#i don’t really want to debate on it i am very tired and upset

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

~Marriage proposals~

Warnings‼️: genderneutral!reader, established relationship, characterxreader, lots of fluff, Valentino existing, mentions of cannibals/cannibalism, possessive behavior, pet names used, mentions of divorce, some swearing.

A/N: How would the Hazbin hotel characters propose! I might do a vise versa, where reader proposes. But this one is the characters proposing to YOU. Enjoy~!

This is pretty long- I don’t know how to find word count, but if anyone wants more, drop a request :))

?Semi proofread?

Lucifer:

This man is a NERVOUS WRECK.

When he realizes he wants to marry you, he lowkey panics. Starts acting like you guys just now started dating.

He’s super anxious, trying to impress you, and prove that he’s good enough for you.

(Whether he’s trying to prove that to you, or himself, is up for debate.)

The two of you met on a whim. You didn’t really know it was the king of hell you were talking to when you first met.

How could this be the king?? He was so goofy. His playful demeanor immediately drew you in.

With even learning about how Lucifer was, it didn’t stop those fuzzy feelings towards him that bubbled in your chest.

It took him a long time to even get into a relationship with you, due to him being caught up in his past with Lillith.

But overtime, your affection is what gets him through the tough days.

He gets all flustered and embarrassed at your sweet gestures, trying to hide the fact that he’s realizing he wants you to always only be his.

As we know, he had a previous marriage and that commitment failed him before. He had a right to feel nervous of the subject that once bruised his soul.

But in his heart, he truly knows this is what he wants. He wants to spend his eternity with you if you allowed him to.

When the thought has finally settled, and he knows he’s ready to try marriage again, it doesn’t settle his nerves.

This has to be PERFECT-

He needs the perfect ring, the perfect setting, the perfect outfit. All of which he had easy access to, he is the king afterall.

Yet, nothing seems to be perfect enough. Nothing is enough, nothing he can think of matches how strong his feelings are for you.

Once he thinks he’s decided on what will be perfect, he ditches the idea to try and come up with something better.

He consults Charlie on this issue a lot. Including her in this is very important to him. He makes sure she’s comfortable with the idea of him being married to someone who wasn’t her mother.

Charlie is a bit put off by the idea, it’s strange to think about. She never thought of her father getting remarried, but the thought doesn’t necessary upset her. She’s more worried about history repeating itself.

Overall, she wants her father to be happy, and helps him prepare for the proposal in any way she can.

(Mostly moral support because this guy is in emotional turmoil over this.)

He’s in a constant inbetween of if this was the right thing to do. Was it too soon in your guys relationship? Was it too soon after his divorce? Would you even want to spend the rest of your damnation with the one who started it all?

With heavy encouragement and reassurance from Charlie, he finally has the guts to ask you the big question.

But….. when he takes you out on the date where he meant to propose…

He chickens out. (Or ducks out haha)

“It is quite beautiful tonight.. you know I love you, right?……. Good! Yeah-! U-Uh-.. oh my golly! Look at the time! How that darn old thing does fly-Haha! W-We should head home!- boy am I tired-!”

Rinse and repeat this process a handful of times.

You do start to get a bit skeptical of your partners behavior. You guys had been going on extremely fancy dates at least once a week.

And while you had no complaints on spending time with Lucifer, you did notice his strange behavior.

The way his mood would incline before your guys’ date, and then suddenly decline when it was over. Then having to take the rest of the week to heal his pride.

It was just a big rollercoaster of emotions. You were starting to worry you were the cause of his stress.

(I mean. Technically you were)

During one of his many attempts in asking you, he had already internally given up when he stumbled over his words in the middle of dinner.

Your date was coming to a close, and like clockwork, Lucifer’s chipper mood deteriorated.

His shoulders slumped, he was pouty, and dragging his feet on the way back to the castle.

Before the two of you can enter, you grab Lucifer’s hand, stopping him. He gives you a confused look, posture straightening to look at you.

You give him small pecks all over his face, in hopes to cheer him up from whatever was troubling him.

Your actions have the affect you were hoping for, as he laughs and steals your lips into his own, a wide smile on his face as he rests his hands on your waist.

His nerves seemed to dissipate as he felt an overwhelming sense of security and love for you.

His body was moving before his mind could keep up. The moment just felt right.

He pulls away from your shared embrace, reaching into his pocket, and getting down on one knee. He opens the ring box, revealing the glimmering jewelry within it.

You look at him in shock and he returns the same look, surprised at his own actions. Well there was no backing out of it now- (saY SOMETHING LUCIFER-)

It takes him a few seconds to recover from the shock and he’s tempted to just pretend to tie his shoe. But you knew his intentions and watched the nerves wrack their way up his body once again.

Before he can even speak, give a speech he had rehearsed probably a hundred times in front of his mirror, you say yes.

And the relief that washes over this man— the weight that lifted off his shoulders in that moment— felt amazing.

You bend down with him, smiling ear to ear and chuckling as you realized this is why he was so worked up the past couple months.

Tears fill Lucifer’s eyes as he slides the piece of jewelry onto your ring finger.

You kiss away the tears that slip down his face and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a hug.

His tattered heart feeling stitched back together that day.

Alastor:

We all know Alastor isn’t the biggest on romance.

He’s a true gentleman, of course, but public displays of affection and intimate relationships weren’t his cup of tea.

The two of you had know each other for years in the afterlife, yet it was only recently you had put a label on your relationship.

Falling for you was never part of his plan.

He first saw you as an prey, only a possible soul he could claim for his ongoing collection.

But your sickening sweetness unfortunately grew on him over time. He once wanted to take advantage of it, but he became too fond of you to corrupt it.

You moved from his prey to his acquaintance.

You lived in cannibal town where he would frequently visit.

You join the gossip sessions with him and Rosie, indulging in their banter. It starts by you just walking by and throwing a comment towards their conversation you were listening in to. Eventually you had your own designated seat at their table.

Rosie definitely saw the potential the connection you and Alastor had, so she subtly pushes the two of you to hang out more.

This leads to your relationship advancing from mere acquaintances to good friends. The transition quick due to Rosie’s persistence.

Anytime Alastor would visit cannibal town, he would make effort to pay you a visit. He just felt so drawn to your company.

His smile felt less strained, his body would relax, and he could do what he wanted while you served up some fresh pinkie fingers.

There would be occasions of Alastor realizing he’s dropped his guard around you, and he would be snippy and aggressive those days. In fear of going soft and losing his mojo.

The first time he did this scared you,

(I mean obviously, the mans body grows two-ten times in his demon form)

But after a talk with Rosie about it, you tried to be understanding. Instead of falling away or distant with Alastor after his little tantrums, you simply waited it out. When he was back to normal asking softly if he wanted to talk about it or move on.

It wasn’t clear to you when you guys really started being affectionate towards one another. It just kind of happened.

You knew Alastor to be a gentleman before formally meeting him. So him linking arms with you, kissing your knuckles, holding open doors was nothing new.

It seemed like everyone besides the two of you knew the true feelings you two had for each other before you guys did.

You were holding hands, seeing each other everyday, Alastor would give you his coat to borrow on colder days, etc. Just small sweet gestures the two of you would share.

It took an incredible amount of time for Alastor to come to terms with his feelings. He hadn’t done this before and had no control of what his heart wanted. It was scary.

Putting a label on what you guys had didn’t seem necessary. The two of you knew what you meant to each other in an unspoken agreement.

(Rosie did eventually pressure him to actually ask you out however. It was the gentleman’s thing to do)

(But enough backstory)

More often than not, Alastor found himself spending his nights with you. Not to leave until the morning or midday after.

The two of you practically lived together when the overlord wasn’t too busy with other matters.

We already went over how the two of you weren’t big on labels. It wasn’t until Rosie asked that Alastor had even thought about marriage.

“Sooo… when are you going to put a rock on your pretty thang’s finger?”

“Hm? I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What?? You’re kidding right? That darling and you have been together ages! You wouldn’t want someone else swiping them away from you, right?”

“Hah! Never going to happen. Who in their right mind would try that?”

“…”

“You do know where we are, right?”

It had never occurred to the Radio demon before. You guys had made your relationship official of course. Anyone else who would try and court you and take you away from him would be simply insane.

But the thought wormed itself into his brain and flourished.

The thought of not knowing what you were doing 24/7. The thought of someone possibly stealing you away without his knowledge.

The thought of some undeserving sinner having their hands on what belonged to him.

It irked him.

After that conversation with Rosie, say goodbye to your privacy. You’re not going anywhere alone. He can’t risk someone even attempting to steal you away.

It was irritating how he was always tracking you, keeping a shadow with you at all times.

If someone even dared to hold open a door for you that wasn’t him or his shadow, he’d show up at your side in an instant.

It made you anxious and overall, you felt your partner didn’t trust you.

You did express these feelings to Alastor, but your words seemed to phase right through him. You had no idea what had gotten into him to make him (even more) protective.

You joined him in bed one night, as he was stilling up, enjoying a book with jazz music emitting from his aura.

You cuddle close to him, the feeling of fuzzy static that enveloped you a comforter for your slumber.

Before you can let yourself drift off to sleep, your partner closes his book with one hand, the loud thump making you jolt.

“Say darling, what do you think of marriage?”

The sudden ask has you dumbfounded, giving him a deer in headlights stare. (Hah-)

He had never even mentioned marriage before yet here he was now, smiling at you as he waited for your response.

You give honesty, telling him you never really thought of it yourself and you were surprised to hear the idea from him.

You did mention how the subject didn’t draw you away. You knew you loved Alastor with your entire soul. Your heart and soul were his without one of his binding contracts.

Once he hears your approval he snaps his fingers making one of his shadows appear, holding out his signature red coat to him. He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, fishing out what he desired.

He pulled out a small box and handed it to you, his shadow dismissing itself from the scene.

You give him a confused look, before gently opening the box. Your eyes meeting the small band inside.

Oh- he was serious?????

You give him a puzzled look, while he just tilts his head at you, silently asking ‘too soon?’

Your eyes continue to track from the ring, to him, back to the ring, then back to him.

Your hesitation comes off as denial to Alastor, so he reaches out to take the box back. Before he can even lay a finger on it, you pull it to your chest protectively.

You give him a glare for even having the audacity to try and take this away from you. Your actions make him chuckle and hold his hands up defensively.

You slip the band onto your ring finger. Once it’s perfectly snug onto your digit, you pull your partner close to you, peppering his lips with small pecks. Scolding him in between your kisses for being so nonchalant.

He simply chuckles against your affections, telling you the ring will be a reminder you are always his.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Vox:

Vox is not one for settling down. No shot in hell.

Have you seen this man?? Holy hell take a chill pill.

A lot of Vox’s priorities lie with his work. He’s always pushing the boundaries of tech, eager to create something new and be on the face of it.

He never thought of dating. Being tied down to one person made him cringe. So the thought of marriage never even entered his system.

Then there was you of course. Messing up his plans.

How could he not fall for you? You were charming, beautiful, and down right too good for him.

(According to him.)

Your presence and the feelings you gave him made him feel threatened. He tried to put him a wall between the two of you, avoiding you at all costs.

But when he would look at his phone, seeing your icon pop up with messages to him. His fans would kick into gear, his cold heart ticking rapidly in his chest.

Yeah he had it BAD.

When you became a priority to him as well, it kind of threw a wrench in the balance of his schedule.

Yes he loves you but that fact scares him. He wasn’t exactly the safest demon to be around.

So he found it better that the two of you keep your relationship secret. Mostly spending early mornings and late nights with you.

It was difficult to manage. You wanted nothing more than to try hang out with your partner all day but he was always busy.

You would visit him at work, but on very rare occasion. You still owned your soul, which meant Valentino saw it as up for grabs, despite Vox’s warnings (threats) to not lay a finger on you.

As much as you enjoyed visiting your partner at work, you understood his reasonings for being uncomfortable with it.

Besides that, the chance of others seeing the two of you in public was way too high. You guys didn’t usually go on dates.

Your partner was more comfortable having you stay at home, having a double life without him. You lived with Vox, but outside of the time you two spent together, you had your own things going on.

Vox knew about it of course, he cares about you more than anything. He needs to know what’s going on at all times. And what you had going on outside of him was important to him.

He always has a screen pulled up in his monitor room while working. Just to see what you were up to.

The screen usually tracked a camera on you whenever you went out, it displayed your phone screen whenever it was in use, and showed your vitals on the bottom corner of the screen.

He didn’t trust the sinners that roamed these streets, rightfully so. Being able to track you gave him a source of comfort when he couldn’t always be around.

As mentioned before, going out on dates wasn’t really a thing. But Vox would usually clear up one day a month in his schedule. Just to spend the entire day with you.

(Of course he occasionally shuts down, checking how everything is going at V headquarters while he’s not around. Cant take this man entirely away from his work)

You’d spend those days cuddling, ordering in some takeout, and just catching up with each other. Getting in as much affection as you could.

The nights were soft and intimate. It was what you always looked forward to.

Vox had some things to do early morning on the day designated for the two of you. You did pout and complain to him, but he promised to be back as soon as he could.

Hours passed and you started to get a little bit peeved that your partner had yet to return home. Checking the time, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

You get dolled up, pack up a small container of snacks, and head to V’s headquarters.

Making your way through the crowd of demons and sinners. You head up the elevator, but it stops on Valentinos floor.

And with just your luck, the lustful demon is standing there, waiting to get on. When he sees your face, he grins wide and enters the elevator. Standing uncomfortably close.

He blows out his pink slut smoke into the small space, making you cringe and try to waft the stench away from you.

Valentino is touchy and that’s an understatement.

So when he bends down at your level, once again offering a job to you, your heart rate spikes.

Meanwhile, Vox is having a one sided argument with Velvette, the young overlord scolding him as she changed his outfit several times.

It wasn’t often Vox was used as a model for Velvette, but he had actually asked her ahead of time to design something special for you and him.

By ahead of time, he asked yesterday, not giving Velvette nearly enough time.

While he tuned out of his teammate reprimanding him, his watch buzzed, alerting him of your abnormal heart rate.

He gives a confused look, his screen going black for a second as he brought up his home security camera on his screen. When seeing you weren’t at the house, his eye twitched.

Where the hell did you go??

He was brought back, his face glitching in and out as he pulled out his phone, bringing up your location.

He saw how close you were and immediately thought the worst.

He zaps himself into the nearest camera, zipping through the electronics to find where you are.

Within a minute, he’s found you in the elevator, practically cornered by Valentino who was literally drooling on you.

The lights flicker in the elevator as it comes to a screeching halt. Cue your partner showing up with a crack of blue electricity, yanking Valentino away from you by the moth’s wing.

He puts himself in front of you, acting as a shield so you don’t have to be near Valentino’s poison.

“W̵̰̻͍̉̔̅̀̐͐͒͆̒̚ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ǎ̴̯̀͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ f̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍͠͝��̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̂̏͆k̵̘̺̦͉͖̪̪͖͉͊̆̔́̈́̍̃̈́͒̂̑̀̚͜͝ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓’r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ d̶̡̲̗̼̮̤̤̳̲͖͓͍͔͓̓̎̽́̽̏̐͂̆͆͘͘͘ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕??”

(What the fuck do you think you’re doing??)

Vox’s voice glitched out, muted TV static layering his voice as the fans whirled in the back of his head. In a desperate attempt to cool him down.

Valentino doesn’t give much of a reaction, putting his hands up in feigned innocence.

“𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒱𝑜𝓍𝓍𝒾𝑒! 𝐼 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝑜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻-“

“You better watch your mouth.”

“𝒪𝒽𝒽, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝓎𝑒𝓉. 𝒲𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝒾𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓈𝓊𝓇𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒.”

Valentino speaks with sickening sarcasm. You look between the two, incredibly confused. Vox looks like he’s about to explode.

The lights flicker back on, and the door opens, Vox demanding his business partner leave.

The moth scowls at the both of you, before putting one set of hands on his hips, the other set of arms crossing across his chest. In the most sassy way possibly leave the two of you behind.

Vox waits for the elevator door to close before he can breath again. He’s muttering angrily to himself, one hand on either side of his screen as he tries not to blue screen.

You put your hand over his, his cold hand giving you a subtle shock of electricity as you touched him. You give him a concerned gaze, silently asking if he was okay.

Vox looks at you, shoulders relaxing just looking into your comforting eyes. Little bolts of electricity shoot out from the side of his screen as he tries to calm himself, his fans working overtime.

You set down the bag of treats you were bringing for him to hold his hands in your own. You give him a bright smile, concern not leaving your eyes.

You reassure him that whatever he had planned isn’t ruined. You could just pretend you didn’t know! You didn’t want this little run in to ruin your guys’ day.

You ramble on as he just stares at you, almost blankly, his screen fading from blue to a baby pink as he listened to you.

As you’re apologizing for causing trouble, he puts a hand up to stop your little speech.

He reaches into his pant pocket, pulling out a small halo shaped piece of jewelry. He holds your left hand in his own as he gets down on one knee in front of you.

I mean.. you knew he had a surprise planned, but seeing his actions didn’t fail to shock you.

He gives a little speech to you, stuttering and glitching over his words as he tries to explain himself.

For being a perfectionist overlord, this was one hell of a show.

He’s a blushing glitching mess, cursing to himself when he couldn’t find the exact words he wanted to say.

You grab the sides of his screen, looking him in the eyes and forcing him to meet your gaze. You’re saying yes before he can embarrass himself anymore.

He looks a bit shocked by your response, he can’t believe you said yes after that display he just put on. Before he can get the ring on your finger, he blue screens from shock and embarrassment.

You kind of chuckle and sit down beside your partner while you wait for him to reboot. Not like you could go anywhere with the elevator being stuck with the two of you inside. You do gently take the piece of jewlry, sliding it onto your finger and admiring its design.

Cuddling into Vox’s arm, you can’t help but smile brightly at the decorative piece snug on your ring finger.

It was perfect.

[wren-kitchens]

midnight ramblings

I was looking through my wips and found this so here you go lmao

it’s set (obviously) in s8, scarian, if you can think of any tws I need to put please tell me!

“I think we might die.”

grian and scar are perched precariously on the roof of the swaggon, occasionally having to pull the other back onto the flatter part of the slippery copper. the moon is big—hardly a fraction of what it’ll soon be—but big, and the blocks are flying too high for comfort, and grian hasn’t slept for weeks, and the world is in disarray.

scar had come to grian’s house a few hours prior, babbling about something to do with bdubs and the moon’s child and sacrifices that grian just couldn’t make out. but scar looked upset and scared, and grian knew that why he was feeling that couldn’t be helped or changed. 

so, because there was nowhere else really to go, grian brought scar up to the roof and tried to distract him. and it’s worked, they’re distracting each other (because scar of course noticed how equally terrified grian is of all this) very well. but grian is far to tired to filter himself properly, and to be fair it doesn’t seem like they have a lot of time left. so he says it.

scar scoffs a little. “you think, huh?”

grian is laying on his front, staring at midnight alley. “i’m fairly certain.”

“gee, what gave you that idea?” scar asks sarcastically. grian’s noticed that in situations where scar is scared, he typically reverts to sarcasm. he reckons it’s a way of deflecting. “couldn’t be the moon hurtling towards us, could it?”

“no, it’s the fact that we’re on a slippery roof.” grian says. “of course it’s the moon, scar.”

scar is quiet for a moment, and his voice is heartachingly small when he speaks. “why do you think this is happening, g?”

grian sighs. he wishes he could hold scar close and tell him it’s okay, that he can fix it. “I don’t know.” he admits. “I wish I did.”

“mumbo doesn’t.” scar says. “that much is clear.”

grian chuckles. “yeah. I should sleep at some point, whatever he’s doing isn’t working.”

“it’s a good phantom farm at least.” scar says. “i’ll give him that.”

“and the redstone on the statues is cool. or was, when it worked.” grian grins.

“yeah.” scar laughs along. 

grian looks at him. his eyes crinkle in the corners as he smiles. under them are dark smudges, not nearly as big as grian’s but still promenant. his hair is starting to grow shaggy, his suit jacket a little unkempt, skin stained with dirt and oxidised rust from the copper. 

he is, despite it all, beautiful. 

under the silvery light of the bulbous moon, scar looks ethereal. the way it floods his features akin to water over a marble statue makes grian’s heart swell. if grian were to die right now, with this image as the last thing he sees, he wouldn’t mind.

scar turns to him and grins. “taking in the view or about to fall asleep?”

“neither.” grian says easily. “debating whether or not to push you down the roof.” 

“hey!” scar pouts and grian bursts out laughing.

“okay, okay, you’re very handsome and i’m sorry for wanting to push you.” grian smiles. 

“too right I am.” scar says. “you’re very handsome too.” he adds, a softer note to his voice.

“why, thank you.” grian preens.

scar smiles at him, gaze lingering. grian watches as his eyes flicker up and down, from his eyes to his lips and back again. grian finds himself wanting to push his body into scar’s, be held by him until the end of time, scar’s hand in his hair and lips against his forehead.

grian sits up. “come over here, for a moment?”

scar’s eyes narrow with suspicion, but must notice the shy tone in grian’s voice as he nods, and shuffles up the roof to grian. grian immediately climbs into his arms.

“you’re like jellie.” scar chuckles, jokily petting his hair. “what’s up?”

“too tired to figure that out.” grian decides, face buried in scar’s suit jacket. “I wanted to hug you. you’re a very huggable person.”

“I get that a lot.” scar says, like he’s surprised. 

“anyone ever tell you you’re a very kissable person either?” grian smiles to himself.

“I- well, as a joke, I suppose.” scar says, starting to stumble over his words in the endearing way he does when he’s embarrassed. “why?”

grian pulls back and plants a kiss on scar’s nose. “‘cause you are.” he kisses his cheeks, grinning. 

he knows if he wasn’t sleep deprived to the point of it being a medical emergency, he would no way have the confidence to do this. but he mentally thanks mumbo for making this weird cult thing, because it’s lead to the rare treat of seeing scar flustered.

scar’s face fills with colour, and his eyes widen. if grian looks carefully, he can see that scar’s pupils are a little wider than normal.

“oh- oh, g, you’re. you’re very kind.” scar stammers. “I, um. thank you.”

grian’s face must visibly light up, because scar quickly adds, “whatever you’re thinking, mister, don’t do it.”

“scar,” grian says. “would you object to me kissing you.” 

grian doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone more flustered than scar is right now. 

“I- well, I mean-“ scar is looking around frantically, avoiding grian’s gaze. “that, um. that’s an interesting question, i’m not-“

“scar, yes or no.” grian is starting to doubt his judgement. what if he was wrong, and scar doesn’t love him back, and he’s just ruined their friendship, and-

grian’s internal litany of impending doom is cut off when scar says,

“i- I don’t think i, ah. would object to that.”

grian blinks. “really?” he asks, poorly hiding his excitement.

“well, I mean,” scar turns and finally looks at grian. his expression is heartachingly shy. “you’re a pretty kissable person too.”

grian inhales. “oh.” 

“sorry, um. to clarify, do- do you love me?” scar asks, blushing at himself. “‘cause I don’t want to assume or anything.” he adds quickly. “not that it’s bad if you don’t- it’s okay if you don’t, obviously. I wouldn’t wanna pressure you into saying something you don’t believe or-“

grian presses a quick kiss to scar’s lips. when he pulls away, he grins shyly.

scar stares at him for a moment. “is- is that a hint for me to stop talking?” he asks.

“yes, because I can’t get a word in edgeways.” grian tells him. “how else am I supposed to say yes?”

“oh.” scar’s voice is ever so soft, and he’s looking at grian like he’s only the person alive, and it’s all too much for his sleep deprived brain but he’s so happy.

“if we die,” grian says. “will I be able to go out, calling you my boyfriend?”

“only if I can call you mine.” scar smiles, like he’s surprised at just how well this night is going. 

“then i’d say we have a deal.” grian says, burying himself in scar’s embrace again. 

“g.” scar says gently. 

“mhm?”

“we should sleep.”

grian reluctantly looks up. “I think you’re right.”

“I don’t think we should sleep here.” scar says. 

“scar,”

“yeah?”

“i’m too tired to move.” grian says.

“you nightmare.” scar says, so fond it almost breaks grian’s heart. “alrighty mr birdie, let’s get you to bed.”

scar opens his elytra, before scooping grian up in his arms. 

“i’m only sleeping if you stay with me.” grian says, eyes already drooping shut.

“i’m not leaving you, g.” scar assures him.

“i’m going nowhere.”

[psalacanthea]

Thanks @oxygenforthewicked for the WiP Wednesday tag!  I’m not writing this week due to Reasons, but I dug this out and I hope it’s amusing.  Texting Thursday?  IDK.  Lol.  A little Darian Tabris x Zevran Arainai x Liana Mahariel (plus baby Adaia)

Arainai/Mahariel/Tabris Family Chat

...

Darian:  So say somebody got rested last night

Darian:  Arrested

Darian:  But they already got bailed out and theres no charges filed 

Darian:  Because someone had proof of 

Darian: Hang on autocorrects not getting it

Darian: Excessive force 

Darian:  The **** Templar’s Office isn’t going to file charges cousin **** threatened to release video of them threatening to curb stomp me when I stopped them beating on um this mage ****

Zevran: Don’t use speech to text.  You always get angry at it. 🖤

Darian:  I’m tired of **** spelling things wrong shut up and listen okay

Darian:  How I get it to make a question

Zevran:  You have to say question mark.

Darian:  They kept me overnight just to scare me **** cowards like I ain’t been in jail before I burned down **** Denerim once

Darian:  Well three blocks of it anyways

Zevran:  Your wife wants me to tell you that she’s going to kill you.

Darian:  **** why’s she just my wife?

Zevran:  My wife would never have a reason to get so angry.  Obviously.  I do not get caught. 

Darian:  That’s not how it works she’s your wife even when she’s mad at me

Zevran:  Did you get video of you fighting them?  I’m assuming that is what happened.

Darian:  Yea I got the whole thing Shianni recorded it

Zevran:  Send it I want to watch. 🗡️

Lia:        NO.

Darian:  Hi bby

Zevran:  That is my cue to open a bottle of wine.

Lia:        You put that video on a physical storage device and delete it off of your phone RIGHT now!  How many times have I lectured you about data security?

Darian:  lol

Lia:       Derry don’t you dare laugh this off.  I’m very serious.  You need backups, you need physical storage, and you need to delete it off your phone.

Darian:  Love you baby

Lia:       What does that have to do with anything?

Darian:  I got **** arrested and this is what you’re worried about it’s just cute as ****

Zevran:  It is extremely cute.

Lia:       Yes it’ll be very cute when the Templars you upset show up at your door, take your phone and destroy it, and beat you to within an inch of your life.  Do you not remember what happened in Amaranthine to Anders?  

Zevran:  No love that doesn’t sound cute.

Lia:        You’re not helping.

Zevran:  Oh.  I was not trying to help.  I am a neutral party in this debate.

Lia:        Data security isn’t something we can be complacent over!

Zevran:  😂😂😂 🖤

Darian:  **** lol

Lia:       Just…send me the video and delete it, please.  I’ll handle it.

Zevran: Hi da

Darian:  Baby girl!  Hi Adaia are you being good for mama and papa?

Zevran:  No

Darian:  Lolol

Lia:        At least your daughter is honest.

Darian:  You gotta try baby girl.   Da will be home soon and then we can cause trouble together

Zevran:  She handed me my phone back and said: I’m too tired for this

Darian:  Gee wonder where she got that from

Zevran:  [image ID: an elven toddler with dark brown curls, golden eyes, and sunglasses on top of her head is dressed in a fuzzy purple bathrobe and Griffey Griffin cartoon character slippers.  She’s holding a wine glass that’s much too large for her, full of pale effervescent liquid.  Her face is painted with garish makeup and a child’s attempt at drawing Vallaslin, and her tiny fingernails have been carefully painted black.]

Darian:  IS THAT FUCKING WINE?

Lia:       …Derry it’s sparkling grape juice.  Baby wine.

Zevran:  Seriously love?

Darian:   Can’t you put it inn one of her little plastic cups or something shell break it

Darian:  We don’t have many good dishes

Lia:        You bought that wine glass from the dollar store.

Zevran:  Did he really think we would give her wine?

Lia:        From a man who spent the night in jail, no less.

Darian:   🤬

Zevran:  😂 

Lia:        Good job successfully changing the subject, Zev.

Zevran:  😏 😏 🖤

Zevran:  Addy wants you to do my nails, too.

Lia:        Do you want black, purple, orange, or holographic sparkles?

Zevran:  Orange with sparkles.  Do you do Orlesian tips?

Darian:   That sounds like a sex thing

Lia:         It really does.

Darian:  GTG babe sweetie I will try not to get arrested again

Darian:  Love

Zevran:  I love you.  Addy loves you too.

Lia:        I love you, please send me the video.  Have Shianni delete it, too.

Darian:  Data security

Zevran:  Data security! 

Lia:       😒

[lissbutnobliss]

Okay, can we have a talk.

This ending was… questionable. But very logical. I mean, everything was foreshadowing to that, we should’ve known and I am not surprised.

I have very mixed feelings about it and I don’t really know how to explain all of them, but let’s start with that:

1. I am proud of Tommy for writing this. No matter how some aspects of these are srewed and how some are not good in the message, he still did a great job. I mean, imagine being responsible for ending ALL of this? The server that was so big and gave so much to millions of people, and you are the one to write an ending of the story.

Endings are hard to write. I am sure, everyone who’s every written a story will agree with me. Happy endings are even harder, because if you have a long and complicated story, with so much angst in it, it’s almost always troubling to find a satisfying happy ending. And successfully lead everything to that.

And the fact that Tommy took the responsibility to finish this MASSIVE story is admirable. I know I wouldn’t do that on his place, wouldn’t have the guts. I am proud of him.

2. Being proud of Tommy though doesn’t make me less irritated with the last confrontation he and Dream had. I feel like everybody here already mentioned how the fact that his character said sorry to his abuser is… not great. Awful honestly.

And it annoys me. As an always inniter and c!Tommy enjoyer, I can’t be less angry with that. Because it’s not right. Dream did too much fucked up shot to earn that apology. Even if Tommy hurt him too, it’s not something you can redeem.

3. But I understand. I completely understand why cc!Tommy wrote it that way.

Hear me out.

c!Tommy is one of the most compassionate and emotionally smart characters on that server. He was always the one to see good in others no matter what. Even if he didn’t always act that way. I mean, just remember his conversation with c!Foolish: ‘I believe everyone have a little bit of good in them’, ‘I think Wilbur is a good person, but he’s been playing a bad guy for a long time’, ‘It’s not about giving him a second chance, it’s not about giving him a third chance, it’s not about chances! It’s about not giving up on people you care about’.

If there was a character on a server to understand (not forgive, c!Tommy didn’t forgive him or joined him, he understood c!Dream) the monster, it’s Tommy.

It makes so much sense for his character to realize the part of the picture he hasn’t seen before and accept his flaws and mistakes. Apologizing to c!Dream is a bad message. But it makes so much sense that c!Tommy did that. It’s about not giving up on people, eh?

4. Which makes me a little bit happy. Not a lot, but just a smidge. Just knowing that if they survived, c!Tommy would heal. After all, sometimes to heal from something awful like an abuse you need to understand what exactly happened.

And don’t take it as me saying that ‘Tommy should’ve realized that he is in fault for everything that happened’, because fuck no. He isn’t, and he is still a victim in this situation.

I mean it as the understanding and coming to terms with it would give him the closure he needed.

He would’ve healed, if they survived.

5. And of course I am devastated. I understand why people think of this finale as an awful one. I am in shambles. It’s so hard to take in the fact that everything just got erased.

I am a big c!clingy duo enjoyer. I loved a lot of other characters too, but they were the best for me. They were the ones who I would always love, no matter what. Hell, I even watched those streams despite Dream being in them just because I would never not watch an ending of c!clingy duo.

I wont repeat what others said about why this finale is sad and awful and devastated. I will only say the thing that makes it the worst for me.

Tommy and Tubbo didn’t get to meet that end together. They were so close to each other, a few more minutes, and Tubbo would’ve be there. But they didn’t, and I am just. I just. I hope people will write c!clingy duo fix its. I don’t even really need the rewriting of that particular stuff. Just maybe them going to the Moon and being happy and raising Michael together on stories about all the friends they had. Please.

That’s kind of the mix of my feelings.

——

I also wanted to talk about messages in general.

The Dream SMP story as cc!Wilbur once said is always not characters influencing the plot, but plot influencing the characters. And that’s what was best about it in my opinion. There was no meta gaming, it was a raw reaction of people in the situation, not from the distance.

So sometimes it’s not about writing the tight message. It’s about how that character would act right there and right now.

And all of this ‘i know *blank* better than *cc blank*’ is fun and all, I also post stuff like that, and it helps to say fuck you to canon to feel better. But no, we don’t know those characters better than ccs who play them. At least because it’s not our characters. We know their fanon versions better, sure. We know our versions of those characters better. And that’s cool! That’s how fandom works! But just imagine someone read a story about your own OC and said that they understand them better than you.

Why I am writing is: we can all be pissed off at the I am sorry to c!Dream thing. We should, honestly, it’s a bad message. But the thing is, it’s not about the writing, it’s about the person (in form of c!Tommy) and what this person feel and thinks after living through everything they did. That what was making Dream SMP so beautiful. The story was the driving force, not the characters. And I kind of appreciate that cc!Tommy didn’t metagame it till the end, but just went along with what it would lead his character too.

[dycefic]

The Late Traveller

I should have known, of course.

A little old hotel in the middle of nowhere, with a creaking wooden sign instead of neon? Red flag.

A hollow-eyed, weary-looking young woman at the desk who seemed hesitant to let me get a room? Red flag.

A picturesquely old-fashioned room with a patchwork quilt on the bed that smells a little too musty? HUGE red flag.

Only they’re actually not. Not the first two, anyway. I travel a lot. There are a lot more seems-haunted old-house-turned-traveller’s-rest places than most people think, and in my experience most night auditors are hollow-eyed, faintly eldritch, and disinclined to let someone check in just before dawn.

Of course, the patchwork quilt should have been a dead giveaway. Tired 80s decor and a chenille bedspread? Entirely normal. Patchwork quilt and nineteenth century charm for less than $100 a night? Sus. Very sus. Should have warned me then and there.

In my defense, I was really tired. I’d been driving for two nights and a day, I was exhausted, all my car snacks were gone, and I just wanted to close my eyes and get horizontal. I handed over some cash, stumbled upstairs, made sure the blinds were down, and passed out.

I didn’t wake up until late afternoon, and I felt like shit on a shingle when I did. It took me a couple of attempts to put on my pants and stumble out of the room to look for some sustenance. My expectations weren’t high, but most places at least have coffee-making facilities, and in a pinch a cup of coffee and chugging all the available milk will keep me going for a while. There might even be some of those little packages of cookies, which usually give me an upset stomach but are better than nothing.

There wasn’t a coffee station. What there was was a vending machine with a buzzing, flickering light inside it that made the dusty snacks look even less appealing than they already did.

I was debating whether to risk a can of soda of unknown brand and vintage - sugar and caffeine don’t readily go bad, and I was starving - when I heard a little cough behind me. “Are you a guest, dear?” the old woman said when I turned around to blink at her. She was thin and tottering, faded-looking, and while there weren’t actually cobwebs on her, she looked as if there should be.

“Yes. Is there a kitchen or something where I can get some food from this century?”

Her eyes flicked away. “There’s a diner,” she told me. “Not far down the road. You should try there. I’m afraid the facilities here aren’t what they once were.” She sighed deeply.

Belatedly, my sense for the uncanny started to tingle. “So I should check out and keep moving, huh?”

“Yes, dear. If you can,” she added, and she glanced over her shoulder. “Before sunset.”

Aha.

I could have been more tactful with the old dear, I suppose, but I didn’t have it in me just then. “Lady,” I said, folding my arms and glaring at her, “I am very tired, and very hungry, and being tired and hungry makes me very cranky, so I’d really appreciate it if you could get to the fucking point. You’re a ghost. This is one of those haunted hotels that lure in travellers to sacrifice them to demons or beg them to break curses or whatever. Fine. That’s on me. Shouldn’t have been suckered in. But enough with the veiled warnings. Just tell me what you want.”

The old woman hissed softly, like a startled cat, but she didn’t vanish on me. That was good. The really timid spirits did, and it was annoying as shit. Then she shook herself and cocked her head. “I see,” she said, her voice stronger but less human-sounding. Ghost voices don’t have the body of a human voice, unless they really work at it. “You’re not… ordinary.”

“That’s an understatement.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay. You’re here. You’re trying to warn people off, so you’re not a willing participant in whatever’s going on here. I don’t mind releasing you, because I personally find the binding of unconsenting spirits to be a disgusting abomination, but if you don’t get to the point I’m going to get even testier than I am now.”

“We’re bound here.” The night-auditor was in the doorway, three or four shadowy figures behind her. I heard a faint murmur that suggested there were more further back where I couldn't see. “He traps us, and kills us, and then we’re still trapped.”

“Okay, there’s a he. Necromancer?”

“Not exactly,” the old woman said grimly. “It’s the fear that sustains him, the fear and the suffering. Do you know how long it takes someone to starve to death?”

“About a month, usually.”

“He can usually drag it out to at least two, by allowing a little food now and then. An illusion of hope.” The old woman looked bitter. “I was the first. This was my house. He came, one night, and I opened my door to a lost traveller. I’ve had many long years to regret that.”

I allowed myself a small growl. That wasn’t just evil, it was rude. “Well, he made a mistake this time, just like you did.” I paused. “He’s not a demon or something is he? Because that takes special equipment, and I’m not sure I have enough wormwood in the car.”

“No, he’s no demon. Only a mortal magician who draws power from the suffering of others.” This was a spirit who hadn’t spoken before, a man with the pouchy, drooping look of a stout man who’d lost a lot of weight before he died. He looked shrewd, though, and the look he gave me was assessing. “He’s living.”

“Oh, good. In that case, lead me to him.” I felt in my pockets for the charm I’d picked up six small towns ago. I tend to tap out protective charms fairly quickly, but this one still had some life in it. She’d been a gifted witch, that one… and a good kisser, too. I’d try to stop by there again soon.

They led me down to the cellar, and showed me the hidden door. In theory, the door couldn’t be opened from the outside. In practice, most doors open once you put your fist through them and then rip them right off their hinges. That sounds impressive, but behind the disguising layer of dried clay it was one of those flimsy modern doors that’s basically made of laminated paper and plywood a toddler could break through.

I went through the door fast, not wanting to give him time to get a spell ready if he didn’t already have one going. He hadn’t been expecting me to come through the door - I got a look into his scrying mirror over his shoulder, and he was watching my car. Probably getting ready to pixie-lead me back to the hotel when I tried to leave, the normal next step in this game.

I’d taken him completely by surprise. He managed one hex-bolt, which I shrugged off, and then I had hold of him. Like most of the spider-types, who let their webs do their hunting for them, he wasn’t physically strong or fast. I am.

Much more so than any human.

It felt fitting, that a man who starved and tormented his prey should find that he’d caught a bigger predator than he was. I didn’t drop the body until I’d drained it of every accessible drop of blood. We don’t usually do that, despite the stories. We’re still equipped with all the usual human organs, and a human stomach is not designed to hold five liters of fluid in a hurry. Ours do get a bit bigger, over time, taking up some of the space in the abdomen that the atrophied bowel doesn’t need any more, but I still felt as bloated as a tick when I finally dropped him.

“I needed that,” I admitted, licking a trace of blood off my lips and tucking the feeding fangs away behind my teeth. “Thank you.”

The ghosts might have feared a vampire in life, but they all looked delighted now. They clearly appreciated the poetry of the man who had starved them being devoured before their eyes. “At least he left someone with a full belly,” the girl who’d posed as a night auditor said with satisfaction. They were already looking less… real, and less human. Without magical anchoring, ghosts who have been dead for a while can’t usually pass for living any more. There were at least thirty of them, all up. He'd been here for a long time.

“His spells still bind us here,” the formerly-stout man said, tugging on something I couldn’t see with spectral hands. “Can you undo them?”

“Technically, no. Most vampires aren’t magicians.” I grinned at him. “But here’s an interesting fact. Phosphorus fires burn magic. That’s why so many vampire and magician strongholds are burned down.”

He grinned back, a deaths-head grin that would have frightened someone mortal. “And you have phosphorus?”

“Got some in the car. I’ll go get it as soon as the sun goes down and set this place alight.”

We had a nice chat until sundown. The old lady showed me around, and I filled a few boxes with antiques and other valuables or items of sentimental value that she didn’t want torched. I put all the identifiable stuff the wizard had taken from his victims - IDs, rings, engraved watches, that sort of thing - in a separate box, and buried it with enough juice from the corpse that any dog, sniffer trained or otherwise, would go straight to it. The ghosts’ bodies were all buried under the floor of the cellar, they said, so once the fire was out and the investigation started, they’d be found.

Of course not all vampires are alike. We’re as different as any humans are from each other. But most of us feel a certain kinship with our fellow dead, especially the ones who didn’t go by choice. I volunteered to be turned, but I know plenty who didn’t, and I don’t care for that any more than I do for binding spirits. It was a pleasure to be able to help them out, and make sure their families found out what happened to them.

It doesn’t take much phosphorus to set a fire. When I drove away, the house was already ablaze, and the ghosts had vanished.

Or so I thought. Three miles down the road, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a familiar face. “Haunting the photographs, huh?”

The old lady shrugged. “I can if I want to.”

“I’m not judging. Anywhere you want me to take them?”

She beamed. “Somewhere interesting. A museum or something, where there are a lot of people and interesting things to see.”

So yeah, I’m basically the reason there’s a haunted 200-year-old patchwork quilt hanging in the Texas Quilt Museum. I donated it, along with the picture of my old lady’s grandmother (who made the quilt) and the old lady (who I credited with the donation). Nobody seems to have noticed yet, except a local witch who’s started hanging out there to get knitting advice from the old lady.

You know, vampires get a bad rap, but we really do a lot of good for the community… in our own way.

#

Note: To my knowledge, there isn’t a haunted quilt in the Texas Quilt Museum. But the museum itself exists, which is very neat, and it looks well worth the visit even without a ghost.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Evans

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gets jealous after he witnesses a moment between you and Chris Evans

Masterlist

As much as you loved filming the movies, your favorite part about being in the MCU was going to the conventions.

You loved getting on stage with your cast mates and answering questions. You especially loved when you got to attend the conventions with your best friend Tom. Your fondest memories with him were made during nights following a convention. You’d always get a joint hotel room and stay up late, too buzzed on adrenaline from the panel to fall asleep.

Going to conventions with Tom usually opened up a whole new debate on the nature of your relationship. Snap chats and Instagram stories made from the same hotel room always set off more theories that you were dating. You weren’t, but you didn’t mind the theories.

The current panel you were at was no different from the others. The whole cast stood in a line, with you sandwiched between Tom and Mackie. You listened along to all the questions asked until you heard your name.

“Chris, you and Y/n worked together in the past on Scott Pilgrim vs The World, where you played one of her evil ex boyfriends.” The journalist said to Chris Evans. “How did you react when you heard she was joining the MCU cast?

“I was really happy about it.” Chris said into his mic. “I’ll admit, I had a bit of a crush on Y/n when we were filming Scott Pilgrim so I was very excited when she got added to the cast.”

Tom felt his ears turn pink when he heard Chris’s confession. It was no secret that he liked you, but he had no idea Chris liked you too. He looked to you to see your reaction, mouth going dry when he saw the shocked smile on your face.

“Are you serious?” You laughed in surprise. “I had a crush on you too.”

Tom turned away a little, suddenly feeling a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. “How did I not know?”

“Because I was awkward and shy and didn’t know how to talk to you.” You said sheepishly as you pressed a cold hand to your face. “But I swear, I told Michael and Anna all about it.”

Tom lowered his microphone so the crowd couldn’t hear him gulp. He didn’t know why it bothered him as much as it did to know you and Chris had feelings for each other. You had filmed Scott Pilgrim a few years back, so the feelings were long gone by now. Still, it sent a white hot jealously through Toms veins as he watched you and Chris smile at each other.

“I can’t believe you never told me.” Chris chuckled. “I actually remember being upset that we didn’t have a kiss in the movie. I was like, how am I playing one of her boyfriends but we don’t get to kiss?”

“Aw.” Tom forced a laugh. “Poor you.”

The audience laughed at his joke, but you never took your eyes off Chris.

“I was genuinely upset about it at the time.” Chris continued. “I think I called my mom to complain.”

Tom watched with a tight jaw as you held your hand over your heart and beamed. You were obviously loving the attention from Chris while Tom was hating it.

“Hey, I didn’t write the script.” You shrugged. “I definitely would’ve thrown one in there if I had.”

“I think the movie is perfect as it is.” Tom cut in, earning a few laughs. “I don’t think there needed to be a kiss. Kisses are stupid anyway.”

“Wait a minute, we almost kissed in the last movie too.” Chris remembered. “To like hide our faces from HYDRA agents or something.”

“That’s right.” You gasped. “They took it out before we ever shot it.”

“Such a shame.” Chris clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Missed you twice now.”

The reaction from the audience made you hide your face in embarrassment, feeling your face hot to the touch.

“I promise, you’re not missing much.” You laughed shyly.

“Yeah, well.” Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I bet I was.”

Just when Tom thought it couldn’t get any worse, he saw an idea pop into your head.

“Wait, hold my mic.” You said as you handed your microphone to Anthony.

Tom could only watch as you walked across the stage and put your hands on either side of Chris’s face before pulling him into a kiss. The audience was deafening as Chris kissed you back. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to make all the color drain from Toms face. You both pulled away laughing, Chris with his signature hand over his left side. You clapped your hands as you laughed before walking back to your spot.

“Well damn.” Anthony said into his microphone. “I didn’t get to kiss her either.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian teased. “Do we all get some of that?”

“Shut up.” You laughed shyly as you fixed your hair. “There. Now you got your kiss.”

“Thank you.” Chris laughed into his microphone. “I was not expecting that.”

“Neither was I.” Tom mumbled, his microphone hanging limply at his side. The rest of the panel went by without any further flirtations, but Tom wouldn’t have known if there had been. He had completely zoned out, too upset with what he had seen to focus.

~

You unlocked the door to your shared hotel room and saw Tom sitting at the kitchen table. His face was buried in his phone and he skimmed through the endless amount of tweets about the kiss from earlier. It was only making him more angry to see thousands of gifs and pictures of it, as well as all the messages from fans saying what a cute couple you and Chris made, but he couldn’t stop. He was too busy scrolling to hear you come in.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you set your stuff down. “You did such a good job out there. I swear, you always get the most laughs. It’s not fair.”

“Hm.” Tom nodded, keeping his eyes on his phone. “Thanks.”

“Is everything okay?” You frowned when you noticed his standoffish behavior. You walked over to him and reached out to touch him, but he moved away.

“Yeah.” He shrugged unconvincingly. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“I didn’t ask if we were fine.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are we not fine?”

“I said we were fine.” He held up his hands in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Sorry I asked.”

Tom gave you a sarcastic smile and went back to his phone, completely ignoring you now. You didn’t know what his problem was, but you knew you didn’t want to fight.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? You can pick this time.” You offered, trying to offer an olive branch.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired.” He said faintly. “I think I’m just gonna turn in.”

“Really? It’s so early.” You checked your phone and saw it was only 8 pm. “And I’m bored.”

“Yeah?” He finally looked up at you. “Then why don’t you go see what Evans is up to? I’m sure he’d love to finish what you started on stage today.”

You jutted your head back in surprise, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. He looked partial to guilty for snapping at you, but his anger was the most prominent emotion.

“What?” You laughed in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you kissing Evans in front of all those people.” He snapped. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”

You laughed again, thinking he had to be joking. You never said it out loud, but you assumed Tom knew you liked him. After all, you were the only cast mates sharing a hotel room.

“I don’t.” You said, unsure where that accusation came from.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Cause it kinda looked like you did.”

“I don’t.” You repeated. “I used to when we were filming Scott Pilgrim a few years ago but I stopped before we even wrapped.”

“Then why did you kiss him?” Tom asked, his voice wearing thin.

“I don’t know. We were joking around.” You shrugged it off. “It was for the fans, if anything. You know how much they love that stuff.”

“They would’ve loved it just as much if you had just blown him a kiss.” Tom said. “You didn’t have to kiss him.”

“Who cares?” You asked. “Everyone loved it.”

“Not everyone.” He stated, keeping his eyes on the ground. You looked at him for a moment, realizing you had never seen him act like this.

“Why are you getting so upset about this?” You asked calmly, still not understanding.

“Because what you did upset me.” He shouted as he gestured to himself.

“Why?” You raised your voice as well now. “It was just a stupid joke. It had nothing to do with you.”

“It wasn’t a joke to me.” He shook his head. “Watching you practically run across the stage to kiss him in front of all those people was not a joke.”

“I didn’t run across the stage.” You said, starting to get annoyed. “I walked to him and kissed him. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”

“Did you like it?” He asked with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“Did you like kissing him?” He repeated as he let out a shaky breath.

“You know how it feels to kiss other actors.” You shrugged. “It just felt like lips on lips.”

“You must have some sort of feelings for him to kiss him like that.” He said, his eyes looking glassy.

“So what if I do?” You retorted, angry with him now for yelling at you.

“What?” His voice came out in a whisper. “Do you?”

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying? I don’t have feelings for Evans. But if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Because maybe you haven’t realized this yet, but you’re not my boyfriend.” You yelled, making him retreat into himself.

The silence that followed was deafening, making you feel guilty for what you said. You felt like you popped the happy bubble that you and Tom lived in, the one where you never confronted your feelings for each other but understood that they were there. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and let out a long sigh as he looked you in the eyes. He gave you a sad smile and nodded his head as if he was reluctantly agreeing with you. You opened your mouth to speak, but Tom was already moving past you. His shoulder brushed yours as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You stood there in shock, unsure of what just happened. You felt like you had just broken up with someone you were never actually with. You covered your mouth with your hand, ashamed with what you had said to him. You hit him where you knew it would hurt him and now he was gone.

~

Despite sharing a hotel room, you didn’t see Tom until the next morning. He was eating breakfast at the kitchen counter, not looking at you as you made coffee. You sighed and sat down next to him, knowing you had to make things right before you went out to do press. You didn’t want to spend a full day doing interviews with him without resolving the fight.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.” You began as you watched his face for his reaction. “It was mean of me to tell you you weren’t my boyfriend like that.”

“It’s okay.” He mumbled as he stirred his tea. “You don’t have to apologize. You were right. I’m not your boyfriend.”

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You said softly as you looked at him. You could tell he was still bitter about the kiss.

“I don’t want-“

“We have to.” You cut him off. “We had a fight and now we need to talk about it.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before slumping in his seat.

“You start.” You said as you put your folded hands on the table.

“I don’t know where to start.” He mumbled.

“Just tell me how you feel.” You suggested. Tom sighed as he put his words together in his mind, wanting to make things right just as much as you did.

“I didn’t like it even you kissed Chris.” He said softly, keeping his eyes on the table.

“I got that part.” You tried to joke. “Why?”

“Because he’s older and taller and bigger than me.” Tom listed off.

“And?” You were confused.

“And I can’t compete.” Tom whispered, hanging his head in shame. The fragility in his voice made your heart break and you realized he was never angry with you.

He was heartbroken.

“Tommy, you don’t have to compete with anyone.” You said softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“I didn’t think I had to.” He continued. “I thought I had you. I know we don’t really talk about…us, but I thought we had an unspoken agreement that we liked each other. I know I liked you and I thought you liked me back until you…”

“Until I what?” You asked.

“Kissed another boy.” He laughed sadly. “Sorry. A man. Captain freaking America.”

“You were jealous.” You realized, trying to fight back a smile. “That’s why you threw your little tantrum.”

“How could I not be?” He looked up. “Have you seen how broad his shoulders are?”

You had to laugh, which made him crack a smile. The tension had disappeared and you had entered new territory, so you decided to keep going.

“And have you seen the way I look at you?” You teased him. “Or the way I immediately go to you in a crowded room? Have you seen how I’m always finding a way to touch you? Does any of that sound familiar?”

“Yeah.” Tom smiled sheepishly. “It does.”

“I like you too.” You admitted. “Of course I like you too. But I already told you, that kiss was just a joke. It was just for the fans.”

“I know.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “It just shook my confidence, you know? I figured if he wanted you too, I didn’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t want him.” You assured him. “I want you.”

Toms lips curved into a smile, a proud look coming across his face. He reached over and put his hand on top of yours, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I never should have yelled at you.” He said quietly as he stared at your hands. “I just hated that he got to kiss you before I did.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “But you can’t flip out and yell at me when you get a little jealous. You have to be okay with me being close to other people.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I got so jealous.” He shook his head at himself. “I’m not that guy. I don’t want you thinking that’s who I am.”

“I know who you are.” You leaned over the table and tilted his chin so he would look at you. “Why do you think I like you as much as I do?”

“I like hearing you say that.” He mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips.

“I like saying it.” You smirked at him as you began to lean in.

Before your lips could touch, his phone buzzed, making both of you jump. Tom sighed and picked up his phone to see what the interruption was.

“Shoot. That’s Rachel.” He frowned. “She wants me down at hair and makeup. Can we talk about this later? This is really important to me and I don’t want to rush it.”

“Of course.” You nodded. “Go get your hair done. We’ll talk later.”

Tom gave you an apologetic smile before getting up and putting his cup in the sink. He moved to the door but you stood up.

“Tom, wait.” You called, quickly walking to where he was. You put your hands on his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting it linger until you felt his cheeks heat up.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You told him, making him feel better about missing out on the kiss. He smiled softly and nodded before leaving the hotel room. You left to get your own hair and makeup done, an idea forming in your mind as you sat in your chair.

~

After getting hair and makeup done, you walked down to the lobby and went into one of the conference rooms. You saw the rest of the cast standing in a circle and went up to to them.

“There she is.” Anthony clapped as you walked up to the group. “Mrs. Evans.”

“Don’t start with that. You’re just mad it wasn’t you I was kissing out there.” You teased him, making him laugh.

“Maybe. I have a feeling I know who else is mad.” He said as he nodded his head to gesture to something behind you. You turned around and saw Tom approaching, a smile taking over your features at the sight of him. He gave you a knowing look and stood next to you as he joined the group.

“Hey guys.” He greeted, shooting Chris a quick look.

“There you are.” You smiled a little before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a kiss. You felt his wide eyes flutter shut, eyelashes tickling you as he closed his eyes. He stepped forward to get closer to you before bringing his hand to face. The cast exchanged knowing looks right before you pulled away, a smile on both of your faces.

“Woah. When did that happen?” Scarlett nudged you.

“I thought it’d been happening for a while.” Anthony snorted. “Was I the only one?”

“No, I definitely saw something there. That’s why I was so surprised about yesterday.” Chris chuckled. You felt Tom tense up when he mentioned it, so you gave him a look. He relaxed and nodded, reminding himself he had nothing to be jealous of.

“I was surprised too.” He said, keeping his tone playful. “So don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t.” Chris held up his hands. “Dodger and I are very happen on our own. He’s not willing to share me with anyone.”

“He and I have that in common then.” Tom said as draped his arm around your shoulders.

“Whats that?” You asked as you looked at Tom. He gave you a soft smile before pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

“I don’t like to share.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer​ @michaela072796​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​ @unbelievableholland​ @flixndchill @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​ @itscaminow​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours  @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy  @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @itmatteredatthetime @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy  @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion @leilanixx @namoreno @bi-lmg @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep @veryholland  @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @w0nderzwndaya @fanficaddict13125 @pinklxmonade @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242

[comfortbucky]

bestie !!!!!!! roomate bucky hcs pls???? like just silly ideas ab being buck’s roomate

BESTIE !!! u are fueling my roommate!bucky obsession and i am 1000000% okay with it

𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲!𝗯𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘆 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡

pairing: bucky x gender neutral! reader

my masterlist!

completed requests!

we’re starting off with grumpy!bucky because ,,,,, ofc

at first he’s annoyed with ur bubbly personality

he literally can’t imagine how someone could be so bright and positive all the time

u recently moved to the city, so u don’t know a single soul

which is why ur constantly trying to become friends with bucky

“hey, bucky! do u wanna watch tv?”

“i found this really cool coffee shop, do u wanna go check it out?”

“i’m headed to the grocery store, do u need anything?”

bucky never takes u up on any of ur offers and just politely declines

but he fucked up when he was having a terrible day, everything going completely wrong, putting him in a sour mood

“hey, bucky! i’m gonna go check out the museum if u wanted to tag along?”

“don’t u have someone else to bother?”

and ur feelings are hurt

and bucky immediately regrets what he said when he sees u go teary-eyed

u leave the apartment before he can apologize

the next morning, u finally drag urself out of bed, not wanting to run into bucky on ur way out of the apartment

u enter the kitchen and see bucky, standing there with 2 coffees in his hand from the coffee shop u had mentioned to him a while ago

he’s so nervous!!!! (BABY BOYYYY)

“ i‘m sorry ‘bout what i said yesterday, didn’t mean it. was havin’ a bad day.”

he looks down at the ground after he speaks, nervous that ur still upset

ur speechless bc this is probably the most u’ve ever heard bucky talk

“it’s okay, thank u, bucky.”

he moves his head up to look at u and is greeted with the warmest smile he’s ever seen

from then on, u guys become much closer !!!

bucky will go grocery shopping and pick up things ur running low on without u having to say a thing!!

he’s always fixing things in the apartment, refusing to call for professional help

“bucky, the kitchen sink is leaking, let me call—“

“don’t, i got this.”

bucky’s love language is acts of service u can’t tell me i’m wrong

u guys run ur laundry together to try and cut down on costs and will sit on the couch, folding ur clothes together🥺🥺🥺

u take turns picking what music to play in the background

bucky always picks 40s music, ofc

but u try and show him some newer sounds

and although he acts like he doesn’t like pop music, he secretly loves to watch u sing along

especially when u sing right to him, both of u getting lost in each other’s eyes

both quickly averting ur gazes when the song ends

if either one of u notice that the other is having a particularly long day, u’ll cook for each other!!!! making it seem like u made too much food as to not give ur true intentions away

movie nights regularly !!!

u realize he’s got an old soul and are determined to introduce him to the essentials

“why does that rat know how to cook?”

“just enjoy the movie, buck. don’t think too hard about it!”

oh the nicknames

he fucking loves it when u call him buck

bucky has a crush

it’s so simple but so endearing to him

and u love his nickname for u, melting everytime he uses it

at first he said it in a more joking manner

“ur gonna hurt urself, sweetheart.”

and ur face turned RED

u have a crush

and bucky makes a mental note to call u that more often

especially when u bring guys home

u just assumed there was no way ur, very attractive, roommate would ever be into u, so u throw urself into the dating world

but bucky fucking hates it

there was this one guy u brought that u had really hit it off with

u brought him back to urs and there’s bucky, sitting at the kitchen table with a beer in one hand, a book in the other

“oh hey, sweetheart! didn’t know company was coming”

u quickly reassure ur date that the man sitting over there is just ur roommate, even though u are definitely lying to him and urself when u say that

u and ur date have a rather awkward night in, bucky refusing to take a hint to leave the common area

when ur date leaves, u confront bucky

“u wanna explain what the hell that was?”

“what, him? i’d give him a 5/10, way too much cologne”

“bucky.”

he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, silently debating on revealing his feelings for u

“just tired of seeing u waste ur time with these guys who don’t treat u right,” he mumbles, shifting his gaze to the ground

“why?”

he takes a step towards u, standing so close that u can feel his body heat radiating onto u

“because u deserve to be with someone who really cares for u, sweetheart”

bucky slowly lifts his hand to, very cautiously, cup ur cheek, looking into to ur eyes for any sign to stop

u don’t give one

“like who, buck?”

ur question slips out of ur mouth in a whisper, ur faces moving closer together, resting ur foreheads against each other

“like me.”

he immediately crashes his lips onto urs and u gladly welcome it, grabbing his hair in ur hands to try and pull him closer to u

safe to say, u don’t bring anymore dates home; u don’t need to

bucky is ur home🥺💗

[egcdeath]

ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it. 

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down. 

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by. 

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin. 

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home. 

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out. 

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself. 

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry. 

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss. 

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends. 

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve. 

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on. 

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine. 

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument. 

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face. 

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in. 

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand. 

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer. 

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone. 

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him. 

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment. 

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room. 

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you. 

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you. 

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you. 

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace. 

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material. 

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry. 

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth. 

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle. 

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose. 

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony. 

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise. 

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say. 

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change. 

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love. 

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt. 

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious. 

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him. 

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether. 

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back. 

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly. 

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly. 

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested. 

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same? 

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far. 

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so. 

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick. 

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it. 

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note. 

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. 

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning. 

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment. 

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness. 

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face. 

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom. 

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep. 

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard. 

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work. 

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier. 

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break. 

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen. 

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window. 

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt. 

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks. 

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you. 

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool. 

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.” 

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket. 

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

[randomshyperson]

Can I request a modern angsty Wanda x Female reader where they’re best friends? R is openly out while Wanda is still in the closet. They very much like each other but Wanda still pushes her feelings away. And R says something like “I wish we could stop playing this game where we act like you don’t love me...it’s getting tiring to not love you in the way I want.” And like hopefully a happy ending :)

Hey, hope you’re fine :) I wanted to make something nice to you ‘cause you’re always so nice to me. Really hope you like this, i tried to follow everything you request.

Good reading!

Gif is not mine, and it doesn't really match any scene, but Lizzie just look so good in this. who even look this good while fighting.

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Friends never love me like you

Words:  6.785k // Read in AO3 too

Warnings> 16+, hints of smut, soft angst, fluffy i think, language.

You're dreaming about Wanda again, and it makes sense, because your face is buried in her hair as you sleep in her bed. 

And then the alarm clock is ringing and you grumble, scrambling up in bed to reach the device on the nightstand. 

- Come on, Wandy, we need to get up. - You say as you stretch and sit up in bed, having turned off the noise. Wanda grumbles in displeasure, and puts her pillow over her face. You laugh, moving closer. - Wandy... wake up...

And then you are tickling her, and she is squirming as she laughs. But you let go quickly, laughing too.

- You're mean. - She says, and you shrug, getting up.

- Come on, it's our last week. - You say as you walk toward the bathroom. You have a toothbrush at Wanda's, a friend thing.

Then many minutes later, you are at school, surrounded with your group of friends in the cafeteria area, Wanda's head resting on your shoulder.

Everyone is used to the demonstrations of affection from the two of you, and even though you have been out since elementary school, none of your friends hint at anything about it. Wanda has been your best friend since kindergarten, and you really believed that she would be a part of your life forever.

And as you hold her hand through the hallways, or exchange messages between classes that you don't share, you smile, and think that nothing could ever change that.

//-//

Things begin to change on prom day. 

Trish Walker has been your classmate for three years, and she has always hated you for no apparent reason. Well, you guessed the reason, really. You remember how she tried to humiliate you last year by making a mean comment during a debate in history class, and you just turned to her with a wry smile and said "You don't have to fight me to get my attention. Just ask me out," and you watched her turn pink and mumble that this was absurd, as she quickly left the room. But that's past, and you've forgotten. 

And so here you are ignoring the strange feeling in your stomach that settled in when you saw Wanda dancing with Vision, a boy from your class who asked her to the dance at the last minute, justifying that he was embarrassed. You smiled when Wanda told you, even though you weren't happy about it. And now she was dancing, and you were walking outside with your hands in your pockets when you heard someone crying.

Trish was sitting on the sidewalk, and you approached slowly.

- Hey. - You greeted her, and she quickly began to wipe away her tears, letting out a humorless laugh. - Can I sit with you?

- It's a public street. - She replies, extending her arm. You chuckle lightly, sitting down next to her.

- Can I ask why you are crying?

- Why do you care?

You shrug, looking at the parking lot in front of you. 

- I am curious. - You say simply, and Trish holds back the tears in her eyes as she looks in the same direction as you, and hugs her knees.

-I'm just... - She starts and takes a deep breath to control her tears, and then lets out a wry laugh. - You were right about me.

You raise your eyebrow slightly, turning toward her. But she is still looking straight ahead.

- I like girls. - She confesses, tears streaming down her face. You frown. - And I just told my boyfriend that. And he didn't take it very well.

You let out a sigh.

- You want me to punch him? - You offer with a smile and she laughs, wiping her face. But then you change your posture to a tender one. - I'm sorry about that, Trish. - You say and she nods slightly, looking down at her lap. - I know you hate me and all, but I'm here if you need to talk about it.

Trish lifts her head, blinking in confusion. And then she laughs, and you look at her in surprise.

- I don't hate you. - she says with a shy smile. - I never hated you. I just... It was because of you that I told Peter I was bi.

You're really surprised.

- Wow, really? - you ask, and she nods, her face flushed. And then she moves forward, kissing you quickly. You swallow dryly as you pull away. - Trish...

- Damn, I'm sorry! - she asks, shaking her head and closing her eyes. - I'm so stupid!

- Hey, no. - You tell her sweetly, hoping she'll look at you again. - It's just that I was surprised. And well, you haven't been very nice to me over the years. - You point with a smile. - I didn't expect that.

Trish raises her eyebrows slightly.

- But last year, you made fun of me. - She retorts and you frown, not remembering, and seeing her expression, she sighs. - I guess I thought about it a lot more than you did. - she comments. - Last year, when I found out that I liked you, I tried to torment you at school for no reason. And then you retorted my teasing by saying that I was probably in love with you.

You let out a little laugh, remembering.

- Yeah, sorry about that. - You say. - I wouldn't have said anything like that if I had known it was true. It's not nice to bring people out of the closet.

Trish nods slightly, and you are silent for a moment.

- Do your parents know? - she asks curiously. You start to fiddle with your shoelaces.

- I told my father when I was 13. - You say. - I think my mother heard about it from him. And yours?

Trish lets out a humorless laugh.

- No chance. - She denies it. - My mother would kill me. I need to be far away from this place if I'm ever going to date a girl.

- This sucks. - You remark before you return to silence.

And then there is a noise and you turn your head slightly back to see two students stumbling out of the gymnasium as they exchange a passionate kiss, and you laugh lightly.

- I think you should go back to the party. - You say with a smile and Trish looks at you with a furrowed brow. - You look very pretty, Trish. You shouldn't be crying in the corner, especially since you're going to be prom queen for sure.

Trish laughs, looking away. And when you stand up, and offer your hand for her to hold, she accepts it and gets up. 

You walk side by side back to the party, the place is packed and the music is pleasantly loud.

As your gaze wandered around the room, you felt your chest tighten. Wanda and Vision were kissing softly as they danced in a far corner. You swallowed the lump in your throat, and felt Trish pull your hand gently, asking you to dance with her.

When she was crowned prom queen a few songs later, you let her kiss you again, and this time, you kissed her back.

//-//

You keep telling yourself that nothing is different in your relationship with Wanda. 

Because in theory nothing has changed. You still spend a lot of time together, and there are still messages, and jokes, and coffees and outings. And then you are packing for college, because of course you two were going to the same place, and her hand is in yours all the way there.

What has changed is the notifications from Vision on her cell phone, and the phone calls you get from Trish. But you two play along. There is nothing to talk about. 

Unfortunately you are not in the same dorm, and Wanda lets out a dissatisfied sigh when you hug her last to grab the boxes you need to carry to your room.

- I'll be at the end of the hall, Wandy. - You comment but she is not happy at all. 

- That is so unfair. - She says with a pout. - I wanted you to stay with me.

You let out a little laugh, ignoring the pounding of your heart. You were going to tell her that you would see her every day, but then there is a girl coming into the dormitory next.

- Hello - she greets you both with a smile. - Which one of you will be my roommate?

- Tha'ts me. - Wanda says with a smile as she extends her hand to greet the girl. - I'm Wanda, and this is Y/N.

- Monica. - The girl says smiling. - Is your girlfriend going to study here too?

- She is not my girlfriend. - Wanda harshly clarifies, and you frown for a moment, surprised at her aggressiveness. Monica doesn't seem to mind, and lets out a giggle, explaining that it was common for boyfriends and girlfriends to help freshmen get settled in.

And then you nod slightly at her, and pick up your boxes from the floor, carrying them to your room at the end of the hall.

There is a girl in your room sitting on the bed opposite the room, and you smile at her, while she seems to be appraising you.

- Hello, it looks like we're going to be roommates. - You say amiably as you leave the boxes on the floor.

The girl ends up interrogating you for the next few minutes, and you are surprised to find out that she is studies business, not espionage. She asks your major, your age, your parents' names, and how many friends you have. It's a little intimidating, but you answer honestly. And then she smiles and stands up, saying that you were nice and she was happy to have you as a colleague. She invited you to have coffee with her when you're done before she left the room, and you were quite surprised by the whole thing.

- Hey, did you get everything? - Wanda asked as she entered your room. You were still slightly upset by the way she had reacted earlier, and just nodded. - Can we have a snack?

- Sorry, Wands. - You denied it by organizing one of the last books. - I'm busy.

Wanda blinked in surprise, and crossed her arms.

- What's wrong? - She asked, but you didn't look at her, which seemed to bother her more.

- It's nothing, I just want to finish tidying up. - You lie. 

- Fine then. - She says, sounding upset. - I'll see you later.

And she leaves. You feel like running after her, and apologizing for, well you don't know what exactly. But you just slam the book down harder than necessary.

//-//

You only see Wanda the next day, as she answers a call from Vision outside her room. You swallow the bitter feeling in your throat, and smile, giving her a kiss on the cheek to greet her before heading toward the cafeteria. You have coffee together, and share class schedules so you know when you have time together.

- Is your roommate nice? - You asked as you poured yourself some more cereal, Wanda was leaning her head on her hand, looking at you.

- She is noisy. - Wanda says. - Like you.

You laugh before putting a spoonful of cereal in your mouth. As you chew, Wanda speaks again:

- Your seems grumpy. - She comments and you nod in agreement, causing Wanda to smile slightly.

You drink some orange juice before speaking again.

- She is surprisingly nice, actually. - You comment. - She took me out for coffee yesterday, and we talked.

Wanda murmured, looking away. Maybe she was still upset that you refused to go out with her, but you didn't say anything. 

When you finish breakfast, you have your first classes. You expect to see Wanda soon, but your schedules don't really match.

You just hope it doesn't affect your relationship too much.

//-//

College was a stressful and uncomfortable experience. The classes were difficult and long, and the assignments were even worse than those in high school. And the little free time you had, you wanted to spend with Wanda, but you couldn't neglect your other friends, and you had to divide this little time very well. The parties were good because you got to see all the people at once.

So, two months since you started studying at NYU, you were on the roof of the boys' dormitory, at one of the numerous parties, laughing at Carol Danvers' joke about adult life. 

And your friends are all around you, laughing and talking. And you think you're staring too much at Wanda, who looks stunning in her black dress, but you've been drinking for a few minutes, so you don't care.

Someone turns up the music, and your friends cheer, and then Carol is pulling you by the hand inside, while Nat, Tony, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda and Monica follow behind. 

You begin to dance all together, and you let the beat of the music command your movements as you close your eyes. Then you end up in front of Wanda, because it has always been this way, your bodies always pulled together. 

And it's okay to dance close together, because it's a party. You don't complain when your bodies come together, and she doesn't complain when your hands go down her waist, or when your hips rub against each other. No one seems to notice that your foreheads are together, and you both gasp out of breath shaken by the intensity of your movements.

But someone is drinking too much, and they bump into you, breaking the spell as you stumble away. Your head is spinning a little, and there's someone yelling fight, and then your friends are pulling you by the hand out of the building. 

With the night air, you breathe better. And your gaze searches for Wanda, but she doesn't look happy. She says from a distance that she is tired, and turns toward her own dormitory. You want to go after her, but the look on her face says she wants to be alone. So you take the after party invitation your friends offer.

You are getting used to having more friends that are as close as Wanda. You realize that adult life changes relationships considerably, especially since you no longer have the same amount of time. You prefer to believe that you are getting closer to other people, rather than further away from Wanda.

//-//

It is during the Thanksgiving holiday that you discover that Wanda likes girls. 

The two of you have returned home, and your father has joined Wanda's family in celebration.

After eating a lot, laughing and playing fun games with the whole family, you and Wanda have had many sips of wine, and you are tired and giggly.

You go up to Wanda's room, and talk about college with your heads on the pillows. And then both of you are with your eyes closed, whispering, and practically asleep.

- I am pansexual. - She whispers weakly..

You thought maybe you were dreaming, and it took you a few seconds to fight the sleep and open your eyes, finally understanding what Wanda said. But when you looked at her, she was asleep. You frowned in surprise as you sat up in bed. You ran your fingers through your hair, and moved closer to Wanda only to cover her with the blanket. You lay back down, trying not to stare so long at her sleeping face, but she looked so beautiful and peaceful. Your heart was racing, and you lied to yourself that it was just because of her words. And then you closed your eyes, and it didn't take you long to fall asleep.

The other day, Wanda said she didn't remember anything. And you didn't press her, believing that when she was ready, she would talk to you about it.

//-//

And then you decided to just have lunch with your father before you went back to college, and while you were eating, you thought about how you told him.

"You were thirteen, and you two were sitting watching television, each in an armchair. It was between one score and another. And your heart was beating so loudly, it seemed impossible that he wouldn't notice. 

- I like girls. - You suddenly confessed. Your father blinked in surprise, looking at you quickly, before turning his gaze back to the television.

You swallowed hard.

- I don't know what to say. - He says. - It makes no difference to me.

You nodded frantically, holding back your tears as you stared at the television. And then your father sighed, straightening himself in his chair and turning off the television.

- Come here, darling. - He asked, and you stood up robotically, walking over to him while your gaze was on the floor. - I'm sorry, I'm not good with these things. - he says. - But don't worry, okay? I love you, kid. No matter what, i love you. - And then he lifts his hand and places a finger on her chin, lifting it up gently. - Head up like I taught you, okay? Never let anyone tell you what you can and can't be.

You let your tears flow when you hug him. And you watch the soccer in the same armchair, cuddled in the blankets."

You blink slightly, awakening from the memory. You exchange a smile with your father before going back to eating.

//-//

In the second year, you have your first fight with Wanda since you became friends.

It's stupid, really. You were supposed to meet earlier, and you got the schedules mixed up, and then she got angry and you ran out of patience. Pretty soon you're yelling and accusing, and then she's storming out of your room with a slam on the door.

It is the same day that you see Wanda kissing a girl for the first time too.

Because Tony loves parties, and he invites you over, and there's lots of drinking. And you know you should talk to Wanda about the discussion earlier, but then she is avoiding you and you think you'd better start drinking.

The hours go by, and you should leave because it's a school day tomorrow. But you want to get some air, after having spent the whole party pretending to listen to your friends while your gaze searches for Wanda. And so you go to the roof, shortly after you have lost sight of her, and try to sober up a little with a bottle of water.

You choke as you look around, seeing Wanda being pressed against the wall by a girl you don't recognize.

But they don't see you, and you turn your feet in the opposite direction. And when you are outside, there is a message from Trish on your cell phone saying that she misses you, and you decide to say that you miss her too.

//-//

When your friends ask Wanda about the mysterious girl, she laughs and says it was just a party, that people do that sort of thing. And nobody pressures her. And then Vision is calling her again, and you're too busy to listen because you're texting with Trish.

In February, Trish comes to see you in your dorm. You talk a lot, and it's nice and safe. And you ignore the feeling that it is not right. And then Nat opens the door, and gives you a mischievous smile, before taking her bag and leaving again.

And then other dates happen after that, and the more time you spend with Trish, the less you spend with Wanda. And that's okay, because you're adults now, and these things happen. And now Trish kisses you as often as Wanda goes on dates with Vision. And then you want to ignore the nervousness in your stomach when you're kissing while there's a sock on the doorknob. 

- I can't do this. - You confess breathlessly with swollen lips.

Trish doesn't mind. She is thoughtful and patient, and she tells you that everything is fine. And the dates continue for a few weeks, until you tell her that you are not in love with her. She hugs you, and says you never seemed to.

But when you walk back to your dorm, Vision has come to see Wanda. And she smiles, and kisses him. And you want to throw up, but you nod politely as you walk past them and throw yourself on your bed in your dorm. 

- What's the matter with you? - Natasha asks the next moment. She is sitting at her desk, probably doing some homework.

- I broke up with Trish. - You say this as if it were the real reason. Nat lets out a grumble of understanding.

- Why don't you try hanging out with Wanda for a while?

You close your eyes and bury your face in your pillow at the mention of her name. But then you feel irritated, and are sitting up in bed.

- Vision is here. - You comment with irony, and Nat giggles.

- Wow, this is bad. - She says, writing something in her notebook. - It must be hard to share a girlfriend.

Her teasing bothers you. Or maybe it is something else.

- We're not girlfriends. - Nat giggles, and you let out an impatient sigh. - I'm not laughing. What are you trying to imply?

Nat turns her head toward you, her eyes gleaming in defiance.

- Insinuating? I am presenting facts. - she says with a slight irony. - What would you call "friends" who act like you and Wanda? I know them as a couple.

- That's ridiculous. - You retort. - We act like everyone else.

- Excuse me, when was the last time you had a nightmare and crawled into my bed in the middle of the night? - She mocks. - Or got all upset when I went out with a boy? Oh, I have an amazing one. When you became my emergency contact for everything?

You blink in surprise. Nat doesn't look angry, just impatient. You don't like the feeling in your stomach.

- Just because you are not as good of a friend as Wanda, doesn't mean that we are dating. - You accuse grumpily, and regret it at the same second. So Nat is looking at you with disbelief and irritation, and then she leaves the room.

You wish you could disappear, but you force yourself to get up, hoping to catch up with her in time. But when you leave the dormitory, you don't see her anywhere.

You resist the urge to punch something.

It is already evening, and Nat has not returned to the dormitory yet, and you are anxious and impatient as you wait in your room, after having spent the afternoon trying to distract yourself with some pending lessons. And then you go outside again, and try to call. After falling into the mailbox a few times, you decide to leave a message, while leaning on the balcony bench at the entrance to the dormitory.

- Hey, Nat. It's me. - You say on the phone. - I'm sorry for saying that you are not a good friend. That is absolutely untrue. You are loyal, and fun. And you put up with my shit even when I'm being a brat. I'm sorry that I acted without thinking, I guess I didn't want to see the truth. No one has ever confronted me about Wanda like that. - You confess, and take a deep breath. - Anyway, I hope you don't hate me forever, it would be hard to get along in the dorm. - You joke last. - Please call me when you can.

You put the cell phone back in your pocket, running your hand through your hair. And then there is a female voice that you know well.

- Are you all right? - Wanda asks walking towards him. She was coming from the dormitory entrance; she had probably just said goodbye to Sight.

- Everything is fine. - You reply with irony. - I'm just making sure Nat knows she' s a good friend.

Wanda blinks in confusion, and then assumes an ironic posture.

- Wow, I would like to hear that I am a good friend. - She jokes, and you bite your lip, feeling your irritation rise. 

- This whole fight only happened because of you, so I find it difficult. - You retort aggressively, and Wanda frowns in surprise.

- What's the matter with you?

- You, Wanda. - You retort, straightening your posture. - I'm tired of it all.

Wanda takes a step back, confused, and you feel your body boil with anger.

- I don't know what you are talking about.

- I'm talking about us. - You clarify impatiently. Wanda blinks in confusion, crossing her arms and lifting her chin.

- There is no us. - She retorts. - I'm with Vision...

You laugh wryly and approach her.

- I'm tired of this game where we pretend you're not in love with me. - You say seriously. - It's exhausting not loving you the way I want to.

Wanda shakes her head in denial, her eyes filled with tears as she takes a step back.

- I don't...

- Wanda.

- No. - she says seriously. - Just because you're gay doesn't mean that all girls are.

She seems to regret her own words as soon as she speaks them, because she takes a step toward you, but you let out a dry laugh, before walking away. Maybe Wanda has called you, but you don't look back.

//-//

You are on the verge of emotional misery, but you feel better when Nat brings you some hot chocolate. She forgave you for the fight, and apologized for pushing you, but explained that she couldn't stand to see you grumpy anymore whenever Wanda answered the phone and it was Vision calling. And then you told her about your conversation with Wanda, and she hugged you, and said she hoped things would work out.

You weren't talking to Wanda for the time being. It was strange, and it felt like a piece of your life was missing, but you tried to fill it in with homework and television series.

When the mid-year exams came around, you wished you had never come to college in the first place. It seemed like you were going to explode with anxiety and stress at any moment. 

 And then the vacations came, and you went back home, this time you took the train. 

Pietro visited you the day you arrived. You went out for hamburgers, and after you talked about people from college, he mentioned Wanda.

- She misses you, you know? 

You were sitting in the empty stands of your old high school, and you leaned your arms on the metal and your chin on top of them, looking at the field. Pietro was with one of his legs crossed in his lap, looking at you.

- I miss her too. - You confessed. - But we both said stupid things, and there's no going back from that.

Pietro took a bite of his burger before speaking again.

- I just think it's weird to go out with you without her. - He remarks, and you laugh softly.

- Hey, we are friends too.

- Of course we are. - he says. - But you were like, well, I don't know, soul mates maybe.

You feel your heart break, but force a smile.

- You're too corny, Pietro.

He laughs and goes back to eating. And then he lets out a low exclamation, as if to tell you something.

- I guess you two must have talked about it already, and all that. - he says. - But Wanda told our parents that she is pansexual.

You raise your head quickly and end up hitting the top iron of the railing, and Pietro looks worried, but you just ignore his look, and ask:

- What did you say?

He looks surprised as you massage the spot where you hit your head. But then he shrugs his shoulders.

- She told us during Dad's birthday. Just before the weeks of exams when she came here. - He says. - It was fine, Dad was surprised and Mom didn't really know what to say, but they took it very well.

- And you?

Pietro laughed.

- I bought her a flag the next day.

You laugh, pushing Pietro lightly by the shoulder. 

- Wow, that's good to know. - You say. - She must have been happy.

- Yeah, well. I think she would have liked to have you there, though. - Pietro says and you look away, knowing that he is right. - I always thought you would be the first person she would tell.

You swallow dryly, remembering that Thanksgiving night. But then Pietro's cell phone rings, and he says he has to go, so you are driving home mumbling songs into the radio in Pietro's car.

//-//

It's good to go back to college, because you see your friends. But it also means that you see Wanda in the dormitory hallways, and occasionally in the college building.

- You are staring again. - Natasha warned you when you were in the library, and you blinked in confusion, looking away from Wanda, across the room.

- I wasn't. - You grumbled, looking at your book. Nat laughed.

- Jesus, why don't you two just talk to each other?

- She has already said what she has to say. - You retorted with a shrug. Nat sighed.

- What about you? - She asks and you frown in confusion. - Have you said everything you wanted to say?

You look away again, thinking. No. You haven't said half of what you wanted to say. Honestly, you couldn't even tell Wanda that you were proud of her for coming out.  But you pushed those thoughts away for the moment.

You went back to studying for a few minutes, trying to distract your thoughts. But then Nat received a message and let out an excited exclamation.

- Party on Saturday. - She announced, looking at her cell phone. - I'll confirm our presence.

You let out a grumble, and she looked at you.

- Don't even start with that. - She said. - You need to get out of that room, for God's sake.

You laughed lightly, laying your head against the books. Nat massaged your hair with one hand while she sent Steve an audio message saying that you were behaving like a crybaby, but that you were going to the party.

//-//

The party was bubbling with noise and people. Nat stood next to you for the first five minutes, and then you laughed when she let out an exclamation when she saw older foreign students who were very handsome, and you gave her a little push to go talk to them. 

Your gaze finds Wanda in the room almost within the next minute. Looking fucking gorgeous. And she looked back, so you found it hard to breathe in there, and looked for the exit.

It was amazing how you always ended up on the rooftops in this place.

You lean your arms on the balcony, enjoying the cool evening breeze. And then you feel a glance behind your back, and you don't have to turn to know who it is.

The next instant Wanda is beside you, mimicking your position.

- Hi. - She greets you by looking forward as you do.

- Hi. - You answer softly. - You look beautiful.

You watch her smile slightly from the corner of your eye.

- How are you? - she asks. And you bite the inside of your cheek. 

You adjust your posture and turn to her.

- I need to say a few things to you. - You say, and she looks surprised by the sudden change, but also turns and looks at you. You take a deep breath to build up courage. - I'm sorry I pushed you that day. I shouldn't have done that. - You say and Wanda looks ready to say something, but you add quickly, believing that if you don't say it all, you won't say it anymore. - Also, I visited Pietro during the vacations, and he told me that you told your parents that you were pansexual. And I'm proud of you for that, and I'm sorry I wasn't there with you.

Wanda looks at you wide-eyed, and you let out a sigh.

- Wow, you said a lot of things. - She then declares with a slight frown, and you let out a short laugh. - But I need to apologize too. I was mean to you. And I'm sorry for that. - She smiles next, looking down at the floor. - But what about all those things you said about ... us. Are you sorry about that too?

You swallow dryly, feeling your heart race. And Wanda looks at you with sparkling eyes.

-No. - You tell her. - I meant every word.

Wanda's cheeks flush as she smiles, but then there is a loud noise and you both look over to see Natasha snuggled up to a boy entering the roof area. She steps aside to close the door, and then she notices you both, giving you a mischievous smile as she pulls the boy by his shirt into the corner of the roof. You and Wanda laugh at the scene, but the moment from before is broken. Especially since you can hear Natasha kissing a few feet away.

- So... friends? - Wanda asks, holding out her hand to you after you look at her again. You shake her hand, smiling.

- Friends.

//-//

Things are going great. You are doing well in the tests, you are having healthy habits and you are about to combust every time you are with Wanda, maybe the last part is not so good.

You have resumed your friendship in the same way as before. And when you told Natasha about this she laughed for fifteen minutes.

And then you eventually found out that Vision was no longer in Wanda's life. Pietro called you and mentioned this superficially, as if it wasn't something that completely changed your dynamic. Maybe you were overthinking it. 

The relevant thing was that there was a tension in your relationship that you were not used to having. Or maybe it had always been there, and you just ignored it better.

Like now, studying in the library, sitting side by side, with your legs touching under the table. You have spent the last twenty minutes repeating to yourself not to think about it so much instead of actually studying. 

- How did you do exercise number thirteen? - Wanda asked suddenly. You almost choked with fright, but you masked it by turning the pages of the book. You hadn't even done any exercises. But then Wanda came closer, looking at your notebook, and you resisted the urge to close your eyes as the smell of her shampoo invaded your senses. - Are you all right?

You blinked in surprise when Wanda looked at you. She had turned her head toward you, and you could see her eyelashes clearly. 

- Huh? - you mumbled, feeling hyperaware of the proximity. Wanda frowned, bringing her hand to your cheek.

- You're warm. Are you getting sick?

You were trying to disguise that you were trembling at her touch, and then Natasha arrived, throwing the books on the table and looking at you both with curiosity over your position. But Wanda turned away with a smile, and greeted Nat, while you tried to normalize your heartbeat.

The three of you went back to studying together, it was easier to concentrate now that you had Nat's judgmental gaze on you, waiting for a slip to make a comment that would embarrass you.

//-//

You have a free period in the late afternoon, and go back to your dorm. Nat is lying on the bed with a book on her lap.

- God, don't you seniors ever study? - You sneer as you enter, and she laughs. 

- Pick the right classes and you'll have as much free time as I do. - She replies without taking her eyes off the paper. You flop down on your bed, let out a sigh. - What's wrong?

- I didn't say anything. - You retort with humor. Nat closes the book and crosses her legs, looking at you.

- It's your energy. - She says, and you laugh with confusion. - You have a charged energy, my friend. What's going on?

- I really don't know what you are talking about. - You say with a slight laugh and turn over on the bed to rest your head on her arm and look at her.

Nat is thoughtful for a few seconds, and then stands up in the direction of the room, picking up her cell phone. She reads something on her screen for a while, while you stare at your sheet, and then she lets out an exclamation.

- Aha, here it is! - She says without taking her eyes off the device, but turning her body toward you. - The sexual aura is detected through...

- Oh my god. - You interrupt by throwing a pillow at her, and she just laughs and deflects, while putting the phone down. You bury your face in the bed, feeling it warm.

- Girl, you are emanating a sexual lust! - Nat exclaims, throwing the pillow back at you. - You need to get laid!

- Please shut up! - You ask, your voice muffled against the bed sheet. Nat laughs as she walks around the room.

And then there is a knock on the door, and someone enters. You pull your face away from the sheet to see Wanda.

- Wow, it's fate. - Nat sneers and you move quickly on the bed to attack her, but she laughs and deflects your hands, running away. She shouts something like "don't forget the sock" before slamming the door on her way out.

- What was that? - Wanda asks with a giggle as you throw yourself back onto the bed, your face reddening.

- Nat is crazy, don't listen to her. - You grumble and then adjust your position to sit up in bed. - I didn't know you were free now.

Wanda smiles, dropping her backpack on the floor. 

- The teacher let us off early. - She says as she walks over to you, sitting down across from you on the end of the bed. - I thought about watching a movie.

You let out an exclamation of agreement, moving on the bed to reach for your notebook. Wanda lies down beside you.

And things go well for about forty minutes. You think it's the choice of film that's to blame. If you had chosen one of the sitcoms that Wanda likes, you would be laughing right now. But you decided to watch Carol's recommendation given a few weeks ago. And so now you watched in silence a particularly visual lesbian sex scene.

You weren't sure whether your heart was pounding in shame or excitement, but judging by the rising heat at the tip of your belly and in your cheeks, it was easy to guess.

You want to think of something to say that might lighten the mood, but Wanda moves again, as if interested.

- Wow, did you ever do that? - she asks, pointing briefly at the movement on the screen. You swallow dryly.

- No. - You say in a slightly husky voice. - I've never...

And then Wanda looks at you in surprise.

- I thought you and Trish...

You let out a clumsy laugh. 

- Yeah, almost. - you say. - But I told her I couldn't.

- Why not?

You look away from her.

- You know why.

Wanda lets out a sigh, and then she turns to the notebook, closing the equipment and placing it on the other end of the bed. You look at her confused, wondering if she was angry, but your brain short-circuits as she turns to you and sits on your lap.

- Oh, okay. - You sigh shyly as Wanda relaxes her weight on top of you. She smiles as she puts her hands on your shoulders.

- What do you want to do? - she asks softly, looking into your eyes intensely. You feel your heart beating against your ears. 

- What do you mean? - you ask with a trembling voice.

- What do you want to do to me? - She asks with a slight blush on her cheeks, bringing their faces together until their foreheads are resting against each other. - Do you want to kiss me?

- Fuck. - You sigh. - Yes, a lot.

And then Wanda breaks the distance between your mouths, gasping against your lips. You feel your whole body electrify, and move your hands up to her waist. And then she pulls away again.

- Was that good? - she asks breathlessly.  You are trembling as you pull her back, this time kissing her with your tongue. And this time she doesn't interrupt.

When you part your mouths again, your bodies are sweaty and tired.  And she blushes when you smile at her, burying her face in your collarbone.  You cover yourselves with the blanket, and close your eyes. 

Many hours later, when you wake up for a snack and meet Nat in the cafeteria, she tells you that your aura is clear as she gives you a suggestive look.

You are dreaming about Wanda. But that's okay, because she is curled up against you, and you have rings on your fingers, and shared key chains.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 16) - Drowning

Summary: The reader’s night goes from bad to awful fast but thankfully Jensen shows up at the last second to stop things from getting any worse. But the guilt the reader feels over trying to end things with Jensen to protect him starts to become too much...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, being drunk, minor violence, scary situations, angst, fighting, fluff, offscreen death of minor character, anxiety, panic attack, minor injury

A/N: This chapter is a whirlwind! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

It was a close to an hour later and you were halfway through a bottle of bourbon, laying on the back porch of your mom’s house, staring at the rafters and debating finishing off the whole thing.

“Y/N?” you heard. Your skin crawled as you sat up, spotting your father at the other end of the wrap around. “Are you drunk?”

“This would be an appropriate time to tell you that yes, I am and I also have this,” you said, reaching behind your and picking up a hunting rifle. “I might be plastered but I think that’ll only improve my aim. I’ll be nice and shoot for your balls first.”

“You got so much wrong about me kid.”

You fired a shot near his feet and he held up his hands.

“Why don’t you go jump off a bridge or some shit,” you said.

“Y/N.”

You pulled the trigger as he took a step forward and he jumped when it hit the window nearby. You pulled again but it just clicked as he walked closer. 

“Your new momma never taught you that kind of rifle only has two shots, did she,” he said. You tried to stand but got way too dizzy and fell down. 

“Well I can still tear you apart with my teeth,” you said. 

“You’re drunk and judging by your face, very upset. What happened to that boy you were with? I didn’t see him when I looked around.”

“Touch me and that boy will rip your head off.”

“This doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he said, stepping far too close for your liking. You swung the rifle at him but he caught it and kicked the bottle away before you could get at it. “All grown up. Probably enjoy it now.”

You crawled back as far as you could, eyes darting behind him when you saw movement. You barely caught the brown hair and green eyes before your father was face first on the porch. You tried to stand but he yanked on your ankle and pulled you down hard. It took a long time to peel open your eyes again, your father now at Jensen’s feet. Jensen pushed down on his back while he talked on the phone to someone and it didn’t take long to hear sirens in the distance.

“For the record,” said Jensen as he walked over to you and crouched down, his belt around your father’s wrists, “I didn’t believe you for a second. Oh and you’re a dumbass but you’re my dumbass. Forever. Got it?”

“I couldn’t…” you trailed off. He nodded and took off his flannel, wrapping it over your shoulders. “I knew he would do something and I couldn’t have him near the kids or know they exist. I couldn’t-”

“I know, honey,” he said. “But don’t you dare ever do anything like that again.”

You put your head down sniffled, dizzy still as he rubbed your back before going back to watching your dad.

It took an hour or so before you could go home and you were sober enough to stand on your own. 

“Can I ask why you made the executive decision that you did?” asked Jensen, holding your arm loosely as you got into his car to head back.

“Because I’m stupid,” you said dryly from the passenger seat as he turned on his SUV.

“I mean more so why didn’t you come to me if you were scared? Why make up a lie?”

“You did let me go. You must have believed me at least for a few seconds,” you said.

“No, I actually didn’t.”

“You let me go.”

He was quiet until you got close to the brewery, Jensen pulling off onto the plot of land he owned next to it. You leaned your head against the cold window and he turned off the engine.

“This whole, tired, don’t talk to me attitude right now? Been there. Lived it. I know it’s bullshit.”

“You let me leave so you did believe me so-” you said, Jensen pressing a finger to your lips. 

“I am certain of very few things and you are one of them. I let you go so I could figure out what scared you so badly you’d lie, to me. There’s only one thing I can think of so before you even had a foot out of that house, I was calling people and I got put on with Detective Finn who worked your case as a kid and I find out that dick for brains sack of shit just moved practically down the street from us. It does not take a genius to put the pieces together.”

“Fine! I did it in some stupid attempt to protect you,” you said. You glared at him and he shook his head. “What?”

“I’m not gonna get mad at you.” You put your head back on the window and stared out to the dark trees, sniffling some. “Why do you want me to be angry with you?”

“Uh because I didn’t forget to turn on the washing machine or leave on a light. I lied. I lied so big that-”

“You lied to protect your family from a monster. Do I wish you had told me? Yes. But I fuck up so much and you’ve never once been angry with me for making a mistake and I’ll never be angry with you for making one either. I know you want me to be angry with you, feel like you should be punished for what you imagine is hurting me. But you didn’t hurt me, Y/N. You didn’t and I know you get that because so many times you’ve been on the other side of this and I know you’ve never once thought, oh yeah Jensen’s a piece of shit, let him really have it. No. Just no. So I’m not getting mad at you and I don’t know what to fucking say to make you feel better like you always do me and I’m so sorry he got so close to hurting you again. But I’m really good at fighting monsters in this family. So please next time, I don’t care if you’re scared of the bug on the wall or you think someone’s outside the house or what it is. If you’re scared, tell me and I’ll do my best to make it go away, I promise.”

“What do you do when you want to hate yourself for being an idiot?” you asked quietly. You heard him shift in his seat and you shut your eyes, the sound of a door opening and then another. Strong arms wrapped around you and you buried your face in his chest.

“I try to treat myself as kindly as she does. She would never hate me and she hates when I’m in pain. I see it all over her face. So I try to cut myself some slack and ask myself if she would hate me and when I realize no, I’m forced to forgive myself and it normally takes a few hours but it works pretty good. A lot of hugs and cuddling don’t hurt either.”

“Thank you for stopping him.”

“Don’t.”

“Thank you. I owe you so, so much.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing. We got each other’s backs and that’s all there is to it. I’m just sad I missed you trying to shoot his dick off.”

“How did you know where to find me?”

“Find my iPhone. Also I figured that was a good place to check,” he said. “I would have been here sooner if Jared didn’t drive like a tortoise over to the house to watch the kids.”

“I’m sorry I scared you...and you had to do that tonight.”

“Oh punching your father was a personal highlight for me. Trust me,” he said. He stroked your cheek and you turned into the touch, eyes squeezing shut. “You’re safe.”

“He’s going to get out on bail and-”

“And we have a very good lawyer. Oh, and I know the mayor so fuck his ass, he’s not getting bail.”

You buried your face once again and he put a finger under your chin, lifting it up.

“You’re still scared.”

“He’s gonna get arrested for what, trespassing? Attempted assault? I was drunk and shot at him. He can spin it. He can spin it and be out on the street like that.”

“I’m going to ask the lawyer to do something else, something that maybe can take care of that problem.”

“What?” 

“Once a piece of shit, always a piece of shit. He’s been gone for fifteen years. I have this bad feeling you weren’t the only one. Or even before that.”

“Or maybe he just hates me.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I’m gonna take care of it.”

“Jensen, I know you don’t have to worry about the money but it might still not be enough.”

“It’s enough,” he said. “Or else next time I’ll be the one with the rifle.”

“You would kill him?”

“Honestly? Yeah if it came to it. I wish people like him died in car crashes, not innocent ones. We have every right to protect ourselves and our family and I’m not letting him touch the kids or you ever.”

“I should probably say that’s bad but I don’t disagree.”

“Money works a lot. A real lot. Maybe he did something super bad and he can rot in prison forever.”

“Maybe,” you said, spotting a cruiser pull up nearby. 

“Stay here, sweetie,” he said. He walked over while the officer got out. He spoke to Jensen for a moment, Jensen’s face a bit blank when he turned around. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Your dad had a heart attack in the backseat,” said Jensen quietly. You cocked your head and he shook his. “Your father. In the police cruiser that was taking him for booking. He was just pronounced.”

“He died?”

“He was really overweight and didn’t look to be in the best health. He probably got his heart rate up too high and...the officer said he’d escort us home, stay outside the house for the night, calm our nerves.”

“He’s really dead?” you asked. You looked over at the officer and he came over, giving you a quick smile. “He really died?”

“Yes mam.”

“What...happens now?” you asked.

“We’ll file the report but you don’t necessarily need to press charges anymore. You’re next of kin as far as we’re aware so the body…” he trailed off when he looked at you. “We can talk about this with your lawyer.”

“Thanks,” said Jensen. “We’ll be on the road in a minute.” 

The officer climbed back in his cruiser, Jensen leaning against the doorframe. He tucked your hair behind your ear, letting out a deep breath.

“Y/N,” he said. He stroked your cheek, your head turning up. “What is it, honey?”

“I don’t feel bad at all. I’m actually happy. That kinda is freaking me out a little. You shouldn’t be happy someone died.”

“Most people you’re right, you shouldn’t. But there are exceptions. He tormented you. He harassed you. He came after our family. I’m gonna sleep just fine tonight knowing he’s never coming back in our lives.”

“Were you scared of him?” He ducked his head down and you took hold of his hand. “Jensen.”

“Put it this way, I’d protect my family by any means necessary. What scares me was what if I was five minutes later tonight. Ten minutes. My job is to protect you and especially from monsters like that.”

“I’m a big girl Jensen. You don’t have to protect me from anything.”

“Yes I do, just like if it were me in your shoes I know you’d have done the same exact thing. We protect each other. It’s not because I’m the guy or I’m stronger. You’re my family and that’s what we do.”

“Thank you for protecting me and forgiving me for being stupid earlier,” you said. He smiled and nodded.

“You’re my dumbass and I’m yours,” he said. “Want to go home now?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

“He’s really gonna spend the night?” you asked half an hour later in bed, Jensen shutting the door after himself. “He knows there’s a cop outside, right?”

“What can I say, Jared...he thinks of you like a little sister,” he said. “I can’t blame him for being protective.”

“I’ll be right back,” you said. You climbed out of bed and went downstairs, the light dim aside from where Jared was reading on the couch, a blanket over his legs. He looked over the top of the book and set it down, sitting up.

“Everything alright?” he asked. You smiled and took a seat on the edge of the couch, pulling him into a hug. 

“Thanks for staying,” you said, a pair of large arms wrapped around your back. 

“Of course.”

“You do know there’s nobody to bother us now, right?”

“I know. Some peace of mind never hurt anybody though,” he said. “Go on back to your fiance. You guys had a rough night.”

“Yeah,” you said, closing your eyes. “Thanks.”

He kissed your temple and you returned to your room, Jensen pulling you under the covers. You let out a deep breath, turning into his side. 

“Here,” he said. He started to take off his bracelet but you shook your head.

“It’s yours, Jensen. I feel safe, I promise.”

“You’re tense still, honey.”

“Still working on that not being so angry at myself thing,” you said. He smiled and kissed you quickly, laying an arm over your waist. “I know what you said but I still want you to be pissed at me for lying.”

“You didn’t hurt me.”

“But-”

“You didn’t hurt me, Y/N and you know what? Sometimes, you’re gonna hurt me and I’m gonna hurt you. We’ll have bad days and get annoyed with one another. I’ll leave dishes in the sink and make a mess of the closet. You’ll chew with your mouth open and never fill up your car with gas until it’s too low. We’re not perfect. But even if we do hurt each other, we forgive each other because that’s what you do. We’re not always gonna like each other and what we do but we’ll always love each other. I don’t want to be mad at you. I want you to feel safe and know that I understand why you did what you did. I do. Please try to let it go, for me.”

“I am trying,” you said quietly. You shut your eyes and turned away, his arm over you pulling you back against his chest. “You’re normal. I can’t just stop hating myself like that.”

“You think I’m normal?” he chuckled. “Me?”

“Did you ever have to punch Dee’s psycho father? Did you ever have to talk about protecting her? Did she ever put your family in danger? Did she ever-”

“Y/N.”

“Go away,” you said, pushing his arm off of you. You moved over farther on your side of the bed, tucking your covers under your chin. The bed shifted and you tried to move again but his arm pulled you straight back to his chest, fingers dipping under your ribcage and holding you in place. 

“I might not have had to have done those things for her but I would have. For the record, you didn’t put anyone in danger. That fucking asshole did. It is not your fault he was an evil and vile person. All you did was try to protect us because you were scared and I know, I know you didn’t tell me because you’re so scared of that man and I don’t blame you. He made my skin crawl and I interacted with him for all of five minutes. Get it out of your system however you need to but you are stuck with me forever. There is nothing you could do to make me want you gone so get used to it.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” you breathed out. You pulled your sheets over your head, taking deep heaving breaths. “You have so much to worry about already. You shouldn’t have to…”

“Did you think I couldn’t handle the news?” he asked. “That your father was so close by?”

“I thought you’d hate me,” you whispered. He tugged down your sheets and you squeezed your eyes shut as he turned you around.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Now you’re angry.”

“Look at me.” You forced them open, meeting a soft face and sad eyes. “Why would I ever hate you?”

“My shit’s supposed to stay in the past. You don’t…” you said, Jensen furrowing his brow. “See, you’re mad.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Your shit stays in the past.”

“It means you’ve had the world’s worst fucking year and you’re in such a good place now and you need to focus on you and not have my shit come in and fuck that up.”

“Do you think I can’t take care of you?” he asked.

“No of course not.”

“It sounds like you’re saying that you think you can’t have problems cause I can’t handle it.”

“Well at least I got what I wanted with you pissed,” you said, glaring up at him, tears welling in your eyes. You tried to push away but he held his arm around you. “Jensen, let me up.” You pushed again and he glared right back. “Stop it. Let me out of bed.” He only glared and you tore your eyes away from his face. 

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“No,” you said, keeping your head low.

“Then why-”

“Because you need a fucking break. I dealt with this shit years and years ago. I understand needing a fucking break and people need to take care of you, help you. You’re a different man than the one I met way back in January. You’re so happy and healthy and you have a different outlook on life again and that’s incredible. I’m so proud of you for that. But you’re just, just out of the woods and I’m not gonna be the one that sends you back in because of my fucking problems.”

“They’re our fucking problems,” he said. “Our problems. There’s no your problems or my problems anymore. It’s us together. Why do you think I’d hate you?”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing on his chest. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“I said stop!”

“Tell me.”

“Because I’m scared,” you said. He let his hold go lax and you sat up, getting out of bed. You walked over to the balcony door and rested your forehead against the cool glass. The bed creaked and you felt his presence behind you. 

“You’re scared of me.” You scrunched up your face and nodded. “Why?”

“Because if you realized how fucked up I am, you wouldn’t come near me with a ten foot pole. I’m not supposed to cause you problems. I’m supposed to fix them, be there for you.”

“But I can’t be there for you. You assume I’m just a dick where it’s only me and my shit that we can work on right?” he said.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Relationships go both ways, Y/N. I don’t expect you to take care of me for the rest of my life. You are allowed to need help too.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand,” he said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around. He was frowning, his voice an octave higher if you didn’t know any better. “Do you honestly think I would have been angry at you if you told me about your father being in town? Do you?”

“I put the kids-”

“For the last time, you didn’t put anyone in danger,” he growled. “What is going on with you?”

“How many times do I have to say it, I’m not supposed to cause any problems!” you said.

“Yes you are! You, me, the kids. We’re all gonna have fucking problems sooner or later. Why do you think I’d hate you for telling me you had a problem, sweetheart?”

You fidgeted with the bottom of your shirt, looking past him.

“Something with your dad, isn’t it. Something got triggered in you after that phone call with the detective, didn’t it.”

“Call Ray. Tell him to come over,” you said quietly. He nodded and grabbed his phone, sending off a quick message before he was guiding you to sit on the bed.

“Honey,” he said when you pulled away from him. “Okay, no touching. Can I get you anything while we wait for Ray?”

“Probably should tell that cop that we’re expecting someone,” you said, rubbing your hands against your thighs. “Fuck, tell Ray it’s the help thing. He’ll understand.”

“Okay,” he said with a nod. You rubbed your legs harder and he stared at you. “Y/N.”

“I’m trying not to have a panic attack,” you grit out. “I haven’t had one since I was eight.”

Your head was turned and you felt his hands on your cheeks, Jensen forcing a smile. You stared for a long beat before you took a breath, his head nodding. 

“That feels better,” you said, your hands not rubbing so hard. You heard feet and the door open, glancing behind Jensen to catch Jared in the doorway. You could feel your heart rate pick up, Jared nodding.

“I get panic attacks too,” he said. You nodded and Jensen glanced over his shoulder. “I heard arguing.”

“Can you tell that cop outside Ray is coming by and to let him in?” said Jensen.

“Sure. Who’s Ray?” asked Jared.

“Her mom’s old boyfriend and foster dad. He was her therapist when she was little. Something’s not right,” said Jensen.

“I’ll send him up as soon as he gets here.”

You felt calmer by the time Ray was walking in fifteen minutes later in sweats and not much more. 

“Hey kiddo,” said Ray, giving you a quick hug before he squatted down in front of you. “Doing okay?”

You shook your head and shut your eyes, Jensen holding an arm around you. He explained what happened, Ray staying quiet. You eventually opened your eyes to stare at the floor, Ray standing and pulling over the bench from the end of the bed to sit on. 

“Y/N do you want Jensen to stay?” he asked. You nodded and he hummed. “Y/N.”

“Yes,” you said dryly. “Can I have some water?”

Jensen got up and retrieved a glass from the bathroom, the pair of them watching you chug half of it down before you sat it on the nightstand.

“Y/N, does Jensen know what triggered you?” he asked.

“Not specifically. Asking for help he figured out but not the reason,” you said, looking away. 

“Well on the bright side, you didn’t have a panic attack, you worked through it, you trusted Jensen to help you through it even if he didn’t know why and some of your coping skills helped you out quite a bit. But this is something Jensen needs to know. You’ll need help in a relationship and I know this is the big one but he needs to know so this never happens again,” said Ray. 

“What if he thinks I overreacted?” you said.

“I won’t, trust me,” said Jensen. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“Go on, Y/N,” said Ray. You took a deep breath and Jensen held your hand, stroking his thumb over the back.

“So you kinda figured out that me having a problem was the trigger and that I didn’t ask for your help earlier and kinda assumed a bad reaction if I did.”

“Yup and that’s all okay,” he said softly. 

“It wasn’t because of you that I assumed you’d have a bad reaction. It was something that happened to me that sort of...default my head to react and anticipate things in a certain way in that particular situation.”

“So if you have a problem and ask for help, you assume the person you’re asking for help from will not take it in a good way?” he asked.

“Yeah, basically. If it’s a really big problem and if I anticipate that the problem would upset the person I’m asking then my head assumes this bad thing will happen. In that case, it assumes the much better option is to not reveal the problem at all and handle it myself because then the bad thing won’t happen,” you said.

“The bad thing. It’s bad isn’t it,” he said. “Really bad.”

“Y/N, remember you can share without the graphics involved,” said Ray. You nodded and leaned your head back.

“When I was six I broke something of my dad’s. A mug. His favorite mug. I picked up the pieces but I knew it was his favorite so I didn’t throw it out. I asked him for help putting it back together,” you said. “The amount of rage he had over a broken mug...I never experienced such a horrible day in all eight years as that one.”

He didn’t say anything and you tucked your feet up, holding one up to him and showing the bottom. He stared at it and cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. It took him a moment but you saw when he noticed the small little scars. His eyes flickered back to yours and you nodded.

“He hurt me badly,” you said. “All day long.” He stared at you and you told him exactly the way the scars came to be, Jensen shuddering and closing his eyes. “It wasn’t a good day.”

“Fuck,” he said, standing up and rubbing his arm. “You were six?”

He shook his head and went to the balcony door, taking a deep breath.

“Jensen. You alright?” asked Ray.

“No,” he said, turning around, looking to you. “That many times?”

“One for every broken piece,” you said. He ran his hands over his face and shut his eyes. “The worst thing was just that it went on all day. It was long enough for me to interpret it as conditioning for a result of an event rather than just a bad memory from everything me and Ray worked out back in the day. It hasn’t been a trigger for me ever really but we knew it could be someday for a big life problem potentially. I’m guessing with it involving my dad, it kinda sent me into overdrive earlier.”

“Jensen,” said Ray, shooting you a quick glance. “Y/N’s okay. I’m actually quite impressed with her behavior. There was no hesitancy or waiver in her voice. I don’t feel as though this will likely be an issue ever again now that it’s out in the open and her father is gone.”

“You’re the closest thing to a father she’s ever had,” said Jensen, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know every horrible thing that’s happened to her and, and you just...all you did was throw him out of the country for fifteen years?”

“First off, the law was different back then and it was a lifetime ban. Second of all, buddy, violence isn’t always the answer to violence,” said Ray, getting to his feet.

“You should have adopted her.”

“She didn’t want me to.”

“You were the damn adult. She was the kid. Act like one,” said Jensen. “I mean fuck, you adopted two other kids only a few years later.”

“If I had adopted her you wouldn’t even know she fucking exists,” shot back Ray. “Her father still would have come back and this would have happened regardless.”

“You should have done what you needed to the second he popped up again when she was a teenager.”

“I did not strike you as a violent man but I do not like it.”

“She was almost assaulted by that man again tonight,” growled Jensen. “He tortured her and tormented her and he got barely any time at all for that. I would have-”

“Why’d you call the police then?” he asked. Jensen swallowed and Ray shrugged. “Why back at the farmhouse did you call the police? You could have killed him, called it self-defense and been done with it. Why?”

Jensen looked down and Ray sighed.

“The price for being a good person is making hard decisions, Jensen. Would I have loved to have rid the world of that son of a bitch the second I learned all about him? Oh you don’t know the half of it. I’m a trauma therapist, Jensen. Mostly for kids and teenagers. Do you know how much fucked up shit I’ve heard in my life? The world has so much ugliness in it. But it’s got good too and that’s why you called the police like you were supposed to and that’s why she loves you. She needs a good man, not a violent one. I’m not saying don’t think about protecting your family. But don’t act on it unless you don’t have a fucking choice, kid. Understand me?”

Jensen nodded and Ray cleared his throat.

“Say it.”

“Yes, sir,” said Jensen quietly.

“Ray, don’t get mad at him. He’s not used to this stuff,” you said. You stood and pulled Jensen back to the bed, Ray crossing his arms and nodding. “If I ever feel this happening again, what should I do?”

“You could work on reconditioning instead,” said Ray. “Work on saying I have a problem to Jensen and ask for help, even if there isn’t a problem. If Jensen responds positively or even neutrally and you two work at it maybe an hour or so a day for the next week or two, I don’t think you’ll ever have to be afraid of that trigger coming back. All of your triggers Y/N have involved your father. I know similarities can set you off but they’re small, manageable. You never have to worry about anyone hurting you ever again.”

“I know. I should have trusted my partner to have my back,” you said.

“I don’t blame you. I didn’t before and I definitely don’t now,” said Jensen. Ray smiled and pulled the bench back over to the bed. 

“Get some rest you two,” he said. 

“Ray?” you said after he gave you a hug. “Why didn’t you adopt me?”

“Honestly?” he asked. You nodded, Jensen preening his ears. “You reminded me so much of your mother and I was devastated when we lost her. I should have been the adult and done what was right but after seeing her in pain for years...I didn’t have it in me to take on a grieving teenager that would have been just as angry back at me. She already was so angry then, I would have put fuel on the flames. I didn’t have it in me to be strong anymore and that’s my mistake for not trying.”

“You can adopt adults,” said Jensen. You both looked at him and he smiled. “Adults can be adopted.”

“Not sure if…” trailed off Ray as you smiled at him. “Y/N, we’ve only just started talking again.”

“Maybe if that keeps going well...maybe things could...work out…” you said. “If you wanted.”

“Yeah, maybe we can do that,” he said with a smile. “It’s getting late. Put her to bed. Don’t be surprised if there’s a nightmare or two tonight.”

“Okay. Thank you,” said Jensen as Ray started to leave.

“Take care of her kid,” he said. Jensen nodded and you lay back in bed, the house growing quiet. 

“I’m so sorry,” said Jensen, his head lowering after a few moments. “I should have realized…”

“You did realize,” you said, sitting up. “Even when my head couldn’t come out and say I trust you and I know I’m acting a certain way because of what my dad put me through, you stayed calm and figured it out. You got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I’m sorry he hurt you. I got to pretend to be a cowboy and my dad read me stories when I was six. The worst thing I ever got was a few smacks but I know he regrets doing that,” he said. “Even then it was because I was acting out not…I just don’t understand why he would ever hurt you.”

“I stopped trying to understand him a long time ago,” you said, the door opening. You both turned, Arrow walking in with a pair of wet eyes. “You have a nightmare, sweetie?”

“I went…to the bathroom…” she said when you noticed her holding her wrist. Jensen hopped up and walked over, picking her up gently and setting her beside you. “I fell down off the step stool. It was wet.”

“Tell me what hurts,” he said.

“My hand,” she said. 

“Let daddy see,” you said. She moved her hand back and you both saw her wrist was swollen and bruised. Jensen swore under his breath and guided her hand back on it. “Okay, you hold it if it feels better that way, honey. Daddy, I think Arrow should go to urgent care.”

“Arrow, why don’t you go get your dolly and we’ll bring her with us. We might have to wait a minute,” he said. “Be careful okay? I’ll come get you in just a minute.”

“Mommy?” she asked, staring up at you. 

“Mommy’s really tired-” said Jensen when you stood up.

“Uncle Jared is staying over though, daddy. Go get your dolly and mommy and daddy will get dressed,” you said. She sniffled but climbed down okay, Jensen sighing when she left the room. “She wants me there and I want to be there. I’m going.”

“Alright but you’re going to try and get some sleep in the waiting room at least, please.”

“No promises.”

________

A/N: Read Part 17 here!

[adoringhaikyuu]

fighting with the boys 

characters: hinata, kageyama, tanaka, tsukishima, yamaguchi

summary: how the boys would react during + after a fight with you

notes: you can request more characters if you’d like! this is my first hq writing :) tagging some blogs that inspired me to start: @kageyuji​ @seita​ @katsushimaa​ @sugawaraxo​ @shoyokuns​ @keishinslove​ @pokk1pok​ @oreosmama​ 

hinata

i literally cannot even imagine why you would get into a fight with this pure boi

but he would 100% take the blame

it would most likely be a misunderstanding or you two are joking around and he takes it too far and he’s laughing until he notices that you’re unusually quiet

so he opens his eyes and looks at you, wide-eyed, analyzing you, getting more and more concerned

“what––what’s wrong?”

and you’d just give him the silent treatment and he’d only get more worried

“y/n?...”

and he just steps closer to you and tries to catch your eye but you look down, averting your gaze every time he almost catches you

and you can’t help but drag this out a little bit because it’s a little amusing (you’ll make it up to him afterwards)

but with the way he’s literally running around you as if he’s on the court, trying to get a good look at you and figure out what’s going on, you can’t stop yourself from laughing

and he realizes you’re just teasing him and just gasps before tackling you in a hug

he tucked his head into the crook of your shoulder and your neck, burying his cheeks into your soft skin. his arms were holding you tight, pressing you into him as he swayed you side to side. “don’t do that to me, y/n. you really had me scared!” 

you laugh, your hands coming up to play with his hair the way he likes and he sighs. “i’m sorry baby you just looked really cute all worried like that. i couldn’t help but tease you.”

at that, he pulls away slightly to look at you, his eyes wide and innocent, and oh so cute. you see his eyes flicker from yours to your lips quickly. “okay then you’re forgiven.” 

you smile and he reciprocates it, his eyes focused on your lips, almost like he’s in a trance. “can i have a kiss now? really wanna kiss you.”

and how can you say no to that?

kageyama

this absolute buffoon would most definitely say something he didn’t mean to you in the spur of the moment

he’s been overworking himself of course, focusing on volleyball a little too much and he doesn’t even realize how frustrated he is

but you’re talking to him and the more and more and you speak, the more concentrated he is on his moves, he’s literally playing things out in his head, not even listening to you

just as he figures something out, you get his attention again, only annoying him further

he snaps and says something rude and you stand there in disbelief for a moment before storming off

you know he didn’t mean it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting

and this boy would freeze up and just watch you go

because he has no idea what to do

and part of him feels really bad but he knows that he just pissed you off so you probably want nothing to do with him

but after a while he goes after you

it didn’t take long for kageyama to find you. he knew you better than you knew yourself, after all. you were sitting under your favorite tree outside the gym, picking at the grass mindlessly. you noticed when he came and stood in front of you, but you didn’t dare to look up.

he sighed after a moment and sat down next you. he waits for a moment before handing you your favorite drink. his eyes were practically piercing your face as he analyzed you, trying to gage your response. you looked up at his hand after a few seconds, biting your lip before deciding to take the drink. it was your favorite after all. 

he physically deflates for a second in relief once you take the drink from him but then sits up properly again, taking a sip from his milk as he gathers the courage to say something. he places the carton down next to him and scoots a little closer to you. “i––i’m sorry y/n. i––it was rude of me to act like that. i didn’t realize how frustrated i was and i just...i shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.”

you pause for a moment, swallowing before setting your drink aside and looking up at him hesitantly. his blue eyes are watching you like a hawk but you can tell that he’s genuinely sorry, not only because of his apology but because of the way he’s looking at you, like he’s afraid to do something wrong again.

you give him a small smile and reach for his hand which he eagerly gives to you, gaze still stuck on you. “you’re right, you shouldn’t have. but i forgive you tobio. but we need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself, okay? i don’t like seeing you so stressed.”

he just nods after every word, anxious to make things right, to not disappoint you. “of course. anything.”

you place a hand on his cheek and kiss him softly and you can tell as your lips connect and move in synchronization that you’re both so grateful for each other and glad that you’ve settled this fight.

tanaka

so tanaka absolutely adores you

like he’d do anything for you

but sometimes he just didn’t do his best at his games, 

he felt like everything was going wrong and he couldn’t help but let the frustrations get to him

so instead of being his cuddly and affectionate self with you like he normally is after games, he’s agitated and visibly frustrated

you can practically see the tension around his body

this leads to him shouting unintentionally and the two of you getting into a very unnecessary fight

there’s a lot of random childish things being yelled between the two of you, your voices loud and overlapping until you both just pause and the silence is overwhelmingly loud

he’s basically panting, looking at you with a fierce look in his eyes 

and soon you scoff in disbelief at the ridiculousness of the situation and turn around to try and leave, deciding you both need to cool off 

and that’s when he snaps out of it

you really think he’s going to let you get away? absolutely not

he needs to make up for it immediately

you gasped as tanaka grabbed your arm and yanked you back to face him. before you could protest, he pulled you into his embrace, making you huff. yeah, he felt warm (and a little sweaty) but you were still upset. 

your face was smushed into his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, his limbs tightening like a vice. his cheek was pressed against your head, almost as if he were stuck to you. 

“baby i’m so sorry!” ever so dramatic, he starts yelling as if he’s proclaiming his love to you. “i was just so frustrated but i never meant to take it out on you babygirl, i didn’t mean it! please forgive me!” 

slowly, your arms go up and hold him back and you could feel and hear him release a breath of relief. “alright, you idiot. i forgive you.” 

“thank you darling.” he mumbles against you, still not letting you go, even holding you tighter. “can we go cuddle now?” 

tsukki

tsukishima can be very ruthless and very blunt

even with you, unfortunately

and while sometimes you love that about him, especially when he tells people off (it’s kinda hot, okay.)

sometimes you really hate it 

he’d say something really out of pocket

but the thing is, he doesn’t even realize, he just thinks he’s being honest

(which doesn’t help his case, but––)

you’d just pause and look at him, letting out a small whisper of his name

and he’s not even looking at you, so he doesn’t realize you’re upset

he just shrugs, a smirk on his face

“what? it’s true.” 

and when you don’t reply with a snarky comeback (like he loves), he looks up at you and his brows furrow when he notices your eyes watering

you just close your mouth and sit there, eyes focused on the floor in front of you as you cross your arms, too hurt to even move

and he pauses as well, in shock because it was absolutely not his intention to make you feel bad

but he soon clears his throat and apologizes

“i––i’m sorry y/n.” he’d step closer to you and when you don’t move away, he closes the distance, looking down at you in concern. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i was just––joking around.” 

you’d still be looking down, swallowing harshly when he places a gentle large hand on your cheek, wiping your tears and lifting your head up softly. “look at me please?” 

you look up and bite your lip nervously, feeling exposed. he debates with himself for a bit and you can physically see him contemplating in his head. about what? you have no idea. but then it all clicks when he leans down and plants a lingering kiss on your forehead. you know he’s not an affectionate person easily, especially when there’s tension between the two of you so it brings a small smile to your face. 

you look into his eyes and you can see the concern and the love for you in them. “i truly am sorry.”

you smile up at him before pulling him in for a hug. he wraps his arms around you immediately and all the tension leaves his body. “it’s okay tsukki.” 

he holds you tight and leaves a kiss on your forehead again. “love you pretty girl.”

yamaguchi

so let’s say this were to happen while he was trying to learn how to perfect the jump float serve

he would be spending so much time focusing on perfecting his technique, that he lost track of time

which unfortunately meant that he forgot that he promised to have a movie night with you while your parents were out of town for the weekend

now when tadashi trains, he takes it very seriously, not stopping until his limbs hurt and until he’s too tired to move

which means that he also did not check his phone

so when he finally finished after hours of practice and checked his phone, seeing all the messages from you, his heart sank

his eyes widened and his breath hitched 

he could feel the tears rising up, blurring his vision

he felt terrible

he knew he absolutely had to make it up to you

he stopped by the store and picked up all of your favorite snacks and then by your favorite takeout place and made his way over to your place

now you knew he most likely didn’t mean to skip your date, he would never do that to you, he was too sweet

but that didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when he didn’t show up after hours of you waiting for him

so when you saw his frantic messages of him apologizing and explaining everything, you weren’t too surprised, but still a little sad

when he rang the doorbell about forty-five minutes later, you let him in and stepped aside, your eyes not looking up at him

he pouted but thanked you and stepped inside 

it was then that you noticed the things in his hands

“princess i’m so sorry.” his voice was trembling and when you looked up, you could see the redness in his eyes, the flush in his cheeks. he was really worked up over this. “i lost track of time and i––i hadn’t checked my phone because i was practicing i didn’t mean to ditch you––”

you stepped closer to him and took the things out of his hands, placing them on the counter before putting your hands on his cheeks and looking into his eyes. his eyes were wide as he looked at you, an undeniably guilty look in them. 

“it’s okay tadashi. i knew you didn’t mean to.” you gave him a kiss to stop his rambling and he sighed, almost as if he felt he didn’t deserve it, but you deepened it, pulling him closer. you pulled away and looked up at him pointedly. “i forgive you, okay?” you look over to the bags he brought. “plus how can i not when you spoil me like this?”

his cheeks get even more pink as he laughs nervously. “it’s only what you deserve.”

[oopsimbug]

in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

*

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

**

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

[secondhand-trash]

Lost in Blues

A/N: this is a rewrite of the Oikawa drabble I posted last year. To me, it was one of the things I written that I had a lot of ideas for but ruined because I was rushing it so I really want to give the idea another chance. This does not have nearly the same vibe as the old one and I think I am glad that I decided to rewrite it. I’m still debating whether I would private the old one or not but I’m definitely way happier with how this turns out than the last time round.

Pairing: Oikawa Tooru x reader

Description: You gave him the most reckless, carefree days of your life and you did not expect to meet him again at a wedding of all occasions after those days were long over.

Word count: 2140

(more lines I like from things I like as prompts for people I like)

-

“Is it ‘running through the airport’ kind of love?”

“The only person I’d run through an airport for is you.”

Season 2, ep6, Fleabag

-

There was nothing you could think of that was possibly worse than sitting next to your ex at a wedding.

The nicely-tailored jacket on your shoulders felt more restrictive than it had been before you looked up when you heard someone asking if it was alright to sit next to you and it was him. Your eyes widened (just slightly, very slightly and you hoped he didn’t catch it) when you saw him, giving a curt nod before shifting farther away from the empty seat so that there would be a bit of distance between the two of you after he sat down.

You were dressed to the nines, putting in way more effort than you normally would into your appearance which turned out to be a brilliant decision on your part. He looked great, as he used to be and probably always would be, with his dress shirt and polished leather shoes. You would hate to admit that you stole a quick glance at the person you knew so well when the string quartet started playing, losing to your curiosity to know how much he had changed and how much was the same. His hair got shorted, the bangs he had cared for so meticulously before now gone and pushed to the side in a way that finally stopped screaming ‘teen idol’. His jaw grew stronger, the boyish roundness of his cheeks gone without a trace. But he was still loud, even as he sat there in silence and listened to the band. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, which was already too flamboyant as a wedding guest for your taste. The golden buckle of his belt shined far too bright with each shift of his body and you could not ignore the ring of a matching tone on his thumb as you turned your focus away when you realised you probably shouldn’t be staring at your ex’s belt of all places.

You knew you probably wouldn’t look better or even as good as he was, but you sure was glad that you were at least looking like you had a good life after exiting out of his.

You hoped he would pretend that he does not know you for the rest of the ceremony, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t.

“It’s been a while,” you had to bite back the sigh that nearly slipped from your lips when you heard him, “how have you been?”

See, spot on.

You tried to not make your exasperation too obvious as you turned to his side slightly, putting on a smile that was friendly enough to be polite but also enough distant for him to know that you were not particularly thrilled for this conversation.

It wasn’t that you two ended on bad terms, but the way you slowly drifted apart was nowhere near satisfactory either.

“Good,” you said, “you?”

His throat tightened at your clear disinterested. The more logical thing he should have done when he walked through the door and saw you at the end of the row all by yourself was to sit at the other end of the room, one that made sure you two would not be in each other’s view until the whole ceremony was over. But it had been so long, and his legs were moving before his mind could stop him until he was standing right next to you.

“Doing good too,” he replied, trying his best to keep the conversation going, “are you here with anyone?”

“No,” you swallowed the lump at the back of your throat and kept your smile on, “I’m on my own.”

“Oh?” his voice slightly sharpened, tilting his head in both interest and in shock, 

You shrugged, “My boyfriend doesn’t work here so he couldn’t make it.”

There was a brief pause.

“Oh,” he said, feeling a slight bitterness well up at the back of his throat at how ironically similar it sounded like.

He gulped, debating in his head whether it was worth risking it to say what he wanted to say.

The side that wanted to know how it was different this time won.

“Did you run through an airport for him too?” he said, trying to put on the most charming, non-offensive smile he could manage.

He was relieved that the gambling paid off when you actually let out a snort.

“No,” your shoulder pulled back slightly as you shook your head, your eyes dropping when you felt a hint of fondness welling up at the recall of the piece of memory that had been tugged at the back of your head, “I don’t run through airports anymore.”

You ran through an airport for the man who was now sitting next to you and even though it was an utterly stupid decision on your part, the reminiscence of your naïve romance brought a bitter-sweet sore to your chest. It was 8 years ago but almost felt longer, when he was about to leave the country to go to the other end of the globe. He did not tell you, that asshole who always decided everything for himself and just ran straight ahead for it. You wouldn’t even know he was leaving if you did not get your phone bombed by frantic calls from his best friend who yelled at you when you finally picked up.

“That shithead is leaving for Argentine in a few hours,” Iwaizumi sucked in a breath, sounding out of breath as he spitted words out of his mouth before you could ask him why he was telling you that, “and I know both of you are too fucking proud to say anything but if you come now, you can still make it in time before he needs to board his flight.”

“So just come, just-” you barely heard the last of his call and the sound of boys hollering from behind him when you threw your phone down onto your bag and grab the nearest shirt you could reach, “come.”

You barely made it in time to the airport and almost got lost because, hell, why was Sendai Airport so god damn big for no good reason at all. You had to run just to get there when he was about to walk past the glass walls of the departure hall, his friends holding him back by the arms when his mouth hung open in shock when he heard you call out his name from the far end of the hall.

You almost knocked him down when you crashed into him, his arms waving around aimlessly before he realised he should be holding you back instead.

"Why are you-”

“You’re an asshole and I hate that I’m doing this,” you muttered, fighting back the tears that were welling up at the corner of your eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he let out a soft gasped, but allowing the burst of warmth in his chest to take over when you let out a laugh through the sob that broke through.

It was reckless, it was embarrassing and people were probably staring but you honestly didn’t care less. You were so in love with him and for reasons you could not believe, he was so in love with you.

And at that moment when he ignored how ugly you probably looked with tear and snot running down your chin and kissed you like he had been waiting for this, it seemed like every piece of the puzzle had clicked into the right place at last.

But the fairytale ended right after the climax, when the story had to continue past the point when the prince finally kissed the princess and everyone rejoiced.

At first, the distance didn’t bother you at all. You were okay with calling him every evening to say “good morning” to him, and he gladly did the same when he was walking home to his empty one-room apartment after another rough day at practice. He told you he was tired but he felt energised again when he got to hear your voice and you made fun of him for being cheesy on the tongue while smiling ear to ear. You believed that your love could win against time and distance, he believed that you two could definitely find a way. 

The question of what would happen if this lasted and who should make sacrifices for who hung over the air, but you didn’t care. You were still so young, you had time.

Until waiting for the call to come only to get nothing but a text many hours later saying that practice held him up started to make you feel frustrated and you were tired of being expected to be the considerate one because he was the one with big dreams you should support. The insecurities he thought he could push down turned ugly when you started to have more and more friends that he wouldn’t be notified of until they appear in your pictures, some standing far too close to you that his bitterness seeped through when he couldn’t stop himself from talking about how happy you seemed to be when he finally had time to sit down and take your call.

“And what is wrong with that?” you gritted, and felt even more aggravated when you remembered seeing his teammate tagged him in a picture where they were out clubbing only moments after he finally texted you saying he was too tired and needed to rest instead of having your weekly video call, “Why am I not allowed to be happy with people who are around me?”

And you also had your insecurities, and he was young and in a place where everything was new to him, and you knew he could be having a much more reckless time if he didn’t have to think about whether it would upset you when you found out, and he knew he could not give you a good enough reason to not feel unsafe, and he already made a choice on where way he wanted to head towards when he boarded that plane.

A way that you felt would be better for the both of you if you turn back while you could still think back on the times you did love him with a fond smile.

Running through the airport was so much easier than the rest that came after.

You were still smiling but quiet until you slowly parted your lips and looked up.

“The only person I’d run through an airport for is you.”

He shared the most reckless, the most carefree days of your life but you grew up now, and now you wanted someone who you did not need to run after.

He seemed like he wanted to say something, but the stop of the strings also put a stop to the moment.

“Dearly beloved…”

“It’s starting.”

You did not talk again for the rest of the ceremony.

-

“Are you free?”

You paused your hand that was shoving your phone back into your bag after pulling it out to check what time it was when Oikawa turned to your side. The ceremony ended and it was almost 6, not too early and not too late. The sun was sinking outside and the golden rays shined through the stained glass windows of the ceremony hall. 

You blinked, “After this, you mean?”

“Yeah,” he toyed with the thick gold band on his thumb, “do you have time?”

He regretted it the moment he asked. It had been seven years since you last talked and if he had never once wanted to contact you again then he sure shouldn’t have done it now. You also had someone else, to add to it, someone who you could do long-distance with and not looked distressed when you bring it up, what type of person would he looked like now after he asked his ex if they were free after a wedding?

To his relief, you did not seem too taken aback. You only looked down, pulled your phone out again to unlock your screen and look at the time before locking your eyebrows together, putting it away when you finished calculating. 

“Nah,” you shook your head with a tiny smile, “I have a call with someone later.”

You said ‘someone’ but he caught the hint from the way the corner of your lips lifted up just a little higher. 

Oikawa Tooru laughed, something he did not expect himself to do. 

You were doing well, like him, even though in separate places and with separate people.

That was good.

So he said it, smiling without knowing that he was, “That’s good.”

He meant it.

“Yeah,” you nodded and smiled back, this time at him and with ease, “it is.”

And so did you.

[tenthgrove]

hey there!👋 i saw that request are still open and since your writing is one of my biggest comforts lately, i’d like to humbly request a scenario with la squadra and a reader that gets really mad and the boys just finding that hot/impressive. (maybe reader starts cussing if you’re fine with writing that) Like for example, they captured an enemy and they’re trying to get some information out of them, but the enemy refused to talk. watching reader chan get the information out of the enemy with admiration :)

keep up the good work and stay safe <3

“Don’t Talk to Me, am Angy”

La Squadra x Reader, Romantic and Suggestive, SFWish (implications of torture and sex)

Formaggio- Though he isn’t the worst in the team, Formaggio has an ample sadistic streak of his own, so he isn’t exactly going to stop you from taking things to the extreme if you lose your temper with a target. He won’t join in unless you ask him to help you, since he doesn’t want to get in the way of your fun. In fact, he’s having an absolutely swell time just watching you. What does concern him is you getting your own pretty head worked up, so if you start to seem genuinely upset by the target’s refusal to cooperate, he’ll step in with some sweet words to calm you down. If you’re up for it, he’s more than happy to take you off to the bedroom there and then so you can release your anger... by other means. It’s not like the target’s going anywhere. Not after what you did to him.

Illuso- His reaction is going to be very similar to Formaggio in the sense that he’s going to very openly enjoy watching your little rampage. However, he’ll be much quicker to join in. His stand is basically made for playing with defenceless targets and he’ll be happy to take just the three of you into the mirror world so all the other chucklefucks can’t intervene. He absolutely revels in how hot you are when angry, but he’s not going to admit how flustered you’re making him. He’s the hot and dashing one in this relationship, okay? But after you’ve calmed down, you may notice in retrospect that his eyes were on you throughout the whole thing. Also, much like Formaggio, Illuso is not at all against using your breath-taking outburst to provoke a wonderful night in bed.

Pesci- Please stop, you’re scaring him. Pesci knows full well that interrogating enemies like this is part of the job, but he hates seeing you get so unlike yourself. Of course Pesci loves your stubbornness, it makes him feel safe at your side, but all this shouting and screaming can’t be good for you. He’ll try talking you into calming you down and hanging onto your arm so you don’t do anything that might hurt yourself. But of course this only makes you angrier, since he’s ruining the tone you idiot. But in the end, you can only do so much shouting before you tire yourself out. Head in your hands, you apologise to Pesci and agree to let him take you to another room to cool off.

Prosciutto- There’s absolutely no issue reminding a captured enemy of the power you hold over them, but acting like an unstable pinhead will do you no good. Prosciutto cares about you, and on top of that your performance reflects on him as your teammate. So, you’re either going to do this like an adult or you’re leaving this to him. And now you’re yelling at him even more. Fantastic. That’s it, you’re going to your room and he’s going to carry you kicking and screaming if that’s what it takes. Prosciutto comes back downstairs alone to finish up the interrogation and he starts to feel bad. Not only did he maybe overreact, but deep down he really enjoyed you let go of your inhibitions like that. He’ll give you a rare apology when he returns, and offer to spend the rest of the evening making time for you, whatever you want that to entail.

Melone- Y’all are lucky/unlucky this blog doesn’t write hard smut. Needless to say, Melone is incredibly attracted to feistiness and he won’t be able to focus on anything except how you look with your limbs tense, lips quivering in anger. You’re so damn determined and headstrong, and he kind of wishes that some of your harsh words were directed at him. While he’s debating how best to get you like this with him more often without jeopardising your relationship, you snap around and ask what he’s staring at. Melone’s response is... considerably more honest and detailed than it needed to be. If your target wasn’t praying for death before, they sure are now.

Ghiaccio-

Yeah.

Risotto- Though he may raise an eyebrow at your voraciousness, Risotto trusts you as an assassin and as a person, so he’s not going to question your techniques unless he has reason for concern. He’ll simply stand in the corner with his arms crossed, watching silently as you do what you need to. If you’re genuinely having trouble with the target or if you’re pressed for time and they aren’t talking, he’ll intervene with your permission to speed things up. There’s a fair chance just the sight of him stepping forth out of the shadows will make the target start cracking. Once it’s over, if you seemed uncharacteristically angry, Risotto will find a time to ask you if anything’s been bothering you lately and making you seem more stressed than usual. Provided there’s nothing seriously wrong, he will then confess how attractive he found your behaviour back there. It creates some interesting possibilities for your relationship he’d like to explore.

Sorbet- It seems you and Sorbet have something in common. In spite of his typically relaxed, quiet demeanour, Sorbet goes absolutely nuts when there’s a target in front of him and not too many others around. You, him and Gelato will probably scare the target into talking within about 10 seconds of entering the room, but failing that, you’re definitely going to enjoy yourselves. But as fast as Sorbet’s switch can be flipped, it can be flipped back the other way, and if he sees you taking things too far in terms of your own emotional state. This is meant to be a bit of fun, and it’s no good if you’re letting the target’s words get to you. Rest assured however that the captive will be thoroughly punished for inconveniencing one of Sorbet’s darlings.

Gelato- I’m tempted to make the same joke as for Ghiaccio, but Gelato would be way more self- aware. He’s going to deliberately try to make the target less inclined to talk just so the three of you have more excuse to terrorise him. The fact, while he’s just having a bit of fun, you’ve gotten so genuinely worked up over a piece of dirt like this isn’t lost on him, and he finds it absolutely adorable. When Sorbet puts the breaks on things he’s going to be upset and pout. Can’t they keep going for a few more minutes? It’s not like you’re going to give yourself a heart attack. Anyway, even if things are cut short you’ve now gotten Gelato horni and he’s not letting you rest anytime soon. If Sorbet’s going to insist on staying downstairs rather than coming up with you then that’s his problem.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

How Bad is Sia’s “Music” really?

I watched it illegally (because there was no way I was paying for that bullshit) and found out. It’s not as bad as we thought... It’s worse.

TW for ableism, Sia, drugs, alcohol, just in general a terrible movie, meltdowns, blackface

Literally the first thing you hear while they’re showing the production companies is THOSE stereotypical noises. If you’ve seen the trailer, you’ll know what I mean.

And yes, she does this for the WHOLE fucking movie

What was the need to show her in her underwear? Maddie Ziegler was 14 when this was made, so what was the need??? And why did Sia prolong the scene by having her hitting herself?

Less than a minute in and my reaction was already “what the fuck is this shit?”

So the opening number not only had stereotypical exaggerated facial expression, it has Maddie in BLACKFACE?!? And with culturally appropriated hair?!?

The exaggerated facial expressions are literally constant and I took photos during the film to show it, more later, but I’ll keep mentioning it

ITS LITERALLY THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME SHE IS ON SCREEN

Even her way of walking is fucking offensive, Jesus Christ

The vocalisations just had me cringing so hard, I cannot describe how awful it made me feel

Why do all the neighbours need to be paid off and help her when she goes for a walk? I don’t-

Yes, by about the five minute mark I was already seriously debating all my life decisions. It was that bad.

Kate Hudson really didn’t give a fuck that her grandma died

I will keep saying it but WHY are the facial expressions/vocalisations CONSTANT?!! Literally they do not stop at all. I work with a child who is actually similar to this in that he’s nonverbal and he makes similar noises/faces, but the way they’re in this movie is so over-exaggerated?!? And even the kid I work with doesn’t do it 24/7?!?

Sia, calling your characters Zu and Music doesn’t make them interesting in the slightest. They’re still painfully terrible and one dimensional

Literally ONE minute after being left alone with her autistic sister, Zu calls the mental health service asking if they could “theoretically” “pick up” her sister?!? Like she wants to get rid of her already?!?

“A magical little girl” - autism isn’t a magical power?!? And Music is a young woman, not a little girl?!? Why are you infantilising her?!?

Okay I’m not being funny but this choreography is NOT hard. ANYONE can do it, so claiming that you needed to hire a dancer to be Music because of the numbers is literally bullshit (and even so, there are so many amazing autistic actors and dancers?!?)

20 minutes in and I wanted to give up

So she had her first meltdown because her hair didn’t get braided immediately and that’s... certainly interesting??

The fact that Leslie Odom’s character says “I’m going to crush you now”?!?

AND THEN HE FUCKING PICKS HER UP AND FULL-BODILY PINS HER DOWN ONTO THE FLOOR

“I’m crushing her with my love” - oh fuck you, just fuck you

So Sia lied, the restraint scenes were NOT removed and there was no warning. She’s a fucking POS liar

I have no idea why he’s called Ebo or why he has such a cliche African accent?!? I might have missed out on why because I was busy trying not to bang my head into the table while I watched this film but just... yikes

“He (his brother) liked to be held” - YEAH, HELD. NOT FUCKING CRUSHED

“He is dead now” - IM NOT FUCKING SURPRISED IF YOU CRUSHED HIM LIKE THAT

The constant babying and patronizing of the autistic character is so exhausting to watch. I’m so tired

“Planning on sending her to the people pound but I guess I’ll keep her a little longer” - SHE WAS JOKING BUT THAT WAS NOT EVEN REMOTELY A FUNNY JOKE. NOT EVEN IN AN AWKWARD WAY

STOP THE FACES IM-

^ YEAH, Sia, totally a fucking love letter to the autistic community here ^

So Zu finds this necklace she made as a kid that had a little dog on it, and she says to Music, “He had seizures too, just like you”... MELTDOWNS AND SEIZURES ARE NOT EVEN REMOTELY THE SAME FUCK THIS MOVIE-

It’s like Sia is trying to make the movie funny but it’s really not at all

Is Zu implying that Music is autistic because the mum was a junkie?!?

For real though, the dialogue in general is so fucking awful and cringey. Whoever wrote this should never be allowed to write again

Did she seriously leave her autistic sister alone to talk to who I’m presuming was her dealer or loan shark?!?

Also why is he - a white dude - wearing cornrows?!?

So who is the film really about? The autistic girl or the older sister saviour? I think we all know the answer to that one

WHY IS SHE WALKING AROUND WITH HER TEETH JUTTING OUT LIKE THAT ALL THE TIME

The musical numbers are literally so painful to watch. The overly bright colours, the flashing... my eyes were hurting and so was my brain

Autism representation aside for a second, the musical numbers/choreography are all fucking atrocious. Ditto for the costumes

LIKE WHAT THE FUCK WERE THE PINK OOMPA LOOMPA FRUIT THINGS?!? THEY LOOK LIKE THE PINK VERSIONS OF VIOLET BEAUREGARDE THE BLUEBERRY

I wanted to cry by this point, this movie is far more awful than I thought

“I’m not saying she doesn’t want to change, I’m saying she can’t” - FUCK YOU. Why is it okay for him to assume what she can or can’t do

Can I just say that autistic people aren’t constantly in a coked up wonderland state?!! We don’t see the world as a wonderland fantasy world 24/7?!!

“She can hear you from two rooms away” / *shows her listening through two brick walls to a conversation* — Also, we don’t have super fucking sonic hearing?? WE CANT HEAR THROUGH FUCKING BRICK WALLS?!?

“She can understand everything you’re saying to her” - she’s autistic not fucking deaf

Less than 45 minutes in, there’s another meltdown in the park

“I’m not climbing on top of a small screaming white girl in public” - yeah please fucking don’t

So Zu fucking pins her down with her weight 🤦‍♀️

“She doesn’t know who she’s hitting” - IM SORRY WHAT

EBO LITERALLY SAID “TREAT HER LIKE A BEAR” when talking her through the prone restraint, I fucking CANNOT

“Tell her she’s safe” - NOT IF YOU FUCKING RESTRAIN HER LIKE THAT SHE IS NOT

The fact that she gets up, smiling and happy after a meltdown and immediately is excited to get a snow cone... I can honestly say that after a meltdown, I am in no way happy or smiling. I am often not very verbal and I’m withdrawn/not myself for at least several hours, usually the rest of the day. Fuck this film

This film is literally just about Zu, and Music is there for a plot device to give her character development. That’s all she’s there for.

Love how Sia shoehorned Zu being suicidal in there. You know, just to try and make her more easy to sympathize with (it doesn’t work)

This film is literally just a 1 hour 47 minute Sia music video with ZERO plot

WHY WERE THEY WEARING PILLOW DIAPERS IN ONE NUMBER-

I really did not feel into the side plot with that guy who was fighting but it was still better than the actual movie so...

I am SO DONE with the NON STOP CONSTANT vocal shit. So tired.

LOJ’s only role in this film is to be the stereotypical wise black guy who assists a white woman’s story. There’s like hardly any other depth there

The Ebo/Zu romance is so fucking stupid and pointless and out of NOWHERE. I couldn’t even tell if they were into each other or not

I was already so bored of the musical numbers by this point. They added NOTHING to the plot but they pretended they did, and I was so over it. And it’s not because I’m not “creative enough” or anything to understand, I love musicals and I think it could have been cool if done right... but it wasn’t. They were a mess. It’s just bad.

Sia really tried to pretend her movie was deep but really it’s a shallow mess

So Zu is meeting rich drug clients and says to Music “try not to have one of your freak outs up there” and “if you could try to get it out now”... FUCKING YIKES. It’s not an on/off button, shut the fuck up

YEP THIS WAS THE SIA CAMEO FUCK THAT BITCH

The fact that she just calls “DRUG DEALER?!? DRUG DEALER IS THAT YOU”, fucking end this please-

I fucking hate this bitch I’m dead serious

“We’re gonna send them to Haiti cause there’s been an earthquake. All these buildings fell down, children’s bones were dislocated” - WHY WAS SHE SO CHEERFUL ABOUT IT

“Gonna buy a shit load of pain meds, gonna but them on my private plane” - FUCKYOUFUCKYOUFUCKYOU

“Pop stars without borders” - Sia thinks she’s so clever but I would give anything to punch her I swear-

ANOTHER MUSICAL NUMBER JUST STOP IM BEGGING YOU

There’s this awkward conversation/bit with Zu and her drug dealer/loanshark about his outfit that was clearly meant to be funny but was just flat and painful

Yep, Sia really showed Music eating chewing gum off the underside of a park bench. Of course.

Look, the kid I work with does similar stuff by putting literally anything and everything in his mouth but like... why would you put that in your movie?

And there’s no indication before this that Music puts everything and anything in her mouth, she just randomly decides to get on her knees, under the bench and eat chewing gum, like she calculates that it’s there and gets it???

She has a THIRD meltdown after an allergic reaction to a bee sting and her sister just yells at her before realizing... I’m not here for this movie, I feel like I drifted off and was not really there

So Zu got angry because she left the drugs at the park but she’s not that upset that her sister had an allergic reaction???

Zu gets absolutely drunk because a) she lost Sia’s drugs and b) she’s stressed out by her autistic sister... wow, great message, Sia!

She really fucked off and left her sister alone to go clubbing/on a bender

The less said about the musical number here the better

Sia’s movie also checks the box of having stereotypical Asian parents, specifically stereotypical Asian dad being harsh/angry and hitting his wife!

ALSO HE PUSHED AND KILLED HIS SON WTF IS HAPPENING

Less than 3 minutes after the last, there’s a musical number that I think was about this side character going to heaven... another shitty Sia-esque number

The patterns during the number made my brain hurt.

Also there are so many autistic actors who can also dance, and yet Sia chose the neurotypical one because ✨ N E P O T I S M ✨

I just want to know how it was deemed necessary to show the fact the autistic character peed/wet herself? I mean... ??? It’s just so undignified and not at all necessary to the plot. Nothing happens after that, it just moves onto the next scene and it didn’t do anything

“I have no one” - 1) YOUR FUCKING SISTER. 2) GEE I FUCKING WONDER WHY, couldn’t be that you’re a shitty human being?!?

There’s a scene where Music is walking and she does ALL the stereotypical behaviours at once... just YIKES

Zu somehow stopped another meltdown just by grabbing Music by the shoulders and sitting her down???

Aaand yep. Another shitty musical number

Zu really goes to put her sister in a fucking facility and claims it’ll be “better for her” - BULLSHIT. Better for Zu, maybe, not Music.

Ah yes - the girl who the characters have said has problems with routines being changed/change in general... you’re now going to fuck up her routine by dumping her in a facility. Perfect Plan.

The nonverbal autistic girl suddenly speaking to say “don’t go” - you can just predict it from the off, can’t you?

Love that as soon as Music starts talking, Zu is like “fuck it, I’ll keep her!”

Zu really went and crashed Ebo’s brothers wedding... in a fucking bralette... YIKES

“I almost gave Music away” - SHE IS NOT A DOG YOU DONT GIVE PEOPLE AWAY

“We should sing a song” - PLEASE DO FUCKING NOT

Also that kiss/romance montage between Zu and Ebo was the CRINGIEST fucking shit ever

This movie seems to be implying that Music has locked in syndrome or something, like she’s locked in her own head or whatever it’s called, and I just... *sigh*

Oh and now Music magically fucking sings in a room FULL of strangers... this is literally embarrassing, please let this end

I mean it, this movie was fucking painful to watch on ever level

She got a service dog puppy which... okay?

Oh look, it’s the only decent song on the soundtrack but with an absolutely shitty over-stimulatory music video with the credits!

I can only name 5 characters in this film. Maybe 7 at a push, but even then I would be guessing

AND YEP SHE THANKED AUTISM SPEAKS OVER THE CREDITS. FUCK YOU SIA 🖕🏻

Let me reiterate: this is a movie about a neurotypical former drug addict whose character development comes from the autistic character, from having an autistic sister she has to take care of. I’m so tired.

We are NOT plot devices or tools for character development. Not once does anyone in this film treat Music like a human being - she’s treated as a burden, a problem, and then like a pet that they decide to keep. Not once is the film focused on how she is feeling - it’s always about Zu or Ebo. The performance itself was so over exaggerated and it made me want to cry when I watched it because this is how the world sees us, and this movie will make it ten times worse. It’s stuff like this that made me think “I don’t want to be labelled as autistic because people will think I’m a certain way”, that made me wait so long before going to the GP to get a referral.

As I said, poor autistic representation aside, the movie is just so appallingly bad. It truly is one of the worst films I’ve watched. If you’re going to watch it, please don’t - or, if you want to because you want to see how bad it is/to raise awareness/critical posts, at least do it illegally. Do not give Sia your money.

[enmy-writes]

Just Let Me Help You

Summary: Zuko, trying to keep is girlfriend safe, unintentionally gains the trust of the Gaang after a showdown with Combustion Man.

Word Count: 2728

Fandom: ATLA (Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Pairing: Zuko x Fem!Reader

Genre: Mostly fluff, is fluff-angst a thing? Idk guys I’m soft, you tell me.

Rated: 18+

Content Warnings: Profanity, some gore graphics (brief mentions of blood, killing, murder), uhhhh that’s it I think I’m sorry if I forget anything else.

****Huge shout-out to my friends Kenz and Jenna for editing this and hyping me up. Hopefully, since this semester from Hell will be over soon, I’ll be able to write more. Please request things! Thank-you all for supporting this and let me know more of what you want to see in the future :) Also, feedback is always welcome. Enjoy!****

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They had landed the war balloon days ago, stalking the tired and defeated Team Avatar and trying to figure out how the complicated Fire Prince would convince the people he chased for months that he wants to help them now.

(Y/N) was stoking the hot flame provided by the fire bender, making sure the coals were burning a cherry red before she added leaves and herbs into a pot to make a stew for the two to enjoy. Her eyes followed Zuko as he paced back and forth, practicing what he was going to say when he finally decided to confront the rebel group, lips turned upward in an amused smirk.

“Hey, Zuko here…” she heard him say before he started rambling a bunch of nonsense about his past; from his discovery, to Azula, to his father-- all the tragic topics. It took him about three minutes, but he finished with a hopeful look in his direction.

“Well?!” He clenched his fists at his side in a nervous gesture, only wanting to get this right.

The girl on the log cleared her throat before speaking, obviously hiding her laughter from the sensitive boy. “Well… it’s perfect. I especially liked the ‘Hey, Zuko here’ part. I’m sure that Aang and his friends with be very pleased to finally learn your name instead of thinking you’re called ‘Angry Ponytail Hotman’.’’

He groaned loudly, rubbing his eyes with clenched fists. The melodic laughter from his companion tempted him to give up his quest and just run away with her and live a happy life free of his father and his destiny… whatever that may be.

Still laughing, (Y/N) stood from her log by the fire and made her way to Zuko, coming up behind him. Her arms slid right around his slim body, holding on tight as she tried to pull his mind from the depths of his insecurities.

“Zuko, love.” Her voice is soft, but intense. “Just go down there. I won’t lie, they might not take you right away. You have done a lot of damage to them and their goals.”

His warm hands slide down the tops of her forearms and slide between her chilled fingers, entwining them together as Zuko grips her like she’s holding him down on the land they’re on.

“I… I just…” He struggles to get his feelings out, finding it hard to convey how he feels even to the girl wrapped around him.

She shushes him. “I know.” Is all she says, as they stand there in a momentary comfortable silence before she detaches from him to continue dinner.

____________________________

Zuko had told her to stay behind, that he’d be back to either get her or because he failed to convince the group that he came to support them, instead of harm them.

“Zuko! I could easily be an alibi for you. A reason for them to trust you!”

“No. End of story. They could attack me and you’re in Fire Nation clothes. You’re staying here.”

A staring match between the two only lasted a few seconds, but (Y/N) let it go; remembering Iroh’s advice that sometimes the boy has to do what eases his mind to grow.

The empty pot gleamed an orange glow from the flames, a light in the dark woods that surrounded the two as they lounged by the fire.

(Y/N) was carding her fingers through the upset prince’s hair while he stared at the sky; confused. His emotions spilling onto (Y/N). He didn’t talk much about the encounter, only enough to tell her that they wouldn’t be helping the Avatar defeat his father anytime soon. Rather than pressure him, she offered her solace with calming actions rather than words.

The two had met in their early childhood, (Y/N)’s father being the leader of the Yuyan Archers and of course the Fire Lord wanted the talented girl to meet his… troubled son. In hope that she could help bend his son into the ruthless leader the nations needed to proceed him. Though they didn’t see each other as much as they should have due to (Y/N)’s schooling, the two quickly became close friends and were often found with Lady Ursa quietly running around the palace grounds.

His banishment led to (Y/N) perfecting her skills, and becoming the master she was destined to be, given there was no more distraction. No one could understand her in the way that Zuko did— they fit together like they were made for one another. Where he was hotheaded, she was cool; Where he was nimble and direct, she was resourceful and hidden. The two were the perfect set of opposites who ultimately balanced each other. And one without the other was a heartbreak everyone could see.

When she heard the news of his return, she rushed to the palace; radiant as ever. In an instant, the two fell back into where they left off;  barely any words needed between the two. Her fingers and lips had trailed over his scar often in those few days, brushing away the tears and insecurities that came with it.

Leaving the Fire Nation with Zuko wasn’t even a debate in her mind. She was tired of the life of lies and torment that her nation inflicted upon the world. She had spent the last two years relocating and rebranding people who were targets to the Fire Nation. In total, about one hundred innocent lives were saved from her dangerous missions. Her skill level was better than even her father’s, and she prided herself in her abilities. (Y/N) was truly a professional in her art with the eye of an eagle.

When she caught Zuko writing a letter to her with packed bags on his bed, she instantly went into the shadows and caught up with the boy easily, hiding in the balloon behind the engine for a while until it was too late for him to turn back. It was hot and the most uncomfortable thing she has ever done, but she regrets none of it. She joked with the boy; how did he not question a pile of fabric behind the piece of equipment that holds fire? She let it go after he hugged her close and cried for a while.

“Don’t do that shit again, Zuko.” Her voice was stern, though her voice stern, she held him close. She ghosted her fingers over his tense shoulders; the shoulder that carried such burdens. She pressed her fingers into his shoulders; trying her best to rub the tension from his body. 

“I won’t. Never again. Don’t leave me, I need you.”

A rustle of leaves and broken trees in the forest near the edge of their little camp put the two into defense, instantly gripping her perfectly crafted bow and quiver. Her ears pricked at a slight movement and she aimed her bows in the direction of the noise without even looking. Suddenly, green clothes fill the area as a younger girl makes her way into the clearing. Startled, Zuko sends a wave of fire towards the intruder, burning the girl.

Everything happened fast.

(Y/N)’s left foot—her plant foot—sunk into the ground and twisted inward, releasing a loud crack into the air. The Earth girl was long gone now; Zuko had been screaming at himself when he heard the cry of pain and the sickening noise that left the lips of his girlfriend.

The earth has released its hold on her, but the damage was done. She kneeled, trying to hold back tears but failing as they kept streaming down her face in a pain response. Zuko’s own eyes filled with tears as he ran over to her, helping her sit down and take the tension off of it.

The joint was already beginning to swell, black and blue and purple and yellow starting to show up in swirls around the area. Zuko carefully tried to feel the injury, barely touching the girl in fear of hurting her more. (Y/N) sighed, pushing his fingers away and ignoring his protest. She rotated her foot outward, cringing at the pain, but crying out when she turned it the other way. Zuko cupped his hands around her ankle, hands heated slightly to hopefully alleviate the pain.

“Baby… it’s okay—”

“No, you’re hurt! I knew this would happen!” He cuts her off with a panicked yell. (Y/N) places her hands on the sides of his face, forcing his eyes upon hers with a slight wince of discomfort.

“It’s most definitely, at worst, a fracture. I can still move it outwards without a lot of pain. It’s, like, a week off my foot at most and then another week with a splint and a crutch. I am okay, Zuko.” They stared at each other for a solid minute, saying nothing.

"Promise?" Zuko whispered.

"You think I would lie to you, Zuko?" She says as she wraps her pinky his for good measure

They turn in not too long after, (Y/N)’s ankle wrapped up in some extra clothes for stability. Zuko’s arms hold her to his chest as they slip off into the world of dreams.

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Oh shit. She thought from her perch on top of the cliff edge. The assassin that they have also been trying to find has been blowing up the place, really testing the stability of the edge of the cliff in shakes after shakes like an earthquake. Zuko had told her to stay at camp, but unfortunately for Zuko; (Y/N) was never that good at listening to commands.

She was sitting down, watching the Avatar, his friends, and her boyfriend try to figure out how to win this fight against the combustion bender, feet dangling over the edge. She didn’t want any pressure on her foot from standing on it; settling for the dull throbs of pain coming from the force of gravity alone.

Some third eye. (Y/N) thought to herself as she watched her boyfriend get too close to being blown off the edge of the cliff, wincing. She quickly strung her bow, aiming it at the man. She smirked, a devious smirk, and aimed it in a precise location.

Zuko was still trying to talk the man out of it when suddenly, his eyes went blank and the grossest sound he has ever heard reached his ears. Everyone watched the man, confused as to why he just stopped. It’s not until red trails down his forehead and around his nose in a slow trickle that they look at his eye.

In the middle of the red eye, that at one point seemed indestructible; an arrow sat; a perfect shot — his perfect shot. "Bullseye!" (Y/N) howled, her voice resonating in his ears.

In the midst of Zuko's panic, he failed to recognize the cliff he was standing on becoming increasingly unsturdy; turning he locked eyes with the archer. A ghost of a smile graced her lips, pride radiating off of her. Though he was angry, he couldn't help but share her pride. He locked eyes with his girlfriend who was sitting nonchalantly on the cliff edge above them all, waving nonetheless, when he told her to stay back. It’s then that the earth beneath him rumbles and falls, taking him with it.

“Zuko!” She screams, jumping to her feet; a loud crack coming from her ankle, buckling under the pressure and bringing her to her knees.

With a hobble in her step, (Y/N) climbed down the cliffside. The tears ran down her face at a ferocious pace, making her way over to the cliffside, a loud sob relented from her mouth as she saw Aang helping Zuko up over the edge of the cliff. 

"Spirits, Zuko!" She breathed, limping her way over to him and hugging him tight. "I should kill you, you fucking idiot!" She sobbed, pulling him into her chest. 

Zuko huffed out a laugh, wrapping his arms around her. He took deep breaths, calming his nerves from his near death experience; he focused on the feeling of her hand carding through his hair to grip it tight, and the hold on his shoulders. As he calms down, he remembers that he told her to stay put; and he sharply pulls away.

"I told you to stay at camp!" He huffed, "I told you I was coming back for you!”

She scoffs pushing on his forehead with two fingers. “In case you have forgotten, Zuko, I have authority issues. If I weren’t here, who would be saving your stupid royal ass? No one! You’re welcome, by the way. He wasn’t going to negotiate, Prince Pouty, and you and everyone else here is no good to the world dead.”

“You—You---You could’ve been hurt! (Y/N)! Or worse!” His protest was a whisper, trying to make the scene more private as he’s aware of the crowd around them.

“Zuko, love, I can handle myself. I’m a master at my craft--.”

"—your craft of carelessness, you could've been killed—"

"—but I wasn't Zuko!"

"That's not the point." His voice stern, making it clear that the conversation was done for now. (Y/N) simply nodded, pulling away from him and fixing her clothes.

Aang, Toph, Katara and Sokka watched the two as they argued; watching as they continuously tried to out-care the other. They watched as the two eventually stopped arguing, instead remained staring, as if daring each other to speak

“That was a ... nice shot? I guess?" Aang spoke, clearing his throat and drawing the couples attention to him. "He's definitely you know, dead."

(Y/N) smiles at the boy. “Thank you, Avatar, for helping save this dumb ass from falling off a cliff.” She gets up and bows to him. Zuko suddenly picks her up, the world turning sideways as he put her bridal style in his arms.

“Stop putting weight on your ankle!”

“I’m literally showing respect to the person who just helped you, is that a crime?”

“What if you break your ankle so much that you have to cut it off.”

“Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Okay well you were first when deciding to sit on the edge of a cliff with a broken ankle.”

“You’re right! Sitting is dangerous. Next time, I’ll make sure to stand so at least I’ll have a better chance of reacting if the cliff side starts falling from under me. Oh wait, you were standing, and you still fell.”

Zuko sets her down on a broken rock that’s suitable enough for her to sit on. “Will you just shut up already and let me help you.” He reaches for her ankle, but she moves it from his grasp. Their eyes meet again and narrow in competition.

A mess of limbs as the (Y/N) evades the grip of Zuko, occasionally slapping his hands away if they get too close.

Sokka tilts his head in confusion and opens his mouth. “Is he—is he actually caring for someone?”

Aang nods. “I think? I don’t know, they’re kind of fighting a lot.”

Toph cringes, “Guys, I think it was me who hurt her in the first place. Last night at their camp. Zuko instantly stopped trying to help me when I heard her scream.”

“Guys… I think I’m supposed to let him be my master. I mean, he did just risk everything to save us.” Aang says, eyes locked on the one member who he cares more about than anyone.

Katara, still holding off on agreeing, looks to the two Fire Nation kids again.

“Ow! You bit me! Are you crazy?!” Zuko yells, shaking his left hand out.

The stranger girl laughs cheerfully. “Only crazy for you, stupid.”

And a phenomenon occurs. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation blushes and looks down at the ground, a huge smile on his face.

“I hate you.” Is all he says.

“Yeah, I love you too.”

Katara, seeing the humane side of the prince, finally lets her guard down and walks over to them. Zuko’s eyes widen at her proximity, but the water tribe girl holds his gaze.

“I’ll heal the girl if it gets you two to shut up. And you have to find dinner for tonight.”

Katara’s eyes widen again at the sight of the crying prince who suddenly bows to her feet, thanking her with his whole heart. He then turns to his smiling girl beside him and pulls her into a hug.

“Thank you, (Y/N). For everything.”

“I’ll always help you… stupid.”