he says, walking ahead of you. You stare at the not candy in your palms and then at his retreating back before throwing them back. Anything to help the swirling pit in your stomach.

You don’t talk much. The silence stretches between you, both of you awkward in your own way. You’re searching for something interesting to say, but the words won’t come.

It’s not until you reach a fallen tree that Scara climbs over and reaches a hand out to you.

“Careful,” he says simply.

You take his hand, letting him pull you over, but as you do, your foot catches on a branch. You find yourself pressed against his chest, and for a moment, neither of you moves. He doesn’t pull away until you shift, pulling yourself off him.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, already embarrassed, but then his fingers brush against your cheek.

“You’ve got dirt on you,” he says, his tone surprisingly soft. “Walk slowly.”

Your cheeks burn as you watch him walk ahead, hoping the shade of the trees is doing a better job than your body at hiding the blush creeping up your neck.

Eventually, you both come across a small meadow filled with flowers. You kneel down, picking a few, letting the petals twirl in your fingers. You hear a rustling beside you, and when you look up, Scara is crouched next to you, holding a flower in his hand. 

“Here,” he hums, and before you can say anything, he tucks it behind your ear. A gust of wind carries the petals, some of them landing in his hair, and for a moment, the sight takes your breath away.

“I didn’t think sunflowers grew here,” he mutters, pulling the petals from his hair.

“Leave it,” you say, almost breathless. “It’s pretty.”

He stares at you for a long second, his eyes unreadable and a fistful of petals in his hands. He ‘s silent before he lets the petals fall into your hair. “Have them,” he says, his voice low. “They’re like you, anyway.”

You blink, unsure what to say.

“How?” you manage to ask, voice shaking slightly.

Scara eyes you for a beat before answering.

“You follow the sun,” he says, standing up and brushing off his pants. “And people can’t seem to get enough of you.”

He doesn’t look back as he speaks, his gaze fixed ahead. After a beat, he adds, almost offhandedly, “Sunflowers aren’t too bad to look at, either.”

You’re left standing there, watching him walk away, his words hanging in the air like a soft, lingering echo.

Maybe you weren’t a sunflower. Maybe you were a cherry blossom instead. Cherry blossoms fall at five centimeters per second, and you’ve been

falling

…falling

……falling

since the day you met him. Even if there wasn’t any gravity on Earth, you’d probably fall for him eleven times out of ten.

୨୧✧

You both reach the peak, breathless. Neither of you were exactly built for this. “Rock,” you manage to say, sinking onto it before Scara can even respond. The sweat trickling down your neck probably isn’t doing your attempt at flirting any favors.

He sits down beside you, letting the flowers you picked tumble to the ground. The sun filters through the trees, but you still get a decent view of the ocean. You glance to your left. Scara’s staring at it, the wind ruffling his hair.

Your head spins, but you can’t tell if it’s from the lack of oxygen or because of him. “Sorry about your mom,” you say, trying to break the silence. It’s also a way to make up for not checking in on him last night. You never did see if he was okay. You probably should’ve. He chuckles softly, the sound surprising in its warmth.

“Not your fault.” You fall quiet after that, the words you want to say stuck somewhere in your throat. “Just spit it out,” he says, leaning back on the rock, eyes still on the horizon. He always knows when you’re holding back. “If your mom hadn’t paid Mona off, would you have kept dating her?” you ask, the question slipping out before you can stop it. You expect him to scoff or brush you off, like he usually would. But his answer comes quickly

“It wouldn’t have lasted anyway,” he says, voice low. He picks a flower from your discarded bouquet and twirls it between his fingers. “We weren’t suited for each other. She hated how much I focused on work, and said I was too much. I just wish she’d broken up with me herself, though.” You nod, his words strangely comforting. “Besides,” he adds casually, “All we ever did was have hate sex.” You choke on a surprised laugh, coughing at the suddenness of it. And then…he laughs. Actually fucking laughs. The sound is so rare, you find yourself wanting to drown in it. “Prude,” he teases, watching you with a sly grin. You compose yourself, shooting him a glare. “Not a prude.” “I beg to differ.” You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat. Another question bubbles up, one you can’t resist asking. “Was she your first?” He’s silent for a beat, then answers with a firm, “Nope.” “Was she your only?” He glances at you, brows raised. “Why do you care?” Because you like him. Maybe it’s something a little more than that. Something you haven’t dared to admit to yourself yet. The answer is right there on your tongue, but you swallow it down.

 “Just being nosey,” you say, trying to brush it off. “Didn’t think you could pull anyone else.”

He shrugs, nonchalant. “She wasn’t. But after her, I stopped having casual sex.”

You scoff. “But I heard you’ve hooked up with half the industry?”

“What tabloid did you read that in?” he smirks. “You know there’s shit other than sex, right? Or do I need to give you sex ed?”

His words hang in the air, the implication making your cheeks flush with heat. You must’ve looked taken aback, because he doesn’t hesitate to press on.

“Half of them were just blowjobs backstage.”

You choke from his words again.

“God, you are a prude.”

“Shut up,” you muster out before continuing, “Don’t you miss it? I thought you liked…sex?” 

His smirk is there before you even have a chance to respond. “Well, yeah. Who doesn’t?”

You stop, unsure why you even care enough to ask. Well, you were pretty sure. You’d thought he’d just shut you out.

“What, spit it out,” He presses, and you almost want to avoid his gaze, but you can’t.

“Wouldn’t someone like you get...?” you murmur, barely above a whisper, feeling the heat rising in your neck.

He stared at you. Then he shifts, almost as if to tease.

“Do I need to explain to you what self pleasure is? Ever heard of mastur–.”

“Shut up!” You cut him off, shoving his shoulder, your heart pounding in your ears. But he just smiles, grins, really. And you can’t help but notice how that smile hits you harder than it should. 

How had you gone so long without seeing it?

By the time you and Scaramouche make it back down, your heads are clearer, and the afternoon sun is already at its peak. Lunchtime. Scanning the scene, you both realize you’ve managed to collect more of the required items than anyone else.

“We got distracted,” Venti mutters, holding up the single, sad shell he and Aether managed to gather.

“It’s no matter,” Yae waves him off with a dismissive flick of her hand. “This whole thing was rigged anyway.”

Lumine, ever observant, scans the group. “Aren’t we missing a few people?”

“Oh right, I completely forgot,” Yae laughs lightly, tapping her chin. “Heizou and Mona took off while you were all busy with the game.”

You’re a little taken aback by the news. You’d been hoping to talk to Heizou again before he left, but now... you’re not so sure. Maybe it’s better left unsaid. You’ve probably hurt him enough as it is.

Scaramouche’s reaction to his ex leaving couldn’t be more different.

“Thank the Archons,” he mutters, clasping his hands together in exaggerated relief, causing Kazuha to shoot him a bemused side-eye.

“Anyway,” Yae interrupts, snapping the group’s attention back to her, “Back to the show. Let’s see the results.” She glances around at the gathered group, raising an eyebrow. “Good grief, did any of you actually try? The one couple we rigged was the one that won.”

Xiao speaks up dryly. “You told us to collect rocks.”

“Yeah, and those,” Yae hums, tapping her chin and gesturing toward the small pebbles in Kazuha’s palms, “Are definitely not rocks. Never mind that, though.” She raises her voice slightly, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “The pair who collected the least will be spending the night on this island, while the rest of you get to go to Paradise.”

She feigns a gasp, dramatically sweeping her gaze across the group. “Congratulations to everyone except Scaramouche and Yn! You two will be spending the night here on this hell island, while the rest of us head to Paradise... including the crew!”

The others around you celebrate, but your thoughts are elsewhere.

Tonight, everyone will be gone.

And it will just be you and him.

Alone.

[00:00:00] GOODBYE INTERVIEW ONE 

YAE: So, how does it feel to go home empty handed?

HEIZOU: Honestly, I got the closure I needed.

YAE: But not the lover you wanted?

JEAN: YAE!

YAE: Sorry, sorry!

HEIZOU: [LAUGHS] It’s alright. I get it. But yeah. 

YAE: Anything you would’ve done differently?

HEIZOU: [QUIET FOR A FEW MOMENTS] Probably have gotten to know Yn a bit more. I would’ve saved a lot of money on snacks they didn’t actually like.

YAE: What a gentleman! Great send off. We’ll miss you, Heizou!

HEIZOU: [SMILES] I’m sure you will, bye.

YAE: And cut!

[00:32:10] GOODBYE INTERVIEW TWO 

YAE: So…how are we feeling girl?

MONA: I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU GUYS LET ME GET SHITFACED ON TV!

YAE: [LAUGHS] It made for great television, how are you feeling?

MONA: So embarrassed. But I’m glad I came and put on a show. Any publicity is good publicity.

YAE: And what about the ex you left on that island? Any regrets about him?

MONA: Oh believe me, a lot. But, I shall just carry on with my life! I’ve embarrassed myself enough on this hell island.

YAE: [LAUGHS] Fair enough. Any jealous feelings towards anyone else on the island?

MONA: [ROLLS EYES] You know what you’re doing. I’ve lost enough fans from trying to kiss Scara. I’ll say no comment.

YAE: Well, I tried folks. Goodbye, Mona!

MONA: Mwah!

YAE: CUT!

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

me googling where sunflowers and cherry blossoms grow and then realizing it isn’t that deep so just pretend for me okay thanks

scara taking an edible to try and flirt he’s so real

peep the lyrics in scaras story like YN OPEN UR EYES but yeah at this point yn is coming to realize scara might like them back 🤭

kinda insecure about this chapter so pls lmk if u liked 😣 pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — i’ve gotten like 8 hours of sleep in total last week i’m lowk goin thru it guys i hate college 😭 pls send me asks about swy or anything i need motivation i’m bashing my head into da wall as we speak

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

[margeoww]

Hiii, could you maybe write a Toto Wolff fic, where he’s super busy with work and stuff and forgets their anniversary or the reader’s birthday and she is like so close to leaving him, but he like can’t live without her and promises to be better?? Like very angstyyyy but with a happy ending. <333

The Time We Almost Lost

back to my main masterlist

pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: when Toto Wolff forgets one of the most important days in your relationship, his world begins to crumble as you decide you can’t keep being an afterthought.

warnings: Angst with happy ending!!

a/n: sorry for making this so short 💔

The silence in your shared home had become suffocating, its weight pressing down on you with every passing second. Once, this space had been alive, a sanctuary of shared laughter, quiet moments of intimacy, and conversations that stretched long into the night. Now, it was a hollow reminder of everything that had changed.

Your birthday had come and gone, unacknowledged by the man who once made it his mission to make every moment feel special. The once-vivid memories of his handwritten notes, surprise dinners, and whispered promises had faded into a distant ache. The untouched cake sat on the counter, mocking you with its cheerfulness, its candles still perfectly intact, waiting for a celebration that never came.

You had told yourself you wouldn’t cry. But as you sat alone, your hands clasped tightly around a glass of wine, the dam broke. Silent tears fell, their warmth streaking your cheeks as you stared into the empty room. How had you let it get this far? How had you become invisible in the eyes of the man you loved?

When Toto finally came home, it was well past midnight. You heard the soft jingle of his keys, the door creaking open, and the familiar rhythm of his footsteps in the hallway. A pang of anger shot through you, sharper than the sadness you’d been nursing all night.

He hesitated at the doorway to the bedroom, his tall frame silhouetted by the dim light from the hall. —Liebe? —he called softly, his voice laced with exhaustion.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your robe wrapped tightly around you, the charm bracelet you’d bought yourself resting in your palm. The anger you felt earlier was a simmer now, dull but present.

—I came home as soon as I could. —he started, his tone cautious as if he already sensed the storm brewing. —I know I’ve been…

—Busy? —you interrupted, the bitterness in your voice slicing through the air. You stood, fixing him with a glare that made him stop in his tracks. —Go on. Tell me how you’ve been busy.

Toto sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. —You know how much is going on with the team right now. I don’t want to make excuses, but…

—Then don’t. —you snapped, cutting him off again. —Because I’m tired of hearing excuses, Toto. I’ve been patient. I’ve tried to understand, but last night… Do you even realize what yesterday was?

He stared at you, confusion clouding his features. And then it hit him. His eyes widened, and his shoulders slumped as he whispered. —Scheisse.

Your chest tightened at the confirmation. —That’s it? Scheisse? —You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. —You forgot my birthday, Toto. You didn’t call, didn’t text, didn’t even notice when I didn’t say a word all day. Do you even care anymore? Or am I just… someone who happens to live here?

His face crumpled at your words, guilt etched into every line of his features. —Of course, I care. You’re everything to me.

—Am I? —you challenged, your voice trembling. —Because it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve been putting in all the effort, waiting for you to remember I exist, hoping for scraps of your time. But I can’t do it anymore, Toto. I can’t keep feeling this invisible.

He stepped closer, his hands outstretched as if reaching for you would keep you from slipping away. —Please, don’t say that. I know I’ve let you down, but I…

—You’ve let me down for months. —you interrupted, your voice cracking. —This isn’t just about last night. It’s about every night I’ve spent eating dinner alone, every morning I’ve woken up to an empty bed, and every time I’ve wondered if I’m even a priority in your life anymore.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, his usually composed demeanor cracking under the weight of your words. —You are a priority. —he said, his voice breaking. —I’ve been so caught up in work, in trying to keep everything together, that I didn’t see what it was doing to us. To you. But I see it now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.

You folded your arms across your chest, trying to hold yourself together. —Words aren’t enough, Toto. I’ve heard them before, but nothing ever changes. I need more than promises. I need you to prove that I matter to you.

He nodded, his jaw tightening with determination. —I will. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… don’t leave me.

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion in his eyes, shook you to your core. You wanted to believe him, wanted to trust that this time would be different. But the wounds he had left weren’t easily healed.

—You’re asking for something I’m not sure I can give. —you whispered. —You’ve broken my heart, Toto. And I don’t know if I can keep putting the pieces back together on my own.

His hands trembled as he reached for yours, his touch tentative. —Then let me help you. Let me be the man you deserve. I know I’ve failed you, but I’ll spend every day proving that you’re the most important part of my life. Just… don’t give up on us.

The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken fears and fragile hopes. Finally, you let out a shaky breath, your tears spilling over as you whispered, —I don’t want to give up on us. But I can’t do this alone, Toto.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you might disappear. —You won’t have to. —he murmured. —I promise, you won’t have to.

[multiheadcanons]

REQUEST: TF2 MERCS AND FOOD

scout: okay, we’re gonna breeze past all scout knowing is twerk be bisexual eat hot chip and lie. we’re gonna hold that space, and now we’re gonna move on. scout can cook a bird like a son of a bitch. he can roast a turkey like nobody’s business. he cannot cook anything else. he has successfully made a turducken. heavy handed with the pepper. master spatchcocker. he puts like no effort into it and the bird just snaps. he’ll cook when he’s pissed at medic so he can cut up bird carcasses and tell him his doves are next. really, he’ll eat anything. except sushi. he hates the texture of raw fish.

soldier: he keeps an emergency stash of MREs in his room. normally not allowed in the kitchen. is allowed on the grill. he will use a thermometer when he cooks meat. no american is above salmonella. he is kind of picky, but doesn’t complain since he’s normally not cooking. he doesn’t like soups. doesn’t like anything too soft, really. he would like to work for his calories.

pyro: NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN. NOT ALLOWED WITHIN TEN FEET OF THE GRILL. CHASE THEM OFF IF SEEN IN THOSE LOCATIONS. pyro has not been, is not, and will never be willingly allowed near the cooking areas since the base fire of ‘74. nobody likes to talk about it. it was a bad day for everyone involved. if pyro begs, they might get to mash garlic. pyro genuinely only knows twerk be bisexual eat hot chip and lie. pyro LOVES spice. the hotter the better. willingly eats ghost peppers raw. and, contrary to popular belief, pyro hates sweets. doesn’t like the taste of sweet and how it coats their mouth. a sweet treat is very rare for them. they like a good pumpkin pie, or a nice sweet potato if they absolutely need something sweet. even fruit sometimes is too much. they like kiwis and pineapples because they sting a little. allergic to carrots

demo: demo is a master of meat. butchering, trimming, dressing, marinating, seasoning, roasting, frying, baking, pan searing. any way in which meat could be cooked demo can and has cooked it that way. once tried to cook a pork roast with a bomb. came back with soldier and tried to cook another one with a rocket. he is a scientist, and he likes to play with his food too. hates sour stuff. he can feel it in his eye socket. otherwise not picky about food. loves blueberries. hates raspberries. tries weird food combinations for his ratatouille moment. will physically fight anyone for the last piece of pizza.

heavy: soup master. cooks for twenty seven every time it’s his turn to cook. has a crazy mental catalogue of every soup known to man and can make a different soup every time. also is the one who knows exactly what is in the fridge at all times and when it will expire. resident grocery shopper with snipes. his job is to have the list prepared so all snipes has to do is take the list and not deviate. it takes them about a week of planning everything down to the budget. not very good with meats, but he can get it cooked. just may be overdone. sensitive stomach, can’t just eat garbage and be fine. there’s something about watching him read and absentmindedly eat grapes as he does so. forces pyro to eat fruit. like chases him around with an apple. his dedication from nutrition came from medic. he found the science behind it interesting, and thinks that caring for your body is one of the best things you can do for it. insane spice tolerance, but he hates spice. get this man on hot ones. his favorite spice is coriander. he likes saying it.

engineer: engie is a master at some good comfort food. he remembers his mama, god rest her soul, telling him as a young boy if he likes to eat he better like to cook. and buddy, does he love to cook. can make a sourdough starter from scratch. his favorite meal to cook and eat are chicken and dumplings. everyone fights for the chicken and dumplings. everyone begs him to make the chicken and dumplings. he’s so extra, he shapes the dumplings into hearts. like his mama used to do on his birthday. everyone eats that shit up they love engie when he’s in the kitchen. always willing to learn a recipe for someone, and the designated chef for birthdays. everyone normally wants the same thing on their birthdays, so it’s a fairly easy job. killer cornbread maker. medic once begged him to make an eggs benedict. he’d never tried before, but gave it a go. it came out pretty okay!the doctor would’ve appreciated it if everything were burned to a crisp, though. he was desperate.

medic: NOT ALLOWED IN THE KITCHEN. NOT ALLOWED WITHIN TEN FEET OF THE GRILL. KILL WITH EXTREME PREJUDICE IF FOUND IN THESE AREAS. medic should never be allowed in a kitchen. he’s messy, he’s chaotic, he enters and exits a room in whirlwinds, his hands are normally bloody. is has a basic grasp on cooking. pretty okay on the grill, but after the base fire of ‘74 he and pyro got banned. not picky at all, just has foods he likes more than others. has tried human meat in a taco. he didn’t mind it! a little too tough for him. might make a better burger. he likes to play in food too much to be given the responsibility to cook. he can help if he wants to, though. normally he brings alcohol and that’s his contribution to team dinners. a good bottle of wine or a 12 pack of beer. loves the concept of edible flowers. he and pyro will ruin a meal by demolishing that shit in edible glitter. please keep them out of the kitchen. he loves a good eggs benedict but he’s the only one who can consistently make hollandaise sauce and properly poach an egg. and he’s not allowed in the kitchen. so the days of the benedict of eggs are gone. eats sauerkraut out of the jar.

sniper: kitchen and grill bodyguard. will fire a warning shot once before headshotting the Banished. past that, you didn’t hear it from me, but snipes is a phenomenal baker. he‘s got a kiss the cook apron. he’ll only bake if he’s the only one in the base. the team will come back from whatever they’re doing to fresh pastries. warm bread. cookies baked to perfection. then he walks in and goes “oh, who did all of this” and the whole team won’t know. but as he watches them dig in, it warms his heart a little. he wishes that they would stop groaning when they ate though, he’s pretty sure they’re not that good. heavy is the only one who has intuited that it’s sniper making the pastries, but sniper doesn’t know that he knows. he keeps the secret though. resident grocery shopper with heavy. his job is to get them in and out of the store as fast as possible with no room for impulse buys. he and heavy are the only ones with enough discipline to resist going over the budget. lets heavy get the produce while he sprints for everything else. their record time is 30 minutes excluding checkout. brutal shopper. will casually move your cart, and you, to get what he needs. sometimes he will begin it with excuse me. but he’s not on the clock. he is trying to get out of there as fast as possible. has also tried human meat. not bad! he’d eat it if he had to.

spy: of course spy knows how to cook. he’s great at it. but do you think he’s actually cooking? he’s only in that kitchen when it’s fend for yourself night, and he does not show pity. yes he does make ratatouille. has a very refined palette. unless he himself is sick. then he’ll literally drink bath water if he can keep it down. once cried when eating a soup heavy made. it was the best thing he’d tasted in his life. keeps a snack basket and carafe in his room so he doesn’t have to be seen in the kitchen. loves some spice, but has a low spice tolerance. he’ll still eat a chili raw. he’ll never admit it but he loves getting to try everyone else’s cooking. it fascinates him, at least if they’re decent cooks. feels a little bad he’ll probably never get to try medic’s cooking. he’s sure the man knows his way around a bratwurst. jam and marmalade connoisseur. his favorite is orange. will literally moan over a good croissant and jam. loves his french breakfast of a croissant, a coffee and a cigarette.

[tonysbed]

Secrets I keep | Part 2

Max Fewtrell x Norris!reader

Lando Norris x Sister!reader

Daniel Riccardo x Norris!reader

summary: You and max have been dancing around your feelings for years but jealousy gets the best of us all..

not proofread

series masterlist | masterlist | previous | next

-

“I hate people” You say as you sit down at the small table in Daniel’s kitchen. He sets breakfast on the table and raises an eyebrow “I know, but why now?”

You turn your phone to him and show him the post that kika had send you earlier in the morning “Is it that unbelievable that two super attractive people are friends?” You chuckle at his words which makes him smile.

It slowly fades “Has lando said anything to you about it?” You shake your head but lean a bit back “Actually.. He did ask me yesterday what we are” Daniel raised an eyebrow “Really? And how did that go down?”

“Told him we’re friends. Then I asked why. He said he was just wondering and then told me to forget he asked” You shrug and take a bite of your breakfast.

“Hm. A tad weird no?” He says, sipping his coffee. You shrug “He can believe whatever he wants. And he’ll know where to find me if he has questions” Daniel nods and focuses back on his food.

“So, what is the plan for today?” You ask curious “Well, I’d say finally going to let you hold a koala and I got an invite to a party. You know these people too” He says with a smile. You smile wide “Koalas? Finally!” He chuckled “That’s the only thing you heard, hmm?”

“Absolutely. But yeah we can go. What kind of party?” He shrugged “just a party. nothing fancy” “no fancy clothes?” He shakes his head “Thank god. I didn’t pack fancy”

“As if we couldn’t just go and buy something” You roll your eyes at him ���Finish up. I wanna see koalas” “Relax, they won’t run away” “You never know”

-

danielriccardo

liked by yn, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1m others

danielriccardo she finally got to hold a koala! and meet someone who looks happier than her 🐨👀

*tagged yn*

yn happier than me? more than you. You’ll get wrinkles from smiling this much

danielriccardo Im only smiling because you’re here

yn charmer much?

danielriccardo always for my favourite girl

yn dont make me blush, riccardo

danielriccardo 😁

user @/landonorris ???

user tagging lando as if he’s stupid

user he can read yk

landonorris are you ever coming home, or what? 😂

yn never. this place is to beautiful

landonorris daniel, i’d like my sister back

danielriccardo can’t do anything, sorry mate

user now why is he so close to her.. 👀

user sure, friends

user woman and men can be friends yall

*liked by yn*

-

yn added to their story

[caption 1: night out 💙 caption 2: I expected more patience from him.. he stood there for 20 minutes..]

franciscagomez girl, you’re telling me you two aren’t a thing??

yn yeah?

sure…

yn why is everyone so weird all of sudden. I’ve visited daniel alone before

that was different..

yn sure.

landonorris be safe please!!

yn will be. i’m with daniel, remember?

yeah that doesn’t calm me down..

yn ttyl 🫶🏻

yeah yeah 🤍

-

Drinks had been flowing for a good amount of time. It was safe to say that neither you nor Daniel were on the sober side. You stood next to him, while he was sitting on a chair, explaining something to the guy next to him.

One of your friends, who was rather clumsy, pushed you over and right into Daniel’s lap. You let out an surprised squeal and hold onto his shoulders for support. In an instinctive way, his arms wrap around you and leans against you in his drunken state.

You smile at the filming person who is laughing along you, while the friend who fell tried to get back up, which was even harder while laughing.

You helped her and watched them go to the bathroom. You now finally look at daniel, who’s lap you were still seated on. He raised an eyebrow and smirked.

“If you wanted to sit, you could’ve just said something.” You laugh and turn to face the rest of the group “You’re an idiot”

“I’ve been told before” He laughed and you felt his thumb caressing your side. You sigh and let your head fall on his shoulder “Should we go home?” You hum “My feet hurt” “Told you to go in sneaker” “Shut up” He chuckled “I’ll call a cab”

-

You stumbled into the door and steadied yourself on daniel’s arm. You kicked off your shoes “I’m so dead” “Me too. Sleep?” “100%. I’m eating tomorrow.”

He nods and kicks off his shoes as well. You flop down on the couch “that’s not your bed” “I’m to lazy to walk there” He laughed and stumbled over to you. Before he could say anything, you moved and held up the blanket, inviting him.

“Not the plan but sure” He laid down next to you, looking at you. You make him turn and lay on his chest “Definitely comfortable” You mumble before your knocked out cold.

He laughs softly before closing his eyes as well.

-

Lando had been kind of worried about you. He knew how daniel could get when he was drunk. He had stopped the aussie from doing stupid things before while partying. He let his head fall backwards with a groan.

Max looked up from his phone and sighed “Just text her” “So I’ll get the same answer as before? No thanks”

Max rolls his eyes “I’ll be on stream if you’ll need me.” He got up and walked into his streaming room. Lando stayed on the couch. It was already late in australia, he knew that. You should’ve been back already.

His phone lights up and he sees his mothers name.

‘Did you know about this?’ Attached was a picture of you, sitting on daniel’s lap.

He opened the message

Lando sets his phone down. The picture engraved in his mind. This was out of character for you. Or was it? Did he even know who you were? Were you as close as he thought?

His thoughts were interrupted by Max poking his head in the door “Should we order some food? I’m starving” Lando nods “Sure”

“What’s up with you?” Lando shakes his head “Still about Yn and daniel?” “There is a picture from tonight..” Max raised an eyebrow as lando picks up his phone and shows it to max.

Max’s fists clench at his sides and he has to restrain himself from a sarcastic comment “Oh”

“Why would she lie? I mean, she could’ve told me! I’d rather know from her than the internet” “I’m sure she’ll explain.” “I hope.” “Let’s order food and get your mind off a bit.”

-

You had woken up with a raging headache. You tried to sit up, which didn’t work. You look up and see Daniel’s sleeping face. You feel his arms still wrapped around you and pause. Why in gods name are you in this position?

You gently lift his arms and slip out of his arms. You get into the guest bedroom and put your phone down to charge. While your phone was charging, you got some ibuprofen, water and set some down on the couch table in front of sleeping Daniel.

Your phone finally turns on. You’re horrified when you see missed calls from your mom, and texts from various people. You check your moms messages first and freeze again. When did that happen? You on Daniel’s- The fall.

Oh great.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and try calling your brother. It was around midnight in the uk so you weren’t sure he was going to pick up.

“Yn?” “Lando! Oh thank god. Thought you might be sleeping” “no, i’m not. I can’t sleep actually” You hesitate “The picture-“ “I don’t wanna hear it. Why would you lie to me?” “Lando-“

“no. you go and say you’re friends and that’s what I see? Who are you trying to fool here?” “We are just friends!” “sure as hell doesn’t look like it”

“Lando. We were drunk. I was pushed and landed there” “Sure. Well, good to know you’re okay. I’m going to bed.” “Lando please” The line goes dead and you sigh. Great.

You go and call your mother, who was a bit more understanding but still didn’t quite believe the story you told her.

A knock on the door startled you “yeah?” Daniel slowly opened the door “You okay?” You nod “Headache is getting better. Did you take your ibuprofen?” He nods “So..there’s-“ “A picture yeah. Mom and lando already ripped me one.” He sighed and sat down next to you on the bed.

“It is so out of context! This is really annoying.” He nods again and looks at his hands. You stand up “I’m gonna go and eat something. You coming?” “Yeah”

This time, the kitchen was silent. Neither of you knew what to say after last night.

-

“So when is he supposed to be here?” You ask Daniel as you put on your hiking shoes “Any minute. Oscars quite on point when he’s supposed to be there.” In that moment the doorbell rang.

Oscar stood there, smiling softly “Good morning you two! How have you slept?” You roll your eyes “Fine. We really shouldn’t have had that many drinks tho” Oscar chuckled “Yeah I saw. What did Lando say?”

You three make your way downstairs “He wasn’t mad about the sitting in his lap thing at all. He thought I was lying tho when I told him we’re just friends, which isn’t a lie. We’re really not together. Nothing.” You say defeated.

“I’m sure he’ll calm down and you’ll get to talk to him.” You nod “I hope. I really didn’t lie to him” Oscar pats you on the back “It’ll be alright. He’s bark no bite”

Daniel laughs “That’s what i said too! He couldn’t be mad at you forever even if he tried. He loves you way to much” Oscar nods in agreement “He’s always talking about you. Sometimes I feel like I know you better than Lando” You chuckle at that.

“Ill text him once we get back”

-

yn

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, danielriccardo and 926.467 others

yn when in australia ☀️

*tagged oscarpiastri / danielriccardo*

oscarpiastri my hair oh god

yn I loved it 😂

danielriccardo yeah, i’m sure lily loved it too 😂

oscarpiastri I hate you both

yn 🧡

danielriccardo never going on a hike with you ever again

yn why? I made it to the end

oscarpiastri after laying on the floor and refusing to get up because you know who is ignoring your messages

yn now that is mean

danielriccardo no, just the truth

user Is lando ignoring yn??

user I would too if my sister would have something going on with my friend

user we don’t even know if they do

user have you not seen the pictures??

user and? you need to chill out. not every woman who has a guy as friend wants to date him

*liked by yn*

user see? she even liked the comment.

user the difference between daniel and oscar 😭

user daniel is so boyfriend coded

-

Daniel closed the trunk and made his way to the driver seat. You stare out of the window. Neither of you have actively acknowledged what had happened the night before. The hike with oscar took your mind off it all a bit but you were sure. You had to get to lando before it all gets to his head.

The ride to the airport was quiet. Only as you finally made it and Daniel got your stuff out of the trunk, he finally looked at you.

“Here” “Thank you” “I’ll bring you to your gate” You nod and you both walk in silence. It wasn’t as comfortable as it had been a few days ago.

As you arrived at your gate, you hug him. You stay like that for a few moments before you pulled away.

“yn?” “Daniel” He looks at you a bit nervous “We’re good, right?” You smile softly “Yeah, we’re good. I’ll text you when I land.” He nods “Have a good flight” You wave at him as you leave.

caption: Home sweet home 🇲🇨❤️

franciscagomez weren’t you supposed to be back in like 5 days?

yn lando is ignoring me because of the picture. There’s more to that.

oh..hope you guys figure it out. Gossip sesh w alex soon?

yn 100%

-

Max got a bit mean, oops. Let’s see what she’ll do and what Lando does next 👀

I’ll try posting every 1-2 days. I don’t do tag lists btw

[parker-artio]

The idea of Steph being a med student cracks me up. Because this girl stays up all night beating people up, gets maybe two hours of sleep before she’s getting up for her 7am class on human anatomy.

She starts working in Gotham’s City’s ER as a volunteer student so she doesn’t have to take an extra class and can just take the test at the end of the year for the credit. One day she shows up and sees her patient is a thug she bullied last night while kicking his ass.

She might never show her face in his room again.

When she barely passes a test with a C- she wants to cry when Alfred asks how her test went, but Alfred reassures her, saying it’s good, and that she still passed. But Bruce always catches a stray or two when her major gets brought up. No way he wouldn’t.

Alfred: Congratulations Miss Stephanie, it might only be a C but it is still passing!

Steph: Thanks alfred but I feel like I could be doing better

Alfred: At least you’re sure you want to be a doctor. You haven’t dropped out and you’re passing your classes. That’s what matters.

Bruce at Wayne Enterprises in the middle of a board meeting, feeling a chill go down his spine: something just happened…

Plus there��s the added joke of her being called dumb, lazy, ect from Damian (he insults her so much I can’t remember them all rn)

Damian: What’s that Brown? Can’t shake your head in fear your brain will rattle around in there?

Steph thinking about her biology test tomorrow she got maybe 10 minutes of studying in for since it was announced last month: Shut the fuck up.

Thugs would hate to see her. Like genuinely HATE seeing her during finals season. They don’t know anything about these bats, but they all agree if it’s final season and you see a blonde haired bat in purple- you’re fucked. Run as fast as you can unless you want a concussion and her to ask where all your pain is.

None of the super villains in Gotham ever remember mentioning they have any kind of health issues, yet somehow she always knows. The purple bat who goes by too many names, just KNOWS.

Riddler about to pull the lever for something dramatic: Well you failed to answer my riddle so-

Steph cutting him off: Your skeleton

Riddler: wrong it’s-

Steph cutting him off yet again with a heavy sigh: Listen Nigma, you have to calm down for once. Your blood pressure hates you, slow down on the salty and fatty foods. Do you smoke? Because if you do, slow down on that too. Or just quit. And the actual answer is bare-bones. But synonyms of the answer should work too.

Riddler who’s doctor told him he was at risk for high blood pressure but ignored it: I- no… I don’t smoke.

Steph: …

Riddler: I quit years ago!

Plus she’d totally access Alfred’s medical records to learn little things about the others to annoy them with. She’d be elbow deep and learn that Dick’s left ankle was injured at 12 and is prone to injuries because it never proper medical attention because he avoided Alfred when he first got hurt.

She’d bring it up in conversation too.

Steph, after Dick pisses her off and she’s walking away: What your step, Boy Wonder, it’d be a shame if your left ankle got broke because of its fragility…

Dick unsure where she learned that: …what

The whole concept of her as a med student makes me laugh and I wish more people looked at it and thought about the humor and jokes that can go with her being one.

It’s peak comedy to me, I need more fics of her just being a broke college student who’s tired of thugs attacking her when she’s trying to study for her test on patrol. She’s sitting on top of W.E. Reading her anatomy book for her first class at 7:30 while her four other books are underneath. Why she has a test in all of her classes on the same day, she doesn’t know. Will she pass them? Who the fuck knows. But if that bat signal goes off again tonight she might break into the police precinct and give them a piece of her mind.

[girl-lostconnection]

Continuation that I promised to come back with as a response to this ask

The Lad

Simon doesn’t think much before choosing military. He’s never been much for academics and military at least guarantees some stable income.

Yeah, at the expense of his health and possibly life but well, at least he gets to make something out of himself. (At least he gets away from home and dad and heavy Manchest skies)

Simon can’t stand the thought of you “settling” for him.

Because you are bloody brilliant, you are soft and beautiful and strong. And impossibly, you love him.

You haven’t said it yet, you are keeping it close to your heart but you don’t need to — it’s something even he can see.

Simon wants to be something worthy of that love.

He wasn’t sure what he expected when he announced that he’s going away to serve in military but it definitely wasn’t this panicked look in your eyes and trembling hands because hey…hey hey hey, it’s okay, love, it’s not permanent, yeah? He will come back to you, of course he will, sweetheart, do you think he’d just leave the best thing ever happened to him?

Darling, you are everything and he’s just a kid from a broken home and broken family and he wants to be something. He wants to feel that he actually deserves all that love and care.

He wants to know that he is something to be proud of, that you won’t be wasting away with someone like him.

Your future is bright even if you don’t get into fancy university or college, but Simon is bottom of the barrel in the grander scheme of things.

He wants to work for his place by your side.

He wants to come back and know that he deserves be with you, that he deserves to ask for you to stay with him. Forever and always.

But it all can wait because for now he wraps himself around you — tall and lanky, sharp angles softening around you, short tight kisses to the crown of your head.

He’s gonna come back, love, he promises.

Simon holds you tight and ignores the way his own eyes sting because god, the time would crawl while he’s away from you. Because he never wants to spend another day without you but he knows that if he doesn’t do something to prove to himself and everyone else that he can make something of himself…he will regret it for the rest of his life.

So he rasps out “write to me, will ya, luv?”, thumbs swiping away your tears, backpack slinged over his shoulder, your scarf wrapped around his neck.

And he’s so scared, he’s so fucking scared because it will take him at least few years before he can come back. And what if you meet someone else? What if someone who’s already worthy of your softness comes by when he’s out there bleeding and clawing his way up?

What if he comes back changed and you won’t want him anymore?

What if-what if-what if-what if.

But you kiss him before he goes and it’s salty from tears, it’s desperate and it’s so hungry he remembers that even if you didn’t have anyone you two always had each other. Nothing would change it.

All he can do is jump off the cliff and hope that his wings appear on the way down.

You are both crying when he finally gets on the bloody bus, eyes red-rimmed and noses sniffling but you pepper his wet face with kisses, hiss that he has to come back, that you will kill him if he won’t.

And Simon can’t help but laugh — sound wet and gurlgy from the mucus and all the water but he’s smiling again, eyes impossibly soft because god, you truly are something, aren’t you, love?

“You are magic, luv. Never forget tha’. Never forget me, olright? I’ll come back”, he sounds almost reverent, voice thick with devotion and something else, hands holding your face like the most precious thing in the world.

He’ll come back. Just wait for him, okay?

Goodbye, love.

And goodnight.

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Cat Distribution System

Part 1 | AO3 | *This is a story told in scenes and can be read in any order though is listed in chronological order on the masterlist.

A jaw-cracking yawn split your face. You were lying on the couch in the living room waiting for the sun to rise. It had been a late night at work. You had to stay later than normal for the scheduled deep cleaning. The clock showed 6:27 when you rolled to a stop outside the house you shared with the guys.

You had scheduled yourself off tonight, knowing you would need the time to recover. Today’s goal would be to stay awake for as long as possible. Scrolling through your apps, eyes bleary you hear a sound from further in the house that you aren’t familiar with. Sitting up you find a fresh-faced bleach blonde clicking down the hall in clubbing heels.

Vaguely you remember Kyle mentioning that he would be going out with some friends last night.

“Oh!” The blonde stops short at seeing you. Probably the bags under your eyes making you look like a zombie.

Curiosity satisfied, you shift to lay back down.

“When Kyle mentioned he was in a polyamorous relationship I didn’t realize that included with a,” her lip curled up and away from her teeth as she bit into the word like a rotten peach, “woman.”

Did this bitch just…?

“And when Kyle mentioned he was going out to get his dick wet he didn’t mention it would include dragging a mannequin home.” You glare up at her from the back of the couch.

Johnny appears from the kitchen, muscles on full display as he scratches at his chest under his sleeveless workout shirt. Blondie’s gaze raked up and down Johnny’s form appreciatively.

Now you weren’t a jealous person but if you could hurl yourself over the furniture before Johnny caught you would have thrown her out of the house yourself.

“How copy?”

Bless that man and his instant understanding of the tension in the air like nitroglycerin on a bumpy road. He crossed the room and settled in behind you on the couch, placing a kiss on your head.

“Fine. The trash was just taking itself out.”

The blonde’s mouth popped open as she gaped at you.

“No one likes day-old fish, now out,” you flick your fingers to the door.

She stamps her foot and makes a noise of shock.

“How did someone like you,” nasty emphasis on the word you, “End up dating men like him and Kyle?”

Johnny tensed, ready to fight your battles.

“You ever hear of the cat distribution system? Well, sometimes it assigns things other than cats, like me. I got assigned to five of the hottest military men in the county and you?” Dragging your eyes from her toes peeping through with chipped polish to the dark roots coming through on the top of her head, “Wouldn’t get picked even as the last bitch at the shelter.”

With no good rebuttal to that, because there really wasn’t one, the blonde saw herself off and slammed the door behind her.

Turning you find Johnny, slack-jawed staring at you.

“What?” You ask him, concerned.

“I didn’t know you had it in you bonnie.”

“To be a bitch? Course I can. I also haven’t slept in rolling up on twenty-four hours so that doesn’t help.”

He pops both hands onto your cheeks and gives you a kiss that leaves you blinking back into reality by the time it is done.

“Do you have a degradation kink I didn’t know about Johnny?”

“Yes.” This reply comes from Kyle.

He looks no worse for wear after his night with the bitch you threw out. He looked remarkably put together for someone who had a nighttime visitor actually, with hair laid down nice, a maroon shirt, and dark wash jeans.

“Ah fuck off Garrick!” Johnny snapped.

“Where did your last girlfriend go, Kyle? I really liked her!” You whine as you lean back into Johnny.

“France.”

“Well, can’t you convince her to come back and join the polyq? I’d happily sleep with her. Your one-night stands are not nice to me.”

Johnny tugged on your earlobe.

“I’ve got dibs next bonnie.”

“I know you do. All I’m saying is I don’t think I’d need to be ovulating to let her peg me.”

Kyle barked out a laugh as Johnny dropped a smiling kiss to the top of your head.

Johnny murmured his love for you into your hair. Kyle crossed the room to drop a kiss on your lips.

“I love you, sweet girl. I’ll reach out and let her know you’re interested.”

“You don’t need to do that but at least stop bringing home dates that don’t believe you’re polyamorous maybe?”

Johnny piped up here, “Yeah Kyle, maybe you should start kissing any of us before you leave with a girl.”

“You just want more kisses, Johnny,” Kyle teased him.

“Fuck right I do,” he leaned forward.

You can’t help but smile as you watch Kyle and Johnny kiss. They love each other, and they love you, and you love them. This house held so much love you swore it had to have settled into the walls.

Gary appears, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He glances over the kissing men and your relaxing position on Johnny. The weight of his body settling on yours, head resting on your collarbone as his arms wrap around you makes the moment that much sweeter.

You drop a kiss to his forehead, “Morning Gary.”

You get a grumble of sound as a reply.

Movement draws your face back to Kyle.

“I’ve got some errands to run this morning. Can I get a kiss for the road?” His plush lips are quirked in a small smile.

“Of course!” You chirp, the hand closest to him lifting to his face while the other stays resting on Gary’s back.

Kyle leans forward, the hand he uses for balance sliding under the neck of Gary’s shirt.

His kisses taste faintly of Johnny and Gary’s sighs against your body tell you he was appreciating the contact as well.

When Kyle pulls back from the kiss he drops one to your forehead, one to Gary’s hair, and finally one to Johnny before heading for the door.

“So you missed it, Gary, apparently our girl here is interested in getting pegged,” Johnny sits up a bit to lean around and look at Gary.

You slap at Johnny’s thigh.

“You quit that. I said I was interested in getting pegged by Kyle’s last girlfriend, not that I was interested in getting pegged in general.”

Gary pushes up on his hands to stare at you. Unable to bear the interested confusion in his gaze you cover his face with your hands.

“All of you need to stop being mean to me!” But you can’t help but laugh even as you say it.

Masterlist | Fallen Angel Masterlist

@lilynotdilly

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Study Buddy 5

Warnings:this series will include dark elements which may include bullying, noncon or dubcon, or violent behaviour. Mind the warnings.

Summary: a group project leads to a tense partnership.

Character: Walter Marshall

Big thanks to those who read! Feedback always helps inspire and you know I’m always happy to chat about possibilities! Please reblog and comment ❤️

Despite feeling entirely out of place, you can’t resist the draw of sleep. Nestled on the couch beneath a blanket, a soft pillow under your head, you drift away from the tension rippling off your study buddy. Even in the next room, you sense the density in the air. 

You’re so tired, you hear yourself snoring from the depths of your unconscious. Your brain is sludge and your dreams are murky. You only wake up as you sense the murmur of voices. 

You open your eyes to the glare of the TV in the pale light of day. You rub your cheek as your vision clears. You blink at the screen as the teen drama plays out. 

“You snore louder than my dad,” Faye snorts. “Morning, sunshine.” 

You lurch up, almost top-turning from the suddenness of it all. You remember where you are in an instant. You knead your temple as you try to sort yourself out. 

“Um, good morning,” you croak through your dry throat. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” she grins, still in her pajamas as she drapes her legs over the armrest of the chair. “How about you?” 

“Urgh, tired,” you drop your hand as the blanket falls to your lap. “Sorry, I should go--” 

“Daaaad,” Faye hollers over you. 

You flinch and turn as you hear footsteps. As you glance over, Walter emerges in a bathroom. You can tell by the glimpse of his furry chest and the glisten in his curls that he just got out of the shower. 

“Your friend’s awake.” She chirps. 

He looks at you and his shoulders square. He really doesn’t like you. You can’t help but wonder why he insisted you stay. 

“It’s alright, I’m just about to head out,” you stand and fold the blanket and set it neatly on the cushion. “Thanks, again.” 

“You should at least have breakfast. Dad made waffles.” 

“Waffles? Oh,” you glance at him. “I wouldn’t want to... impose.” 

“No big deal, I saved some batter. Iron heats up in a snap,” he shrugs. 

You face him as you cross the room. You stop by the doorway into the entry, “it’s very nice of you but I’m okay. I really should try to catch a bus.” 

“Gimme a few and I’ll drive you.” He offers. 

“Really, it’s...” 

He’s already stalking away before you can finish your protest. You sigh and grimace at his back. He really doesn’t give you a chance to argue. With anything. Would it be easier to just have him look at the paper before you go and tell you everything that’s wrong? 

“My dad likes you,” Faye giggles. “He doesn’t like anyone.” 

“Um, I don’t think so,” you lean on the doorframe and stare at the TV, trying to make sense of the snarky conversation. 

“He does,” she insists. “I know, I’m the only other person he likes.” 

“Sure,” you tut. “Does it matter? I just need to get this project done.” 

“Don’t you think it’s funny? My dad taking a writing course? He doesn’t really seem like the creative type. More the bashing skulls type,” she cackles. 

“I don’t really know... him.” 

“What did you think when he showed up? I’d be pissing my pants,” she doesn’t look away from the TV as she speaks. 

“I don’t know, I thought someone named Walter would be skinnier... maybe have glasses and a pension?” 

She laughs even louder, “oof, don’t say that too loud.” 

You let yourself smile. She’s not a bad kid. If you were her age, you might be friends. 

“I’m just going to get my stuff together,” you say, “uh, Faye, it was nice to meet you.” 

“You too. Nice to have someone around to keep the wolf from coming out in the full moon,” she snipes. 

You snicker softly and leave her. The analogy isn’t far off. Walter does fit the type. He’s a bit furry after all. 

You check that everything’s in your bag and ben to put on your shoes. You pull on your jacket and Walter appears; he wears a black hoodie and dark jeans. He pulls on a jacket and leaves it undone before he grabs his boots. 

You zip up your coat and hook your bag on your shoulder, “thanks, again. You know, I have a bus pass.” 

He grumbles and you quiet. Don’t push your luck. Hopefully he only needs to revise a little and you can be done with all this. 

You flinch as he suddenly moves toward you. Your eyes round and you hit the door with your back. He tilts his head as he reaches past you for the handle. You look down and cringe. 

“Sorry, I wasn’t... paying attention.” 

He hums and you shift out of his way. He opens the door and lets you out first. You step into the sunshine, a deceptive beacon as your breath puffs out visibly. You cross your arms as he locks the door. 

He gestures you ahead of him to his truck. You go down the walk and to the driveway. You wait on the passenger side until the locks click. You open the door and climb in. He has a much easier time stepping into the high vehicle. 

He pulls his seatbelt down as you do the same. He turns the engine and lets it rumble as he turns the dials for the vent. He checks the mirrors and grips the wheel in one hand. He leans his elbow on the arm rest as he backs out. 

“You know,” he says as he rights the tires. “I got eye surgery so I don’t need the glasses anymore.” 

You squint at his remark. What? It takes a moment before you realise. Shoot. 

“It was a joke,” you say. “Obviously...” 

“No pension for another fifteen years at least and, well, helps to have a bit of bulk in my line of work.” 

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You really didn’t mean anything. 

“I’m sorry, I... yeah, I say stupid things.” 

He’s quiet as he steers. He sucks his teeth as he stops at a sign, “it was a good joke. Better than Faye’s werewolf schtick.” 

“Oh, uh, right,” you flick your thumb nervously. 

“You seem like the werewolf type. Know any good books?” He asks. 

“Werewolf type? Um, didn’t think I put out that vibe but... maybe Mongrels? I don’t read a lot about that stuff actually.” 

“Mongrels,” he nods. “I’ll check it out.” 

You’re almost flattered that he’d take your recommendation, less so that he thinks you’re a Twilight girlie. You stare through the windshield and take the victory for what it is. You don’t think you’ll be getting any more than that. 

[redicillin]

Hello!! If you’re taking requests on this account, could I ask for- chase who’s been anxious all day, distracted etc, and it’s been pretty obvious to the rest of the team. Then chase turns to foreman when they’re alone and asks for advice on how to propose to reader. Like this poor man is so nervous and just wants to make it perfect for reader? Tysm ❤️

𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐫.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞)

chase’ll settle for nothing less than perfection when it comes to popping the all important question.

fem!reader ☆ 1.6k ☆ masterlist.

The team is gathered around the diagnostics table, papers and charts strewn across its surface. You stand near House, half-listening to his sarcastic commentary as the others throw out potential diagnoses. It's the kind of spirited back-and-forth you've grown used to in this office—except for one glaring exception.

Chase isn’t himself.

You’ve noticed it since the moment you woke up. He’s unusually quiet, his bright blue eyes fixed on the table, his fingers twisting the cap of a dry-erase marker until it clicks repeatedly. Normally, Chase is quick to weigh in during these meetings, offering his thoughts with a mix of confidence and calm that suits him. Today, though, he barely seems present.

“Am I talking to myself here?” House barks, glaring around the room. His cane taps the ground impatiently as his gaze lands on Chase. “Paging Dr. Kangaroo. You awake over there?”

Chase’s head snaps up. “What? Oh, sorry. Uh, no, I don’t think it’s lupus,”

House narrows his eyes. “Riveting contribution. Anything else you want to share, or should we let your mind wander back to wherever it’s been for the past hour?”

“Leave him alone, House,” you interject, giving Chase a brief, worried glance. His lips twitch upward in what might be an attempt at a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Something is definitely off.

“Fine,” House drawls, rolling his eyes. “Guess I’ll pick up the slack while Dr. Distracted works through whatever existential crisis is happening over there. Foreman, Cameron—go start the tests. Chase, try to remember that thinking is part of your job.”

The meeting dissolves, and you find yourself walking alongside Chase as the team disperses. The hallways of Princeton-Plainsboro are as busy as ever, but all you can focus on is the man beside you. His silence feels heavy, and you can’t help but press.

“You okay?” you ask softly, glancing up at him. “You’ve been… somewhere else all day,”

Chase hesitates, the corner of his mouth quirking like he’s debating how to answer. Finally, he shakes his head and offers a rueful chuckle. “I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind,”

“Clearly,” You nudge him gently with your shoulder. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

His expression softens at that, and for a moment, you think he might actually open up. But instead, he leans down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know. Thanks. But I’m good, I promise,”

You’re not convinced, but you let it slide for now. Chase has always had a tendency to internalise things, preferring to work through his emotions privately. Still, you make a mental note to check in with him later.

—

The hum of the MRI machine fills the small room, a low, steady noise that makes conversation feel oddly intimate. Foreman is adjusting settings on the console while Chase stands by the monitor, staring at the patient’s scan with a blank expression.

Foreman notices. “Okay, what’s going on with you?” he asks, leaning back against the counter.

“What do you mean?” Chase replies, though his voice lacks conviction.

“You’ve been distracted all day,” Foreman says. “More than usual. It’s not like you to zone out during a differential. And don’t try to tell me it’s the case, because I’m not buying it,”

Chase hesitates, glancing over at the patient through the observation window. Once he’s sure she can’t hear, he exhales sharply and runs a hand through his hair.

“Okay, fine,” he says. “There’s...something on my mind.”

Foreman waits, eyebrows raised expectantly.

Chase shifts awkwardly, clearly debating whether to say more. Finally, he blurts out, “I want to propose.”

Foreman blinks. “Propose? As in marriage?”

“Yes, marriage,” Chase says, his tone somewhere between exasperation and nervous laughter. “What else would I be proposing?”

Foreman grins. “Okay, calm down. You’re just...really worked up about this, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Chase mutters, leaning on the counter. “I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, trying to figure out the right way to do it. It has to be perfect,”

Foreman gives him a skeptical look. “Does it? She loves you, man. She’s not going to care if it’s perfect,”

Chase shakes his head. “I care. I want it to be special. Something she’ll remember forever,”

Foreman shrugs. “Look, I’m not exactly the romantic type, but here’s what I think: you’re overthinking it. You’ve been with her long enough to know she’ll say yes. Just do it,”

Chase frowns. “That’s it? Just do it? That’s your advice?”

“Yeah,” Foreman says with a shrug. “Why make it more complicated than it needs to be?”

Chase doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he nods. “I’ll think about it.”

—

The case wraps up late in the evening, the patient stabilised and diagnosed after a long day of tests and deliberation. The team gathers in the conference room for a quick debrief, but everyone is clearly exhausted.

House dismisses you all with a wave of his cane, muttering something about needing to bother Wilson. One by one, the others file out, leaving you and Chase alone.

You glance at him, noting the tension in his posture. He’s been like this all day—nervous, restless. You’re about to ask him about it again when he suddenly turns to you, his expression oddly intense.

“Can I ask you something?” he says, his voice low.

“Of course,” you reply, a little startled by his tone.

He takes a deep breath, his hands curling into fists at his sides. For a moment, he seems to hesitate, as if he’s trying to find the right words. Then, in one quick, almost panicked burst, he blurts out:

“Will you marry me?”

You blink, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Will you marry me?” he repeats, his voice softer this time. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, a mixture of hope and fear that makes your heart ache.

For a moment, you just stare at him, too stunned to speak. He fidgets under your gaze, his hands moving as if he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“I—I know this isn’t the most romantic way to ask,” he stammers. “I had this whole plan, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I just… I couldn’t wait anymore,”

Your lips twitch, and before you know it, you’re laughing. Not because you think it’s funny, but because the whole situation is so completely Chase—overthinking everything until he just dives in headfirst.

“Are you serious?” you ask, though the answer is obvious.

“Yes,” he says firmly. “Completely.”

You laugh again, shaking your head in disbelief. “Chase, you’re unbelievable,”

He winces. “Is that a no?”

“No!” you say quickly, stepping closer to him. “It’s not a no. I’m just… surprised, that’s all,”

“So— it’s a yes, then?” he asks, his voice hesitant.

You smile, your chest swelling with warmth. “Yes. Of course it’s a yes,”

The relief on his face is almost comical. He lets out a breath he must have been holding for hours and pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your hair. “I wanted to make it perfect,”

“It was perfect,” you assure him, your voice muffled against his chest. “Because it was you, but blurting it out in the middle of the conference room?” You chuckle.

Chase groans, burying his face further into your hair. “I panicked, okay? Foreman told me to go with my gut,”

“And your gut told you to propose at work?”

“Yes,” he says, his voice muffled. Then he peeks at your face, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “I guess it wasn’t so bad, though,”

You laugh, leaning into him. “No, it wasn’t. It was… very you,”

He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promises. “I’ll plan something better. A nice dinner, or a trip, or—”

“Chase,” you interrupt, placing a hand on his chest. “You don’t have to make it up to me. This is exactly how it was supposed to happen,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, smiling up at him. “Now stop overthinking it and just enjoy the moment,”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll try,”

And as the two of you walk out, the weight of the day finally lifting, you can’t help but think that this—messy, imperfect, and completely unplanned—is exactly what love should be.

[malk1ns]

january 17 @ sabres, 5-2 win

goalie goal and geno showing off the goods. hell yeah.

When Sid was a little boy, he remembers asking his dad if he’d ever scored a goal while he was still playing hockey.

Troy never made it to the NHL; he probably could have gotten some time in the A, but he was never going to be a big star. He was good enough to get drafted, though, and play in the Q, and when Sid was little all hockey was equally impressive.

He remembers his dad laughing and nudging at the new stick he’d gotten for Christmas, still too tall for him but something his parents promised he’d grow into soon. “Goalies don’t score goals, they stop them,” he’d said, and Sid had nodded before scampering down to the basement to hit pucks at the net his dad put up as a surprise.

Sid liked scoring goals when he was young. He likes it now, too. That’s probably why he didn’t ever seriously think about going the goalie route, when he was still young enough to switch what he was playing. Goalies don’t score goals, they stop them.

Sid’s goalies, it seems, have never heard that before.

It’s a little surreal to have it happen in consecutive seasons, but Sid can’t wipe the smile from his face as he circles down to the empty net to scoop up the puck before making his way to the bench where Ned’s getting absolutely mobbed.

It’s been a tough season. Sid’s wrist is acting up, the team isn’t very good right now, and the Jarry situation left a lot of them shocked even though Sid was warned it was coming months ago if things didn’t improve. It’s nice to have something like this to celebrate every now and then.

He catches Geno’s eye through the crowd. Geno’s face is split in half with his own smile, and he’s shouting something incomprehensible as he smacks Ned’s helmet hard enough that Ned stumbles. Geno winks at him before turning to bang his stick against the boards as everyone settles down and prepares for the next shift.

The locker room is a madhouse after the final buzzer. Sid feels bad for the reporters who are congregating outside the room; the players aren’t the only people who have to catch a flight to DC for a quick turnaround tomorrow. He thinks they’ll understand a little bit of a delay while they dump water on Ned and holler over the music PO has going on the speakers.

Eventually they calm down enough to pass the game helmet. Sid leans back in his stall and looks around, soaking in everyone’s happiness as they whistle and clap when Ned tries to give a speech.

He pauses when he gets to where Geno’s sitting.

Geno’s always ready to hit the showers quicker than everyone else when he isn’t tapped for media. He doesn’t like to dawdle; the faster they get back home, or the hotel, or the plane if they’re traveling, the better. Sid knows part of it is he doesn’t like sitting in his sweaty base layers, which is more unusual for a hockey player than it probably should be.

So it’s not entirely a surprise that Geno’s already shirtless and down to the ratty, semi-translucent gray leggings he wears during every game. What is a surprise is the semi he’s sporting without an ounce of shame, legs spread as he laughs at something Ricky’s leaned over to tell him.

He must feel Sid’s eyes on him, because he swivels his head and catches where Sid’s looking. This time, his wink feels a little less ‘hey, how about our team’ and a little more like he’s trying to start something.

Sid poses for the team picture on the other side from where Geno’s sitting. Not for any reason, really. He’s not a teenager; it’s not like he’d lose his head and start groping Geno in front of the cameras. He just doesn’t want to be distracted from what the moment is about, which is congratulating Ned.

The plane is a different story.

Geno only plays cards on long flights, so it’s not unusual that he takes the seat next to Sid’s instead of continuing back to where the tables are. He doesn’t say anything as he settles in, humming to himself as he pulls out his pillow and the giant fuzzy Penguins blanket he’s been traveling with for over a decade now, pretending he doesn’t notice Sid’s eyes on him like a laser.

Good hockey games, good hockey in general, gets Sid riled up, and nobody would know that better than Geno.

Geno settles back against his seat back, cranes his neck to make sure nobody else is still walking down the plain aisle, and in one move tosses his blanket over Sid’s lap and slides his hand into Sid’s sweatpants.

“Ffff—Geno,” Sid hisses, clenching his thighs and glaring. Geno doesn’t even look at him, just fiddles with his phone with his free hand. The hand in Sid’s pants doesn’t even move, just curls around Sid’s dick and squeezes.

Sid can’t really do anything about it. If he makes a fuss, they might get heard. And he can’t exactly shove Geno’s hand away, not when it’s where it is. All he can do is sit and stare holes into the back of the seat in front of him, trying not to make a sound as his dick fills in Geno’s palm.

“Good game, yeah?” Geno says lowly, leaning close to Sid under the pretext of showing him something on his phone. Sid tears his eyes away from the seat back and stares blankly at Geno’s broken phone screen, gritting his teeth as Geno finally starts to move his hand, agonizingly slow. “You like when we get special goal, like, makes you excite.”

“I wasn’t the one with a stiffy in the locker room, buddy,” Sid mutters, clenching his thighs and choking back a groan when Geno presses his thumb into his slit. 

“No?” Geno says, sounding amused. And, well. 

“At least I still had my cup on,” Sid retorts.

Geno shrugs and slides his hand down Sid’s shaft, taking his balls in hand and squeezing them. Sid squeaks. “Boys get a show, like, it’s reward,” he says, tone as casual as though he’s talking to Sid about tomorrow’s weather. “And you like.”

“I’d like it more if you waited until we got to the hotel,” Sid says, slouching down and spreading his legs to give Geno more room. “We could do a little more if we had room, you know.”

“Yes, Sidney Crosby always wants to be on his knees when we win, I know,” Geno says, and Sid flushes hot. “You want to do here? Have time.”

Sid swallows, picturing it. If he slid to his knees under Geno’s blanket right here on the plane, peeling his pants down and letting Geno feed him his dick and hold his head down as he fucked Sid’s face. Would anyone notice? Would they stop to watch?

“Shit,” he breathes, grinding his hips up as his dick twitches. “Damnit, fuck you, we can’t do that.”

“You think about, let me get you off,” Geno orders, and Sid gives in, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as Geno works him over.

He bites down hard on his lip when he comes, hard enough that he thinks he broke skin. Worth it.

Geno wipes his hand off on Sid’s thigh, which is disgusting, but at least Sid has on boxers, so he’s able to mop up the mess without staining through his sweats. And once Sid’s caught his breath enough to look around, nobody’s looking at them. They got away with it.

The adrenaline catches up to him then, and he laughs a little, sprawling back in his chair and kicking Geno’s ankle. Geno just smirks at him, heaving himself up and back to the bathroom, presumably to wash his hands.

Sid floats for the rest of the plane ride, luxuriating in the unexpected orgasm and the thought of what he’s going to do to get Geno back once they’re in their room and safely behind a door.

Tanger eyes them both suspiciously when they finally touch down and are waiting to file off the plane, but Sid smiles blandly at him as he shoulders his bag. Kris can’t prove a damn thing.

[priceoftheduchess]

oh, father! where art thou?

part two.

highschool au, long lost lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, grumpy and sunshine-esque dynamics, simon riley & fem!reader.

cw) angst, use of 2nd person, allusions/vague depictions to intimacy eventually, drinking eventually, breakdowns, motherhood, simon riley is father, un-canon lore! all of it eventually

tw) super short and i’m so sorry

also, scarf scene inspired by @girl-lostconnection ! please read her “Unsweetened Lemonade” AU! <3

previous part

Winter in Manchester was never easy. It marked the beginning of a new term, new classes, new people in these new classes. Not to mention the Manchurian weather. Fog, humidity, and wind.

All of Simon’s adversaries. His clothes were too thin, too ratty for all of this nonsense. You noticed this, more closely — perhaps, for the first time when you caught him smoking outside of the orchestra building again. He’s lucky Dr. Harris was too senile to really care about busting him for smoking.

You sat and watched him. Effortlessly blowing the smoke from his chapped lips, like he’s already setting a somber tone for his day. Fucking weirdo, also, what’re you doing just standing here and watching him?

Since when did you become so interested in him?

You approach him again — before you can think better of it — and thrust your scarf into his chest, same as you did with the granola bar just a few weeks earlier. He’s puzzled, but almost unsurprised. He flicks some ash in your direction and snickers to himself as you flinch away from it.

“Wot’s ‘is?” He asks. You’re dumbfounded by how dense he must be.

“S’a scarf.” You respond, and you’ve must’ve made a face because he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yeah, gathered ‘at much. Wot’s it for?”

“It’s 5° celsius outside, and you’re asking why I’m giving you a scarf?” She asks, her eyebrows aching from her confusion.

“No need for lip, princess,” he chuffs back at you. Princess? Wot? “Was jus’ askin’ why you’ve decided to gimme your scarf.”

“‘Cause I ‘a clearly see you’re cold.” She says, reaching the point of exasperation.

He scoffs, as if that’s the most ridiculous idea he’s ever come across. “Come off it,” he chuffs and passes the scarf back to you unceremoniously.

“Mate, ‘at’s so hard to understand?! Givin’ you a scarf, ‘ot a billion quid!” And he snickers, having found you riled up again. He seems to let go of his grief a bit easier now. Especially in your presence.

He towers over you, as lanky and awkward as he is. Seeing you with your hands on your hips is quite funny, and he can’t even remember your name. Just knows you’re sweet and well-respected. All the things he will never be.

“Don’t need it.” He says, and you give up on conversation. Shoving it against his chest again, you storm off to first lesson. It’s some arithmetic class you wished you could’ve opted out of, but alas.

And who walks in? The boy with the scarf! Oh my, God. Oh, my God! You physically coil back into your seat when you see him search the room for his desk, before slipping into the one beside you. Your scarf is poking from his jacket. Your scarf. He’s wearing it! Well, hiding it. But a win is a win.

You peak onto his desk, learning his name wordlessly.

Simon Riley.

Short and sweet.

“Got a pencil, luv?” He nearly knocks you out of your seat with how abruptly he’s spoken. Shit, when did the teacher start talking?

“You’ve come to school without a pencil?” You asked, reaching into your bag for one nonetheless. You hand him a sparkly pink mechanical pencil, and he looks at you like you’ve got two heads. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” you teased him, all too proud of yourself.

Oh, doesn’t he know it, sweetheart.

“Some station’ry you’ve got,” he chuffs, but your chest almost physically puffs when he starts writing in his scratchy handwriting with the frilly pencil nonetheless.

You grumble under your breath, mocking his voice and sticking out your tongue. Appropriate rebellion, you think. He smiles for a split second, his home life forgotten. How do you have this effect on him? With the scarf and the stupid ass, girly ass pencil? Has he actually gone mad? Would be the most likely explanation.

You catch glimpses of him during the lesson, and the scent of him. It’s strong, musky, and mature. A grown man’s cologne. You wonder where it’s from. Smells expensive. But with every glimpse you catch, you can’t help but notice his lips. They’re chapped beyond oblivion and you’re wondering how he’s not chewing them till he draws blood.

You forget paying attention to the lecture entirely, and start rummaging through your purse. You find it! Aha! Your blueberry flavored “healing” lip balm.

“Here,” you all but slam it on his desk. He snorts at you and doesn’t give the tube a second glance. You don’t give him a chance to before you’re forcibly applying the lip balm for him, a rough grip on his chin and another tightly holding the lip balm. “Better?” You ask, and he’s again looking at you like you have two heads, but at least his lips are shiny.

And the second term of Year 11 continues like that. You offering him small things to help him cope with the Manchurian winter and him begrudgingly accepting.

The last day of the second term roles around, the winter snow and harsh winds bygones. And you still haven’t seen your scarf. Hm.

Simon sits down in his desk, the desk you two have shared, the desk you two have bonded over and fought over just as much. He is a bit dejected today, but he’s been looking a bit better. His arms are fuller and his face is a normal color this time of year. He begins speaking without even glancing your way.

“Been workin’ ad’a butcher shop.” He says, as if this has been the secret to the universe all along.

“Is’at the answer to the ‘omework from ‘ast night?” You tease, just getting under his skin. He’s ready to give up on this whole being honest and being vulnerable thing.

Ready to give up on telling you that you were the highlight of his year, as much as you two fought. That he prays he’ll classes again with you come Year 12, and that you helped him get over all the grief he’d been harboring. That as much as he didn’t understand you in your entirety, he adored you. That as much as it was a hurdle to allow himself to get to know you, he’s enjoyed it all. And he’s glad he jumped that hurdle and not that ledge. Because where would you be without him? He allows himself the one cocky thought.

“‘N’ I thought I’d told her she waddn’t in’ited but she’s comin’ anyhow and I’ve ‘iven up try’n to convince ‘er not to.” Oh? You were speaking? You were actively telling him something?

“Sounds like a piece’a work.” He chuffs and you nod in inordinate agreement, believing that he was listening.

“Anyway, wot’s ‘is ‘bout you workin’ in’a butcher shop?” She looped the conversation back to him. Fuck. What did he have planned to say? Why’d he throw away those damn flashcards he’d made?

“Been makin’ some money, yeah?” He starts slowly.

“Lucky prick,” she chuckles softly.

“Nah, ‘ot the point, luv.”

“Oh?”

“Got you sum’n.” He says, and she’s shocked. Did she really mean this much to him? She’s caught up in her emotions, before she feels it in her hand.

A fucking granola bar.

Simon is chuckling heartily, and she’s thrown the damn thing back in his face.

“Not funny, Si.” And he stops laughing.

Did you just give him a nickname? Oh, honey. If only you knew what you had now.

This poor sod, on a leash that you didn’t even attach him to. And he’s shortened it, too, for your courtesy. Don’t worry about him running, off, luv.

“My boss ‘ave me some cuts.” His voice slices confusion in half. “You got any plans ‘or dinner ‘onight?”

What?!

“I. . . dinner?”

“Yeah, you never ‘eard of it?” He teases. Because he’s so positively hilarious.

“‘Re you askin’ me’a come over for dinner?” She says, a bit louder this time.

“Not if you’re gettin’ your knickers in’a twist ‘bout it.” He looks at you like you have two heads. Jesus, is there something you didn’t see in the mirror this morning?

“No! I. . . I’ll check with my parents but that’s probably fine. Eh, wot time?”

“Seven?”

“Seven.”

“Seven.”

next part

[chaoticmultifandom28]

All these people on Twitter going on about all the women Zoro ‘bags’. And I cringe because like Zoro isn’t like that. He’s unaware of the women who find him attractive.

Not in an oblivious way, but I’m of the firm belief that unless you’re his crew or Mihawk or maybe Perona (only since they spent two years together training and you can’t just ignore someone on an island with only three people on it), Zoro just doesn’t truly care about you enough to notice your romantic feelings or feelings in general. You don’t register on his radar.

And also he even ranks the people who do register on his radar (not on the romantic register since there is no canon romantic partner Zoro is interested in) on who’s feelings matter the most. Here’s my ranking of this:

1. Luffy

2. The Crew

3. Mihawk (he just wants to surpass him but also I think he wants Mihawks approval of being worthy to take his title)

4. Sanji (this is a joke, even with their rivalry and fighting all the time, he does try and make sure sanji is doing okay emotionally and all that, in reality he’s up there in the ranking of the crew)

Also, I do think that the gap between luffy and the crew is pretty decent. Like Zoro cares for the crew a lot, but much like the people who watched the live action without watching the anime and then watching the anime, we know that that bond between Zoro and Luffy is something no one can touch in the One Piece Universe.

Like I’m not even saying this in a shipping pov, this is something I noticed long before I knew shipping existed, let alone ZoLu being a romantic ship. Like you take Luffy’s relationship with his sworn brothers and yeah that’s special in its own way, but like Zoro and luffy were just as connected emotionally and soulfully (like soulmates [you could take it as romantic soulmates or platonic soulmates it’s your choice]) to each other that Zoro was willing to sacrifice himself for luffy after only knowing him for a year (or less or a little more idk the timeline), which is significant because it’s a direct parallel with Ace, later, sacrificing himself for Luffy to live. His bond to luffy was as close as luffy’s bond to ace and Sabo (who, for ace’s case, knew luffy for years, idk how long Sabo knew luffy before he got amnesia cuz it’s really hard to figure out the timeline and how much time has passed and I’m sure it was made known in the anime/manga but I can’t remember off the top of my head)

So anyway, sorry to the Twitter folks but Zoro isn’t a lady’s man simply because he just doesn’t care about anyone except for his crew and mihawk and perona (but the latter two is only cuz one is literally standing in the way of his goal but he’s also an inspiration and the other is cuz of prolonged exposure). Yes those women like him, but I think a lady’s man is someone who is aware of the women flocking him and who in some way entertains them whether it’s flirting or acknowledging them.

I’m not saying he doesn’t care about anyone else, it’s just that it’s kinda insignificant bc of the ones at the top of the list. He couldn’t care less about strangers, but the ones he knows he cares a little about but not enough to notice anything. He only has about four or five thoughts in his mind:

1. Swords and fighting

2. Luffy and everything that encompasses luffy even making sure he doesn’t drown

3. Sleeping

4. Booze

5. Training

(This isn’t in any order because honestly booze is the first thing that should be on the list if it were in order, much like meat would be the first thing on Luffy’s)

Anyway idk what this rant really is about, I just think I needed to rant about Zoro and what goes on in his head a little

[lilgarbitch]

Running In Circles - One

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

CW: Slight angst, slight fluff, anxiety...I think that's all so far

Word count: 6k

Author's note: I’M BACK BITCHES!!! So I changed/ am changing a few things and I hope it doesn’t upset anyone. As much as I loved Tommy, Tony, and Cam, I feel like I could’ve put more effort into their names. So Tommy is now Finn, Tony is now Calum/Cal, and Cam is now Damien. Some dialogue and things have changed as well and I can’t say I’m extremely happy with the way I wrote this chapter, but I didn’t want to change too much. Still, I hope you’re as excited as I am ;)

Y/N

I sit hunched over, elbows resting on my knees as my leg rapidly bounced up and down. My chin rested on my fist, with a stressed scowl covering my face as I sat in the lounge of our tour bus. I realize I’m shaking my whole body by bouncing but I truly don’t care. It eased the racing thoughts of the show we’re about to play. The first show of our new tour.

Finn walks into the lounge and gives me a slightly pained pitying look. I try to sit up and let his presence distract me from the stress, waiting for him to say something, but it just takes over my body once again and I fall back against my seat with a loud huff and shut my eyes. 

“I know you always get nervous shows, but…Hun..” he sends a small pout my way, “you look like you haven’t slept. You’ve been dreaming of us touring with someone big for so long…But it almost looks like you’re regretting it.” Finn looks at me with pity filled eyes. 

I let out a long exhale, rubbing my hands against my fishnet-covered thighs, trying to soothe myself. 

“I am excited, trust me. I-” I pause to squeeze my eyes shut and try to push the stress away again. I try to give him a smile, hoping to look nervous rather than unbelievably stressed. “I just… can’t wrap my head around it…especially who we’re touring with.” 

He gives me a look telling me that he doesn’t believe me and is slightly confused. I had never fully explained myself to Finn. He knows nothing about what’s truly been on my mind for the past few years. He doesn’t know who I write about in my lyrics. And there’s a reason for it. It’s utterly embarrassing and confusing for me to say any of it out loud. 

I wave him off with a small ‘it’s nothing’ before getting up and pacing around the tour bus. We were about a half hour away from the venue for the first show. I look at myself in the mirror and run back to my bag, deciding to change my outfit once more. I just want to feel good enough for first impressions with the band, so I can’t have myself thinking too much about my appearance. I look through my bag, look down at myself, then back at my bag. I grab my phone and check the weather before picking out a few pieces of clothing and walking back to the seating area, Cal now sitting with Finn. 

“Is Damien still sleeping?” I ask, my mind getting sidetracked, seeing all my bandmates but my drummer. 

“No, he’s in the back on his phone. Said something about needing quiet, as if he isn’t the one causing the noise most of the time” Cal replies with a snort, staring out the window at the passing scenery. I give him a nod before remembering what I was holding. 

“Okay, so. It’s going to be a little chilly out today, but I’m sticking to my skort and fishnets. Do I wear my sweater-” I say holding up my oversized knitted sweater, “Or my lace top with a cardigan?” I proceed to hold that pairing up. Cal turns to me and eyes both choices and you can almost see the gears turning in his head as he visualizes what both outfits would look like, causing a small humorous smirk to form on my face. 

I glance towards Finn and he’s tapping a finger against his chin, before replying, “The sweater would be warmer, yeah?” and I give him a small shrug. “That one, then.” 

“Dude, I’m asking which would look cuter, not which I would survive better in,” I laugh. I love my band. I can fully say that I view everyone in the group as my family. My brothers. But it has reached a point where I am purely treated as a little sister and not their lead singer. 

I turn back to Cal as he’s still deep in thought, but he finally spoke. 

“I agree. But only because the lace top with the fishnets may clash, and the sweater still lets your neck tattoos show,” he answers as if I gave him a pop quiz. I roll my eyes with a smile before turning around and heading to change. I look at my outfit after, and agree with Cal. The short skort shows off my leg tattoos which I hate covering up, and the sweater covers enough to keep me warm, but shows off the cybersigilism tattoo on the front of my throat, the barbed wire on my left collar bone as it hangs down on that shoulder. The sleeves are a little too long, so I rolled them up enough so they aren’t going to get in the way, and so they show off the detailed skull on my left hand and the more cybersigilism print flowing onto my right. 

I give myself a final look over in the mirror, take account of if I’m comfortable enough, and if there’s anything I’m going to think too much about out of insecurity. Giving a small smile to myself in my reflection, I leave the bathroom and walk towards the front. 

“ETA 5 MINUTES” Damien shouted from behind me, both scaring me and bringing the dreaded stress and fear back into my body. I let out a small shriek and he laughs out an apology, patting my back as he passes me and goes to sit with the rest of the boys. With a long exhale, I sit down with them all as we pull down a dirt road and head towards the bus park. We have 3 hours until doors even open, so I let out a sigh of relief when I see no other buses around as our bus halts to a stop. Maybe I can eye this place out and find a good place to relax (aka finding good hiding spots to get away from everyone when things get too much.) 

I feel a small pat on my shoulder, waking me from my daze as the boys get up and start heading out of the bus. I stand and follow, trying my hardest to calm my nerves. If this was a situation where I was just a fangirl about to perform with her favorite band, this would be so much easier. But it’s so much more. 

We all step about and stretch our legs, finally feeling solid ground after hours and hours on a tour bus. Feeling better, I head off towards the venue, stopping as I notice something in the distance, towards the front of the venue. A group of people forming, causing a wave of confidence to rush over me. Even though I know most are here for Bad Omens, they’re here early. Meaning they still want to see our band, whether they know anything about us or are just open to new music. I let out a deep exhale. Maybe I can do this. I walk further until I’m heading in through the back doors. I eye up the green rooms and backstage. I search out all available bathrooms because it’s always good to know. And then I walk towards the actual stage, seeing where I will be performing today. I mentally start mapping out where everything will go and watching our show perform perfectly in my mind as a way of bringing some sense of comfort and stability to this stressful day.

Suddenly, I heard doors opening and footsteps behind me, making me jump, but when I turned around, I was thankful it was just the boys and our crew carrying our things in. I grab my custom mic stand, that I just had to splurge on for this tour because I for some reason thought it would help with my whole imposter syndrome feeling of this whole thing, and walk with everyone onto the stage and help set up what I can. We thankfully have a large enough crew now that we had gotten bigger, so the boys and I are eventually able to walk away and scope out the area more. 

Once we finally felt settled in enough, knowing where everything we need is, we stepped outside for some fresh air and to let off some pent-up stress and emotions that we didn’t need on stage. 

A few feet from me, Finn and Cal are chatting about whatever the hell guitarists talk about, occasionally letting out their practice vocals, as they’re my backup vocalists for a few parts of songs, while Damien and I are doing an odd preshow ritual that we started way back when. I’m doing my vocal exercise, making sure my screams and growls are up to par for today, while also making sure I can hit my clean vocals well, with Damien letting me know if anything sounds too harsh. And while I do all of this, I have my hands extended out, palms up, with Damien beating on them lightly with a pair of drumsticks. It looks and sounds insane, but it’s a good exercise for both of us, as we need to be able to do our own thing while listening to the other to make sure we work together, but also so we don’t get distracted by external noise. 

We get so stuck in our own zone that we, or I guess mostly I, don’t even notice the other tour bus pull up close to ours. Damien stops beating on my hands, bringing me back to reality as I look up at him. I follow his eyes and land on the new bus in the lot. I instantly feel my heart and stomach drop down to my ass. My breathing stops as I see a few heads starting to file out of the bus. They don’t immediately see us, but when they do, they send a wave and a smile. 

At first, I only see long, slightly messy hair, instantly recognizing it as Jolly, Mr. Joakim Karlsson himself. Finn and I have talked about him a lot, just pure adoration of how he plays. Finn has even become good friends with him over the last few year, even helping us get this spot on the tour. Then I see one of the Nicks. Nick Folio, the drummer, causing Damien to instantly leave my side and immediately use his gift of being an extrovert to walk up and start chatting with him. Next to him was the other Nick, Nick Ruffilo, their bassist, who had the sweetest smile on his face as he waved to all of us, and I just couldn’t help but mirror his actions. 

But now, the stress was fully hitting me. It hit me that the only way I could get through today and even the rest of the tour was to do what I do best. Put on a complete front when stressed. It was what I’ve always done when I was in uncomfortable situations. Even in childhood, I could pretend to be someone who was completely not myself, just so no one would see what I was truly feeling. I know it’s going to throw my bandmates off guard, but they’ll catch on.  Unless I want to look like a maniac to the new group, I can’t let my true feelings show. 

As I was planning out in my head my plan, thinking of ways to make it foolproof, the man of the day stepped off the bus. With hair like Levi Ackerman, looking beautifully styled even though you could tell the only thing he’s done was run his hands through it. With his arm and throat tattoos on full display as if I were walking around a goddamn art piece. He looked ethereal. To me, at least. I now realized that I had once again fully stopped breathing and my heart was beating out of my chest. Before Noah could even glance my way, I slowly backed up toward Finn, letting him know that I was going to be right back, trying my hardest to sound okay and not cause any concern. With that, I sneakily slipped past him, praying that no one saw how suspicious it looked, and sped walked back towards the venue, to a bathroom as far out of reach as possible.

I walked in and locked the door behind me. My breath started picking up and I immediately did everything I could to stop a panic attack from fronting. I ran my hands under cold water, trying to shock my body back to reality. I did my breathing exercises. I did everything I could. But the second I glanced at myself in the mirror, it was as if I allowed my brain to go back in time. 

I couldn’t be happier right now. Finn and I were walking around a metal festival. I had just forced him to watch Erra’s set with me and now he was taking me to see a band he thought I’d like. He was excited to show them to me and I was just happy to be here, seeing bands I love and seeing new artists that I would absolutely be adding to playlists tonight. We stopped and stood in a spot where we thought would be perfect. There were a few people in front of us, but we were close enough to the barricade and stage that we could see the whole show perfectly. 

While we waited for their set to start, Finn and I chatted about the bands we had seen that day. We both mentioned a few we enjoyed that we never heard before, then talked about how some bands put on performances that we either loved or thought could have been a lot better. We even threw some ideas back and forth of what we saw and heard that could be implemented into our own shows. We were just joking, giggling, and having the best time. It was a little sad that we had to wait until the next day of the festival for Cal and Damien to join us, but I truly enjoyed spending today with just Finn, as I definitely felt closest to him out of all of them, knowing him a lot longer than the others.

We were talking about the lineup for tomorrow and what bands we wanted to see and who we wanted to show to Cal and Damien. I was mid-sentence when I heard people beginning to cheer around us, which brought a giant smile to my face, out of complete and utter love for the environment at concerts, and then to glance up at the stage, trying to see who had stepped out. It was the drummer. He was cute. He flashed the crowd a sweet smile, waving at everyone, before sitting behind his drum set. Then came the guitarist and bassist. I eyed all three up and down, a little shocked at how attractive everyone was, but knowing Finn, it made a lot of sense as to why he wanted to be so close to the stage. 

The three of them got everything ready, and I was about to turn to Finn to mention how hot they all looked when the voice in my throat died and my body stiffened as the lead singer walked on stage. No words could explain the feeling that overwhelmed my body as I saw that confident, long-haired man stand right before me. 

He started addressing the crowd, hyping everyone up, including Finn, but I didn't hear a single word he said. No matter what I tried, I couldn’t regain control over my body. I did my best to shake out the stiffness, trying my hardest to look like a normal person in the crowd, but there was nothing I could do to get my brain to start working again. 

I watched as he moved around the stage. I could see the love that he had for performing. But absolutely nothing could knock me out of the daze I was in. It was like nothing I had ever felt before. The emotions were so foreign. I completely forgot where I was after a while. The only thing my brain allowed me to focus on was him. Everything about him. I felt like an owl, using all my senses to focus on every single thing he did. I knew I probably looked like a madman, or at least I felt like one, but there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop myself. 

After some time, probably a few songs, he was closer to the crowd, looking through it as he sang, and we locked eyes for a moment. But it almost seemed like he did a double take, before forcing himself to go back to serenading the whole crowd after a few moments. It was most definitely because I looked utterly insane, but in that moment, I didn’t care. The feeling that shot through my body when we did make eye contact was like nothing I had ever felt before. 

Time moved by at such a weird pace in my daze, so before I knew it, the set was over and he was thanking the crowd and the festival for having them. As he bowed and was about to leave the stage, our eyes locked again, and a shiver was sent through my body. I saw him blink a few times before sending a final wave to the crowd and walking off stage. 

The second he was no longer in my line of sight, reality finally came back to me. I blinked a few times and let out a deep breath as if I had been holding it the entire time. Finn started talking and caught my attention, so I turned to him as if nothing happened. 

“So… what’d you think?’ he asked, nudging my arm with a smirk. I gave him the best fake smile I could before replying, “Oh, that was amazing. Why didn’t you warn me about how hot everyone was?” which caused him to let out a chuckle.

“I figured it would be a good surprise.” he shrugged out as we walked away from the stage and towards the next set. My mind was racing a mile a minute but I tried my best to keep my composure as we continued to talk.

“So, who was your favorite?” Finn randomly asked as we stood at a different stage, waiting for Of Mice and Men to start. 

“Uhh..” I trailed off, not wanting him to know I already had an answer. 

“It was Noah, wasn’t it.” he cut me off with a smirk. 

“Was that the-” 

“The singer? Yeah. I could totally see the heart eyes you got when I saw him look at you.” he laughed out, causing my face to redden. All I could do in response was nod. I mean, it’s a simple crush, wasn’t it? We all fall for random artists, so there’s no reason for me to feel weird about it. As long as I completely ignore the fact that what I just felt was nothing close to what I felt when I used to fangirl over boybands in middle school. 

A year later

‘This isn’t a normal crush.’ I kept repeating in my head. I was currently writing lyrics for new songs, trying to find emotions in me to write about, but all I could do was dwell on that feeling I got that day, and the feelings that came after it. 

I look at my paper filled with messy writing, which was surrounded by other papers of the same misfortune, all with the same thought behind it. One talking about losing control to a man who never knew me, another begging to “be his sweet dreams.” My eyes land on another, catching the words, ‘I want to feel your heartbeat on mine,’ causing me to let out a loud groan and fall back into my chair. I rub my hands down my face and let out a dry sob. I was so tired of this. I’ve become a fucking cliche.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Cal with a small sheepish smile on his face. He crouched down next to my chair and looked up at me. 

“Do you need some help?” I know he thinks my frustration is coming from the struggle of writing, and not who I’m writing about, and I’m going to keep it that way. 

“Please. I can’t keep looking at these. And if anyone could help me, it’s going to be the other hopeless romantic in this band.” I answer with a sad chuckle. He nods and motions me to stand up so he can sit at my desk. I do so, sitting in a chair a few feet away and just staring up at the ceiling as I hear him rustle the papers around. 

“Oh for fucks sake, dude, who the hell are you writing about,” he asks, thankfully rhetorically. He knows I never answer, the embarrassment being too much, so I just reply with a tired giggle and let him do what he can to fix this part of my mess. 

I blink a few times, finally back in the bathroom. Reality crashing into me, finally grounding me once again. My hands are cramping as I look down and see that I’ve been gripping the sink so harshly, I don’t know how I didn’t break it. I loosen my grip and stand up straight, shaking off my nerves. I take an actual look at myself in the mirror, fix my makeup with my finger a little, before taking a deep breath and unlocking the door, ready to at least confront today. I can deal with the future later. I run my plan in my head a little, deciding that I can at least pretend to be an extrovert for a little while, just to ease the awkward tension that I know will build if I keep acting this way. 

I walk back through the hallway of the venue, then outside, towards the group of guys who were all chatting, and let out one last exhale of stress before putting on my confident front and joining the rest of them. 

Thankfully, it seems I was gone for barely 10 minutes, as their crew bus wasn’t even here yet and they’re still chatting about interests and how they were happy to finally meet after talking for a few months. I walk close enough that I have now caught the attention of a few of them, and I give them the best confident smile that I can. I walk towards the other band of boys and give them a small wave. 

“You must be Joakim!” I say, him giving me a proud smile for using his real name, and I internally thank myself for pronouncing it correctly. He tells me to just call him ‘Jolly” as I give him a small side hug, feeling comfortable with him since I know that he and Finn have become good friends lately, and I would love to be one as well. I then face to his right. 

“And you must be the Nicks!” I say without trying to under or overdo my enthusiasm. “I am really happy to meet you all. Sorry I haven’t been as chatty over the phone as the others, but preparing for a tour kinda makes me a recluse.” I give them both a sheepish smile as I give my hands a squeeze, trying not to feel too embarrassed about completely ignoring them when the boys would chat with them. They both chuckle and tell me that it was all good since we’d be hanging out now, and that thankfully made me feel better, knowing they were falling for this fake extroverted version of me. 

Now here comes the hard part. I take the deepest breath I could through my nose so they can’t tell how hard this is for me. I take a few steps to their right and meet face-to-face with Noah. I hold my arms behind my back, knowing that my hands are definitely shaking right now, and give him a warm smile. 

“And you must be the famous Noah Sebastian.” I try giving him my warmest smile and a small nod of acknowledgment. His eyes show an emotion I can’t quite understand and his mouth parts slightly before closing and giving me a fake warm smile back. Almost completely mirroring mine. My stomach sours at the sight, fearing that he may already hate me, but maybe he is just nervous and trying to hide it as well. 

“And you must be Y/N.” my breath softly hitches as I hear his deep smooth voice, and it being directed towards me was causing small shivers down my spine. I play it as cool as I can and nod before he continues, now facing my whole band.

“We’re really excited to play with you guys. We’ve actually listened to Praising Deities for a while, even before Thomas and Jolly met. So I was super excited to hear that our teams were able to come together and make this happen. And I truly hope that we all enjoy spending the next few months together and become good friends.” He finishes, giving us all a warm smile, his eyes trailing over all of us, but lingering on me the longest, making my heart race.  

Finn, Calum, and Damien all thank him and continue on with compliments and getting to know the other band, Jolly and the Nicks responding back the same way. But that just left Noah and I alone in our own little worlds. We listened to the others chat about things, occasionally answering if someone asked us something, but we didn’t contribute much. I couldn’t get my mind away from the thought that I was barely a foot away from the man that has been infiltrating my thoughts daily for the past few years. 

At some point, I guess I had dazed off, overthinking everything and just staring down at the ground while everyone chatted. Who knows how long I did this before I felt someone to my left nudge me. I blinked a few times before turning to them, only for my eyes to widen slightly, seeing that it was Noah and that he was closer than ever before. He leans down until his face is near my ear.

“You alright?” He mumbles into my ear with a slight nervous strain, sending shivers down my spine, once again, at how deep his voice got when he was trying to keep quiet. I take a deep breath before giving a half-assed nod. He clears his throat, standing up straight, and then places a hand on my lower back, pushing me out of the crowd of our bandmates. I really didn’t know how to react other than letting my heart start racing again, so I just let him, until we were far enough from them that we could have our own conversation. When he stopped, I looked up at him, slightly confused. 

“I- uh I just figured you needed to get out of there. I was starting to get overwhelmed and saw you staring off in the distance, so I figured you needed a way out of there as well.” He answered my silent question, rubbing his tattooed hand on the back of his neck, almost looking shy. 

“Oh!” I let out a fake airy laugh. “ Yeah, I uh just have a lot on my mind… I was honestly waiting for our manager to come out and tell us to do our soundcheck, just something to get away from the questions. I..uh..it’s been a stressful day, so as much as I’d love to have a good chat with all of you, it’s probably going to have to wait until I’m more settled in with..all of this,” I finish, motioning to the tour busses and venue. He seems to be listening intently when I talk and gives me a small nod when I finished. 

“No, I get it. To be completely honest, I still get anxious on the first show of a tour..” he pauses for a moment, before looking like he had an idea. “Here. You go head inside, I’ll be right back.” He quickly moves towards his tour bus. I shoot him a confused look at his sudden excitement but realized he was already so far away, so I just do what he says and start walking back inside. On my walk in, I continue my deep thinking. How I’m actually really happy that I’m playing off my anxiety toward him super well, and was surprisingly able to have a conversation with him without freaking out. And I was especially thankful that he had more confidence than me, actually starting the conversation. Maybe I can survive this. Maybe I can get over all these weird feelings over the next few months. I mean, having a natural human conversation with him seems to be okay for me, so hopefully my brain will start seeing him as a normal everyday person…right?

Still deep in thought, I make it inside and head towards the backstage area. As I walk, my reflection catches my eye, and I turn and take a good look at myself in the full-length mirror they have in there. “I look sane enough” I quietly tell myself with a nod as I fix my outfit a little before letting out a deep breath, forcing the rest of the stress out of me. I’m glad I put extra thought into my outfit today. I know I’m gonna have days where I’ll just want to put something comfy on to perform, but with first impressions and it being the first day of the tour, I’m pretty proud of my appearance.

Since it was the first day, and I liked my look, I pulled out my phone and took a quick picture (or a few, trying to find the right pose) and then headed towards the couch. I open Instagram and click on the picture I like the most. One where my tattoos show and the lighting was good enough. Then I type, “Day 1 jitters slowly easing away. Can’t wait to see you all out there <3” in the caption, making a face at how that was somehow the best idea for a caption I could come up with, but not really caring and hitting post anyway, after tagging the band’s account. 

Almost instantly, I started getting likes and comments and was about to put my phone away until a few caught my eye. They all mentioned Noah. Some asking weird personal questions, some wanting to see how we were all getting along, and some even asking when a collab was happening, which made me chuckle. Then I saw a few with account names that had either ‘Bad Omens’ or ‘Noah’s’ in them and each had some snarky comment to make. One mentioning how I was probably sleeping around since I was going to be touring with 7 other boys, which I just rolled my eyes at. If it hasn’t happened yet, I doubt I was ever going to do anything like that. I don’t like mixing work and play, and I absolutely would never see any of my boys like that. The thought alone made me grimace. 

But then I thought about it more. I’m going to be spending the next four months with Bad Omens. I’m going to be spending the next four months with Noah. Singing my songs. The songs I wrote..about Noah. Fuck.  And Noah is currently on his way here by himself. We’re going to hang out by ourselves…Why did I let him tell me to wait in here? What happened when speaking to him that I just forgot about the debilitating obsession I got all those years back. Hell, what am I even doing here?

Almost as if on cue, the doors open and I hear a single pair of footsteps walk towards me. My knee began to bounce and I tried my best to hide my attention in my phone as he got closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, not needing to be any louder since it was just me in here. I looked up from my phone and saw that he brought a Nintendo Switch with him. I giggled as the sight brought me out of my mental battle. Such a large, tatted man, looking down at me with excitement as he held a colorful, handheld gaming device. He walked closer to me until he sat down about a foot from me and gave me a smile, which I mirrored back as authentically as I could. 

“Whenever my nerves are getting bad, I always force one of the boys to play with me until soundcheck. So I figured..” he trailed off as he motioned the switch towards me. I let out a small laugh before responding. 

“You know, that might actually help. Are you sure you don’t have anything you have to be doing? I don’t want to be using up your time-” 

“No! I mean… I have a lot of time. You guys still have, what? An hour? before soundcheck, and I can do everything I need during that time’ he rushed out, catching me a little off guard a little, causing me to giggle. 

“Okay. Okay. If you say so.” I laugh out as I reach my hand out. He gives me a smile and places the controller in my hand before setting the body of the switch on the table in front of us. We go back and forth deciding on what game to play and eventually just settle on Mario Kart. 

Finn

The boys and I chatted for a good 20 minutes or so, or what I thought was only 20 minutes, before we realized that Y/N and Noah never came back. I noticed first, then slowly the rest of them did, a few of us sending each other confused glances before Cal mentioned needing to look for them, as we probably had to get ready soon. I agreed and we all started walking back.

We all headed towards the door to the back of the venue, Damien being the one to open it. As soon as we stepped inside, we all heard arguing, causing a few of us to share concerned looks before speed walking towards the voices, leading us to the room backstage. The second we got close enough, we saw Y/N leaning over Noah, trying to knock a tiny switch controller out of his hands, as he was yelling about how she was cheating. 

“WHY’D YOU PICK RAINBOW ROAD FOR YOUR TURN, JACKASS! YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW THE TRACK WELL! SO YOU’RE THE CHEATER!” Y/N yells, still occasionally elbowing Noah’s arm, but his tight grip on the controller and focus on the screen not faltering once. Noah’s laughing more and more every time she tries messing with him. 

“YOU’RE LITERALLY TOUCHING MY CONTROLLER! THAT’S AGAINST THE RULES!” Noah yells back as he starts shouldering her back into her spot. The boys and I just watch in awe as these two argue over a racing game, which I do fully understand, especially since I have played against Y/N before and boy, does she get competitive. I see Y/N catch us in the corner of her eye and she smirks. 

“Noah, the boys are here for you,” she tells him, and the second he glances up at us, she instantly smacks the controller out of his hands, it landing on the thankfully carpeted floor, and she lets out an almost evil cackle. Noah shouts as he loses the controller and immediately reaches for it as fast as he can. He sits back up, fumbling with the controller to get a good hold of it, and goes back to playing, only to let out a ‘WHAT THE FUCK’ which causes her to laugh even harder. 

“I WAS IN SECOND PLACE AND NOW I’M IN TENTH,” Noah shouts towards her before turning towards us. “She is vicious!” he warns us, causing all of us, but mainly Cal, Damien and I to just laugh because if anyone already knew that, it was us. Damien and Ruffilo walk closer to them, standing on each side of them, watching as they finish the race. I can tell by the teasing scowl on Ruffilo’s face and the excitement in Damien’s that Y/N was winning. After a few moments, with Noah and Y/N looking like they were both about to fall out of their seat, Y/N jumps up and Noah falls back as Damien and Y/N cheer and high-five each other. The boys and I all clap for her and she gives an over-the-top bowing performance, before turning to Noah, who’s throwing a fake pity party. This causes her to sit back down and try to ease her laughter. 

“Awe, I’m sorry, Noah,” she says with a fake pout. He lets out a huff in response, causing her to have to stifle a giggle. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the stage manager walking towards us, and I look over to Y/N. The movement catches her eye as well as she glances at us, getting the hint that we need to head for soundcheck. She stands and walks around Noah so he’s looking at her and leans down. 

“I’ll make this up to you next time,” she tells him with a smile as she turns and walks away, Damien following her. As I was about to turn to follow, I managed to catch Noah’s eyes trailing down Y/N’s body, eyeing up her tattoos, and then just her, as she walked away. I had to hold back a snicker as Cal and I walked away from the group and headed on stage.

Part Two

[muletia]

So. I just read the whole ‘optimus gets minified’ and I have to ask...

May I request one for Pedraking?🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇

— 🩷

𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐥. 𝟐 ༘⋆✿

predaking, ratchet, smokescreen ↳ all are obsessed with you btw

word count: 1300

you used the word “request” and I am currently not accepting them, but!! I love this concept and couldn’t resist adding two other characters…

Oh, no, he absolutely hates it

Predaking has no idea how this even happened. He went into recharge curled protectively around you, shielding you from the world and sharing his warmth, only to wake up small, confused, and utterly incapable of performing the one task his entire existence revolves around: protecting you

So how is he supposed to stay calm? How is he supposed to keep his cool when he’s defenseless? His strength, height, and power — all his greatest assets — have been stripped away. Without them, he can’t be a worthy mate for you. He wouldn’t dare even call himself that anymore. You don’t need a plushie; you need a strong partner, ready to push away any intruder and eliminate anyone who so much as approaches your love nest. In this form, he can’t offer you any of that. He can’t fulfill a single promise he made to you, which leaves him caught between fury and a crushing sense of inadequacy

But why aren’t you panicking? You look surprised, sure, but not terrified, even though you should be! You’re currently defenseless! What if someone decides to steal you away from him? And why are you cooing like he’s a sparkling and reaching out toward him? Oh, you want to pet him...

He won’t make it easy. Startled by your actions, he’ll jump away from you, insisting he doesn’t need your affection right now and that you should hold off until you figure out a solution to this mess.

But he has to stay by your side. He has to protect you, even in this form. He has to be braver, fiercer, compensating for his lost size with sheer determination. No, he won’t leave you for even a second. He’ll protect you with his entire body if necessary

So he returns to you and tries to block the entrance to your love nest, though at his current size, it’s far from impressive. Standing with his back to you, hawk-eyed and focused on the doorway, he doesn’t notice your hand snaking toward his helm. When it rests there and starts stroking, he freezes

Predaking will still try to resist. He’ll growl and brush off your affections, but with every stroke of your hand, his defiance melts away. Boldness gives way to an overwhelming need to be close to you, and soon there’s nothing left of it as he wags his tail, eagerly demanding more pets

It’ll take a long time before he remembers that he’s supposed to protect you 24/7, fully content to bask in your attention and curl up on your lap. Even your constant comments about how sweet and adorable he is stop bothering him surprisingly fast

Still, he will never accept being miniature. Being spoiled by you is undeniably delightful, but Predaking needs absolute certainty that he can defend you from hostile bots. He’ll keep searching for a way to undo this, but until then, you can enjoy your giant, adorable lap dog <3

If Predaking hates his situation, Ratchet downright loathes it

You’ve never heard so much grumpy complaining as during the size-change incident

How can humans live like this? It’s uncomfortable, impractical, weak. You can’t reach anything, the world feels so enormous. Anyone could step on you (payback for his own words, I guess), and you’re so fragile and delicate

And then there’s your behavior toward him. He doesn’t want to be treated like a sparkling. He doesn’t want your cooing and constant repetition of how adorable he is and how much you want to smother his entire faceplate with kisses (although, deep down in his spark, that’s the one thing he truly craves, as betrayed by a subtle blue blush)

He doesn’t know when you got it into your head that he needs your constant care. He can handle himself and intends to work tirelessly until he finds a way to undo this farce. Sure, he’s five times smaller, but that doesn’t mean he’s lost all his competence. He doesn’t need a nanny — especially one who keeps interrupting his work with comments about how adorable he is

But Ratchet is also a hypocrite because, truthfully, he does need you. The sudden shift in perspective is terrifying. Giants become behemoths; they loom over him, threatening to crush him. It’s easy to feel microscopic and overwhelmed, not hard to spiral into panic and uncertainty as wild thoughts conjure up visions of being stepped on. In those moments, Ratchet needs you by his side. He needs to grab onto the hem of your shirt, to feel that you’re there, that everything is okay. You won’t leave him or let anything harm him

Of course, once the fear subsides and Ratchet feels comfortable again, he reverts to his independent and grumpy self, but he’ll stop trying to push you away. He’ll appreciate your presence, even if he never really wanted you to leave him in the first place

The constant work will exhaust him quickly, especially in such a small and frail form, and then he’ll instinctively seek you out. He’ll choose the perfect moment when no one else is in the base, find you on the couch, and climb onto you, ignoring all your questions and comments. He’s tired, doesn’t know how to fix this, and needs you. Let him at least have a few kliks of napping in arms that surround him with safety

You can even kiss his forehead. After all, it’s only fair to repay all the kisses you’ve received from him, so he can feel for himself just how wonderful they are <3

Oh, and imagine a mini jealous Ratchet. He doesn’t like that you’re spending so much time talking to some young bot when you were supposed to be helping him, so he feels the need to take action and drag you away. But he’s so tiny and not at all intimidating that his “rival” can’t take him seriously... especially when he tugs at your clothes like a grumpy sparkling

Oh, so now he can be with you 24/7? Fantastic!

This entire situation is incredibly convenient for him. Sure, at first, he was a bit terrified and downcast that he couldn’t be the perfect partner for you, but he quickly discovered countless benefits to being minified

First and foremost, he gets to accompany you everywhere. He doesn’t leave your side, becoming your shadow. Even at his normal height, he tried to spend every free moment with you, but as a mini version, he’s with you always

Bathroom breaks? Smokescreen follows you, clutching onto the hem of your shirt (you’ll need to explain to him that just because he can fit in there with you doesn’t mean he should)

Feeling like stretching your legs after sitting too long and showering him with affection? He toddles after you, mimicking your every move

Taking a stroll around the base? Definitely not alone.

He’ll drain your energy before evening comes. Since he’s shrunk down to the size of a sparkling, why not act like one to get what he wants?

Need a break from his constant presence and his unique talent for never shutting up? Well, you’re going to have a huge problem because simply interrupting a cuddling session already spells trouble. Trying to untangle yourself from his limbs while avoiding sharp edges of his armor, Smokescreen sprawls across your torso, pinning you to the couch. And even when small, he’s shockingly heavy, effectively trapping you in place. Now you can continue your cuddling and smooching session

He won’t feel a shred of shame or hesitation in using his charm, either. He knows perfectly well that you find him adorable, so he’ll use his big, puppy-like optics to manipulate you to his advantage — for example, to get another round of being carried in your arms

But the most affectionately unbearable he gets is when you need to leave the base. You can’t leave him alone! What if someone steps on him? Or he gets lost in the hangar? You have to stay by his side (forever) at least until Ratchet can fix him. Smokescreen has no qualms about clinging to your leg if it means keeping you near. And no force will pry him off until you say you’ll stay the night <3

[ilostthewar]

When it comes to our 141 boys, who’s the best at cooking? No trigger warnings for this one.

You know it’s Kyle, YOU KNOW ITS KYLE. LOOK AT THIS MAN. He learned to cook growing up and his skills kinda just naturally grew. He definitely used it as a flirting tactic in his fuck boy era, but I imagine he really does enjoy cooking. He gets to play music and vibe around the kitchen, it’s relaxing in a unique way he often isn’t allowed. He can be a little boujie when he wants to be, and he enjoys making different cultural and ethnic dishes he doesn’t get to have on base. He also enjoys the plating and picking good drinks to go with them. Definitely posts pictures of his meals when they turn out the way he wants. Soap will inevitably comment “I’m on my way”, and then an hour later Soap posts a picture of him in Gaz’s house eating his food, way too excited about it and Gaz is in the background glaring at him cause Gaz gave him specific instructions on what drink to bring, and Soap comes over with the same bottle of scotch he always does.

Next, surprisingly, Simon. I imagine when he was younger he didn’t care at all. He would probably steal MREs and just horck em down because sustenance was sustenance, whatever was cheapest and easiest. Very much a bottle of ketchup, 3 beers, and a gun in his fridge type guy. As he gets older, and after therapy that he swore he didn’t need, he probably succumbs to it and tries. Realizes he needs to put effort into the whole “being alive” thing, and cooking just happened to be the thing he tried, especially since as he gets older he realizes he can’t force down half a pizza at 2am and not get heartburn. It’s medative for him, honestly. It’s a low stakes task for him to accomplish, keeps his mind and hands busy. There are clear steps to follow, maybe a video if he’s really confused. And at the end, he’s made something good that he gets to eat. It doesn’t always look the best but he always feels oddly proud about it. He’ll complain if anyone is in the kitchen with him, he hates that shit, actually. But he does like presenting something he made and watching other people enjoy his work. He will stare at people while they eat, and forget to eat himself at first, cause he’s trying to figure out if they actually like it or they’re lying. Unfortunately, it just looks like he’s glaring at you… he will pack you left overs to take with you.

Next is John, what can I say. He’s pretty okay at cooking. He’s not fucking anything up horrendously and most of his food comes out good enough. It simply wasn’t a skill he put a lot of effort into when he was younger. However, there are a few dishes that are his speciality that he nails every time and if his goal is to impress, he pulls them out. Also, he’s out here barbecuing. He’s such a fucking guy about it, too. Stands by the grill, has a whole marinade/seasoning situation that he insists is secret, he stole it off the back of a bbq bottle. Does NOT want anyone to mess with his meats, he’s in control of the grill, don’t touch, his control freak comes out. However, if you linger nearby too long you get dragged into a conversation about “protecting the integrity of the meat” whatever the fuck that means.

And at the bottom is poor Johnny. To be fair, it’s not exactly his fault. One of his issues is that he gets distracted easily, especially with cooking that requires wait times between steps. When he’s at home and his brain is allowed to relax he’ll walk away and then get caught up with something else and come back and remember he was supposed to be toasting the nuts, not burning them. He always wants to experiment with cooking and unfortunately it doesn’t always work. He takes the instructions as a suggestion and ingredients as suggestions, throws in seasonings where they aren’t needed or decides to pull something from the cabinet and toss it in. I think he’s the king of “I don’t know why but it works” combinations, and others will try to turn their nose up at it until they try it, and then they have to admit he was right. I do believe he is GREAT at being a kitchen partner. Give him a little task to do and he’s having a great time, does have a habit of always being in the way, but part of that is because he’s so fucking bulky. The funniest part is he is hilariously great at baking, cause that’s just chemistry and art and he’s great at both of those.

[inseobts]

Fractured Bonds

Kirishima x Traitor!Reader

Summary: years passed since UA, you were one of the traitors. How do your old friends react seeing you again? Especially the one you cared the most, Kirishima.

Warning: none!!

Masterlist

You told yourself it was a mistake to return, but a part of you couldn’t stay away. This place still held fragments of your past, pieces of a life where you were loved, trusted, and full of hope.

Your steps faltered when you caught sight of three figures up ahead. Bright blond spikes, crimson hair, and a familiar mix of white and red. Your heart plummeted.

No.

It was them—Bakugo, Todoroki, and Kirishima.

Panic surge in your chest, but it was too late to turn back. Kirishima’s sharp eyes caught yours first. His expression shifted, disbelief and recognition flickering across his face.

“y/n…?”

Bakugo turned sharply at the name, his crimson eyes narrowing. “What the hell?”

Todoroki’s gaze followed theirs, his face calm but his body tense.

You froze under their stares, a lump forming in your throat. The years apart hadn’t dulled your memories of them—especially not Kirishima. His eyes, softer than you remembered, seemed to bore into your very soul.

“Why are you here?” Kirishima’s voice is quiet, but there’s a hint of something beneath it—hope, maybe. Or hurt.

“I didn’t mean to run into you,” you say quickly, your voice steady despite the tremble in your hands. “I was just passing through.”

“Passing through?” Bakugo snapped, stepping closer. “You’ve got some damn nerve showing your face here after what you pulled!”

His words stung, but you can’t blame him. You had been one of his closest friends back at UA, someone he trusted, someone who had his back during the hardest moments of his life. And then you betrayed him.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you mutter, your gaze dropping to the ground.

“Bullshit,” Bakugo snaps. “You chose them. You chose to side with those bastards.”

“I chose to survive,” you shot back, your voice rising. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to be part of the League?!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.

Kirishima’s brows furrow, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Then why?”

You hesitate, the memories flooding back like a tidal wave. “Because of Dabi.”

The name makes Todoroki’s jaw tighten, but you ignore him.

“He… he saved me,” you continue, your voice quieter now. “When I was at my lowest, when I had no one else, he pulled me out of that darkness. He became my family when I didn’t have one. But I never wanted to be like the rest of them. I always wanted to be a hero.”

Bakugo scoffed, but his anger seems to waver. “So what, you’re some tragic case now? That doesn’t change what you did”

“I know it doesn’t” you say, meeting his gaze “I know I can’t take back what happened. But I didn’t betray you because I wanted to. I did it because I didn’t see another way.”

Kirishima steps forward, his crimson eyes filled with something you can’t name “And now? What are you doing now?”

You hesitate, your hands balling into fists at your sides “I’ve been trying to make up for it. I’ve been stopping what’s left of the League from causing more damage. That’s all I can do.”

Todoroki finally speaks, his voice calm but with an edge of guilt “You’re still angry at my family.”

It wasn’t a question—he already knew.

The mention of the Todoroki family made your blood boil. You turned to him, your glare sharp.

Your glare sharpened, your hands clenching at your sides. “Of course I’m angry. Your father broke him. He destroyed him, and none of you stopped it. Dabi loved you, Shoto. He wanted to be part of your life, and he burned for it—literally. And all of you just stood by and let it happen.”

Todoroki’s face remained stoic, but there was a flicker of guilt in his eyes.

“I’ve heard that before,” he said quietly “And I’m sorry. For everything.”

The apology caught you off guard, but you don’t respond. You turn back to Kirishima, who is watching you with an expression you can’t read.

“I didn’t come here to argue,” you say finally, your voice softer now. “I just… I needed to see this place again. To remember what it felt like to have a chance at being normal.”

Kirishima takes another step closer, his voice gentle “You still have that chance, y/n. It’s not too late to come back.”

Your breath stops at his words, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine it. A life where you could be with him, where you could be a hero like you had always dreamed.

But reality comes crashing back, and you shake your head “It’s too late for me, Kirishima. You deserve better”

His eyes widen, pain flickering across his face. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Before you can respond, Bakugo cuts in. “Enough with this crap. If you’re serious about making up for what you did, prove it. Stop running, and face what you left behind.”

You look between the three of them, your heart aching. You want to believe it was possible, that you can still find a way back. But the scars of your past still feel too deep.

“I’ll think about it” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

And with that, you turn and disappear into the night, leaving Kirishima and the others behind. But as you walk away, you can’t ignore the warmth that linger in your chest from Kirishima’s words—nor the hope that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t too late.