#i had a shot after ALMOST making it 24 hours bc i just need to function and not wanna die rn

[suckfaggot]

it's official I'm addicted to alcohol. again.

[bukojuiice]

What happens when the bakusquad babysits Katsuki’s daughter? (Dad! Katsuki Bakugo x Mom! Reader) Headcanons + One-shot

ೃ pairing: (dad! katsuki bakugo x mom! reader)

ೃ  warnings: none

ೃ genre: fluff overload, parent fic/hcs

ೃ word count: 5,141 words

ೃ 1/4 of @bukojuiice’s 800 followers special!

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ   A  sequel in the form of headcanons + one-shot to my dad! Bakugo fic “like the soul of honey” I recommend reading that first before going through this! Don’t worry if you don’t want to though! Both are standalone and not really connected with each other. 

ೃ   This was originally just going to be headcanons, but I didn’t want to keep writing it in hcs style halfway through so be treated to both headcanons + a one-shot instead! as you can tell already, this was so so much fun to write and i felt so soft after writing this uwu

ೃ  shoutout to two of my loves @sparkykatsuki for coming up with this idea!  I just knew i had to do it bc i love bakusquad sm!! they give me such a serotonin boost and I find it really fun writing about them!! Thank you for having such big brain energy and for conspiring this concept franz!  And to @chibishae34​ bc i know she loves baby fics as much as I do HSHSHSH

ೃ   your daughter’s name is hikari which means light. bakugo thought of that name because light is essentially a part of his quirk and hikari is a part of him.

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!) ♡

—  Hikari is blessed with the best uncles and aunts she could ever ask for!!

—  Both Bakusquad and Dekusquad take turns in helping you and Katsuki get your well deserved rest and relaxation at least once a month ever since Hikari turned 6 as... she became quite the feisty girl. Too feisty to handle actually.

—  She was energetic and playful 24/7. And so, it was hard to keep up with her energy most of the time.

—  She still remained kind and obedient yet she was also an absolute bundle of joy who would just run around the house, play with her toys, and go on roleplaying adventures with you and Katsuki. She had absolutely no idea how much she would tire you and Katsuki, however, and sometimes she would go on for hours and hours just running around the house and interacting with everything she sees.

—  She had an inquisitive mind, and although you always encourage her to be smart and be intrigued with everything, she tends to question almost everything she lays her eyes on and you end up having to come up with a witty and a very childlike answer for her to understand.

—  A good example of this is when she asked you ever so innocently about where babies come from and your husband was ABOUT TO TAKE HER QUESTION LITERALLY and give her the science talk about sexual reproduction. When the two of you agreed to only give her that talk when she turns 8 as she might not even entirely understand it in the first place.

—  “Mommy, Daddy, where do babies come from?”

—  “I guess it’s time for the talk.” Bakugo shrugs, remarking sternly. He takes his daughter’s little hand in his and bringing her to the living room. “You see, Hikari, babies come from the wo-”

—  “Storks!” You cut Bakugo off before he could say another word, nudging him on the elbow. “Hikari-chan, the babies are brought down to this world by the white and strong birds in the sky!” You whisper the last bits of information to her ear. “The storks told me that once you get older, they’ll tell you the secret of where they actually pick up the babies.”

—  “Really!?” She says in disbelief, her eyes gleaming in excitement. “YAY! YAY! YAY! I can’t wait!” She goes back to running around the house looking for even more things to ask about and you breathe a sigh of relief as soon as she leaves.

—  Although it was nice that you are able to bond as a family, it does get pretty tiring sometimes. Of course your weariness is worth the risk if it’s just to see Hikari smile.

— Especially since you and Bakugo were both pro-heroes (although you mostly do stand by pro hero work meaning you work from home almost all the time.) You found it much more enriching if both you and bakugo are guiding her and working together to create a loving and supportive family for Hikari.

— Both of your respective friend groups, whomst you remained close to ever since high school, noticed how the both of you looked tremendously exhausted and looked like you were in dire need to have 9 cups of coffee every time you would meet up with each other in between your pro hero duties.

—  And so both squads came into an agreement, that they would help the two of you out by giving you a 48 hour day off every month to do whatever the heck married couples do as they would babysit Hikari and have fun.

—  This was also a great way to get closer with their niece even if they dote on her so much already.  As you and Bakugo are the first persons in your friend groups who got married and have a child together.

—  This month, the Bakusquad is in charge of taking care of Hikari and just from the fact that Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina and Sero are going to babysit your daughter alone, you know it’s going to be chaotic.

—  Things didn’t go swimmingly last time (literally), as only Kirisihima and Kaminari were the only ones available the last time they came to babysit. They took Hikari to a community pool, and she came back with a missing tooth and some scratches on her legs from playing too much. Katsuki was NOT pleased and you had to restrain your husband from trying to obliterate his best friends even if Hikari had little to no injuries and it was normal for kids her age to have these things happens to them at least once in their childhood.

—  With your assurance and the look that was on Hikari’s face and how she would not shut up about how she loved spending time with Uncle Eijiro and Uncle Denki, Katsuki eventually let it slide and just gave his friends the usual “Katsuki Bakugo treatment” where he acts cold and angry at them, paired with his easily irritated and idgaf attitude.

—  This month however, was going to be different because Mina and Sero are finally joining along and making sure that Hikari has the best weekend since they weren’t able to babysit last time.

—  Hikari loved her Aunt Mina because she would braid her hair and style her with different cute outfits that only Mina, with her love for fashion and all things girly and pink could attempt to do and end up doing perfectly. She also taught Hikari all the dances to disney songs and nursery rhymes she knows how to do so far. Hikari affectionately refers to her Aunt Pinkie whenever Mina isn’t around.

—  Kirishima, who was the most frequent to visit the 3 of you, out of all of the Bakusquad, considers Hikari as his new #1 best friend. Dethroning and kicking her very own father from that spot. Hikari is a much more gentle and sweet version of her explosive father, and so Eijiro is able to interact and play with Hikari because he already knows Bakugo and his mannerisms very well. Hikari calls him Uncle Sharkie and she always asks her dad about how he and Kirishima became such good friends. To which Katsuki would reply with, “It’s a long story princess.”

—  Kaminari was the fun uncle. He always gave off those vibes ever since high school anyway. Giving Hikari candy behind Katsuki’s back (although you made sure Kaminari didn’t give her any that were tooth rotting sweet ones) Buying her ice cream whenever he came to drop by, and bringing her to the nearby playground amongst many other things. He spoils her a lot (in a good way) and Hikari calls her the fun “sparkie” uncle.

— Then, there was Sero. He retained his love for Spiderman since he was a kid, and he was able to pass that on to Hikari. His way of playing with her was cute since Sero is super tall, he would let Hikari ride on his shoulders, trying to imitate airplane noises as they would “fly” around the house. He gifted Hikari some child-friendly comic books for you and Katsuki to read to her before. bed. Although she never fails to say that the best heroes are her mommy and daddy. She calls Sero her Uncle Spidey.  

—  Uncle Sharkie, Uncle Sparkie, Aunt Pinkie, and Uncle Spidey. The Holy Quaternity.

(One-shot starts below this!)

“AUNT MINA! UNCLE EIJIRO! UNCLE DENKI! UNCLE SEROOO!” Hikari rushes to the door as soon as she hears the doorbell ring, she jumps into Eijiro’s arms and the red-haired pro hero twirls her around. The rest of the Bakusquad forms a circle around her, and can’t help but look at her adoringly.

“How’s my little ball of sunshine!?” Mina squeezes Hikari’s cheekies, earning giggles from the little girl. “I’m fine Aunt Mina! I mished chu!” She begins to talk in a cute accent as she just can’t contain her excitement.

“Hikari-chan! Do you still remember our little handshake?” Sero kneels down to the little girl’s height, offering her his hand. The little girl nods, shakes it and their thumbs twiddle together, as if they were thumb wrestling. They do a few more quirky hand shakes and then end it with a bang by saying “BOOM!” Sparks suddenly fly out from Hikari’s hands, her aunt and uncles coo since noticing how much her quirk has developed ever since they started babysitting.

“Okay you two!” Mina turns to you and Katsuki, as she had noticed you had some distinct luggage packed for a quick hot spring getaway, she practically pushes the two of you out of the door when Katsuki stops in his tracks, turning to his friends.

He glares at them and points his fingers to his eyes in a “I’m watching you” type of gesture. “Not one single scratch on her or all of you are dead to me.”

Kaminari laughs, patting his friend on the back, “We gotchu buddy. Your little ball of sunshine is safe in our hands. She’ll have the best time with us!”

Hikari quickly runs to you and Katsuki, giving you both a tight hug. “We love you Hikari. We’ll just be gone for two days oki? Your uncles and your aunt here will keep you safe this weekend alright? We love you!” You peck her lightly on the cheek, a pout forming on your daughter’s face.

“I’ll miss you Mommy. Daddy.” She doesn’t let go, hugging the two of you even tighter. “I loaf you! See you soon!”

“Be a good girl okay Hikari?” Katsuki kneels down to meet his daughter’s eyes, orbs that were as passionate as his, planting a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll miss you kiddo.”

You could hear Kaminari and Sero silently snicker in the background since they still can’t wrap their head around the fact that their friend could become so soft when in front of his child as opposed to his usual rough demeanor he shows to everyone else.

Katsuki wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly, with you dragging along the luggage that the two of you were going to bring on this trip. You bid your final goodbyes with ease and relief, knowing that your daughter will be in “safe hands” the entire weekend.

“We’re going to have so much fun!” Mina squeezes Hikari and the rest of the  Bakusquad into a hug. “What do you want to do first Hikari-chan?”

“Oh! Um! I don’t know if I should ask this b-but..” The blonde little girl hides her hands in her pockets, her feet tapping the floor. “I actually want to know how Mommy and Daddy met! Not the marry or the lovey thing! Just how they met and fell in love!”

“Hikari-chan!! You’re so cuteeeeeeee!” Kaminari begins to weep crocodile tears, pulling Hikari into another hug. “If that’s what you want to do for today, then we’ll gladly tell the story of how your mom and dad met!”

The Bakusquad formed and sat in a circle on the floor. Hikari was sitting on Mina’s lap as the latter braided her hair into what was called a Fishtail braid. Kirishima, with the help of Sato, baked some chocolate chip cookies a few days ago for all of them to snack on while they babysit Hikari.

Sero clears his voice and begins the story. “Your mom and your dad met each other in High School. Along with all of us and your Uncle Izuku, Uncle Tenya, Uncle Shoto, Aunt Ochaco, Aunt Tsuyu-” He continues to recall the names of all the other people Hikari know and love. “They were total opposites actually.”

“O-opposithes?” Hikari tilts her head, a puzzled look on her face as she tries to process what her Uncle Sero had just said. “D-does that mean that Daddy didn’t like Mommy?”

“It’s not like that Hikari-chan. Don’t worry.” Kirishima saves Sero from making the little girl misinterpret what he had just said, nudging his raven-haired friend in the arm. “It’s just that your dad was hot-headed and angry all the time, but he fell in love with your mom because she was sweet, patient and understanding!” Kirishima reiterates, a soft look on his face, looking back on the sweet sentimental memories of high school. “They were perfect for each other!”

“Oh! So daddy was angy all the time? Since mommy is really nice she told Daddy to be nice and they fell in love!?”

Mina giggles, continuing to style Hikari’s hair. “Yes Hikari-chan. That’s exactly what happened! You’re so good!”

“I am!?” Yay!” She claps her hands together, a wide smile present on her face, she was becoming more and more intrigued. “Tell me more please!”

“Well...” Kaminari continued where Kirishima had left off, “Your mom and dad got closer because they got teamed up to fight our pro hero teacher for our exam! They fought and they had a hard time talking to each other but they passed the exam in the end! It was hard at first. Your dad kept on telling us that he didn’t like your mom in a lovey way but we kept on pushing him until he accidentally said that he liked her! Your mommy heard what he said and then she told him that she liked him too!”

“F-fight? I thought Daddy only fights bad guys...” Her voice begins to crack as if she was about to cry. The Bakusquad were about to speak up and explain but failed to because as soon as Mina was done braiding her hair, Hikari immediately stands up and bows politely to the four adults. “I’m going to play with Mr. Rilakkuma for a while. See you later!” She grabs a cookie from the plate and rushes into her room, locking the door behind her.

“See you later Hikari-chan!” Kaminari waves cluelessly, not realizing what he had just said that prompted Hikari to leave the room in the first place. Mina stands up on her knees, shooting him a glare and flicking his forehead, “Did you not realize what you just did!?”

“Ahh what did I do!?” He rubs the spot on his forehead that Mina had just hit, and looks at his two other friends for a clue as to why they were ganging up with him.

“I guess Chargedolt will always be Chargedolt.” Sero shrugs, shaking his head in disappointment.. “Hikari misinterpreted what you said. She thinks that Bakubro used to fight (Y/N) like she’s a villain or something back when we were in High School.”

“WAIT! OBJECTION! SHE MISINTERPRETED YOUR STORY FIRST-”

“Guys. Guys. There’s nothing we can do about it. Both of you slipped, so let’s give Hikari-chan some space first then talk to her later.” Kirishima cuts Kaminari off before he and Sero would start an argument,  which would prompt Hikari to further think more negative thoughts.

“(Y/N) said that Hikari-chan’s been liking Tonkotsu Ramen recently, so I think it’s best if all of us help out in cooking her favorite comfort food to cheer her up.” Mina sighs deeply, crossing her arms. She heads straight to the kitchen without uttering another word, the three other guys follow suit.

After several hours, it was finally night time and time for dinner! At the orders of Mina, Sero and Kaminari came to pick up Hikari from her room.

Sero knocked softly. “Hikari-chan? It’s time for dinner!”

“We cooked your favoriteee Tonkatsu Ramen!” Kaminari added in a playful voice.

No reply.

“Hikari-chan?” Sero knocks again, a bit louder this time. He then turns to Denki and whispers, “Maybe she’s asleep?”

Before the two men were to retreat and go back to the living room, the door to the little girl’s room was unlocked with a long click, as if there was hesitance..

Denki quickly turns the knob to be surprised at the sight of Hikari... packing her clothes into a cute backpack?

“Hikari-chan! W-what are you doing?” Kaminari runs to her, trying to stop her from folding her clothes.

“I’m going to go see Mommy and Daddy! I’ll go take a bus and find them!” She wipes the tears streaking down her cheeks, sniffing her nose while attempting to stuff her teddy bear inside her backpack. “Daddy took Mommy so that they’re going to fight aren’t they!? I don’t want that!”

“No no no no no Hikari. It’s not like that!” Kaminari wipes the little girl’s tears with a handkerchief, he gestures Sero to call Kirishima and Mina whilst he tries to comfort the girl. “Your dad took your mom out because today is their lovey anniversary! It wasn’t because they were going to fight!”

“Ah! Owkay!” Hikari suddenly raises her head, taking the handkerchief from Denki and wiping her tears.  “Can I visit Daddy and Mommy then!?”

“O-oh well...”

“Of course we can go Hikari-chan!” Kirishima barges in, Sero and Mina close behind him. “Let’s surprise them!”

“Yay! Surprising them! I love surprises!” The little girl jumps up and down in her place. “What time do we go!? What time do we goooo!?”

“After dinner you little cutie.” Mina smiles at the younger Bakugo’s sudden shift in mood. “We cooked your favorite Tonkotsu Ramen!”

“AH! TONKOTSU RAMEN TONKOTSU RAMEN!” Hikari wiggles her arms, slightly pushing the adults out of the way and runs out of her room, Sero catches up to her, only to find her sitting properly on the dining table. “I’m ready to eat now! Just waiting for all of you!” She shouts from outside.

“She’s absolutely fricking adorable.” Kaminari remarks. “But Kiri.. are you serious? We’re actually going all the way to a prefecture and bring her to her parents? Isn’t our job supposed to be keeping her here while they rest and relax in the onsen?”

“W-well... It’s not like we can do anything about it right?” Eijiro shrugs off Denki’s concern, holding on to a stress ball that Hikari had in her room. “She’ll be moping around and going back to overthinking about what her parents are doing right now. We’ll take her there and besides, once we do get there, (Y/N) and Bakugo already had a day’s worth of rest. And I think it’s time for us to take Hikari on a road trip and have fun with her!”

“Uncle Eijiro.. Aunt Mina... Uncle Denki... what’s taking you so long?” Hikari yawns and rubs her eyes, still holding on to her chopsticks. “The ramen is going to get cold...”

“Oh no! It is!?” Mina reacts quickly, taking Hikari’s hand and leading her to the table. “Let’s get there before Elsa makes it even colder!”

“NOOOOOO!! Elsa’s going to do that!? Whyyyyyy!?”

“Let’s just hope that this isn’t a repeat of what happened when we took her to the community pool.” Kaminari shakes his head, recalling the past event. “Bakugo almost killed us if it weren’t for (Y/N).”

“I don’t think it will. Besides, Sero and Mina will be with us, so the more the merrier!”

Oh and the merrier it was.

“HAKUNA MATATA! WHAT A WONDERFUL PHRASE!” Bakusquad along with Hikari, sing in unison. Bopping along to the iconic song from Lion King.

“IT MEANS NO WORRIES! FOR THE REST OF YOUR DAYS!” Hikari belts out, the others clapping along to her singing, doing their best to hype her up

Kirishima was singing Timone’s lines, Kaminari was singing Pumba’s, Sero and Mina were the background vocals and and Hikari was singing Simba’s lines.

It was 6 am in the morning and they were finally on the road and on the way to a Hot Springs Resort in Chiba Prefecture, where you and Bakugo were staying in for the weekend.

Kirishima was driving the SUV that he immediately bought when he got his first Pro Hero paycheck, Denki was riding shotgun, and Hikari was seated at the middle squeezed in by both Mina and Sero.

Disney Songs were set to be played for the entire morning to tire out Hikari and so that she can sleep peacefully and rid Bakusquad of the slight annoyance they will receive when she asks “Are we there yet?” every 2 minutes.

Denki had unfortunately messed up the spotify playlist that Jiro had given him, and the piano opening of A Thousand Miles begins to play.

“OMG IT’S OUR SQUAD SONG!” Mina’s eyes lit up as soon as the well-known piano keys blared out from the speakers. “MAKING MY WAY DOWNTOWN, WALKING FAST, FACES PASS AND I’M HOMEBOUND!”

The iconic part before the chorus begins to play and the boys sing along, “AND I NEED YOU! AND I MISS YOUUU!” They shake their shoulders to the beat, and Hikari giggles along.

“CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I CAN JUST SEE YOU TONIGHTTTTT.” Bakusquad sings dramatically in unison, raising their hands up high and just vibing to the beat.

“Hikari-chan! You should totally hear your dad sing this! He loves this song!” Mina turns to the little girl who continued to laugh at how chaotic her aunt and uncles were being. “Really!? I want to learn it then so that Mommy and Daddy would know that I can be a singer too!”

The song ends and yet everyone else was still vibing. After the current song, the hype and the energy has died down and Hikari is fast asleep on Mina’s lap and her feet were lying on a pillow that was placed on Sero’s lap.

“She really is a spitting image of both (Y/N) and Bakugo. They’re really great parents.” said Sero, who wanted to break the silence and keep the atmosphere lively.

“My mind is still shook over the fact that Bakubro would turn so soft every time he’s in the same room as his daughter. It’s a complete 180 on his personality, and I really wanna tease him about it when we finally get the chance.” Kaminari interjects. “Do you think Bakugo would get mad when we arrive there?”

“Trust me on this guys.” Kirishima says casually, stepping on the gas pedal, as they go up the highway. “Bakugo won’t. In fact, I think both he and (Y/N) would be delighted to see their daughter travel for 180 miles just because of a misunderstanding.”

♡

“Suki-kun... do you think I should call up Mina to ask how Hikari’s doing?” You reach for your phone on the bedside table. “It’s 6 AM maybe Hikari forgot to drink her gummmy vitamins-”

“She’s going to be fine.” Katsuki murmurs in his bedhead voice, turning to your side of the bed to spoon you and nestle his head on your neck. “I trust Kirishima and the others.”

“This is surprising. You’re very casual about this now. What happened to your skepticism? Weren’t you too worried about how they were going to babysit Hikari after the pool incident?”

“To hell with that. If Hikari loves them, and they love her back just as much, might as well just roll with it. They’re my friends anyway and it’s better than Ilda scolding her for eating 4 M&Ms at 9 in the evening.”

You chuckle, holding his hands that were wrapped around your waist. “That’s harsh but you got a point. Although Hikari loves my friends and yours equally, they do think of Hikari as a little Bakugo so, they’re able to connect with her more.”

“What time do the private mixed gender hot springs open up again?” He grumbles suggestively and you giggle. “They open at 9 am. Should I reserve that time slot?”

“You should.” He growls but before you could even reply, he falls back to sleep.

♡

“WE’RE HERE!” Kirishima announces, waking Kaminari, Mina and Sero up from their sleep.

“W-what if this isn’t the right onsen?” Denki yawns, looking around to take in the view.

“I asked (Y/N) last night where they were staying. This is the place! She even gave me their room number for some reason.” Mina stretches her arms then pats Hikari on the forehead lightly. “Hikari we’re here...”

The little girl slowly opens her eyes, sitting up, then looks out the window.

“HOT SPRINGS! ONSEN!” She hastily tidies up her backpack and gets down the car as soon as Sero opens the door.

“Hikari-chan! Wait for us first!” Sero runs after her, making sure she doesn’t get too far.

“It’s 9 AM... I wonder if those two lovebirds are awake already.” Kaminari looks at the watch on his wrist, as he brings down their stuff from the trunk of the car.

“I looked this place up last night. It’s a family friendly hot springs resort, but it’s famed for it’s private mixed gender onsen. I wonder why though...” Mina mused, helping Denki out with bringing their stuff down.

Kirishima gets out of the car and bobs his head up as soon as he heard what Mina had said. He looks at Kaminari trying to tell him something through his stare. The mustard-haired man’s eyes widened when he realized why Kirishima was looking at him, then he turns to Mina who finally realizes what the mixed gender onsen meant.

“Oh.”

They enter the beautiful and lush resort, spotting Sero and Hikari who were sitting near the reception area, waiting for their reservation and for the rooms to be confirmed.

“Can’t believe we had to pay double the price for a standard room.” Kaminari pouts, whispering to Kirishima as the red-haired man hands him over the credit cards of each of his friends and then he hands it over to the concierge. He notices how excited Hikari looked and couldn’t help but smile.

As soon as the reservation was confirmed, Bakusquad and Hikari were able to check in immediately. Mina takes Hikari to her room while the three other boys were sharing their room with each other.

“Hikari before you can surprise your parents, you have to wear this Yukata first okay?” Mina helps fasten the bath robe on Hikari, but the little girl can’t help but be energetic and start dancing in her place. “Have you memorized the A Thousand Miles chorus already to sing to your mommy and daddy?”

“I have!”

Mina takes Hikari outside, the other boys were already out too and were wearing their bath robes.

“I saw (Y/N) enter this onsen. Maybe that’s where she and Bakugo are in? Should we take Hikari there?” Kaminari asks his three other friends, sipping on a fruit-flavored ramune, and handing one to Hikari.

“Yes please! I want to see Mommy and Daddy as soon as possible and then surprise them!” She sips on her ramune, looking at her aunt and uncles pleadingly, begging them to bring her there.

♡

“I could have sworn I heard Kaminari-kun’s voice outside.” You tell Katsuki, closing the screen door to the open air bath. You were holding a plate full of sliced Watermelon. Your robe was still on and you wanted to eat something first before getting in.

“Tch. Probably just your imagination.” Bakugo breathes a sigh of relief, slipping in further in the hot water. “I could get used to something like this every month.”

“Oh really?” You raise your eyebrow, and lick your lips. “Could you get used to-”

“If I could fall into the sky, do you think time would pass us ByYYY?”

You jolt up at the sweet and all too familiar voice that was echoing from the outside. Before you could even react properly, someone knocks on the door to reveal...

“Mommy! Daddy!”

“Hikari!?”

She jumps to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “I missed you so much! I thought you and Daddy were fighting that’s why you left!”

“Fighting!?” You look back and forth to Bakusquad then to your daughter. “Of course not! Why would we-”

“Uncle Sewo and Uncle Denki told me that you guys would always fight when you were in school! That’s why I thought that-”

“They did... what?” Bakugo’s tone becomes slightly irritated at the mention of Kaminari and Hanta’s name. The Bakusquad were about to face death and the consequences until...

“Oh! But! They also taught me a song today! It’s called A Thousand Miles! They said it was Daddy’s favorite!” She then turns to her father with such admiration in her eyes as she begins to sing the chorus. “Cause you know I’d walk a thousand miles just to see youuu~”

“Nice one sunshine. Did you learn that for me?” He gestures Hikari to approach him, ruffling her hair as she kneels down to peck him on the cheek. “I did!”

“It’s your favorite song! So, I also traveled a thousand miles to see you and Mommy!”

“Not necessarily a thousand miles, dear. But you’re close enough! You still traveled to see us! Yay!” You clap at the genius remark your daughter had made. You turn to the Bakusquad, nodding your head at them and smile. “Thank you for taking care of Hikari and bringing her here just because she wanted to. We’ll see you later at lunch?”

“Of course! Of course!” Mina waves goodbye, a tired but loving smile formed on her face. “We had a fun time with Hikari and we just couldn’t help but bring her here. But, you have Kiri to thank for all of this though!”

“No, I shouldn’t get all of the credit. This is a Bakusquad group effort, if Kaminari and Sero didn’t slip and if Hikari didn’t misunderstand their words, then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.” Kirishima cuts Mina off in a respectful way. He claps his hands together and pulls your other friends out of the room. “See ya guys later!”

“Thanks guys.” Bakugo nods generously to his friends. It was something he didn’t always do, but when he does, well, it’s worth seeing.

“Bye Uncle Sharkie, Aunt Pinkie, Uncle Sparkie and Uncle Spidey!” Hikari waves goodbye jovially, not realizing that she just called them the affectionate nicknames that she’s too embarrassed to say in front of them.

The four laugh at the little girl’s slip-up and they leave the hot springs in good spirits.

After that wonderful weekend, you explained to Hikari about why you’re taking a rest every month in the first place. She didn’t quite get the concept at first but after a little bit more of explaining, she came up with the idea that the two of you get four rest days in a month. One weekend just for you and Katsuki then the other weekend is for the three of you and if any of the Bakusquad or Dekusquad would want to come along.

It was the perfect agreement and if Hikari was going to grow up in an environment where she had the best aunts and uncles in the universe, then she’s going to grow up to be a great kid. Just like the adults in her life once were.

The End.

[unbridgeabledistances]

a ✨drunk and clingy ian✨ one-shot

okay so we all know that saint patrick’s day is a very arbitrary and somewhat meaningless holiday (at least in the u.s. lol)- but we also know that the gallaghers are incredibly fucking irish, so i am using this as an excuse to write some drunk and clingy gallavich fluff (bc i think we all need it!! or at least i do!!!!)

hope y’all enjoy<3

--

Mickey and Ian came in the door from their final weed security run of a way-too-chilly and grey March afternoon, kicking the slush off of their lace-up boots in a tired but comfortable silence. Mickey had been fantasizing for a good part of the afternoon about his usual afternoon ritual of collapsing onto the couch with a cold beer in his hand, and taking a long lazy nap while shitty game shows played on the TV in the background— but unfortunately, Debbie had other plans. Or so he realized when he turned the corner and his eyes were met with a forest of green and white streamers blanketing the living room, with Debbie determinedly balancing on a kitchen chair to hang them in the doorway.

Mickey did a double-take, shooting a glance at Ian and then back at the festive room again. What the fuck? He quickly racked his brain— there was no way he’d could’ve forgotten Franny’s birthday, that was in the summer—and he was pretty sure that Liam’s birthday was in the winter sometime; so whose the fuck was it? Too many goddamn Gallaghers to keep track of. Finally, Mickey admitted his own defeat.

“Is it someone’s fuckin’ birthday or something?”

Mickey flashed another gaze to Ian in confusion as he said it, hoping that Ian would silently mouth whatever the occasion was to him, or at the very least raise his eyebrows and goad Mickey enough to jog his memory to remember whatever the fuck today was— but Ian just gave an easygoing grin as he took in the room’s decor and let out a laugh.

“Debbie, isn’t this kind of going overboard?”

Debbie looked over her shoulder from where she was now taping a crudely scribbled picture of a shamrock, most likely drawn by Franny, up onto the wall.

“What? If it’s our last Saint Patrick’s Day in the house, the least we can do is go out with a bang,” she answered nonchalantly, and continued fixating on hanging up Franny’s drawing.

Mickey inadvertently let out a scoff and rolled his eyes. Fucking Gallaghers.

“I’m sorry, fucking Saint Patrick’s Day?”

Ian’s lips formed a playful smile and he elbowed Mickey between the ribs. “Yeah, Mick, Saint Patrick’s Day— also known as the unironically most important day of the Gallagher family calendar year. I can’t believe I forgot it was today, with all the work stuff we had going on.”

At first Mickey couldn’t tell if Ian was actually being serious— but in the same second he decided that it didn’t really matter, since Ian’s eyes were bright and shining and there was this weird giddy grin he was sporting from ear to ear, like he was absolutely fucking delighted that it was Saint Patrick’s Day, instead of just a normal goddamn Wednesday. Fucking softie.

And as endearing as that was, Mickey still couldn’t let him off that easily. “There’s no way I’m celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day. It’s a fake holiday for yuppie rich kids to go bar hopping—I’m not getting involved in any of your Gallagher bullshit.”

Ian’s grin just grew, like he knew exactly what Mickey was doing. “Hey, you married into this family. If anything, this is your own fault.”

Mickey just rolled his eyes, then continued to unlace his boots and throw them by the doorway.

“The fuck do you do anyways, aside from getting trashed?”

Ian put a hand on Mickey’s upper back to steady himself as he pulled his own shoes off. “I think getting trashed pretty much sums up the festivities. Today’s practically a holy day of observance for Frank, and I’m assuming Debbie’s also just gonna use today as an excuse to get drunk on a Wednesday.”

“Hell yeah I am!” Debbie called from where she was putting the chair back in the kitchen.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “I knew Gallaghers were white trash, but I had no idea you were this bad.”

“Oh, come on. You don’t have any Ukranian white trash holidays or whatever?”

Mickey held back a bitter laugh. Yeah, they had “holidays,” in the form of days when Terry was celebratorily drunk enough to leave them the fuck alone for 24 hours, rare occasions when his looming shadow was out of the house and a festive lightness bled in in its place. They sort of celebrated Christmas, which was mostly just associated with too many painful memories of Terry ripping open the presents before he or his brothers had the chance, and too many painful stings associated with him having one too many drinks as they sat quietly inside the sagging house and pretended to be a big happy family for one night a year.

But never anything as gaudy and deliberate and ridiculous as observing a C-list, Irish-American holiday just for the hell of it, just for fun—which yes, was probably fueled by Frank’s alcoholism more than anything else, but also made something swell in Mickey’s insides that he didn’t quite know how to place.

And Mickey didn’t know how to let out that entire internal monologue to Ian while Debbie was standing within earshot. “Nah, man. Milkoviches don’t really do… holidays.”

Ian snaked a hand around Mickey’s back, giving his shoulder a squeeze, a grounding touch. He gets it.

“Well, get ready to have your mind blown, Mr. Gallavich, because we’re about to celebrate this hallowed occasion Gallagher style.”

Mickey rolled his eyes again, but let himself lean into Ian’s touch, lean his weight ever-so-slightly against Ian’s chest that was pressed behind him by the doorway. And, okay— as stupid as this was, maybe there was something sort of warm and solid about tradition, about hand-scribbled shamrocks and streamers on the wall, about having days to celebrate just because you wanted to, just because you could…

Just then Franny came hurdling into the room, wearing a baggy green t-shirt and a face-painted shamrock adorning her cheek.

Ian’s face lit up when she stopped in front of them. “Hey Franny! Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!”

Franny held out two bottles of beer to Ian and Mickey from where she had been hiding them behind her back.

“Mommy said I should give these to you when you came home!”

Mickey smirked, carefully taking the bottles from Franny’s outstretched hands. “Thanks, kiddo.”

And if all celebrating Saint Patrick’s Day took was knocking down a few beers on a weekday afternoon—well, Mickey wasn’t going to complain about that.

**

Of course, hours later Mickey realized how severely he’d underestimated Debbie’s enthusiasm— after lounging around the house waiting for the stream of Gallaghers to trickle in from their various daily activities, Debbie had rounded everyone up and they migrated to the Alibi as the sun was setting, where they’d met up with Kev and V and Lip and Tami, who (thank fucking god) looked as vaguely confused and fully apathetic about this whole “Saint Patrick’s Day” situation as Mickey did.

Now it was late, and Mickey was leaning against the bartop of the Alibi sipping a thick, foamy glass of Guinness, which was as close to embracing whatever-the-fuck Irish heritage his husband had as he was possibly going to get.

All of the Gallaghers were here, swirling around the room—Debbie had put on some sort of peppy music as Kev poured everyone drinks, and a couple of other Southside neighbors had heard the bass thrumming and joined the ruckus. The room wasn’t too crowded, but it was pleasantly full of bodies and chatter— Kev had bought bunches of shiny, tacky green mardi gras beads for everyone to wear, and the air in the room was festive and bordering on sloppy in a way that felt very different from how Mickey had envisioned this evening would go.

Mickey was pacing himself, because it was a Wednesday for fuck’s sake— but his husband was an entirely different story. Between the beers at home and the various drinks Debbie had been siphoning into his hands all night, Ian was teetering on the drunkest Mickey had seen him in years—which partially made the tiniest spark of trepidation start to creep into Mickey’s bloodstream, a spark that he immediately extinguished. It was one night, the first in a long time— Ian deserved to have some fun.

And he definitely, definitely was having fun— casually dancing with Debbie and Sandy and whoever else would humor him, grinning with red-hot cheeks and bright eyes— from across the room Mickey could tell how warm his skin would be if he pressed a hand against it, how flushed. Mickey wasn’t really in the mood for dancing, or whatever the fuck stumbling around and chatting and making friends Drunk Ian was up to for the evening, and he was perfectly content to nurse his drink at the bar— which is why it surprised him when Ian pulled himself out of the crowd, slightly stumbling over his own feet, and made the way across the room to where Mickey was leaning at the bar, immediately boxing him in and putting his hands square on Mickey’s waist. Mickey almost imperceptibly let in a sharp breath.

Ian looked down at him, all smiles and shiny eyes— when he spoke the scent of sweet, hot liquor danced on Mickey’s face and all he wanted was to be closer, to breathe it in.

“Are you having fun?” Ian’s right hand traced up Mickey’s side, then back down to its hold on his hipbone.

Mickey raised his eyebrows. “You and your leprechaun family don’t mess around, Gallagher.”

Ian smiled a lazy, tipsy smile, and pecked Mickey’s cheek before Mickey could be embarrassed about it.

“D’you wanna dance with me?”

Ian’s hands slid off of his hips and entangled with Mickey’s hands that had been hanging limply at his sides, walking backwards so their fingers were laced together an arm’s distance apart.

Mickey shrugged noncommittally. “I’ll leave showing the Irish pride to you and the rest of the drunken Gallaghers.”

Ian registered Mickey’s words and opened his mouth to reply, just as Debbie pulled Ian over by the arm.

“Stop sulking with Mickey and do more shots with me!”

Jesus Christ. Ian was going to be wrecked when their alarm went off for work in the morning, and Mickey was starting to debate if he was going to need to have a talking-to with Debbie about the appropriate amount of “Saint Patrick’s Day fun” they were allowed to partake in next year— but for now Ian was happy, and he could stomach one night of hardcore festivities.

Mickey stood at the bar for a while, watching Ian and Debbie get progressively more flushed as they bobbed through the crowd— and then, when Debbie had found some other victim in their mid-twenties to get even more shitfaced with, Ian made his way across the room to Mickey again, plopping onto the barstool beside him and heaving his bodyweight onto Mickey’s left side, burying his face in the crook of Mickey’s neck. Mickey wrapped a tentative arm around Ian’s waist, trying to hold him up from slouching off of the barstool.

“M’tired.” Mickey could feel Ian’s hot breath dancing on his collarbone as he slurred out the words, and felt Ian’s eyelids flutter shut against the side of his neck.

Ian was always giving Mickey measured casual touches, wherever they were—but it was so exceedingly rare that Ian fully let himself go like this, let himself be drunk and happy and just crumple into Mickey, without worrying about holding anyone else up. It felt new, but it felt good— Mickey let the solid weight of his husband’s body leaning against his press him down, rooting him into the Alibi’s sticky floors, feeling the clammy skin of Ian’s forehead that was solidly lodged into the side of Mickey’s neck.

He hated to admit it, but in that moment, something in Mickey was also frozen solid— as much as Mickey had grown in the past few years, something about these situations, about PDA or whatever, still made Mickey feel like he was treading water—like he was fighting to stay afloat while everyone’s eyes were on him, and the strong current was only lifted when he and Ian were in the dark safety of their bedroom. If Mickey was drunk at a bar and sloppily leaning onto Ian, there was no doubt in Mickey’s mind that Ian would hold him, would gingerly touch him and caress him and do more to him than just prop him up— but something in Mickey still hesitated and flashed with warning signs in a crowded room full of people.

But Ian was still breathing hot on Mickey’s neck— so Mickey thought about what Ian would do, if it was Mickey who was tipsy and slumped on his shoulder. He tentatively raised his arm from where it was lying limply by his side, and started to run soothing circles onto Ian’s t-shirt, just above his hipbone where Mickey’s hand was holding Ian up by his waist.

Ian hummed in acknowledgement of the touch— and then he pressed a tender kiss to the crook of Mickey’s neck, where his face was buried. Fuck. Mickey just pulled him in closer, gently tugging Ian’s torso in by his belt loop to hold him steady.

Ian hummed again, then started to press kisses up and down Mickey’s neck. “You smell good.”

Mickey’s heart started to beat a little quicker, his blood running hotter than usual—and Ian couldn’t fucking do this now, while the rest of his family was milling around and dancing and wearing fucking mardi gras beads while flaunting their Gallagher pride.

Ian lifted his forehead off of Mickey’s shoulder, and gently bit at the underside of Mickey’s jaw—and Mickey thought he was going to combust right there, on the spot, in a room full of Gallaghers pressed against the bartop at the Alibi by his very drunk husband.

And in an act of excruciatingly inconvenient timing, Lip sidled up to the bar and sat on the barstool on Mickey’s other side, nursing what Mickey assumed (and hoped) was a diet Coke in a beer glass.

“Hey there, Mick. And, uh, Ian.”

Ian looked up from where he was very engrossed in continuing to nuzzle the opposite side of Mickey’s neck, and glared at Lip from across Mickey’s chest.

“Go away, Lip.” Ian collapsed his head back onto Mickey’s shoulder and closed his eyes again, wrapping his arms around Mickey’s neck like a fucking boa constrictor. Mickey snaked an arm up around Ian’s back, holding him steady on the wobbly barstool.

Lip held back a laugh as he sipped his drink, then took a drag of the cigarette he was holding. “Seems like Ian’s done enough drinking to make our ancestors proud.”

Mickey took a sip of his own beer with his free hand. “Debbie made sure of that.”

Lip raised his eyebrows. “Damn. Guess we’d better keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t also have the Frank gene.”

Mickey grunted in acknowledgement, then took another sip of his beer, mostly because he didn’t know what else to say. Ian’s head shifted slightly on his shoulder— and Mickey realized he probably needed to haul Ian home ASAP, before he was even more sleepy and incoherent and unable to lug down the street.

Lip noticed Ian’s movement on Mickey’s shoulder and smirked. “I’ve gotta say, I’ve never seen Ian being this clingy before. Even with other guys—no offense, Mick— he usually stayed pretty contained. And you guys aren’t usually too into the PDA department.”

Mickey shrugged, trying not to jostle the heavy weight of where Ian’s head was hanging. Lip was right—he and Ian never really were all over each other, especially not like this, outside of the context of their room, when they were very much always all over each other.

Lip kept studying them, and the corner of his mouth eventually ticked upward. “It’s good. He’s definitely not this… comfortable with anyone else. Including me, which is definitely saying something.”

It felt weird, to get something like what felt like Lip’s full blessing at a raunchy Gallagher party months after he and Ian had gotten married—but that was also exactly what it felt like was happening.

Lip’s eyes suddenly darted across the room, to where Tami was holding up his coat and gesturing to the door. Lip rose from the barstool, stubbed out his cigarette, and put out a hand to clap Mickey on the shoulder as a goodbye.

“Catch up with you later, Mick.” Lip reached out and jokingly tousled Ian’s hair. “Make sure this one doesn’t hate himself too much tomorrow morning.”

Mickey smirked. Ian was practically asleep and drooling on his shoulder, his breathing turned steady—Mickey reached a hand up to card through his hair, then gently shrugged his shoulder to get Ian’s head to rise from where it was jammed on his neck.

Ian raised his head, his eyes bleary and confused at first, then softening around the edges when he met Mickey’s gaze.

“Alright, let’s get you home, carrottop.”

[tomhiddelstonandzaynmalik]

Love at first sight?

Chapter 8

Note: im using Celsius instead of Farenheit bc I get confused anddd for the fics purpose I made the reader from Arizona bc it's hot, sorry hehe.

prologue chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Warren Worthington III x reader

Word count: 1300 words

Warnings: language

"Worthington! Wait up". Warren stopped walking for his friend to catch up. "Yes, Monroe?". Ororo rushed from the main entrance to the end of the hall, where Warren was waiting for her. "So? Spit the beans!". She was referring to the meeting with The Professor, which had just ended a few minutes ago.

"Hell no! I'm starving, thanks to you! As far as I can recall, you did say you were going stop by the infirmary to bring me my breakfast, but you never came". Warren said resentfully. "Oh! Forgive me for trying to give you some privacy! I DID go over! but when I realized you were having a blast with "ms. mystery", I left!." Warren's mouth turned into a big "O" surprised by the girl's comment. "Shit, sorry I'm an ass. I should have known better than t-". Although Warren was showing great remorse for his actions, Ororo, on the other hand, seemed unbothered as he had cut his ramblings off. "Whatever, man. Listen up! Why don't I fix you something to eat in the kitchen while you tell me everything that happened, and not just with Charles". Her big brown eyes were beaming at him with mischief. After all, it wasn't likely of him to speak more than five consecutive words with strangers.

"Fine by me". The blond said, already walking to the kitchen. "Oh, by the way, her name is Y/N". He informed with a small smile creeping on his lips.

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

"For real?" You said in amazement as the man with glasses who went by the name of Hank explained to you some medical facts about your mutation you've been oblivious to your entire life. "Are you telling me my hydrokinesis has been the reason behind why I'm always cold?". Your face in awe had made the man chuckle. "Indeed, Y/N. Your connection with water goes beyond expected. Your body temperature resembles the ocean's, which means, unlike the rest of us who have an average temperature of 35.5 C° to 37 C°. Yours can go as low as -2 C° with its highest in 35 C° ". You turned to your left side, inspecting the monitor showing your vitals, where you read the big bright numbers. "So, does 20 C° mean... ". "Just fine". The doctor said.

"No need to remind you about staying clear from desserts or, you know, fires". "Damn it, just when I was considering moving to Egipt". You had meant for the man to laugh at your joke. Instead, he shot you a disapproving look. "I'm serious, Y/N. You could die. The body can endure temperatures up to 50 C° before death, but you, anywhere up to 39 C° can be fatal".

Those last words were bringing back the multiple times you'd fainted without any apparent reason. Even during a spring day back in your natal Arizona, you could end up in E.R. The doctors had always told your mother it was a heatstroke, yet it never made sense. Yes, it was warm but not blazingly hot like it should have to suffer one. To your mom, you were only doing it for the attention. And after moving to Washington, when you were 5, the faintings stopped, making her believe more in her assumptions.

It also made you remember those winter days when you were little, where all your friends would be covered head to toe with fuzzy clothing whilst you had nothing more than some jeans and a crewneck. People always believed your mother had sucked at parenting for leaving you so exposed to the weather, but for the first time, they were wrong. Yes, she sucked at being a mother, but at least this time, what seemed to be a lack of caring coming from her was just you not being affected by the freezing air like everyone else.

You were about to ask furthermore questions the tall man with the glasses he could perhaps be able to answer when a bald man in his late forties wheeled in. "How is our patient doing, Hank?". He asked. "Better than expected, Charles. Although I would suggest staying in here for observation another 24 hours, just to be sure". Hank replied, straightening his posture as the older man came further inside the room. But why? Just as you were seeking an answer, he spoke. "Because I am the headmaster, young lady. Charles Xavier, at your service". What the actual fuck, how could he have- "Telepathy, that is how, dear". A foreign voice explained inside your mind as the bald man stared at you with knowing eyes. "Please, don't do that ever again! Not without a heads-up at least!". You yelled fearfully. The idea of having somebody else inside your head unexpectedly had to be the scariest thing you could think of, and after having seen your frightened self, the man spoke ordinarily once again.

"Certainly! But, before we continue, how should I call you, dear?". The man, Charles, asked you with a tender voice. " Y/N".

"Very well, Y/N. Now, has Hank told you anything about what we do in here?". "Not much. That this is kinda like a boarding school but for weirdos like us and that some are of you like to run around the city wearing matching bodysuits playing heroes". You said while sitting down crisscrossed on the medical bed. "Well, you are not so wrong, but we are more than that". With that, the conversation about a brighter future for you began.

You had been brought to Charles Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters by luck, without any clue of what could be there to come for you. When you woke up, you'd thought for that place to be nothing but a fancy hospital and nothing else. Now, after your interaction with the headmaster, you were left with a lingering feeling of something you had never experienced before, hope.

Hope for a future away from the streets you've called home for almost a decade. A possibility to become someone you could be proud of being. To form bonds that could last more than a weak or two. Most importantly, the chance of not being so lonely anymore.

In conclusion, Charles Xavier gave you hope for making your wildest dream come true. Stay here, and you will live a normal life.

Both Charles and Hank left the infirmary wing for you to process the information at peace before accepting his offer of prolonging your stay. You'd been so concentrated thinking about all of it. You missed the moment your angel came in.

"By the expression on your face, I'm guessing Charles already asked you to stay in here". He spoke to you as he was reaching for the stool next to your side.

"How do you know that, Angel?". You asked, squinting your eyes in a questioning look.

"He told me after proposing to me the very same thing". Warren said.

"Well, are you?". You eagerly said.

"I don't know, are you?". If you were honest, everything about living at Xavier's sounded perfect to you. You would have accepted right away if it hadn't been for Charles himself who stopped you and made you think about it. After all, it was a 180° lifestyle change.

"Hell fucking yes! Why wouldn't I? It's not like you're allowed to live in a mansion every day" This was the answer which caused the mutant next to you to chuckle slightly. "Is that the only reason you're staying?". You would have said everything you'd been thinking about before warren showed up. Yet something in you told you. If you didn't, you could have plenty of time to do so.

"Not really, but if you decide to stay here, I might tell you all about them, Angel". You told Warren, who had now his eyes fixated on yours, those piercing blue eyes which seemed to be searching for something, what? You didn't know.

"Seems like we got a deal, Y/N".

[jobean12-blog]

Booyah!

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,725

Summary: You and Bucky use Tony’s time machine to take a trip back to NYC 1995 and visit Fao Schwarz and have a fun night out. 

Author’s Note: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club​ 24 hour surprise drabble challenge and Traveling Through Time (which was my idea haha) I decided to do something really sort of ridiculous and silly. Tony built a time machine bc we know he can and the team gets to just have fun with it. It was hard to decide when to go back to but I picked the 90s because it’s part of my childhood. Although, I was way too young to be clubbing then- but I definitely went to Fao Schwarz! haha Anyway, hope you enjoy this. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Silly and fun fluff! Kisses! Some implied sexy fun! It’s just you and Bucky checking out 1995 for a few days, a few fun 90s slang phrases that I hopefully used right HAHA ;) 

“Doll, are you sure this is a good idea?” Bucky looks at you before his eyes scan the time machine in Tony’s lab, the lights blinking sporadically and a low hum echoing off the walls. “I mean, what if we get stuck in 1995?” You give him a good once-over, letting your eyes linger at how nicely his white tee fits across his chest, “listen, you’re gonna love it and you’ll fit right in.” You let your gaze drop to his ass in the tight high waisted jeans before giving your belt a tug and pulling your jean jacket over your shoulders, “let’s go!”

He takes your hand and follows you inside, still unsure about the idea, “I wish this thing looked more like the DeLorean. At least we’d arrive in style. Well, here goes nothing.” Bucky closes the door and takes you in his arms, pulling down the lever and squeezing his eyes shut. For a second it feels like you’re free falling and you shriek, clinging to Bucky in a death grip. When the feeling subsides, you open your eyes and give Bucky a nervous glance. “You ok?” he asks quietly, smoothing some hair from your face. “Yes, you?”

Bucky nods, grasping your hand and pushing open the door of the time machine. “Woah.” You look outside and you’re greeted by the bright billboards of 1995’s times square. The Sony and Panasonic brand names stream across the skyline. “Hey, look at the Coca Cola symbol! That’s so cool!” You start pointing out all the fun things you recognize as Bucky just spins around in a circle, admiring the flashing lights and noises of the city streets.

After turning on the cloaking device for the machine he finally speaks, “ok, this is da bomb! I mean Times Square our time is cool, but this just feels different, lots of energy.” You narrow your eyes at his use of the 90s slang phrase, “are you making fun?” It’s hard to hide your smile when he takes your hand and holds it tightly in his own, exclaiming, “as if! It’s hella good!” You let your laughter loose and clutch your belly, trying to calm your breathing before saying, “let’s start with some toys!” Bucky’s eyebrows raise at the mention of toys and you smack his arm, “not those kinds of toys Buck. Although, we can definitely find some fun shops around here later if you want.”

He winks and lets you lead him away from the crowd to hail a cab. “Are you gonna tell me where we’re going baby girl?” You shake your head and slide into the car, giving the man an address with no name. The driver smiles and takes off, Bucky’s arm sliding around your shoulders so he can pull you close. “Ok, so this is totally fun. Who knew time travel would ever be a real thing?” You giggle and snuggle closer, “only for Tony and a lucky select few.”

When you pull up in front of FAO Schwarz, Bucky nearly jumps out of the cab, “no way! What a perfect idea! I haven’t been here in forever.” He takes your hand and rushes toward the door, stopping so abruptly you smash into his solid back. “Shit doll. I’m so sorry, I just wanted to ask if you had an extra hair tie?” Forgetting all about your dizziness you give him a mischievous smirk, “do I have a hair tie?” Your eyebrows wiggle so fast he starts to fidget nervously, “oh no. I’m definitely sorry I asked.”

You reach into your backpack and pull out a bright blue velvet scrunchie, “here you go Buck.” He first glares at the scrunchie before gracing you with the same look, “fine. Just. Don’t tell anyone.” He gathers his hair between his long fingers and pulls it to the base of his neck, securing it in messy bun with the bright blue velvet. “You. Look. Amazing.”

Bucky rolls his eyes but starts jogging toward the door, holding it open before dashing in behind you. The moment you enter the store you’re hit with a buzz of electricity from all the energy. It’s mobbed and there’s so much to look at you can barely focus your eyes. You hold tight to Bucky’s hand as you two start to wander around, acting like two kids every time you discover something new.

Bucky spots these giant bouncy Earth balls and grabs one, throwing it straight at your head. “Good catch,” he shouts, laughing when you launch it back at him as hard as you can. “And nice throw.” He picks up a basketball next and throws it at the hoop standing nearby, getting a clean shot in. “Now you’re just showing off.” He slides up next to you and pulls you in for a kiss. “Is it working?” he teases against your lips, deepening the kiss.

You nibble his bottom lip and reluctantly drag yourself away, “definitely.” With a giggle you head off toward the stuffed animal section, nearly screeching when you find the biggest stuffed teddy bear you’ve ever seen. “OH MY GOD BUCKY! I neeeeeed him!” When he doesn’t answer you turn around and can barely see his large frame hidden behind the biggest stuffed dog ever. “EEEEEE nevermind! I want him.”

Bucky somehow manages to get you into his arms while still holding the dog, “I think he needs to come home with us. You can hug him when I’m away on missions and you miss me.” You cuddle them both and nod into his chest, “yes please.” Bucky puts him back on the shelf so you can get him on the way out and heads up the escalator. You both smile big when you pass the iconic clock with the train and Bucky leans in close, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, “I love you.”

When you reach the second floor his eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sight of the Lego section. “Holy shit, this is insane!” You watch as he runs from set to set, gawking over how amazing each one is, “doll, you have to see this!” Following him around you can’t help but feel like a giddy kid, helping him pick out some sets to take home, “get whatever you want Buck. It will be fun to do these together.”

By the time you reach the checkout you’ve got the giant dog, several Lego sets and a few other trinkets you couldn’t resist. You stow everything away in the hidden time machine and laugh when your stomach growls, “I need to eat!” Bucky enthusiastically agrees, “let’s bounce!” You laugh while hailing another cab, at this point almost getting used to his usage of the fun 90s phrases, “aiiiiiight, Buck.”

Bucky’s stomach grumbles again and you pat it, dancing your fingers up to his jaw, “we’re almost there.” The food at Nobu does not disappoint and by the time you guys leave you’re full of delicious Japanese inspired cuisine. Bucky rubs his stomach, “I want to eat there every day!” You laugh, “me too! Ok, so let’s head to the hotel and nap and then get changed for our night out.”

You walk along the streets, your pace slow and easy as you enjoy the sights and sounds of everything around you. Once you reach the Plaza hotel you check in and head upstairs to your room, immediately toeing off your shoes and running a bath in the jacuzzi tub. Bucky watches as you remove your clothes and step into the hot water, sighing as it covers your body.

He quickly strips and gets in, situating himself behind you and pulling you between his legs. “If this is what every day in 1995 is like I’m not sure we should go back.” You rest your head back against his chest and moan when he lathers the soap into his hands and starts massaging your head. “I know right. But what about your home skillet, Steve? He’ll miss you so much!”

Bucky quietly repeats the term home skillet, clearly questioning its meaning while you keep going on about the time machine and why you have to go back. It isn’t until Bucky’s metal fingers dip between your legs that you’re ripped from your rambling thoughts.  “Fuck,” you gasp, instantly on fire for him. The next hour goes by in a haze of soft touches, mingled breaths and tangled limbs. By the time you leave the bath your body feels like jelly and you’re more than ready for some rest.

After a nice nap you get up to get ready, changing into a look more suited for the club scene. Bucky eyes you appreciatively when you step out of the bathroom in your crop top and short skirt, “wow you look fly.” You take in his tight jeans and crisp tee shirt, the whole look completed with his leather jacket, “so do you. Ready to party?”

When the cab pulls up to Limelight you can already hear the loud thump of the bass and the line is down the street. “Woah, this place is hoppin’!” You laugh at his choice of words and get on the line, moving your hips and shimming against Bucky while you wait. “If you don’t cut it out I’m gonna have to drag you into a dark corner the second we get in there.” You don’t stop and the closer you get to the door the more you grind yourself over him. “Doll, you’re asking for it.” You turn around and throw him a million-dollar smile, “whatever.”

The instant you step into the club you can feel the air around you shift, the music vibrating through your body as strongly as the energy that radiates off the crowd. Bucky keeps you close as you make your way across the sea of writhing bodies and find yourselves a spot on the dance floor. The dancers on the platforms leave little to the imagination and the rhythm of the music just sets the mood for play. Bucky’s hands roam over every inch of your skin as you lose yourselves in the rowdy debauchery, finding it almost impossible to resist. Bucky’s lips meet your ear in a husky promise, “if you keep moving like this we’re gonna get jiggy with it right here on the dance floor.”

@addikted-2-dopamine​ @bugsbucky​ @buckstaybucky​ @bisousbucky​ @breezy1415​ @buckys-henley​ @book-dragon-13​ @chuuulip​ @eurynome827​ @hiddles-rose​ @hailmary-yramliah​ @hawksmagnolia​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @ikaris-whore​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @loricameback​ @lorilane33​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @lookiamtrying​ @littleredstarfish​ @lokilvrr​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @tuiccim​ @the-wayward-robot​ @this-kitten-is-smitten​ @yansi1923​

[prose-for-hire]

Btvs Headcanons:

Hc: You work in a store they frequent, meet them that way, and feelings develop. How each character would show you that they care about you/ask you on a date after getting to know them. 

Edited to include Oz. [Jenny Calendar hc is separate here ]

Warning: one small mention of sex. and in one hc the store is a butchers

I thought this would be fun, maybe a little different than my usual. You can request some people that aren’t on here if you like. Or a different job or scenario where you would meet them.💜

Spike:

- you work at a 24 hour store, he comes in at weird times of the night

- You catch Spike stealing and take pity on him, letting it slide (he looks a bit gaunt, maybe he’s not eating properly)

- There’s no cameras the place you work is crappy so you maintain eye contact and just nod at him, allowing him to take whatever it is he’s concealed under his leather duster

- He’d start to come in and either blatantly steal so you would catch him and talk to him or buy lots of stuff he didn’t need with money he had ‘borrowed’ from one of the scoobies

- He talks a lot and appears to be trying to impress you, it makes you smile

- But also he’s very attentive to you and asks you things about yourself, wanting to learn everything he can

- He starts waiting for you, watching through the glass, going through whole packs of cigarettes making sure you’re okay and no customers are being nasty

- He will come in and threaten to drain them dry if they say one more horrible thing to you, it’s happened twice

- He follows you home before eventually offering to walk with you

- He’ll probably bottle all of his feelings up for a long time, professing his love in a very heartfelt speech and crashing his lips to yours before actually asking you on a date

Angel:

(I’m so sorry if you don’t eat meat)

- You work at the butchers and Angel used to come in all the time really early before the sun rose

- You were embarrassed such an attractive man saw you in your overalls smelling of raw meat

- Too embarrassed to ask yourself why he wanted so much animal blood

- You soon had his regular order ready and waiting for him, he always seemed to be in a rush. This meant there was a little time for you to talk because he already had his order

- You instigated, asking him lots of questions with you getting one word answers (you think he’s not interested and stop)

- But he’s just trying to keep his distance, he knows what happens when he gets too involved. Things seem to go wrong

- He eventually bumps into you after work one evening, not able to stay away completely

- You work long hours so he’s trying to make sure you’re getting home okay by hanging back in the shadows

- Eventually starts to offer to walk you and you happily agree, chatting nonstop about the delivery or what you were taught that day about slicing into something

- He enjoys just hearing you talk, not able to help smiling at the way you animatedly recount your day to him, eventually one day he’ll offer for you to visit his place making a date out of it

Xander:

- you probably work with him, one of the many jobs he took on after high school

- you both work at a pizza place, he delivers you make the orders

- he acts really weird around you at first, dropping things and stumbling over his words when he speaks to you

- he cracks some childish jokes but you laugh along with him, finding him sweet

- he grins wide when you start to joke back, pulling funny faces behind the manager’s back when it’s turned

- He’ll be thinking of asking you on a date for a really long time, probably since he first met you

- He’s nervous and he doesn’t want you laughing in his face, he probably doesn’t think he has a shot with someone as great as you

- But he just rushes out and says it one night when you’re both grabbing your jackets to leave

- You smile, scan his face to check he’s joking, then nod and say you’d love to

- You go to the Bronze, have a contest to see who can catch the most peanuts in your mouth (if you’re allergic, it’s some other competition, maybe who can finish their drink the fastest)

- He might let you win and then just lean straight in and kiss you when you celebrate

Buffy:

- Buffy comes into the late night store you work at for gum or snacks (something she can carry while she patrols) she recognises you as her regular cashier after a few months.

- I feel like she has a lot on her plate, forgive her for not noticing you straight away

- She’s probs trying to get over someone atm or struggling to trust after her last relationship

- You’re extra friendly with her and she realises after talking it over with Willow that you were actually flirting

- Realises the brief interaction she gets with you makes her feel happy. Real happy and she doesn’t have to be responsible for anyone but herself when she’s chatting away with you

- Starts to ask you questions about yourself enjoying your company. Every time without fail she asks when you get off work, she’s concerned you’re always walking home in the dark

- starts to loop back past your store when she’s on patrol, pretending she was still in the area when you got off

- offering to walk you home a lot, accidentally dropping a pile of weapons once and having to pretend she was doing a woodworking class

- she eventually asks you on a date, encouraged by her friends to make the first move, and you’ll go to the Bronze, dancing and laughing the whole time

Faith:

- you work at the convenience store near the Mayor’s office

- She comes in on her way back to her crappy motel

- she feels a bit conflicted about sneaking around behind Buffy’s back but your bright smile to greet her almost makes her forget

- you caught her eye pretty much the first time she saw you waiting by the register

- she usually asks for some smokes and started to offer to share one with you on your break

- if you smoke, you say yes, if you don’t you say you’ll still come outside with her on your break to keep her company

- you’ll mostly talk with her chipping in at first and then she finds out how good it is to vent to someone

- your break’s over but you tell her you don’t want her to be on her own struggling through her thoughts

- you ask if she can wait, but she doesn’t really do waiting around

- she does give you the address to the motel she’s staying at though and she’ll smoke every hour until she sees you walking

- this is your first date, the one you count as your first date anyway

- you spend the whole night talking, sometimes even laughing. You make her feel like a person, not just a Slayer

Cordy:

- you work at the mall. Specifically a boutique or somewhere Cordy regularly visits

- she’s kind to you but a bit abrupt if you start talking about anything that isn’t a sale

- her dad no longer has any money and she’s a struggling actress after hs and you overhear her phone conversation about how hard everything is

- she wants this pretty dress that you know she’d look beautiful in

- you offer her your employee discount, telling her to keep it quiet

- after that, she specifically requests you and after her fifth visit realises she has been coming and looking forward to seeing you more than the dresses

- this means she’s in deep

- she won’t beat around the bush, she’ll ask you if you won’t ask her

- “Bronze. 8pm” with a little wink, hauling her shopping bags with her before leaving

- You have a great time and you meet up again she does little fashion shows for you before you go out, liking your eye for fashion and asks you to help her choose outfits for your dates

- She’ll want to go public places for dates to show off your relationship

Giles:

- Book store (obviously)

- You’re the most knowledgeable about his particular interest (cough, demons, cough) and he is attracted straight away to your apparent intelligence

- You already know about demons and everything, having studied it extensively as well as running into a vampire late one night and managing to get away unscathed

- He marvelled at this and you tell it so casually, explaining that you just did what the books told you and put it in practice

- He’s lonely really, always hanging around people a lot younger that don’t take him as seriously as he takes himself, but you do

- You think he’s fun to be around, he probably doesn’t wait too long, asking you for a drink the first or second time he meets you.

- He knows life’s too short, especially in Sunnydale

- You appreciate his dry humour and the way he isn’t just bookish, he has a lot of really great qualities

- You haven’t seen him as Ripper, but you know it’s there. He’s open with you and he’ll tell you about his past. He believes in trust

- You go on a lot of dates after that first drink, you even get introduced to the Scoobies and become a kind of parent figure too

Riley Finn:

- you bag his groceries at the supermarket.

- He’s always polite, makes you feel like a human being not just somebody serving him

- Always chats about the weather or something generic that won’t compromise his job, but he likes talking to you

- He occasionally makes a comment to make you smile because seeing your real smile, not the one you put on for customers, is so much sweeter

- He’ll probably come in regularly, same time, same day every week for his shopping now (bc you’re there)

- Bumps into you accidentally while you’re stocking a shelf and helps you pick everything up, smiling at the way you get a little flustered, insisting it was his fault not yours

- He’ll probably ask you if you’ve ever heard of the Bronze, which of course you have because that’s the only half-decent place in town

- Says he’d really like to see you there, like maybe tonight, so you go and have a really great time

- He says he doesn’t want to wait to see you again, but he’s very respectful will probably give you his number so that you can call him first and you don’t feel pressured into a second date or anything

Willow:

- You work at a magic shop

- you help her find the ingredients to a spell she’s been itching to try and give her little tips

- She really likes that you know lots about magic and what ingredient you could swap out for a better result

- You’ll grow close, she’ll pop in and tell you how well/badly the latest spells went

- She’ll tell stories in her characteristic way and you’ll smile at how cute she is and her fun vocabulary you’ll find yourself picking up

- You’ll offer to meet her and help her out with some spells

- She’ll bounce off the walls in excitement

- Probably spend the whole day making sure her dorm room is ‘just right’ for you to see and that she’s made sure about ten times that Buffy is definitely going to be out

- You’ll do the spell, it’ll be a big success because working together shows you that you have this amazing connection

- Then you’ll be talking and sharing loads for hours

- She’ll take you to the Bronze if it’s not too late, if it’s too late she’ll ask what you’re doing at the weekend and invite you then

Tara:

- Also at a magic shop. Probably specifically the Magic Box, after Giles takes it on

- You’re a Scooby and Tara’s moved to Sunnydale for college. She wanted to check out the magic box straight away

- You catch each other’s eye and she looks a little shy

- Starts to stutter when you make conversation, but you’re patient with her, giving her time to finish her words that have become jumbled in your presence.

- She asks for help with finding something only when she absolutely has to, but you’re always kind with her when she does and she smiles so bright when she finds what she’s looking for, scrunching her mouth to the side a little when she looks back at you

- You start to recommend places in Sunnydale for her to check out, trying to gauge if she would be into you or not. You eventually offer to take her and show her around and she nods excitedly

- You both have a really great time and she makes you feel special. She talks a lot more now she’s comfortable with you

- you suggest you could try some magic together, only if she wanted

- She does, you meet up a lot and you date and magically create a cat to own together

- You both have a long, happy life together 

Anya:

- You work in the magic box with her. I feel like you both didn’t get on at first

- you didn’t understand her and she felt misunderstood, making her snappy and blunt with you

- eventually, you started to understand she needed a bit of time and you explained yourself more. Why you were doing things, being patient with her and fully giving her everything you could to help her understand the reasoning

- she really appreciated it, nobody ever did this for her without some level of teasing

- she explains about being an ex-vengeance demon. You can’t say you’re shocked (you live in Sunnydale and work in the magic box)

- you were patient with her and she quickly asked if you could start having sex trying to plan out your relationship

- you told her you would rather get to know her first, especially considering you worked together (leading to a chat about workplace relationships going wrong, which leads to an anecdote about her knowing this because of her vengeance days)

- but the feelings were undeniable and you started dating very quickly

- she’ll probably start dropping hints about marriage or the equivalent very soon too

Oz

- you work at a record store.

- He comes in pretty regularly, but he doesn’t really say much

- Not until you notice a record he’s holding and start to gush about it

- Your manager told you to talk to customers and encourage them to buy more, but this wasn’t that. And he could tell

- He loved your enthusiasm and he wanted to get to know you

- You caught his eye probably one of the first times he saw you working behind the counter, humming to a song which happened to be one of his favourites

- He just knew then that he wanted to date you

- whispering, “who are they?” but to himself because he always come into the store alone (he wants the experience, just him and the music… and maybe a glance or two at you)

-  He might bring some fliers in one day, asking if the store will put them up, advertising Dingoes’ latest gig

- He’ll say you could come, if you want, with a characteristic shrug

- And you’ll obviously say yes and he likes how excitable you are, you contrast with his chill vibe

-  And you go and have a great time

- then you talk after, telling him how cool his band is

- You’ll hit it off, finding his phrasing and humour endearing. He’ll gift you a guitar pick from your first sort of date. He’s a romantic

- You’ll mostly come to wherever he’s playing and have a date after

-  he’s very sweet, very caring. Always offers to take you somewhere else for a date but you insist on supporting him and getting a drink after

- won’t be much of a talker, but you will always feel loved by him 

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Second Chances ⊰

Pairing: Jack Traven x Reader

Request: Could u do an imagine where the reader and either Utah or jack traven dated but he did something stupid and they broke up and they realize they made a mistake and want the reader back- Anon

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Brief mentions of sex and alcohol, angst and fluff 

A/N: Sorry if this is eh. I’ve been having a tough time with writing lately. Also, as much as I wanted the put smut here, I wasn’t able to do it and just went with a fluffy end. But I’ll definitely write something smutty for Jack in the future bc he’s just too fking delicious ;) Hope you enjoy!!

24 days.

It’s been 24 long and excruciating days since you broke up with Jack, and he had already lost his goddamn mind.

Standing in the middle of his kitchen, he reminisced back to simpler times; you and him waking up in bed on a slow Saturday, limbs tangled under the sheets. Jack especially loved the weekends when he didn’t have to work because it meant spending the entire day with you.

After a round of morning sex (sometimes, even two), you would head over to the kitchen and cook breakfast together. Jack could recall the last time you stood there in front of the stove, flipping eggs in a pan while he wound his arms around your waist, pressing his firm chest to your back.

Jack was always a tease, knowing that he could get you riled up by merely skimming his hands down your body and nipping at the delicate skin on your neck. Breakfast was usually an endeavor for the both of you. It ended with either the food burnt to a crisp or not even cooked at all once you shifted your attention from it to something much better.

Heaving out a sigh, he proceeded to get a bottle of beer from the fridge before heading back to the living room, his third trip for the night but surely not the last. Since the break-up, Jack had been working longer hours, even more so than usual. He needed to be busy, he needed to be distracted. He wanted to save the pathetic wallowing towards the end of the day, which he was doing now.

Everywhere he went, Jack was reminded of you, adding more weight to his burdened heart. He could still hear the sound of your sweet laughter, and if he concentrated hard enough, feel the warmth of your lips on his. No matter how much time had passed, it seemed as though it was only getting worse. Losing you was a pain like no other. In fact, he would rather get beaten up or shot at rather than spend the rest of his life without you.

Mindlessly staring at the television screen, he wondered to himself how you were handling this. Jack hadn’t seen or spoken to you after you stormed out of his apartment nearly a month ago, and you had ignored all his phone calls. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure of what to say if you decided to pick up. No amount of words would ever be enough to fix what you and he had.

Or at least, that’s what he believed.

The tv hummed quietly in the background as Jack downed the last of his beer, the alcohol barely helping him forget the dull ache in his chest. The more he tried to push the thought of you out of his mind, the more the memories haunted him. He was miserable, empty. The numbness was slowly eating him up, and it was overwhelming.

As Jack continued to pity himself, he knew that something had to be done. 24 days of desolation, and he’s had it. He was tired of waking up in bed alone after having dreams about you. Dreams which reminded him of happier moments, now reduced to a thing of the past. But amid all the sadness and regret, Jack needed you, desperate to win you back.

So, he made his decision.

Hastily, Jack got up from the couch, nearly tripping over his feet before trying to search his car keys. He muttered a curse under his breath when he couldn’t find them and didn’t have the patience to check the other rooms. Groaning, he did the next best thing his hazy mind could think of.

Jack slipped on his coat and ran out of the door, the cool nighttime air of LA greeting him once he stepped outside. Luckily for him, your house wasn’t too far from his, but quite a distance now that he’s on foot. It took him almost fifteen minutes to get to your door, his lungs screaming for oxygen after sprinting as fast as he could.

Honestly, Jack didn’t know how you would react to him showing up at your front porch at nearly 2AM. Certainly, you would be pissed that he had woken you up in the dead of the night. You might even end up slapping him across the face for daring to appear before you after the shit he pulled.

Either way, it was too late for him to turn back around. Jack had already rung your doorbell and was pounding his fist on the wooden frame, calling out to you until the lights inside finally switched on.

“What the fuck, Jack?” You grumbled once you swung open the door. “You better have a good excuse for coming here.”

“I’m sorry, but this couldn’t wait till morning,” he replied, slurring his words. Jack felt his heart hammering in his chest as you stared at him, the moonlight dancing in your eyes as he remembered how much he’d missed seeing them. “Y/N, I want to apologize again for what I’ve done. This past couple of weeks have been hell, and I just can’t move on, babe. Please, forgive me and come back.”

Scoffing, you shook your head at him in utter disbelief. “Jack, you screwed up big time, and I can’t see myself trusting you after what you’ve done.”

“I told you, it didn’t mean anything—”

“But you still kissed her, Jack. You still kissed Annie.”

Jack froze at the sound of her name. It was as if he had sobered up instantly when you mentioned Annie, the woman he had risked his life to save hers. You saw the two of them in the news covering the ordeal, noticing how close she stood next to him and how tightly her arm was wrapped around his body as they emerged from the train wreckage.

You thought nothing of it until you saw the papers the following morning. A picture of your boyfriend passionately kissing someone he had only known for a day was plastered on the front covers. And if that wasn’t bad enough, Jack couldn’t give you a good enough explanation for his actions. He didn’t even realize how much he had hurt and embarrassed you until after your relationship ended.

“Well?” You stood there before him, the pain emitting from your stern gaze. “You know what? Just go home, Jack. Leave me alone.”

Before you could shut the door on Jack’s face, he had swiftly wedged his foot in to prevent you from doing so. “Just hear me out, baby. Give me a chance to explain myself.”

“I’m not interested,” you huffed, but still, Jack would not budge. He heard you sigh deeply in defeat as your eyes flickered away. “Fine, you have one minute.”

Swallowing thickly, Jack watched as you leaned against the door, your attention solely on him. “I fucked up, and I understand that now. I don’t know what came over me when Annie and I kissed, but what I should have done was push her away.”

He could see the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. “I love you, Y/N. You’re the only one for me. I will do whatever it is that you want if it means being with you again. Please, baby. I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you because you’re all I ever want and need.”

The air was still, filled with tension and silence as Jack waited for a response. He couldn’t read the expression on your face, and slowly, he felt as though he was losing the battle. But then he saw a small yet saddened smile gracing your lips, and his hope began to blossom from the inside.

“You’re an idiot, Jack Traven,” you simply spoke, voice slightly quavering though there was a gentle gleam in your eyes. “But, I do still love you.”

“Does this mean you’ll take me back?” Jack asked, approaching you carefully.

You nodded once as you opened the door wider, leaving the warmth of your home in favor of Jack’s. Closing the distance between you and him, your arms immediately encircled his waist, your head coming to rest against his chest. For a brief second, he stood there, tenderly holding you while silently thanking his lucky stars that he had you again.

Tilting your gaze up to meet his, you slowly leaned in, capturing his lips with a soft kiss. Jack quickly responded to your kiss, relishing the pure sweetness of it as his hands came up to cradle the sides of your face. Time seemed to stand still as the kiss grew more passionate, leaving the two of you breathless after pulling away.

Gently stroking your cheeks, Jack then pressed his forehead to yours as he savored the tranquility of the moment and the feeling of having you in his arms.

He missed this, he missed you.

“Did you just run all the way here instead of taking your car?” You suddenly questioned him.

Jack nodded as he craned his head back to look at you. “Couldn’t find my keys. It’s a good thing anyway, I was drinking before I got here.”

“I know,” you whispered. “You turn into a romantic fool when you drink. I can’t believe you ran here to tell me that you love me.”

“I told you,” Jack chuckled, stealing a kiss from you. “This couldn’t wait until morning.”

“So, I guess you’ll be spending the night here?”

“Only if you want me to,” he added, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

You laughed softly as Jack nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, breathing in your familiar scent. “Fine, but only because I miss making breakfast with you.”

“Are you sure that’s all?” He inquired, and you rolled your eyes.

“No,” you then smiled, reaching a hand up to cup the edge of his jaw. “I supposed there’s more that I miss.”

“Then it’s best we catch up, starting now.” Jack grinned widely before sweeping you up in his strong arms and carrying you back inside the house, eager to show you how grateful he was for being given a second chance.

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[cultofbeatles]

beginners guide to the beatles

 made one of these a long time ago but i'm surprised by how short it was. so here we go again. doing it right this time lol. 

pov: you told a bad joke and now the beatles are judging you. 

john winston lennon. later in his life known as john winston ono lennon. 

born on october 9, 1940 

i believe in astrology bc how does john just happen to be a libra 

when john was four he started living with his aunt mimi who acted more as his mother figure 

his mother, julia, remarried and would visit him quite a bit.

it was julia who taught john how to play banjo and piano. and she bought his first guitar.

they both had a deep love for music and rock n roll 

he never really thought of her as his mother but more as a cool friend i suppose 

aunt mimi was more rough on him and did the disciplining 

his father was never really present growing up and his uncle passed away when he was young 

he thought he was a curse for the men in his family 

he had five half siblings. two of them, julia and jacqueline, he was pretty close to. the other three he barely knew. 

fashion icon.

hated school but loved art 

very early on he was insecure with himself 

teachers always shit on him and said he would go nowhere in life 

he met paul at a church fete on july 6, 1957 

paul taught him how to play guitar properly.

once told paul that he didnt know how paul carried on after his mother died bc he just didn't think he could do it 

john’s mother died from being hit by an off duty policemen. john was seventeen at the time. 

 he took her death really hard and became a bit of a recluse. 

first serious relationship was with cynthia (we stan her) 

once cynthia cut her hair short and he didn't talk to her for two days. 

hate men. kill all men. 

when he asked her to dance at a party she turned him down saying that she was engaged, and so he said “well i didn't ask you to fucking marry me, did i?” 

slapped her once bc he was drunk and another boy was talking to her.

only time her hit her.

read cynthia’s books about john pls. i beg. 

once a psychic told him that he would be shot in the states.

founder of the beatles and also came up with the name.

instruments he could play: guitar, harmonica, rhythm guitar, banjo, keyboard, piano, saxophone, bass guitar, and a little drums. 

main songwriter in the beatles along with paul.

was more open minded to change in the beatles music. 

was insecure in his relationship with paul after a while bc he thought he only needed him for songwriting. 

would bitch about paul all day long but the second anyone else said something about him he’d be on their ass. 

had a lot of issues and needed a good hug. 

suffered from eating disorders, drug addictions, depression, insecurities, and questioned his sexuality bc of the time. 

was super open minded and ahead of his time in many instances. 

once he was called “the fat beatle” and after that he stopped eating as much.

truly loved his first son, julian lennon, and would buy him presents all the time bc he was excited to see him play with them.

“your famous ex husband”

he enjoyed playing monopoly. 

he once claimed that he saw a ufo.

he had written three books but he always wanted to write a children's book.

 the last song he ever performed in front of a live audience was “i saw her standing there.” with elton john.

he was afraid of the dark. 

found out later in his life that he was dyslexic. 

was also legally blind without glasses.

never could catch a break huh.

said that his best lyric ever was “all you need is love” i agree.

the first time yoko and john met was not at her art exhibit but actually when she approached him about giving away songs for free.

wanted to write a musical with paul. 

once a friend dared him to masturbate ten times in one day and he managed to do it nine times.

would hold circle jerks with paul and a few other friends. 

just dudes being dudes. 

went on a holiday with brian epstein, who was gay, and told some people afterward that they did certain sexual things. but we will never know for sure.

yoko says that john was bisexual.

once in an interview he said that he would of married a rich man or woman if he wasn't in the beatles. 

hated his voice on records. would always ask for effects on his voice for final recordings. 

made a film with yoko where it was just his penis going from flaccid to erect for fifteen minutes in slow motion. 

only beatle not to of become a vegetarian while he was alive. 

murdered on december 8, 1980.

gave his autograph earlier in the day to the man who would murder him.

died at the age of 40.

“all my loving” was played while he was at the hospital.

and its spooky bc a lot of times in interviews he would say “when i'm 40..” 

and it’s sad bc he was finally becoming who he truly wanted to be. 

honorable john moments that i love:

“thanks for the purpler hearts” he says while receiving the silver heart 

“you are the first person from liverpool that i've ever seen” “great”

eric lennon on my mind today 

this come together performance where he messed up the lyrics lol

that interview where paul was sick and john keep checking on him 

john lennon speaking nothing but facts 

when he said that he could see the beatles going separate ways but that they'd always come back together.

SHUT UP 

“shut up while he’s talking..”

this interview breaks my heart sometimes 

and this interview is great as well 

sir james paul mccartney 

born on june 18, 1942

if you ever have spare time just check out this man’s natal chart. 

idk how he’s still alive with his chart tbh. 

he has a younger brother named mike and a step sister named ruth. 

his dad thought he was the ugliest baby he’d ever seen when he was born. 

when he was young paul would kill frogs in a way to prepare himself for the war if he ever was drafted. 

the first instrument he ever learned to play was the trumpet.

I don't even want to list every instrument this man can play but trust me when I say it’s a lot.

but for the beatles he mainly did bass, vocals, and piano. sometimes playing the guitar and the drums.

the beatles was just paul moving really, really fast. 

he lost his mother when he was 14 due to surgery for breast cancer.

never really learned how to cope well with loss of a loved one tbh. 

had the cutest chubby cheeks as a kid tbh 

met john and was accepted into his band 

sometimes they'd ditch school together and either work on music or would visit art galleries.

went to paris with john and john bought him all the banana milkshakes that he wanted.

connected over their love and admiration for music, and bc they had both lost their mothers. 

had a girlfriend’s mom who he would make comb his leg hairs. 

was an ass to his first girlfriend.

kill all men again. 

almost had to marry his girlfriend dot bc she was pregnant, but she ended up losing the baby.

was the one who introduced george harrison to john.

practically despised pete best and stuart stutcliffe bc they were bringing the group down. 

got arrested along with pete best bc they lit a condom on fire in hamburg.

still felt awful and a little guilty when stuart died suddenly. 

main force behind the beatles imo. 

without him we’d have not as much beatles music as we do. 

was dating jane asher throughout majority of the sixties. 

when they first met they talked about syrup and paul fell in love.

they broke things off after she walked in on him sleeping with another woman though.

directed magical mystery tour and it was amazing and I don't care what anyone says ok?

when john divorced cynthia he was the only one not scared of john and went against his wishes of not speaking to cynthia.

was a little controlling at times. 

has a good heart though. 

mal evans had to drive him home once after a beatles sessions bc he was crying so hard. 

was talking about getting the band back to touring when john said he was leaving the group. 

everyone kind of turned against him when the beatles were breaking up and i hate it.

he just wanted what was best for the band.

married linda and had a nice little farm. 

we love that story.

linda i'm free thursday if you want to hang out pls.

started up the whole “no meat monday” thing where you don't eat monday on mondays

food meat. not the other kind of meat.

children: james mccartney, stella mccartney, heather mccartney, mary mccartney, and beatrice mccartney. 

rip martha. 

WINGS!! 

he lost linda in 1998 due to cancer.

 cried for a whole year bc of it.

still has dreams about john and says they're nice.

wrote a sad song about john called “here today.”

really loved john. like..he truly, genuinely did. 

want someone to love me like paul does john. 

“think of me every now and then old friend.”

honorable paul moments:

his story about george’s dad 

“john? he was beautiful. very beautiful.”

humpty dumpty rap 

another story about him and george.

his google search video that I watch every week 

this 

george harrison 

born: February 24, 1943 

or at least we think 

bc he use to say that his birthday was february 25, but later started saying it february 24. 

why can't we change our birthdays its not like we picked it 

he was the youngest child.

baby of the family and of the beatles awwww

two older brothers named harry and peter. one older sister named louise.

when george’s mom was pregnant with him she’d play sitar music.

his mom was super supportive of his career choice 

when he was 16 he worked as an electricians apprentice.

his dad kind of hoped he would start a family business out of it.

george said nah

would ride the bus opposite way of his house just to spend time with paul 

headbutted a kid bc he didn't think they were worthy of paul’s friendship 

was brought into the band bc of paul insisting to john 

would follow john around like a lost puppy when he first met him 

once had an eight hour erection. don't ask me how idk he said it.

was 17 when he lost his virginity and the other band members were in the room watching and cheered him when he finished 

most sex craved beatle tbh 

once walked into a girls dressing room and asked if they could stand there so he could masturbate 

he was the first beatle to go to america 

got a black eye for defending ringo once 

would make john and paul take turns sharing rooms with ringo when he first joined the band so that he felt more welcomed 

when ringo left during the white album and then came back george decorated the studio with flowers for him 

during the beatles first recording session he told george martin that he didn't like his tie

became a vegetarian at 22 

favorite candy was jelly beans and purple was his favorite color 

used the phrase “grotty” in the hard days night movie, hated it, but everyone else picked up on the slang 

met his first wife, pattie boyd, on the set of a hard days night 

was turned down by her at first 

they married in 1966

wouldn't let her do modeling stuff and was kind of an ass 

a stylish couple but not the best image for a healthy relationship 

got into eastern religion around 1965 

during the Hamburg days he would eat chicken on stage 

had an affair with ringo’s first wife maureen 

got a divorce from pattie in 1977

in 1978 he married olivia who he stayed with until his death and had one son with. dhani.

was the first beatle to hit a number one single and album. 

was buddies with led zeppelin

inspired their “rain song” 

smashed a piece of cake on john bonham’s head and then was thrown into the pool by him 

he financed and produced films. had a production company.

tom petty said that george never shut up once you started talking to him 

but he was often referred to as “the quiet beatle”

formed another band called the traveling wilburys

he’d answer questions online in the 2000′s and it’s the cutest thing ever and his answers break my heart too.

“what do you miss most about john lennon?” “john lennon.”

in 1999 a schizophrenic person broke into his house and stabbed him 40 times 

thank god olivia was there bc she was the only braincell in the room 

had to get a part of his lung taken out 

died november 29, 2001 from lung cancer 

ashes were scattered into the ganges river 

honorable george moments:

this interview he did with ringo 

“i'm sad bc i can't play guitars with john anymore. but i did that...i know we’ll meet again some day.”

when he invented reaction videos 

“the wind was blowing.” “..blowing my girl?”

“what kind of girl do you like?” “john’s wife.”

sir richard starkey aka ringo starr 

born on july 7, 1940 

oldest member in the group 

has no siblings 

naturally was left handed but his grandma thought it was bad luck so he writes right handed, and plays drums with a right handed kit 

but does everything else left handed

when he was 6 he fell into a two month coma 

was a very sick child 

when he was 13 he was in the hosiptal for tuberculosis and formed a hospital band 

grew up poor 

loves and looked up to his stepfather a lot 

his step father bought him his first drum kit in 1957

wasn't that great in school bc he missed so much of it from being so sick 

he worked for a britain railway for a while 

also served drinks on a day boat for a job 

loves dancing 

Rory storm and the hurricanes 

got his nickname from all the rings he would wear

replaced pete best as the beatles drummer 

dealt with people hating him for a bit bc they liked pete more 

had to style his hair in a bowl cut to be in the band and i'm still mad at them for making him do that shit 

ringo i'm so sorry 

george martin didn't really like his drumming and had a session drummer come in for the first album 

in 1964 he had tonsillitis, pharyngitis, and high fever all at once and had to be in the hospital for a bit.

was worried the beatles would replace him for good 

he’s a cancer don't worry

was the first beatle to try weed 

drummers always go first huh 

married his first wife, maureen, in 1965 

she kissed paul, ringo, and george.

what a champ

honeymoon was ruined by reporters 

was really insecure in his relationship and needed a lot of reassurance 

had a great relationship with pretty much all the beatles 

but a great one with john 

john felt his most relaxed when he was with ringo

was once in a movie with roger daltrey 

divorced maureen in 1975 

his wife now is barbara bach who he married in 1981 

had alcohol problems 

once gotten so drunk that he beat barbara so badly that he thought he killed her 

put himself into rehab after that 

barbara lowkey looks like jan from the office 

children: zak, lee, and jason

zak is the drummer for the band the who 

peace and love 

but don't send me fan mail anymore 

peace and love 

ringo starr and the allstar band (starting 1981)

was the narrator for thomas the tank engine 

will play at paul’s concerts sometimes now for fun 

mad bc he came on stage during paul’s last concert show and it was on my birthday and I couldn't go to it 

honorable ringo moments:

“do you want me to come with you?”

stupid barbara walters 

talking about paul 

giving us a little dance 

[boreum-dal]

cardcaptor sakura: boy band au #1

so, a while back, in the midst of a DEEP dive into BTS, @swingsdown​ and i brainstormed a stupidly indulgent CCS boy band AU which i’ve written in bits and pieces over the last few months for fun. i don’t plan to do much with it, but i thought it’d be fun to post little bits of it here as it gets written.

below is the rundown: 

touya, yukito, eriol, syaoran, and yamazaki make up japan’s hottest boy group, CLOW, a group that has smashed regional and global records, amassed a cult-like legion of fans, and reached new peaks of success with every comeback they stage. beyond good looks, catchy music, and charming personalities, the group captures the hearts of fans with what appears to be genuine brotherhood and love for each other both on- and off-camera. but just when it looks like they can’t fly any higher, yukito, the glue of the group, abruptly leaves, and everything is at risk of falling apart. 

these are non-chronological vignettes of the band’s time together, both while yukito is with them and after he leaves as they try to stage a return to the music world. 

[see below for descriptions of the boys’ roles in the band, etc. + first vignette]

navigation:

[intro & post-yukito #1] [post-yukito #2] [post-yukito #3]| [during yukito #1]

-touya: rapper/singer, 26, group leader, trainee for longest (6 years--15 to 21) because he didn’t have any proper musical training when he auditioned; wanted to become a musician to help make ends meet for his family. best rapper, ok singer, worst dancer. Is friendly enough for an idol but a little stoic but has lots of fans because he’s very good looking

-yamazaki: rapper/singer, 24, exceptionally good dancer and ok rapper, relatively terrible singer but had to take vocal lessons to improve after yukito left to help fill the gap; never fights with anyone, chaotic energy at almost all times, known for his smiley eyes; known for weirdly high iq

-eriol: singer, 22, classically trained/very good vocalist, TERRIBLE rapper, pretty good dancer, calmest/most polite out of the group, best “face of the group,” known for classic good looks, comes from rich family, bff/roomies with syaoran

-syaoran: singer, 22, second best vocalist behind eriol, not good rapper, pretty good dancer, sometimes gets called “mini touya” because they’re both a little surly and look alike (and is popular despite stoicism/attitude bc he’s cute), hardest on himself and known to be a perfectionist, bff/roomies with eriol, auditioned through global casting in hong kong, had to learn japanese, english, and korean in training

-their fans unironically call themselves “CLOWn.” 

-this is modeled much more after kpop boy groups/the kpop system in general, which i know is quite different from the jpop scene. 

====

[post-yukito #1]

Syaoran watched, holding his breath, as the cameraman counted down with his fingers from three for their cue. At zero, he bowed in perfect unison with his bandmates, rising back up with a practiced smile. Yukito had taught him that the eyes mattered the most--if they don’t crinkle a little, people won’t think it’s genuine, he’d said. Syaoran squeezed the muscles around his cheeks just a little bit tighter and swallowed back bile. He felt Yamazaki squeeze his elbow to his left, and realizing how tense his shoulders were, he took in a breath and tried to force himself to relax.

“Hello, we’re CLOW,” he chorused with the group, and he threw up a v-sign with his fingers, maintaining the fake-genuine smile. Yukito would have been to his right if he’d been here, and he tried not to think about how painfully naked his right shoulder felt. They’d been preparing for this for months, and even so, everything about this situation suddenly felt horribly wrong.

“Hi, CLOW!” the host, a chipper young woman with bright blue hair and purple contact lenses who’d recently made her solo debut a few months ago, exclaimed, turning briefly to them before facing the camera again. 

Syaoran briefly recalled the first time they’d been on this particular concert pre-show; it had been three weeks into their debut, and he’d been so nervous that he could hardly see straight. The interviewer then had been a young man, a fellow idol singer doing a three-month stint as the host for the show, and when the host had held the mic up to Syaoran’s face, he’d been totally speechless, his voice shot from nerves. His whole group--Eriol in particular--had given him hell about it for weeks afterward. Even Yukito, in all his sweet earnestness, had given him some good-natured ribbing about it. Only Touya had refrained, for one reason or another. 

“Today is a very exciting day--your first comeback in over six months with your new single, LOVETORN!” the host said, turning towards Touya. “Tell us, how are you feeling?”

Touya leaned into the mic, facing the camera and wearing a convincingly charming grin. “It feels amazing. We are so happy to be able to provide new music for our fans, who have been so loving and wonderful while we’ve been on our break. We only hope that our fans love the single with as much love as we poured into making it.”

“Well, within twenty-four hours of the music video’s release on YouTube, it already hit 70 million views, so I think we can say with certainty that your fans love the single!” the host chirped. “Can you tell us what the meaning behind this song is?”

Syaoran was relieved the mic did not go to him for this question; he’d have had a difficult time not rolling his eyes. The meaning was pretty clear, he thought. It was a song about wanting someone back. Touya and the producers had decided to capitalize off of the most painful moment in the band’s four-year history by writing a fucking song about the departure of the one member that had truly held the team together. 

Eriol, predictably, was a little more diplomatic in his response, for better or for worse. “Yes, it’s about the pain of being apart from your loved one for a prolonged period of time and life not being the same without them,” he said into the mic. He pushed up his glasses. “In our case, it’s about us being separated from our beloved CLOWNs for so long and wanting desperately to be reunited. And here we are today.”

The host smiled. “Such a sad song, but you’re all so happy to be here! How are you going to emote something so painful onstage?”

It was Syaoran’s turn to speak. All eyes were on him now, and taking an imperceptible half-second to compose himself, he turned on his megawatt smile once more. “It’s quite simple, really. We’ll just think about the times that inspired us to write this song in the first place. All the hardships, all the heartache--we’ll bring it all back onstage. And to that end,” he said, looking directly into the camera, “we’ve missed you very much.”

He hoped Yukito was watching, even though he knew he wasn’t. 

“That is lovely, and we can’t wait to see you perform. Yamazaki, would you like to kick off the performance?”

Yamazaki stuck his face into the camera with a wide grin. “Absolutely. You’re watching Music Centre, and get ready for CLOW’s comeback with our new single, LOVETORN, in three, two, one!”

“Cut!” The director shouted, and the cameras stopped rolling. “Great job, everyone. I love when we get everything we need in one take--after all that time away, you really are true professionals.”

The group bowed, murmuring thanks, and shuffled backstage toward the dressing rooms. 

“Good job, everyone,” Yoshiyuki Terada, the group’s manager, called, looking up from an iPad. “Take ten and then we’ll meet back here--you’re due onstage after this next performance.”

Syaoran made it into the dressing room first, and immediately, he grabbed his headphones out of the pocket of his hoodie hanging from the door and shoved them into his ears. The last thing he wanted to do right now was reflect with the band on that painful interview--not right before they had to go outside and bear their souls to the world for a four-minute performance. Just as he sat down on one of the sofas, though, he felt one of the earbuds being plucked out of his ear. 

He looked up indignantly to see Touya holding the earbud, who was staring down at him with his lips drawn into a disapproving frown. “Quick team meeting.”

Syaoran scowled, but he turned around and leaned the front of his torso against the back of the sofa to face the rest of the group. 

“Okay, guys,” Touya said, leaning against the vanity and crossing his arms. “First live performance of our comeback. How are we feeling?”

“Pretty good, now that the interview’s over,” Eriol said with a sigh. He reached down toward the floor to stretch his legs. “That was the hardest part for me.”

Yamazaki nodded. “Now that we don’t have to talk, I feel fine. It’s just a matter of doing what we’ve been practicing for the last two months now. It’s all muscle memory from here!”

Touya glanced at Syaoran next. Syaoran glared at him for a moment, but then he met Eriol’s softer gaze, and he deflated a little. “I’m--I’ll be fine. I’m not nervous.”

Touya pursed his lips. “You know that’s not what I’m asking.”

“I know.” Syaoran swallowed. “But I don’t know what else I can say.”

Touya regarded him in silence for a moment, and Syaoran knew without looking that Eriol and Yamazaki were watching the exchange with bated breath. Much to Syaoran’s relief, Touya let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s do a good job out there tonight. No mistakes. The choreography on this is a little different from what we’re used to, so everyone needs to be in the exact right place at the exact right time.”

Of course it’s different. We’re missing a fifth body.

“How about you, Touya? How are you feeling?” Yamazaki asked, fiddling with the zipper on one of his many pant pockets. 

Touya exhaled softly, and for the first time all night, he raised the corners of his lips in a small smile. “I’m okay. This feels right.”

It didn’t, though, Syaoran thought. Nothing felt right. But his bandmates were clearly so excited to be performing again, Yukito or no, and he wasn’t going to ruin that for them just because he didn’t feel ready. 

“All right, guys, bring it in,” Touya said, holding out his hand. Eriol, Yamazaki, and Syaoran joined. “On three, CLOW. One, two, three--”

“CLOW!” the four of them chimed, and Syaoran followed Touya out of the dressing room and back toward the stage.

[beepbeepdespair]

Coincidence - a [REDACTED] x Schmitty fanfic, part 1

(Note, added 25/1/24: this fic was written in 2021, it is now long abandoned, to be honest I don't know if I'll keep it up bc I'm not sure how I feel about the ship now. We'll see)

I am... so sorry about this. I had the idea and had to execute it. I don't use wattpad anymore so this is being inflicted on all of you instead. Probably going to aim for a chapter a day but if you want more just yell at me because it's not like I have anything better to do. After this next school week it's half-term so I'll have more time to write which is nice. Anyway couple more notes before we begin, this is a non-Covid AU obviously, Schmitty hasn't met [REDACTED] before apart from the kidnapping so he doesn't recognize him (the hosts are a big friend group but [REDACTED] isn't part of it because they might rat him out to the police), these are my personal interpretations of the characters including their sexualities (I see Schmitty as pan and [REDACTED] as gay) so don't harass me over it, if something doesn't line up with canon perfectly don't kill me I don't know everything under the sun about jackbox. Ok off we go this is so bad I'm sorry-

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

Cold. Cold cold cold cold cold. Really fucking cold. That's what Schmitty's train of thought sounded like as he trudged through the snow. Had it been up to his shins earlier? He wasn't sure anymore. All he knew was that he couldn't see a thing and he was lost. Lost to the point where it was almost impressive. If he'd stayed with the car he'd probably have been alright, but since when did he make logical decisions? Not today, certainly.

Ignoring the weather warning and going for a drive regardless wasn't one of his best choices, but it's not like you could blame him for it. Since the demand for his work had shot up since the third game came out, he'd been coming home at stupid hours of the morning and crashing on the couch without bothering to catch up on dinner. It felt like he lived in the recording studio now... and to the crew it felt like that too, since he only wore trousers in there once in a blue moon. Now that he had a precious day off he was desperate to get out and see something that wasn't that bloody microphone, and that was what he was doing out here.

But then of course Sod's law had kicked in and the snow had gotten heavier, and heavier, and heavier, until the car got stuck and nothing he could do would get it out. It was too far away from anywhere civilised to get a phone signal. He then made the critical mistake of getting impatient and venturing out on foot to find help instead of staying inside and cranking up the heating. By the time he'd realized how stupid that was, the car was as lost as him and he couldn't find it at all. Nice job Josh. Fucking idiot.

And now the bright white of the snow was blinding him and the cold was beginning to eat away at his feet to the point where he could barely move them. He really should have brought a map with him today, but of course he got cocky and thought he knew the area too well to need that. Turns out the world is very different with a white blanket over it. Much quieter too. As contradictory as it sounded, the silence was deafening him. He couldn't put up with this for much longer... but luckily, he didn't need to.

Suddenly the ground below him turned from white to grey, and he realized that it was a gravel path that someone had gone out of their way to clear of snow... possibly a driveway? He hoped so; a driveway meant a building and a building meant help. He smiled and followed the path as quickly as his shaking legs would allow him to, infinitely grateful to whoever had dug it out. As the path progressed it widened into what seemed to be a car park and he realized that it was indeed a driveway. For the first time in who knew how long, he looked up and then proceeded to gasp audibly in delight.

A hotel... with vacancies!

There was sure to be someone to ask for help here, and a place to stay while he warmed up was certainly welcome too. He could almost see himself in a big, big jacuzzi surrounded by attractive people and throwing back cocktails like nobody's business, forgetting what work even was... okay, maybe that was a bit too hopeful. The place did look a little run-down, but Schmitty was never the kind of person to judge a book by its cover. However, the longer he stood looking at the place, the more a bad feeling began to develop in his stomach.

As the euphoria of the idea of being saved wore off, he realized that the vibes of this place weren't the best. For some reason there was an element of deja vu too: he just couldn't shake off the thought that he'd been there before, even though he was sure he didn't recognize it. He'd never been this far in this direction before and the place was so distinctive that it would have been impossible to forget it. As a man who normally listened to his gut, he was almost tempted to walk away, but then his brain took over. What were the odds of finding another building in this vast, white landscape anytime soon? Definitely not high, and he wasn't sure his body could last any longer out here. Therefore, he decided to ignore these bad feelings and stroll right in... except he promptly passed out from the cold and landed face-first in the snow with a soft crunch. He probably shouldn't have stood still for so long.

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

Okay that's chapter one down. Next one will be from [REDACTED]'s POV. Might do it later today, maybe tomorrow, who knows. It will happen though. I promise you. Anyway hope you enjoyed that!! If any of you know anyone who likes jackbox and wouldn't mind showing them this that would be lovely ^^

[bitterlemonwater]

Would you ever consider writing something with Stephen Strange and Peter? 🥺 The rarepair is truly lacking and I feel like you could make something perfectly smutty out of post-Endgame taking Peter under Stephen's (magical) wing, or doctor AU

Endg*me who? I don’t know her. Smutty non-powered doctor au (that’s much more of a club au than a proper doctor au) it is. I’ve only written Stephen x Peter once before so?? Hope you like it anon bby

Peter’s age is unspecified, Strange has post-Sorcerer Supreme facial hair bc I said so, hand jobs, non-graphic but explicitly mentioned violence (Peter gets mugged in the beginning), clubbing, inaccurate medical procedures?? i’m not a doctor and have never worked in a hospital lol. 5k

—-

Peter wakes up in a hospital bed. 

He remembers leaving his apartment. He remembers zipping his wallet into one jacket pocket and slipping his phone into the other, his hand wrapped around it. He remembers turning all the right corners and dodging a cyclist and sniffling in the chilly weather. 

He doesn’t remember why or how he—

Oh, no, wait. Yeah. He remembers that.

The three thugs that had caught him by the hood of his jacket and yanked him into a murky alleyway between two run down hole-in-the-walls, both of which were closed for the night by the time Peter finally had time to run his errands. Milk and printer paper from a 24/7 Target hadn’t seemed like they would be a problem, but. That’s a sketchy neighborhood in New York, he supposes. 

He’d handed over his wallet without a fight (because contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t actually have a death wish) and was giving up his phone when May started calling him. 

Apparently the buzzing and loud ringtone (what? He has unfortunately selective hearing—sometimes it just gets tuned out and he needs volume to catch his attention) and potential red alert freaked the guys out, because one swatted his phone out of his grip and before he could raise his hands in surrender, someone decked him in the face.

And now he’s in a hospital bed. 

The window shades are half opened but there’s no light coming in, and the light in the room is off, only a dim lamp illuminating everything—so it must still be nighttime. Hopefully the same night, but Peter won’t push his luck. 

His head throbs like hell and he sits up slowly. The chair beside his bed keeps his shoes and jacket in reassuring view, but other than that, he’s been blessed to keep his regular clothes on. (Definitely the same night, then. Maybe he’ll only have been out for a few hours?)

For a few minutes, Peter just sits still on the bed, breathing, rubbing his temples. He really hopes he doesn’t have a concussion. This one hospital visit is going to suck to pay off—especially if he was brought in by an ambulance—and he’d rather not add follow up appointments to the bill. 

It’s not long before a nurse stops by. He turns on the lights and it makes Peter cringe, but not as awfully as he’s heard concussions usually make bright lights. There’s still hope, then.

The nurse asks him how he’s feeling and if he’s in any pain, then takes down his information, explains that he’s only been out for three hours and that it’s currently one in the morning. Peter tells him about getting mugged and he responds by saying they’ll have an officer come down to talk to him after he is released from care. 

The nurse finishes by asking if there’s anyone Peter would like to call. Peter debates saying no, but he can already hear May yelling at him if he tries to walk himself home after this, so he gives them Ned’s number and lays back down. 

“Alright. Doctor Strange will be here look you over in a moment.” The nurse says. Doctor Strange? Doctor, Strange. Strange. Why does that sound familiar?

While the nurse gives him two pills for the pain, Peter tries to recall where he’s heard that name before, wracking his brain and only coming up with incomplete thoughts and almost-resurrected memories. He knows he’s heard that before. He just can’t figure out where.

He’s already decided to awkwardly ask the doctor if they’ve met before when the door opens again.

In steps a man half turned away from him, tall and not quite broad but definitely fit and muscled under his white coat. He’s wearing pale blue scrubs and has a stethoscope around his neck, clipboard in his hands. His hair is brown with the slightest bit of grey, that much Peter can see, with killer cheekbones.

It’s not until the guy finishes whatever quiet conversation he was having and turns towards Peter, uncapping a pen and finally facing the younger that it clicks. 

Shit.

Three weeks earlier

Usually after a rough week of classes and work, Peter is exhausted. He’s tired and he just wants to sleep for fourteen hours, then have food delivered directly to his bed so he doesn’t have to get up for a full twenty four. 

This week it is the opposite. He’s keyed up and anxious to do something. He feels a little detached from himself, and he wants to do something outrageous. He wants an adrenaline rush that will take all his extra energy with it once it fades.

MJ suggests partaking in a protest somewhere, but a quick search tells him there aren’t any nearby that night, and not that Peter doesn’t feel just as passionate about good causes and taking action, but standing with a sign and chanting with a crowd isn’t really the thrill he’s looking for to vent how wound up he is. 

Ned suggests clubbing. Peter likes that idea a lot better. 

He loses his best friend within the first twenty minutes they spend at the bar. It’s not too high end that it actually requires an entrance fee, but it’s a respectable enough place that they definitely wouldn’t have been able to afford more than two drinks.

Which is why they got plenty tipsy before they went into the club. 

Which is why after attractive strangers keep buying Peter shots and sweet bubbly things (as if he can’t handle his liquor, but whatever, he won’t say no to free alcohol) he’s hammered. 

Not black-out wasted, of course. Peter knows his limits well enough to know exactly when he’s having fun, but not too clumsy or cloudy to get in real trouble. But he’s definitely drunk. Definitely, definitely drunk.

Normally Peter isn’t the type to be comfortable in a crowded club full of sweaty bodies, everyone in short dresses and tight button ups that show off all the round and firm parts.

On that note, he hadn’t really had much for a “sexy” outfit other than a blush pink satin t-shirt that MJ said made him look “fuckable” and fitted black chinos. 

But normally Peter doesn’t feel like he’ll explode if he doesn’t find some way to work off pent up nerves. So when girls put their hands on his shoulders and roll and sway their hips, and random guys grab him by the waist and pull his ass flush to their fronts—he laughs and grinds back. 

He flits between partners for the better part of an hour, really only stopping to get free water from the bar or have various old fashioned, rocks, shot, and cocktail glasses slid his way—or to go to the bathroom.

He sees Ned a couple times, always across the room with a girl practically melting into him. Ned’s always had a better sense of rhythm than Peter, but that’s the nice thing about club music. 

You don’t really need rhythm. You just have to move and you’ll either fit the song anyways or someone else will help you along. 

He only takes a few sips of each drink he’s offered, and some he does refuse with a cheeky smile about not getting drunk, even though he’s very drunk already.

Peter’s just left a man (and a half empty glass) at the bar, one who’s already bought him two very sparkling blue drinks and who definitely watches his ass each time he walks away, when he runs into someone. Literally, bumps into them, and though they’re barely thrown off balance and Peter is mid not-sexy-at-all apology, the person steadies both hands on his waist. 

They’re nice hands. Firm but not uncomfortably possessive or rough, pliable enough to move with the way Peter shifts and sways without letting even an ounce of space get under his grip. 

“Hello there,” the man says. Peter looks up and sees a goddamn devilishly handsome face, well trimmed facial hair and piercing grey-green eyes. Probably mid 30’s. Sharply defined cheekbones and jaw. Hot. 

“Hi,” Peter giggles. Giggles like a ditzy idiot, but the man doesn’t seem to mind. 

“You’re a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” He says, and he rakes his gaze up and down Peter’s body in the most shameless way. Peter grins and bites his lip, not shying away from eye contact when the man looks up again. 

“You’re not too bad lookin’ yourself.” 

The man grins, then tugs Peter forward by the waist. Peter doesn’t hesitate to grind forward, one hand on the guy’s chest and the other rising to a tall shoulder, swaying and stepping into the man’s space. 

It earns him a pleased smirk, and the guy drags him closer, walks him back into the messy crowd so they can dance. 

He’s hot, ok, and Peter’s been getting groped and felt up for the last hour and a half, so when he feels a sizable bulge press against him and moves flush with the solid body in front of, beside, behind him—sue him, he gets hard. Really hard. 

Really, really fucking hard. 

As in, he needs to get off in the bathroom right fucking now. 

“Having fun, baby?” The guy asks. His mouth is right next to Peter’s ear, hips rubbing against Peter’s ass, and one hand reaches down to boldly cup Peter’s clothed dick. 

Peter whines and nods, pulling off the guy, fully intending to abandon ship and jerk off in a hopefully not too gross toilet stall. The man grabs his wrist as he steps away, but doesn’t drag him back or try to guide him elsewhere. He just follows Peter through the crowd, landing them both in the bathroom. 

When Peter turns around with the goal of seductively asking if the man wants to help him out or not, he’s met by plush lips rushing to his own. The guy tastes like hard alcohol, like whiskey and bourbon and nothing like the marshmallow vodka Peter and Ned used to get tipsy or the sweet bubbly things Peter’s been offered all night. 

The man walks them through the bathroom door and locks it behind them, as if there aren’t stalls they could easily slip into. For some reason the lights are actually dimmer inside the restroom and the music has no problem slipping through the crack under the door, deafening outside but loud enough to mostly cover up the wet sounds of their kissing.

Peter kisses him hard and messy, wrapping his arms around the guy’s neck and grinding forward, trying to get some friction on his aching cock. The man smirks into the kiss, nipping at Peter’s bottom lip and licking from the bottom of his chin back into his mouth, one hand venturing downwards to cup his erection again.

The man’s hands are so steady, nothing sloppy or uncoordinated about him. He doesn’t tremble or slip up at all, doesn’t hold too tight, doesn’t move to fast but he doesn’t slow down for a second to let Peter breathe. He rubs at Peter’s dick through his slacks, fingers mapping out the shape and digging his palm right where the tip is, making Peter keen into the kiss. 

It doesn’t take long for the guy to get tired with feeling him up over his pants. He unbuttons the chinos easily and tugs down the zipper, slipping his hand under Peter’s boxers too. 

His hand isn’t particularly cold or hot but god does it feel good, having smooth, solid skin to rub against. The man strokes him with purpose a few times, not teasing him or trying to draw out any more of the moans that Peter graciously supplies. Flicking his wrist over the head, cupping and squeezing his balls, tight but not too tight, easing the way with precome. 

And then he stops, just holding, and with a desperate moan Peter picks up where he left off, grinding into the man’s fist, thrusting his hips up and forward into the friction.

He gets close embarrassingly fast (or it would be embarrassing if he could care), his legs shaking and arms tense and abdominal clenched as pressure and pleasure quickly pool in the pit of his stomach.

Peter whimpers into the kiss, all tongue and want, threading his fingers in the older man’s brown (possibly black? It’s dark in here) hair while he’s squeezed tightly against hard muscle by an arm around his waist. 

“Gonna-”

“Do it. Come on, baby, wanna see your pretty face when you do,” the man cuts him off. Peter nods, just nods and bites his lip and lets his head fall back, baring his neck and face to the world (or, really, just to the man jerking him off) as he tips over the edge. 

He moans so loudly that if someone was waiting on the other side of the door they’d hear him over the music. He doesn’t care, though. It’s one of the best orgasms he’s ever had, the build up and being pushed over by such dexterous hands with that deep voice groaning and whispering praise in his ear. 

He soaks his already precome-ruined boxers with release and slumps against the man, needing a second to breathe and collect himself. The guy lets him lean for a few moments, but then turns him around, drawing Peter’s back against him and pinning the smaller man between himself and the counter. 

It’s probably a gross counter, classy bar or otherwise. Peter doesn’t care. He folds his arms on it and rests his forehead on the backs of his hands, letting the man behind him grind into his ass. 

Bare, if Peter picks that up right, the hardly audible shuffle of a belt and zipper, the much more defined feeling cock rubbing against him. He doesn’t care about that, either. If his ass gets stained by this gorgeous Greek god’s come, then he can just borrow Ned’s jacket to wrap around his waist when they leave. 

Will it be embarrassing? Yes. Will Ned let him live it down? Not likely.

Will it be worth it? Yes. 

And it’s not that he’s not present and interested, but he’s definitely a little floaty and the songs outside get caught swimming in his head, and he has a feeling it takes the man longer to come than Peter thinks it does.

Either way, when the guy does climax, he pulls away from Peter and catches it in his hands, washing it away in the sink beside the younger’s nearly collapsed body. 

“You ok there?” The man asks. Even shouting over the music, his voice sounds soft and gentle. Peter nods. 

“‘m fine. Better than fine. That felt great, erm, thanks,” he laughs, standing straight and looking at the guy again. The man smiles at him and pecks his cheeks, then his lips, then smirks. 

“Made a mess of your underwear, though,” he quips.

Peter groans and wiggles around the guy, stealing some paper towels to try and clean up inside his pants (which would have been awkward and a little confusing, as for how much modesty he should take, if the guy didn’t plaster himself to Peter’s back once more, hook his chin over Peter’s shoulder and watch so intently that Peter started to get hard again) before zipping and buttoning back up. 

“I’m Stephen, by the way. Doctor Stephen Strange.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “Doctor? Wow, that’s really impressive,” he drawls, not really believing the man. One of the first guys to buy him a drink had also claimed to be a doctor, but a few minutes later when his girlfriend showed up, she happened to mention his job at a grocery store. 

Not that Peter has anything against grocery store employees. Ned worked at Walmart before getting into his field and Peter has probably worked at every convenience store and gas station in Queens. 

(And not because he couldn’t hold one down, but because he needed five jobs at once over the summer to be able to pay for his first year of room and board.)

The guy just smiles, not confessing to being a liar but not taking offense that Peter implies he is. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” 

Peter hums. “Peter. I’m a photographer,” he winks at the man and unlocks the bathroom door. Stephen guides him by the wrist (and it would almost be annoying that he doesn’t hold Peter’s hand properly or let him walk on his own, if it wasn’t hot as fuck) back to the bar.

In place of ordering, Stephen just holds up two fingers towards the bartender. She nods at him and turns to grab two shot glasses, and Peter doesn’t have time to unpack why she knows what he wants. 

“Photography, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Sounds riveting.”

“Oh, it is. Nothing as exciting as taking pictures of other people doing exciting things.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“Doctor, huh?”

“Mhm.”

“Are you a real doctor?”

“I am.”

Peter swivels on his bar stool, staring the man down. It would be more interrogating and honest to his attempt to read the man if simply looking at Stephen didn’t make his lips twitch in a smile. “Where’d you go to school?” 

“Pre-med in NYU. The rest is a secret.” Stephen winks. Peter narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything else. 

“So, is that Peter with a last name?” Stephen adds as the drinks are delivered to them. Honey colored with no bubbles and perfect circles of ice in each. Peter takes a sip and lets it roll around his mouth.

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?”

“I told you I’m a doctor.”

“Perfect cover story,” Peter raises, making an exaggeratedly suspicious face. Stephen laughs at him, probably not because he’s actually amusing but because the man is also drunk. 

“Ok, what about Peter with a phone number?”

Peter can’t stop from smiling. A phone number? Like, a ‘we could totally hook up again and get further than a hand job in a bathroom’ kind of phone number? He tries to keep up the game of not acting as enthusiastic as he is, though. “Well, since I still don’t know if you’re a serial killer, maybe you should give me your number.”

“Really? After I got you off like that?”

“Well, actually I got me off, thanks,” Peter muses cheekily, “but… yep. Precautions.”

That earns him a fond laugh. “Alright, alright. ‘Precautions’. Here,” Stephen snatches a napkin from under his drink and a pen from over the counter of the bar, confirming Peter’s theory that they man is definitely a regular. 

“So you come here often?” Peter says. He realizes the joke a second later than Stephen does and blushes at his own cheesiness while the man shakes his head and laughs. 

“I do, yes.” 

“Hmm. Doctor’s salary and you go to bars that don’t overcharge you for everything? Sounds sketchy.” Peter quips. Stephen rolls his eyes and hands over the napkin, ten numbers in way too nice handwriting bleeding through.

“A friend of mine owns the place. I like to support her now and again.” He explains. Peter nods, accepting the reasoning. 

“That doesn’t explain why you have nice handwriting, though.” He continues, examining the napkin. Stephen laughs at him. 

“I’m taking that as a compliment.” 

Peter grins back.

They talk for almost an hour, broken up by breaks to dance or get more drinks—which are just water, for Peter. He knows when he’s hit his limit, thankfully—and by the time Ned is falling over Peter’s shoulder, leaning against the counter and saying he’s ready to go home and lament about the girl he’s just fallen in love with, Peter thinks he likes Stephen Strange quite a lot. 

He says so, as he’s leaving, and waves the napkin with the man’s number for emphasis. Stephen just grins, tilts his head and raises his glass and shouts over the crowd that he expects to hear from Peter soon.

It’s only when Peter decides “soon” can totally be three in the morning of that same night that he realizes he somehow managed to lose the napkin. 

He’s upset, but not devastated. Just disappointed. Ned tells him they can both get over their narrowly claimed soulmates (i.e. the girl he danced with all night who was leaving to go back to Germany the next morning) by having a star wars marathon and ordering take-out. 

Which, yeah. Was a pretty good remedy, and after a few days, Peter completely (or, mostly completely) forgot about Stephen Strange.

Present time

Peter’s brain stops processing. God, just the sight of the other man makes him antsy to move, having to consciously stop his hips from shifting. He wants to kill the awkwardness. “Uh-”“Peter.” Stephen beats him to it. He cringes slightly.

“Um, h-hi. Hi? How, uh, how are you?” 

That gets him a slightly confused, if amused, eyebrow raise. (Killer cheekbones and those lips Peter assumed he’d never see again) “The question is actually how are you, seeing as you’re the one in the hospital bed.” 

“Oh! Right, right. I’m good. Fine.” This is too awkward. This is kind of painful, actually. 

“Mhm,” the doctor couldn’t sound less convinced, “How’s your head? I’m sure the nurse told you, they did an emergency CT scan when you were first brought in, and you don’t seem to have any injuries beyond the couple of scrapes on your face and side. Let you keep your clothes on since the worst of it might be a minor concussion. Let’s check that over though, yeah?”

Peter just nods slowly. Stephen comes to sit beside him, using another chair opposite the one housing his jacket and shoes. 

He watches as Stephen writes in a few boxes on the paper on his clipboard, but all Peter can think about is that those careful, nimble hands had given him one of the best orgasms ever. 

“Are you in any pain? Any sensitivity to light, headache, confusion, dizziness? Are you nauseous at all? Any memory loss?” 

Peter responds dutifully to the questions. He has a slight headache, and the lights bothered him when they first turned on but overall he’s feeling a lot better. An ache on his whole left side, but he assumes that’s from how he fell and landed when he got knocked out. 

Stephen writes down all of his answers, checking and marking boxes. When he’s done, he sets the clipboard down and beckons Peter closer. He listens to the younger man’s heart, checks his eyes with a light, and peels off some bandages that Peter hadn’t even noticed on his cheek, reapplying fresh gauze and tape with a new layer of antibiotic cream. 

“Well, I’d say you’re in the clear for a concussion, but you’ll definitely need to take it easy for a week or so. Lots of fluids, lots of rest, as low stress as you can manage. No rigorous physical activity. You’re a lucky kid, Peter Parker.” 

Peter cringes, then lets his head loll to the side. He’s tired and the pain medication is making him a little loopy and he’d rather think about anything else than what his bill is going to be for all of this. 

“Well shit. You know my last name now. Hope you don’t serial murder me.” He hums. He reaches for his jacket and slips it on. Stephen has the decency (especially impressive considering he probably thinks Peter ditched him) to humor him.

“Still on about that? I thought you’d be convinced of my authenticity by now. I’ve got a white lab coat and everything. I’m wearing scrubs.” The man says, whispering scandalized at the end. It makes Peter giggle. He’s a little amazed, actually.

The man he met at the bar was nice, sure, but he’d also very clearly had the goal of getting into Peter’s pants. It’s odd to see the same man, who’d later taken such a serious, confident tone at the club still being playful.

“Speaking of, I thought you said you were a surgeon? Very impressive, very renowned, etcetera. Why are you giving me a… non, surgical check up?” Peter asks. He looks longingly at his shoes, kind of wishing they would just float over to his feet without him having to put them on.

Stephen doesn’t seem off put by Peter’s phrasing. “All of our neurologists are swamped at the moment. They called in some off duty general practitioners to cover, but a personal friend of mine, Christine, was supposed to see you and couldn’t, so she asked me.” He leans back in his chair, then, studying Peter in the same shameless, confident way (albeit, not in the lustful way) he had at the bar. 

“I must say, I certainly wasn’t expecting to see you here. Or again, at all.” His tone lilts, pressing Peter to explain why he never called after they hit it off (and got off). 

“Yeah, about that,” Peter mumbles. He grabs his sneakers but doesn’t put them on yet, figuring it would be rude to get up or turn his back while he’s explaining. “I’m sorry. I was honestly going to call you but, I uhm..” 

“Lost the napkin?”

Peter winces, then nods and hangs his head in defeat. “I lost the napkin.”

Stephen laughs, sitting forward again, and it surprises Peter. On the rare occasion he’s seen someone he’s (intentionally) turned down again, they’ve usually been… a lot more aggressive and unhappy. 

His confusion must show, because Stephen looks at him, all sharp features and unapologetically confident and somehow just soft enough to be sincere. “I figured it was something like that, considering you had a pretty good incentive to contact me.” 

Peter narrows his eyes, but it’s not real heat. “‘Pretty good incentive’ he says. My, you’re just full of yourself, huh? That’s gotta be some kind of doctor syndrome or something. There was a Criminal Minds episode like that.” Stephen groans at his response. 

“Criminal minds?”

“What? It’s a good show!” 

“It’s completely unrealistic. Every episode has the exact same plot.”

Peter gasps, offended. “They do not!” Stephen looks unimpressed.

“There’s a bad guy, he’s killed people in a particularly gruesome way and now he’s kidnapped some poor girl. Time crunch. He’s a white man between his 20’s and 40’s, one of the ‘agents’ has some dramatic personal tie, there are hints at a subplot, Reed says something quirky and beats them all at cards on the plane. Sound familiar?” 

Peter gapes at him for a solid three seconds before composing himself, crossing his arms and huffing. “It’s still entertaining..” he pouts, petulant. Stephan rolls his eyes but chuckles at the display. 

“Well, I’m sure it will keep you plenty entertained while you get your rest. And hydration. But try to steer clear of the strawberry daiquiris.” He says, smirking as he reorders the papers on his clipboard. Peter relents, sighing, and turns to put on his shoes.

“‘s not like I picked ‘em out and bought them all..” he grumbles quietly.

When he slowly rises from the bed, Stephen is still there. Standing on the opposite side of the cot, staring at him. Peter feels his cheeks flush and dear god, he cannot get hard thinking about the last time they were alone in a room together. 

He’s trying to think of some way to diffuse the tension, ask about leaving or paperwork (or the bill, dear god), the police report he needs to file or about his friend picking him up—but Stephen beats him to it. 

“Would you like to have dinner?” 

Peter stares. What was that?

“Huh?”

“I said, would you like to have dinner?” Stephen repeats, patient and unflinching, nothing modest or humorous to lighten the air. 

Peter stutters, then wets his lip and bites it, then shifts from foot to foot before nodding. 

“Yes. I’d like to have dinner with you.”

Stephen smiles. “Great.” He steps around the bed just as Peter does, bringing them closer together. “Now, technically I have your whole file right here, and I could just get your phone number off of that. But that’d be wholly unprofessional of me.”

Peter snorts, having to step back and cover his mouth so he can laugh at the man’s utter brashness. “Yeah, you’re completely correct. That would be very unprofessional. And probably illegal, I think.”

“Oh, definitely illegal.” 

Peter giggles, but then Stephen is handing him the pen he’d been writing with. Peter takes it, still grinning, yet furrows his brows in confusion. “I don’t have any paper.” 

Stephen smirks. Then he holds out his hand, palm up. When it clicks what he’s requesting and Peter snaps up to look at him, there’s a very calm, controlled smile, carefully containing a wild amount of self-satisfaction on Stephen’s face. 

“So I don’t lose it.” 

Peter rolls his eyes so dramatically it hurts, but he takes Stephen’s hand, reluctantly flattered, holding it steady in one of his own and writing with the other. Though it’s more like the older man’s one palm holds both of his stable with how unwavering it is. 

When he’s finished writing his number, he hands the pen back. “Make sure you don’t wash that hand,” he quips. Stephen hums, waving an arm past to guide Peter out of the room. 

“I promise I’ll take good care of it. The nurse will deliver your paperwork to the waiting room, and there will be an officer there as well. You’re very welcome to stay until your ride arrives.” He says. Before Peter can answer, the man is swooping down, planting a gentle kiss to his temple, and then before he can react, Stephen is disappearing down the hallway. 

Peter waits in a mildly comfortable chair and picks up his packet, report and bills and prescription of rest, all in a daze. He’s still in it when he files his report with officer Rogers and when he gets in Ned’s car around two thirty in the morning, answering a million questions and finally tipping his head back against the seat, relishing the dark and the busy quiet of New York late at night.

Two days later, after he’s got a new phone and a new wallet (and a loan in May’s good credit name to pay for his hospital visit), he gets a text that threatens to buzz out of the pocket which barely manages to muffle it.

Unknown: Dinner, Thursday. 8 o’clock. I’ll pick you up. Sound good?

Peter grins and makes a new contact.

You don’t know my address though?

Stephen: I’m sure you’ll tell me.

Fair enough. I can do Thursday at 8.

Stephen: Perfect.

Then, a moment later:

Stephen: Wear that pink shirt again, and I’ll let you pick the venue. Deal?

Peter blushes even though there’s no one there to see it, biting the inside of his cheek not to smile dumbly at his phone. 

Deal.

[randomk-imagines]

Starlight

words: 1.8k

genre: fluff (as always bc apparently that’s all i write)

summary: Jisung forces you out of your house at 1:30am so he can watch a meteor shower, but ends up being distracted by you

gif creds

You groggily stumble out of your house to a waiting Jisung in his car. It was currently 1:28am and you have no idea why Jisung suddenly wanted to go for a drive. It was mid-July, but the wind was blowing making it cold. 

You had been dating Jisung for about a month at this point, however, you had been best friends since preschool so you didn’t really care that you were currently in sweatpants and a hoodie. The hood over your head to cover up the bed hair you were rocking. 

From your front porch, you can vaguely make out a brightly smiling Jisung who also had the hood to his hoodie pulled up.

“Please tell me again why you woke me up and forced me out of my house?” you grumble as you climb in his car. 

“It’s a secret,” he says.

“I swear if you just wanted some company to go to the 24-hour convenience store again, I’m hopping out of this car right now.” 

“I promise that’s not why,” he scrunches his nose as he’s pulling out of your driveway. He only did that twice and you bought something too by the way!

The car jostles a bit as it hits the street due to the uneven pavement and it makes the two of you bump around. While you’re used to it, your groggy mind and a little less than pleasant attitude towards your boyfriend made you more annoyed. “You can go to sleep while I’m driving. It’ll be a little,” he says. He turns the volume of the radio to a low hum so it doesn’t suddenly jolt you away when a random pop song plays. You just slouch down in the seat, folding your arms in front of yourself and lean against the window.

You’re not sure how long Jisung had been driving or how long you’d been asleep when you feel Jisung lightly shake by your shoulder. “We’re here,” he says. You open your eyes to see practically nothing. It’s not until your eyes adjust that you notice the plethora of trees and a mountainside cliff in front of you. 

“Why are we here?” you ask, confused as to why you’re practically in the middle of nowhere.

“There’s supposed to be a giant meteor shower tonight at 3am and I really wanted to see it. I wanted to get away from Seoul’s light pollution so I could see it clearly,” he smiles brightly. You glance at the time on his dashboard. 2:12.

He opens the door and climbs out. You sigh and do the same. The moment you open the door, you get hit with a cold breeze. “Jisung, it’s freezing oh my god. Can we please go home?” you pout.

“I came prepared!”

He goes to the back of his car to open the trunk. He pulls out a bundle of blankets then quickly comes over to your side of the car. “I know how much of a freeze baby you are, so I picked up some blankets from Costco a few days ago,” he beams.

“You really planned ahead,” As grumpy as you are from the random late night, impromptu drive, you can’t help but smile at your boyfriend. He really does care and look out for you and makes sure you’re comfortable in any situation he, more often than not, drags you in. 

He hands you a blanket and you gratefully wrap it around yourself as he heads to the front hood and sets the rest down on top. You follow him and he hurriedly starts laying down two fluffy blankets to cushion the hard, cold metal hood. He then pats the blankets while looking at you, indicating you could sit. 

His car isn’t big or tall compared to others, but you still struggle to jump up. Maybe it was because you didn’t dare take off the blanket wrapped around you and kept your arms inside, or maybe it was because you were just a weak jumper, but each time you tried hopping on, you pathetically slid off, not even making it an inch on the hood. You huff, annoyed because you just want to sit on the damn hood, but your weak ass legs can’t do their job.

Jisung just laughs as he fixes the skewed blankets then comes to stand in front of you, gently gripping your waist. You’re glad it’s almost 3am so he couldn’t see your cheeks turning pink at his sudden closeness. 

He bends down slightly and tells you to jump. You do as you’re told. He lifts you up as you jump so you end up higher than before and he gently settles you down on the hood of the car. “Thanks,” you mumble, hiding your face in the blanket, a little embarrassed. He nods and proceeds to jump up on the hood with ease. He ends up right next to you, your shoulders and thighs touching, but he doesn’t seem to notice, too busy gathering up the rest of the blankets. He lays one down to cover the both of your legs and wraps the last blanket around the both of your shoulders. You smile shyly at him, not used to the extreme closeness but glad for the warmth radiating off of him.

While you have been dating for a little, the two of you still shied away from a lot of skinship. The switch from best friends to being in a relationship still a little awkward. You’ve held hands of course, but other than that, he kept a little distance. He was shy. He always was, but you’ve come to realize he was also cautious and a little nervous around you so you let him go at his own pace. You were his first relationship, but it still made you a little self-conscious. You’d dated a few other guys before but they didn’t last long, nor did you have as strong of feelings towards them as you do Jisung so the fact that he doesn’t initiate skinship made you feel like you were doing something wrong.

“Oh my god did you see that!” he exclaimed, breaking you from your thoughts. You quickly glanced up, only catching the very end of the bright streak. It’s not long that you see another flash of light go across the sky. And then another, and then another. The sky starting to light up with the flashes of shooting stars flying through the dark night. 

It was honestly one of the most beautiful things you’d seen. Some of the stars were bright, leaving sparkling tails in their wake, while some of them were small and disappeared almost as soon as they came. 

You’d been staring up at the flash of light in awe for so long that you don’t even realize Jisung had stopped looking up and started looking at you. He initially glanced down at you after you let out a soft “Woah,” when you saw a giant streak of light, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you after that.

The constant falling stars lit up the sky ever so slightly, but enough for him to clearly see your side profile. He thought you were beautiful and he was entranced. He completely ignored the sole reason he brought you out here in favour of watching you. He doesn’t realize his hand had started moving until he sees it gently cup your cheek. 

You jump, not expecting the sudden hand near your face, but quickly realize it’s your boyfriend's hand. You turn to him, about to ask him what’s up, but the way he’s looking at you keeps your mouth shut. 

He has a small smile playing on his lips and a soft gaze in his eyes. You notice him leaning forward just the slightest and butterflies erupt from your stomach.

“Jisung?” you ask in a quiet voice, not wanting to disturb the tranquil atmosphere. 

He keeps leaning forward until his forehead rests against your own, his face just centimeters from your own. He glances down at your lips for a split second before looking back up at your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

You nervously swallow the lump in your throat. It’s not your first kiss. Not by far, but it’s your first kiss with Jisung. The boy you’ve know since he was a whole head shorter than you before he hit puberty and shot up a good 10 centimeters. The boy you’ve seen get so nervous he dropped all his notecards in front of the class while giving a presentation. The boy you helped up from the ground after being picked on by the older kids in elementary school because he was playing by himself at recess. The boy who’s currently your boyfriend of a little less than a month and always takes you on random excursions. The boy who’s looking at you with such fondness in his gaze, yet a hint of nervousness peaking through. 

You nod your head just the slightest. He feels it more than he sees it but that’s all he needs. He fully leans in to connect his lips with yours and your eyes flutter shut. The nervousness in your stomach being replaced by excited tingles.

The kiss is nothing more than just a press of your lips, but it doesn’t fail to make you giddy.

You pull away after a few seconds but keep your faces close. You can see him smiling brightly and it makes you smile too.

“I really like you, y/n,” he blurts out. He’s thought about kissing you since freshman year, even more so when he finally had the guts to ask you to be his girlfriend. He was always too nervous before because he didn’t want to mess it up so badly that you end up dumping him over it. He wanted it to be perfect and planned it out numerous times in his head. He was so lost in the moment that his question slipped out. He wanted to take it back, this definitely not being what he had planned out, but it was too late. He was so surprised when you nodded your head, but he didn’t want to back out then and went for it. Whenever he gets nervous, he just speaks everything and anything that’s currently on his mind. 

You giggle at him. You see his cheeks redden, embarrassed at what he said. “Well, I’d hope you like me. We are dating, aren’t we?” you tease.

He scrunches his eyes closed, mentally bashing himself for being an idiot. He only opens them when he feels your own hand rest on his neck. You quirk your eyebrow, silently asking if you could kiss him. He understands and lightly nods his head.

You lean in, a smile still playing on your lips, as you gently press your lips to his, the sky lights up behind you from the multitude of falling stars. The chilly night long forgotten.

[matildastuartsold]

hshq task twelve: a timeline

it reads as a semi lil self para’s and part news report...bc i didn’t wanna self para as a 3 year old. tw: abortion, implied drug used, mentions of underage, mentions of age differences, image issues, pregnancy, mentions of possible grooming, body image issues, possible signs of bulimia, 

december 19th, 1997

for the third time in the last four, almost five years, the town crier of edinburgh stood just inside the gates of holyrood announcing the birth of a third princess, named matilda. 

june 18th, 2001

at three years old, princess matilda made her first public appearance with her family at the royal highland show. the littlest princess made her appearance well known running off excitedly with yells of “maude-y!” following her, showing off her cartwheeling skills, and waving at everyone who looked especially those with a camera. 

november 30th, 2005 

she doesn’t know a life without the media and having to parade around them. like today, skipping through st. andrew’s day activities some of her earliest memories surrounded people with cameras desperately clicking and yelling the names of her mum and dad, her sisters and her. matilda liked it though, she could simply become the only name they yelled with a simple smile or a wave. she liked it, but she was tired of being called matilda. she didn’t want to be called matilda, she wanted to be called tilly, like her friends all called her. it’s why she turned around with a frown at the reporter who yelled matilda. “i’m not matilda! my name is tilly!” crossing her arms across her chest, she stuck her tongue out annoyed at the her full name. even with her mother and father’s scold of “matilda!” and her tilly let her father scoop her up in his arms making a face at the paparazzi as she was carried away. 

january 4th, 2010

“but i don’t want to go to gordonstoun!” not that even mattered, ever since her mother became a queen last year it was never even worth putting in her own thoughts, not that it ever had been. now though it was going against the queen, not just her mum.  tilly just didn’t want to go to gordonstoun with her sisters. it seemed so boring. still the press release was already out, trunks already in her room ready to be back. “if i have to go someone will regret it!” 

september 19th, 2011

crushes were nice, all the boys in her year, the year above her, some even in margot’s year paying her attention, she’d be dumb if she didn’t enjoy it. so what if she kept sneaking out with them to smoke cigarettes and drink beers on the roof. she likes the attention from it. what was the school going to do? make her do laps? please, she wouldn’t do it and they couldn’t make her. so she found herself giggling at whatever connaugh mcdaniels was saying and took the sip of beer he was offering, because all eyes were on her in a way that they hadn’t been before.

april 31st, 2013

“i’m the fucking may queen!” throwing her head back in laughter, tilly twirled around the flower crown a top her head never moving. sneaking out to go to beltane, was the smartest decision she’d made in a while. falling back against her favorite duke to be she’d been going almost all the way with frequently, she took the flask from her best friend, georgia, taking a far too long sip of the vodka. she was happily drunk, feeling the brisk spring air on the hill hit her. she didn’t care about the obvious presence from people taking pictures of them. it didn’t matter she was drunk and determined for her goal of the night, losing the v card. “richard,” she smirked up at him. “we should head back to the tent, your may queen demands it.” letting out a giggle she moved back going for another twirl as she reached for his hand.

july 27th, 2014

she still doesn’t understand what the big deal is, her mother pacing back and forth going on and on about propriety. catherine looking like a mirror of her mother’s upset. her father’s disappointment. “i’m sixteen, just because i’m under this bloody crown doesn’t mean i’m not gonna go out and have fun!” her eyes glanced at the various magazine and newspaper headlines in front of her. she doesn’t see the issue with it, minus the invasion of privacy, in the picture she’s just pressed against the wall making out with one of her guy friends. she’s hearing the words come from everyone’s mouths but she’s not listening. just blankly sitting there. 

february 3rd, 2015

“you’re what?! tilly you can’t sleep with your math tutor!” tilly turned at the exclamation from her friend, a look of confusion on her face. “why not? i need to pass and he apparently wants to fuck a princess it’s a win win! besides he’s not that old i doubt he’s even thirty.” besides it was better than any of the guys in their class asking to lose it with her. at least it would be good and she’d pass. she didn’t see an issue. plus it felt good to be wanted, to have someone want her and not want her to be like her sisters. who cared if he was a married man approaching his 30s? he wanted her. 

september 10th, 2015

she woke up on her bathroom floor in just the lingerie she wore under her dress before going out. not that she cared after all, she’d probs look skinnier from throwing up all the drinks from the night before. she brushed her teeth, throwing her hair into a ponytail. Wiping off the remnants of her make up from the night before she looked on at the stranger in her bed. “get out before a walk of shame is too embarrassing, for your own well being.” Watching the man leave she shook her head curling into bed ignoring her phone continue to blow up again and again, no doubt people seeing pictures of the night before. 

may 4th, 2016

“fuck! jesus fucking christ i look awful!” seeing the press release photo on the cover of the magazine sitting in front of her on the table, she picked it up and tossed it straight towards the trash can. looking back at her partner for her textile project, she gave her a look. another example of her being the worst of the family.  “tell me why you thought bringing a tabloid where i look awful in would really make a good study environment?” shaking her head, she picked up her phone seeing who could come over tonight, she might be able to convince richard to get on a flight. she’d slept with arthur a few times maybe him? there were more than a few posh boys at oxford she’d met on her visits. shaking her head she motioned at the fabric she brought. “they’re all recycled, should work for what we need.” 

january 3rd, 2017

"matilda herietta annabelle stuart how could you be so wildly irresponsible?!” her mother is screaming, her father looks disappointed. she knows she fucked up because it’s just the two of them. having her parents attention on just her, she could probably count the times that’s happened on just one hand alone. she doesn’t regret flashing the paparazzi though, the magazines printed with trainwreck tilly subtle covering where she’d lifted her top, but it was still obvious she had. “i was drunk, it was hogamany, i must have been black out by that point.” she knew it didn’t matter, watching her mother go into another rant. still, it felt nice for once to be the only person that mattered to her parents. 

 october 31st, 2017

she was didn’t know where she was really not that it mattered. she went up to oxford to party with the posh guys and all her. you could barely call the white lingerie she wore an angel costume, something she thought would an irony. she probably mixed too many liquors and too many drugs together. still she reaches for the hand of the guy she’s leaning on pulls him to a door, hoping one will be a bathroom or a bedroom. with her luck she’ll see what happened tonight on twitter in the morning. 

august 7th, 2018

they told her to be on her best behavior, that she’s technically working edinburgh fringe festival. still she thinks she’s doing a charitable deed. she’s buying these poor struggling actors alcohol and then getting into drinking contests with them. it’s all rather sensible if you ask her. she’s doing a charity besides it feels good being the center of attention. she’s sitting on the actual bar, a rather attractive actor from some play or some shit she watched today has his hand on her thigh. why would she do anything else? 

september 7th, 2019

she knew that the braemar gathering was a big deal, she’d been to it almost every year of her life. still it didn’t mean she wasn’t bored as hell after a day of it, it’s why she’d pulled richard aside at the noble dinner at balmoral later that evening. her own personal playground as a kid, she knew exactly which cupboard to push him in. it would have been so much nicer if her mother’s fucking cheif of staff hadn’t opened the door when she was on her knees. the yelling wasn’t even bad, it was the punishment. her life being packed into suitcases around her as she sat on her bed back in edinburgh 24 hours later. no what hurt the most was her mother’s last words to her before she got on the plane to dubai, “i wonder if you’ll ever stop disappointing me.”

december 23rd, 2019

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me?! happy birthday, happy christmas, we’re marrying you off to the crown prince of venezuela! how could you do this to me mum? catherine just said-” she doesn’t think she’s ever been more furious in her life. opening the bottle of vodka and lining up the cocaine she said on her. “you know what i don’t care if i was drunkenly with him once, mother it doesn’t mean i want to fucking marry him! you’re ruining my life! forgive me, your majesty. i won’t forget from now on i’m your subject, not your daughter. have a happy christmas, goodbye.” she threw the phone, then threw a shot back looking at the lines she set up. “lola!” she screamed walking towards her suitcase. “i want to look sluttier than a prostitute whose rent is due tomorrow, a christmas present to my mother given my engagement. i don’t want to remember tonight.” 

janurary 21st, 2020

she knew for days, something was wrong. she wasn’t how she always was, then she got sick, consistently, three mornings in a row. sitting staring at the line of positive pregnancy tests that were in her bathroom sink she looked at cora rubbing her back comfortingly. “i need to call or text or- there are only two people i don’t make wear a condom and i haven’t slept with richard since september.” grabbing her phone she  sent a quick ‘come over now’ text. and threw her phone towards the bed. “burn the tests tonight, get them out of her, taking them to the fucking mcdonalds to throw them away if you have to. they aren’t gonna be anywhere near me though, it can not ruin everything. my mother already hates my existance, she’d send me to the fucking gallows if i ruined her one chance at getting rid of me. not a word of this to her spy either or catherine.” 

janurary 24th, 2020

it was cold and she was crying. laying on the chair in the doctor’s office, she held onto cora’s hand like it was her only way of living and she felt so much relief knowing that if she needed it neil would carry her out of the building. “i know, i’m not the model catholic or really any religion, but i still feel wrong, i feel guilty. i don’t know what else to do though.” so she cried, letting her communications advisor and his wife comfort her like they were her parents. sometimes they feel more like parents than her own. when the doctor comes in, tells her its going to pinch and might be uncomfortable, she lets cora distract her with stories of her and neil when they started dating. while she doen’t need him to carry her out, she leans on them both the whole way to car, letting herself come to terms that she wasn’t pregnant anymore. 

march 9th, 2020

“félix, i’m going to get fucking wasted at the beach,” she wasn’t sure when she got fucking domestic. she lives with her fiancé, they share a bed, fucking wedding magazines are sent to her. it feels like she’s in a snow globe. one where she barely recognizes who she is. she still looks in the mirror and remembers that if things had been different her stomach would probably have a bump now, not be the flat as it is. so instead, she’s taken to more day drinking, trying not to think about the thing only 6 people in the world know about and why it makes her feel so empty.

[coridallasmultipass]

Vent / personal / tmi / menstruation / endometriosis / long post ... Im so fucking sick of healthcare professionals telling me to just wait it out and pushing my problems onto other doctors I just got my 5th shot of lupron and have 1 more next month. On my appointment last week i told the gyn how ive been having much more cramping and tissue but not blood coming out regularly and he said its possible the combined lupron and norethindrone are making my uterine lining too thin, and to stop the norethindrone (it was being prescribed to help any menopause-like side effects the lupron can have) And less than 24 hours after my first missed dose i get a full blown period complete with extreme mood swings and depression Im not bleeding this week but im still cramping and the mood swings are so fucking bad, being chronically ill and not getting enough relief from any of my medications is making all of this worse but im literally breaking down over any little thing The lupron and norethindrone combined i guess have been suppressing all my emotions bc this is what it was like on the daily before i started it (just not as bad) which is telling me that none of my psych meds are working but whatever I just now got off the phone with my psych and he said he doesnt want to do anything with my meds or dosing bc he says its related to hormones and thats what my gyn needs to address and i Need To Wait im fucking sick of waiting i cant do this ive been waiting since last august!!!!!!! I now have to wait 2 more whole months of mood swings until i can have another appointment with him hes refused to actually screen me for adhd too and says its bc im An Artist type that im not able to sit down and draw anything since last fall like i fucking hate him and he never gets my name or pronouns right and i cant go see a new psych bc of all the closures and i dont wanna call my gyn bc he said if things get worse i need to have a pelvic ultrasound done again and i cant do it!!! I fucking cant do it it hurts too much im too traumatized from depoprovera and mirena that i cant even touch myself without extreme dysphoria and fear that im going to cramp Its killing me that as someone who was so personally sexual to completely be traumatized from the road to an endometriosis diagnosis that i can no longer masturbate or even talk about sex without anxiety and being trans on top of it hurts even more Next gyn appt is my last injection of lupron and im really gonna push to plan for a partial hysterectomy (i only had endo cysts on the back of my uterus but it was 100% confirmed with surgery and biopsy) so i hope it will help so i can stop taking all these fucking hormonal medications like Before being diagnosed i was really planning on going on testosterone but now im too scared because i feel like it would really fuck up my health problems more - mentally and physically Ive given up on passing and am trying to focus on body acceptance especially now that ove had rapid weight gain that isnt being addressed by any of ky doctors i bring it up to God im just trying to vent here but seriously Do not take the diagnosis of endometriosis lightly its super serious to go forth with any treatments and you really have to commit to long term treatments and its a gamble either way For me not starting any treatments was unacceptable i needed help with extreme monthly periods and all forms of birth control ive tried exacerbated symptoms and never stopped bleeding - i literally cannot personally recommend any form of medical birth control bc every one has fucked me over, many different pills at different points in my life, shot (depoprovera gave me debilitating cramps and i bled non stop all 3 months which started this whole journey to diagnosis), iud (iud was the worst i had to go to the er bc the gyn refused to give me pain meds and i was screaming in pain a few hours later unBle to move or think - i really cannot stress enough how painful and long insertion is like it was the longest 5-10 minutes of my life crying while it felt like a knife going through me) I really dont want that ultrasound tho ffs i had to get the first one done while i was in full force cramps during my depoprovera shot and the pelvic ultrasound rod is humongous and they dig it around inside you (i already had a painful and hard time trying to have pleasurable penetration even by myself or with partners) and it takes like 40 minutes of jumbling around your insides for them to document every thing like at least at that time i was only like 2 months from my last time jerking off but now its been almost 6 months of me not even thinking about putting more than one finger in to clean myself in the shower like to go right into an huge ultrasound is going to be so painful and anxiety inducing and i cant do it id rather go straight into surgery My biggest phobias have to do with pain around this part of my anatomy i cannot stress enough how long ive wanted a hysterectomy just so i dont have to fear accidentally getting p r e g... like i would literally kms... i would probably be able to handle the pain of cutting off my arm with a rusty knife better than extreme cramping pain like i had with the iud or ultrasound its such a phobia and now its source of trauma for me from everything ive gone through the last 6 months Having to readjust my life goals from doing p o r n as a hobby and wanting to transition and be who i am, to becoming a vegetable and trying to cope with the fact that i cant ever transition how i hoped Everything just really sucks for me right now and i have literally no social life any more, not even online bc im so stressed about my health and my attention is so bad i cant focus on a convo online, my laptop is about at its grave so all i have is a phone and xbox with bare minimum internet speed.. i live in the middle of nowhere and cant get my license bc the person who was guiding me to drive is an essential worker in a hospital so i cant go in their car any more... im just so fucking alone i cant do anything except break my back gardening and then cry about it later bc my fucking meds dont fucking work!!!!!!!!! Oh thats another thing im also dealing with fucking gerd on top of all this and i cant get the proceedure i need done to confirm if i need surgery or not bc the fucking lockdown!!!! So im stuck taking pantoprazole (been trying similar meds since march 2019 and its currently june 2020!!!!!!) I just want to eat tomatoes and chocolate again it fucking kills me if i dont take pantoprazole i will lose my voice and have such a sore throat and ears from the stomach acid and i know im gonna have to stop it for 2 weeks for one of the tests i need done and its going to be literal hell like it feels worse than strep throat ill probably do the thing where i start choking and coughing at night bc it gets so bad Im a fucking mess like why couldnt all of this happen one at a time I really want to get my belly pierced again bc i feel so naked without it but i cant bc i probably will be having 2 surgeries once covid blows over (if it ever does) Sorry for taking up so much dash space im just really hurting and need some outlet bc therapy isnt helping rn

[and-i-uh]

6? 22? Any other number you wanted to answer?

6- i dont have any stim toys, ive never really delved into that stuff, i was never really given the chance to explore stuff that would help me out with stimming and such. I also dont think i would like stim toys? Maybe i just have to try some but idk.

22- idk any specific songs i stim to. But ive stimmed while listening to mcr, and honestly i just stim to alot of the general songs i listen to. I really like singing along, i think thats a stim of mine, and some songs just listening to them is like stimming (anything with drums and/or guitars)

2- i like blankets a lot. Even if im hot and dont really need one, ill subconsciously grab the blanket on the couch and put it on my lap, and on my bed. There was one day i grabbed a pocket-sized beanie baby and put itin my hoodie pocket, and just knowing it was there made me happy. Also when i was with my friends one of them stuck their hands in my pocket and i panicked and like moved it out of their reach bc i was scared to get made fun of lol, it ended up being fine. I sleep with stuffed animals a lot. I think thats it

3- my school experiences were,,, not fun at all. Theres a lot to unpack there. My schools all had this thing called a “504 plan” or whatever. And it’s supposed to help people with certain disorders/disabilities. Mine only acknowledged my adhd as far as i know. Maybe my anxiety too. Some of the things that were supposed to ‘help’ were moving me to the front of the room, i got extended time to complete stuff (supposedly), extended time on certain tests (which i only saw on the act, literally i got no other extended time to do anything else. And after i got extended time on the act my scores shot up. Imagine the potential if i was given my actual extended time shit) and the meetings were hell. They started to have meetings with me in middle school, sixth grade i think. Having an administrator there, and my parents, and at least one teacher was terrifying to me. I think i cried every meeting. Honestly it felt like an interrogation to me, esp with all the damn eye contact and shit. My dad asked me if i wanted to continue it this year and i was immediately like fuck no nuh uh not happening. And whether or not I actually needed to be in the front of the room depended on the class, teacher, the people in there, but a lot of the time i would just be moved to the front and i would hate it. In eighth grade my math teacher moved me from the back of the room (a favorite seat in that class) to the front of the room in the middle of class for like a week. It was honestly humiliating and the only time i was eventually able to express my opinion on the 504 shit. Actually my freshman math teacher did that too. Ahaha moving on now before this gets too long.

4/5- three negative and positive things about being autistic.

Pros-

(1) i dont really have a chance to not have a hobby. Ive always got an interest to keep me entertained and i like that.

(2) stimming is nice, i like it, im not afraid to let myself stim. Makes me feel better.

(3) im unique and shit. I have a different pov than other people and that allows me to have different ways of thinking. I think outside the box ig. I also have this weird version of confidence and objectivity that I appreciate in myself

Cons-

(1) its hard to feel like i belong somewhere, bc im so different. Im getting better at it but im not good at getting close to people.

(2) i also like,, dont have certain permanence? Like object permanence? A lot of the time i dont really miss things/people unless im somewhere that reminds me of them. Idk if it’s negative really but its something,, even a spin, like bts, i dont really miss them that much until i do. Theyre still very important to me but yeah

(3) people dont really get me the same way other people get other people. And its hard for me to explain it to people. And theres certain people i get more than others. Its weird.

7- people need to give autistics a chance to be heard. Apply the accommodations you “give” them. Dont put them in the spotlight and give them space when needed. We are what you might call “picky” too. Eating, learning, socializing, we have our own things we need to be able to do shit. Learn them. Let us stim. Encourage us to learn about ourselves and remind us that youre there for us. But dont try to help us unless we ask or we actually need help. Dont trigger meltdowns on purpose, stop using the r word even in passing like its not a big deal. Be more than aware of us, accept us, appreciate us. Dont be a bystander.

8- i dont have much experience with meltdowns? I think? If i have i didnt have chances to recover. I had to go back to class or something. Idk how to recognize them in me either.

10- showering. Thats a big thing that even though i kinda need i forget to do. Except during school. I had a whole routine in the morning and i was super punctual. If i didnt shower i would be late, miss the bus, forget something.

12- meat. The way it feels. Disgusting. How do people eat it and not feel like dying? Same with lettuce. Spinach is fine but every time i try to eat lettuce I almost throw up. Bell peppers, pickles, vinegar, mayo, eggs usually, cheese sometimes. Just off the top of my head. One time i tried putting lettuce on my burger, was feeling adventurous, and after biting down i had to just take the lettuce off. Another time, my stepmom (newly married to my dad) made slads for us, and i was skeptical. There was white stuff all over the salad and she wouldnt tell me what it was. I tried eating a little carrot stick thing and almost vomited. Thats when she learned I cannot eat mayo. Even if idk that its mayo i still cant fuckin eat it. She forced me to eat bell peppers one time. Didnt go well at all. At all.

(Not gonna do the spin one bc ive already talked about them and if i do again itll be too long)

15- yes! I only do big stuff(?)(like yelling n shit) when im completely alone. Like if im home alone. Bc i get so loud. Sometimes ill hum in my room or sing to myself in my room though. Its so fun. As for phrases i repeat, ill repeat anything i find interesting. In a movie or song, or even something a friend said. One time my mom said the phrase “tough titty said the kitty but the milks still good” and i went around the kitchen repeating it until she got annoyed. Also sometimes something in the room will have a constant sound and ill like think a phrase to that sound repeatedly. Idk how to explain it lol. Idk if thats echolalia either

16- rocks. Typical i know, collecting rocks. But i just cant help it. I see a rock i like, i pick it up, take it home. I used to collect sticks. And when i was in elementary school, i used to pick shit up off the playground. Beer bottle caps was a favorite. Apparently the school called my mom about it bc they found my stash and thought it was from home and my parents were drinking excessively. 😬 oops

18- introverted?

19- kinda depends. Idk. I really cant tell wow. I would probably say hypersensitive. Just cause i have a ton of sensory issues and a lot of stuff bothers me. Like types of clothes. And how things are resting on my body. Yeah i guess i am hypersensitive.

20- i used to struggle with self love a lot. And sometimes i still kinda do. But in the past few years ive really started appreciating myself and trying to learn a lot about myself. Its going well id say.

21- empathy. Hmm. I think im very empathetic, actually. I can always tell when someone is feeling uncomfortable in a situation. And when i should tell people to back off of them if they wont say it themselves. And im very uncomfortable when theres secondhand embarrassment. And bullying, in something im watching or reading. Yknow, I actually cant watch mean girls. I just. I tried, i had to walk away bc I couldn’t take it. It also kinda triggers me so theres that. Bc of the bullying. But yeah im very empathetic. Otherwise socially im not good at that.

23- nope. Ive got like no support system other than tumblr and online friends. Apparently my dad refused to acknowledge im autistic and hes my favorite parent. Thats his big flaw though. And if i “came out” to him and said it myself he would probably come around. I know hes not completely nt either. My Opa has ocd, so nuerodiversity runs in the family ig.

While making this i got distracted and went on insta for like an hour oops lol

24- steampunk cosplay? Or college dorm tips? The steampunk one was freshman year, and the college dorm one was fifth grade. It lasted well into sixth grade and seventh grade.

[justlightthefirstspark]

Utd vs City - FA Cup 4th round - Jan 25th 2020

Okay so this game was a little all over the place, I feel like everything just goes out the window on derby day. For real tho my blood pressure went through the roof this afternoon, I HATE derby day. Moving on.

‘10 - Cracking save from Earps. She was on her game today (except for towards the end, but we’ll get to that later on). She did have some great saves though

Today I learned that I’m not a massive fan of Ellen White. She’s very good, yes, so disagree with me if you must, but she seemed pretty intent on literally killing Abbie McManus for a little while there, and she nearly came through Hayley Ladd at one stage, so... yeah. I’m not really a fan. Just don’t think a striker needs to make as many sliding tackles as she did today 🤷🏽‍♀️

‘22 - Jackie meggsed Steph Houghton and I thought I was gonna die of joy. If that’s even a thing. Also, wish we could have made something from that but hey.

‘24 - Was a little choppy for a lot of the first half. Sigsworth had a glorious opportunity to open the scoring but unfortunately couldn’t make anything happen, and then Ross went kinda close, but it ended up creeping over the bar. City were definitely in charge at this point though, most of what United had was coming off the counter

‘30 - Goal, City. Abbie... bro. Personally, I never bought a ticket for the McManus hype train. And that’s why.

‘37 - Nailed on chance for United surely, ball in from Hanson I’m pretty sure, but Sigsworth just couldn’t get there

Half time: First half went pretty much as I expected it to, minus the goal if I’m being honest. McManus’ mistake was pretty stupid, and shortsighted, but what’s done is done. I do think that we need a new CB (at least one) in the summer, cause I haven’t been majorly impressed w McManus tbh. I much prefer the Turner x2 partnership at CB, but even then Amy can have a tendency to make some silly mistakes. (I’m sure Millie does too, I just haven’t seen those yet. They’re human, not robots, we all make mistakes!) I think Abbie, needs to be benched for a little while; move Amy back to CB w Millie, move Smith onto the right and bring Ökvist in on the left, and just let her develop and learn on the job. (Should Amy have to relinquish that RB spot, Smith should have it over Harris imo)

‘45 - No changes at the half, which was annoyingggggg. Also the male commentator (can’t remember his name, soz) kept making reference to the QF loss to Reading last season and I was not appreciative. Like, at all.

‘48 - Like for the majority of the first half, Zelem was sitting very deep in the Utd midfield. Was almost like a back 5 at times, w Zel sat just in front of Abbie and Millie. She was basically invisible during the first half due to this as well, little to no offensive action. I’m pretty sure that Ladd started sitting deeper to push Zelem up at some stage though

‘56 - Goal, City. This was game over for me (lol). I’m not really sure who I blame for this one, seen a lot of blame on Amy, but there was definitely a delayed reaction from Millie in there too, so I’d have to watch it back (which I don’t plan to tbh) to fully make up my mind, so I’m gonna blame them both. Seems only fair. 🤷🏽‍♀️

‘59 - James 🔁 Ross. An hour too late but I’ll take it. I’d have started James, without a doubt, but Casey said they were “managing her for the upcoming games”, also she kinda has a tendency to pick up yellows - through no fault of her own really though. Some other players just can’t deal with her strength on the ball so when they challenge her, they come off the worse and she gets in trouble. Riddle me that one 🧐

I also think we need a new striker in the summer, Ross just isn’t working. We need another game changer, another creative outlet like Lauren cause it’s massively unfair to rest that responsibility solely on the shoulders of an 18 year old.

‘60 - glorious shot from Hanson that just couldn’t make it. She really opened City up down the right side. To be honest it was a great save from Roebuck too

‘69 - GOAL; United. Remember when I said Lauren James should have started? Because Lauren James scored a super goal 10 mins after she came on the pitch. Lovely turn and shot, straight past the keeper. Game on, apparently.

‘69 - Arnot 🔁 Sigsworth. I think this was a good swap, even though it may not have been like for like. Jess was EVERYWHERE today, I genuinely don’t think there was an inch of the pitch she didn’t cover. She had a few decent chances, which any other day she probably would have put away but that’s the way it goes I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️ Honestly if we had any other options, I’d rest her more, but we don’t so... I do think it’s the right decision to sub her off around the hour mark if she’s gonna play this often though. She’s gonna burn out quick cause she’s doing way more than she needs/has to (because we have no bench and a lot of inexperience/players who just aren’t that good, so everyone is doing 47 jobs but shhhh)

‘72 - 👻 - Pure daylight robbery is the only way I can describe this. One of McManus or Arnot has the ball OVER the line, but it’s disallowed 🤦🏽‍♀️ (Before anyone comes for me claiming “salt” or whatever, there is nothing you can say to me that would change my mind. There’s videos from the stand that show the ball over the line, Ellie Roebuck’s body-language and position show her clearly fishing the ball out of the net, the reaction of all the players around the goal show that it went in - Utd players elated, and City’s dejected. Also Miss Ellen “I couldn’t really see. I wasn’t in the line of it” White can swing. She was 2 feet away and staring right at it.)

‘76 - Goal; City. Jill Scott floats it up and in , with a delayed reaction from Earps. She should have seen that one coming a mile off but I reckon it took a deflection (possibly off McManus’ shoulder?) cause her body movements completely changed - albeit just a fraction too late. Also, I have *no idea* what Amy was doing in the box there, I just know that I don’t ever wanna see whatever that was ever again. Flailing around on the ground like a literal fish out of water. Not good.

‘87 - GOAL; United. Well, own goal; Hemp. But I’ll take it. Thought for a second it was Houghton but she was too busy feigning a foul 🤷🏽‍♀️

‘90 - I’ll be honest, I had to stop watching here cause I couldn’t take it. There was like, a year’s worth of added time bc of two injuries to City players but nothing of note happened during this time so I have nothing to say.

All in all, I think our entire back line had an off day today.

Abbie, imo she’s our main defensive weak link. I’d say a solid 70% of City’s chances came down our right side due to this. I’d have to go back and rewatch every game from the start of the season to pick out specific instances, but there can be a bit of hesitancy and airiness to her game sometimes, it doesn’t always seem like she thinks before she does. And she (well, all of them do it really) plays it back way more than is healthy for my stress levels.

Millie gets the benefit of the doubt from me today cause she very rarely has off days, but she was very quiet today.

Amy, has some extent of the benefit of the doubt cause she’s not a RB/FB by nature, she’s had to change her game a bit, but she was not great today (see previous point about the right side of our defence)

I actually think Kirsty Smith was the best of the 4, her service to Hanson on the left was excellent.

We really, really missed Galton down the left though, so I hope she’s back for Wednesday! Lauren needs to start vs Chelsea too, and against Reading tbh but we’ll worry about that one later.

Also, as a little side note, I have to say I really enjoyed Jayne Ludlow’s commentary this afternoon! I know she did the Utd/Spurs reverse fixture in October, and I’m sure she’s done a few more, but I’d like to hear a lot more of her (or really, anyone else who knows the game as well as she does, or in a similar capacity). She, obviously, knows the game really well, and I thought her analysis and opinions were really interesting to listen to.