#in my head I’m still a teenager that’s bad at eating and with a high metabolism so I FORGET

[nerefee]

literally the only good thing about thigh gaps is that your naked thighs don’t rub against each other until you’re SORE

[readwritealldayallnight]

“-other than that, wasn’t so bad.” Simon says, readjusting the material of the balaclava across the bridge of his nose with his free hand. His other hand is busy, keeping yours warm as you lead him down sidewalk after sidewalk.

The two of you have just finished having Sunday morning brunch at a local cafe, something you insisted was becoming ‘tradition’ after the second time it happened. And according to you, after finishing eating, (Simon never wanting to hear a word about you paying for a thing) the next part of this lazy morning routine calls for strolling about at a pace that he would normally find pointless, if not downright frustrating. But for you, he slows down.

“Butcher’s an interesting first job.” You reply, nodding along in thought. You picture a younger Simon, fresh out of school, probably fresh faced as well. He was likely as tall, though not yet as muscular as the military would make him. A meat clever in hand, bloody apron around his waist, he was likely still inadvertently intimidating people back then the way he does now. “I was mostly just taking babysitting jobs until I graduated. Liked it well enough.”

“I actually had to babysit a neighbour one time, when I was younger. Actual baby at tha’ too.” He tells you with a chuckle, slightly shaking his head at the memory.

“What?” You laugh as well, the image in your mind now swapping out the meat clever in a teenaged Simon’s grip for a drooling infant. “How did that work out?”

“Neighbour comes bangin’ on our door, she’s carryin’ the thing, it’s screamin’ its bloody little head off,” You roll your eyes at the way Simon refers to the child, swatting his arm playfully but listening on. “She tells me her husband thinks he’s havin’ a fuckin’ heart attack. None o’ the other neighbours are home or answerin’ the door. ‘Fore I know it, she’s passin’ me the kid, askin’ if mum can watch her while she drives him to the hospital. Next thing I know she’s gone and I’m left with the thing.”

“Oh my gosh! Well where was your mum?” You ask, in disbelief that you’ve never heard this story from him before, half wondering if he’s pulling your leg.

“She wasn’t home, I can tell you that! Only me and the new lil’ orphan were.” He utters, strengthening his grip on your hand as you start to hunch over with laughter.

“Okay so wait, you were home alone? Oh no! How long did you have to ‘babysit’ for?” You giggle.

“Well technically Tommy was there but he would’ve only been a hindrance, told him to stay in his room.” Simon adds, pulling his hand out of yours, only to wrap it around your shoulder, now that you’ve come to a standstill at a crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. “Fuckin’ nearly 4 hours went by before mum came home and took over. Longest hours o’ my life. I think that might’ve been the day I enlisted actually.”

You elbow his side as you continue to laugh, seeing that he’s teasing you at the end now. You open your mouth to tease him right back, but your eye catches sight of the shop you’ve been standing in front of, jaw dropping wider.

“Simon!” You’re pulling him with a strength he would otherwise be impressed by if he wasn’t so suddenly caught off guard, senses kicking into high alert now as his head swivels in search of the cause of your distress. “How have we never seen this before??”

Oh.

He should’ve known better.

He actually had been avoiding taking you down this street for a little while now, but had been too caught up in his story telling to notice the direction you’d taken in him. His subtle effort of wrapping his arm around you to tilt you away from the storefront obviously hadn’t worked out. He opens his mouth to answer, but can only sigh when you’re already making your way towards the entrance of the pet store.

“We’re only lookin’, right?” He asks loud enough for you to hear as he follows you in.

Wrong.

[ilovethanosdick]

Choi Su-bong/Thanos (Squid Game) x fem! reader HCS

IM OBSESSED WITH THIS MAN!!!!!

also first ever post?! it’s a little short, but hope ya enjoy!!

SFW:

• he ADORES physical touch

• touching u at every chance he gets, like even simple hand holding, leaning against u

• HE LOVES IT ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES FROM U!!

• casually grabs u by ur ass in public, or give u a lil slap. when u confront him about it, he acts like he dont know what are u talking about, then giggle

• using ur breast like fidget toy, when he’s stressed

• squeezing it, when he feels like it

• shoving his head between ur boobs, bro can stay like that for a good 10 minutes until he calms down

• if u ask him if he would still love u as a worm, he would tell u that he’s not a zoophile

• pet names!! baby, babe, princess are his favs!

• he’s not so good with commitment and stuff like that, would prefer an open relationship (one sided tho, he's so possesive of u)

• have huge jealousy issues when it comes to u

• a male species near u??? he goes into rage mode, getting aggressively touchy to claim u! show everyone that u are his!!

• would apologise to u with rap songs

“Y/N” he screamed outside your house. throwing rocks at the window to wake u up.

“what the fuck…” u muttered to yourself, as u walked over to the window to check what this idiot come up with this time.

as soon as he saw your face, he screamed again, his hands clutching onto his chest “SEÑORITA!!! I WANT TO APOLOGISE TO U!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!! U DO REALISE THAT ITS 3 AM RIGHT NOW???” u screamed back at him, slightly leaning forward through window.

“I LOVE U!!!!!” he get on his knees.

“ARE U HIGH?????” u asked, clearly pissed at his presence.

“HI!!!!!” he said as he waved his hands to u, enthusiastically with a goofy grin.

even after this response, u can’t tell if he’s high. that’s pretty much how he’s acting regardless if he’s on drugs or not.

he turn on boombox, a cliche beat hit your ears. he stands up and cleared his throat.

“Yo, I messed up, I admit it, I’m a clown,

Flirting like a fool when you weren’t around.

But I swear, it was harmless, just a slip of the tongue,

Now I’m here confessing where I went wrong.

I told her, "Hey, nice shoes," and that’s all I meant,

But now I’m in the doghouse, paying the rent.

Baby, you’re the star, the queen of my heart,

And that other conversation? A throwaway part.

She laughed at my joke, yeah, I felt kinda cool,

But now I see, I was the class clown fool.

I’d never trade you for some silly chat,

You’re the boss, the CEO, I’m just the doormat.

I’ll buy you flowers, write your name in the sky,

Sing off-key if it’ll dry your eyes.

I’ll even quit drugs if you need me to,

Just don’t leave me hangin’, I’m a mess without you.

So baby, I’m here, on my knees with this beat,

Admitting my crimes, can’t handle defeat.

Let’s laugh this off, put it in the past,

‘Cause you and me, girl, we’re built to last.”

he end up the song showing a small heart formed with his thumb and index finger.

u sighed “all right, come inside”

“YAYY!!!” he did a happy jump and clapped his feet in midair.

• tbh he’s so silly

• steals flowers from a random garden for u

• night visits, but uses a window instead of a door to enter ur place, literally like some kind of teenager

• even if u gave him the keys to ur apartment, he will use the window no matter what

it was dark outside, about 11 pm. u were coming back from work. damn how exhausted u felt. some arguments with clients, boss yelling at u. it was not ur best day for sure.

u checked ur phone. still no text from Thanos. why he was ghosting u? probably he don’t want to deal with ur complains about how bad ur day went.

u opened the apartment door. u don't give a damn about anything. you plan to go to bed right away, you don't have the strength to change your clothes, wash yourself or eat something.

you threw everything aside and went to the bedroom. when you turn on the light in the room, you see your boyfriend lying on his side, resting his head on his hand, rose in his teeth.

“U WANT TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK???” u flinched. u can’t get used to Thanos randomly spawning in ur house.

“and i missed u too, princess” he grinned, standing up and then theatrically hand over the rose to u.

“i brought ur fav burgers and lotta beer” he said, pointing out at ur kitchen.

“thanks” u smiled softly at him. u can’t help but melt inside at his behaviour. he’a an asshole, but what a cute asshole.

“no problem, babe” he leaned to u, giving u a tight hug. burying his face in the crook of ur neck.

• avoids deep emotional conversation

• would tell that he loves u, but he don’t put much weight into that

• he’s saying it casually like it’s common sense that he loves u

• painting each others nails!!!!

NSFW:

• pansexual king, but he wouldn’t label himself

• he don’t care about gender, he fucks who he consider as cute and that’s it!!

• when u ride him, he would comment something like: WROOM WROOM!! or YEEHAW!!!

• A TOTAL FREAK….

• piss kink (y’all can’t prove me wrong)

• HE LIKES IT DIRTY!!!!

• public sex

• like fingering u in a club or on a party, sometimes anal when he's high

• claiming u like that in front of other people?? IT TURNS HIM ON SO BADD

• never a sub, it would hurt his ego

• bro don’t know what gentle sex is

• always rough and aggressive

• smokes weed/cigarettes during sex, blowing smoke in your face

• talking about himself in third person "yeah, babe. the great Thanos will make u feel so good”

“u like that slut? u like Thanos’s dick that much??”

• he’s not into after care. usually he just rolls down on bed, doesn't even bother putting on clothes, hug u tightly and fall asleep like that

[i2sunric]

𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 (p.sh)

PAIRING: hockeyplayer!sunghoon x classpresident!reader (f)

SUMMARY: after an argument caused by his overwhelming jealousy, you decide to find him in the hockey changing rooms to show him your loyalty, by getting down on your knees.

WARNINGS: jealousy (borderline toxic?) argument, fighting, sunghoon has a bad temperament, smut (blowjob, deepthroat), dirty talking, dom!hoon but reader knows her way with him, cum in mouth, cum eating, high school au (but they’re both 19), hoon is slightly toxic, pet names (slut, baby), messy blowjob, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD

PUBLISHED: 27th November 2024

WC: 2.1k

TAGLIST: permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvr r @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @senascoooop @mitmit01 @cloud-lyy @won4me @slut4hee @leov3rse @aanniikkaa @lvnglysunoo @lovingvoidgoatee @talesofthegreatest @yeonjunswife05 @soobieboo @llearlert @j1sb4e @roslayy @yunhoswrldddd @eneiyri @jakeswifez @malak13567889 @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @hoonics BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

a/n: peekaboo! guess who rose from not the dead but my drafts? yup, this fic i never actually had the inspiration to write. please REBLOG & COMMENT to share and lmk your thoughts.

The cold air from the rink clung to your skin as you stormed down the corridor, the sound of your heels clicking pounding in your ears.

Every word from the argument replayed in your mind, sharper each time, like tiny blades cutting into your chest. You’d always known about Sunghoon’s temper, how he buried that dangerous, jealous side of himself for you.

He was used to getting into fights and spending more time in detention than in class, but he had tried to change the exact moment you became his girlfriend.

He tried, but sometimes it slipped through the cracks. Sometimes it surged to the surface, fiery and unrelenting, like it had the day before.

For a moment, you just stood there, breathing hard. You thought you’d gotten used to it—the way his jealousy twisted into anger, the way he let it consume him.

It hadn’t, truthfully, but you were going to make everything right again, even if it meant swallowing your pride — and his dick — Because he was more important.

As soon as your council meeting ended, you decided to rush to the hockey changing room in order to get Sunghoon before morning classes.

You waited for everyone to exit, knowing that if your boyfriend was any the annoyed teenage kid he was, he’d take a long shower to calm his nerves.

You ignored all the wolf whistles and viscous smirk as you pushed the door of the male changing rooms open, after making sure everyone except Sunghoon was out.

And there you saw him, sculpted like a Greek god as his dignity was covered only with a towel while he dried his hair with another.

His eyes closed momentarily before quickly snapping back open as his head turned towards the door.

Sunghoon stepped forwards with the towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his hair but his muscles were prominent as he stared down at you

"What the hell are you doing in here?" he spoke, tone harsh and annoyed as he stepped closer to you.

You already knew he was mad, so be it. You stood in front of him with your backpack in hand, your hair perfectly combed and uniform neat “We need to talk.”

Sunghoon's jaw tightened at your words, his eyes narrowing on you as he continued to walk towards you while looking down at you like you were some kind of prey. "Yeah? Well, if you couldn't tell, I’m kind of busy here,"

You sighed, placing your backpack on one of the benches, side stepping him “I can wait.”

"And you think you're allowed to just wait in here? You shouldn't be in here in the first place," He retorted impatiently as he also turned around, walking towards his own locker to grab some clean clothes.

“Then I’ll just have to break some rules.” You replied, letting him know you weren’t backing down. “Why are you mad at me?”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw as he grabbed his boxers, pulling them on under his towel and removing it around his waist before reaching for his school pants.

He didn't bother to turn around to look at you as he was getting dressed, but his attitude changed a bit at your question, scoffing in response. "You really wanna know why I'm mad?" he retorted as he grabbed a plain black t-shirt to go over his head.

You eyed him shamelessly as he got dressed. "That's what I just asked."

Sunghoon couldn't help but notice the way your eyes remained on him, watching as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, his muscles straining against the fabric as he finally looked back at you, eyes dark and expression cold. "It's because of that prick from the council you've been spending so much time with," He responded with venom in his tone as he spoke.

“What about him?” You already knew what was the rant about, you had already heard all of his jealous tantrum the day before.

Still, you needed him to talk to you.

He clearly was not happy about the fact that you were acting clueless. "Don't play stupid with me," he sneered, "You know exactly why I’m mad. You've been spending so much time with that bastard from the council, right under my nose."

You sighed, hands resting on your hip “Because he helps me with my election campaign,” you filled in “Nothing more, don’t act like I’m hooking up with someone.”

Sunghoon couldn't help but scoff again, clearly not believing you whatsoever. "You really expect me to believe that bullshit?" he retorted, his tone cold. "You're constantly with that prick every time I see you. How am I supposed to believe you haven't been doing anything behind my back?"

You raised a brow at him. Clearly, what he had said wasn’t of your liking, “Why do you doubt me?”

"Oh, don't give me that look," He shot back, his expression cold and indifferent as he stared down at you with narrowed eyes. "I have every reason to doubt you. Everytime I see the two of you, you're all chummy, standing way too close together."

You walked close to him, slowly, like a panther ready to attack; waiting for the right time.

“Choose your words carefully.” You said, lowly “Because you know well I would never cheat on you.”

His nostrils filled with the smell of your perfume that he always loved.

He was about to attack again but your words shut him up immediately, his eyes locking with yours as he was slightly intimidated.

However, he still tried to keep his cold, indifferent façade, scoffing again as he leaned against a locker. "I can say whatever the hell I want," he retorted stubbornly.

You looked up at him “What do you need?” you asked “Do you need me to prove myself to you?”

Sunghoon couldn't help but notice the way you stared up at him, and as much as he wanted to keep his cold facade and be stubborn, he was also slightly affected by the fact that you were making it so difficult for him to stay mad at you.

“What are you getting at?" he asked, his tone still harsh as he kept his eyes locked on yours, his arms folded as he leaned against the locker.

Your tone was low “You need my reassurance, Hoon?” his heart skipped a beat as you called him by his nickname, something you never did when you're upset.

"What kind of reassurance?" he questioned, “My loyalty.” you replied.

“And how do you plan on showing me?” your hand slowly travelled up his thigh to squeeze his groin.

Sunghoon reached out for you, his hands gripping onto your hips tightly as he pulled you closer so your body was now pressed against his. "Is this you being loyal?"

You smirked and squeezed him, nodding your head, making Sunghoon suppress a shiver. A mocking scoff left his lips “Yeah? You think that is enough?”

You rolled your eyes, “You think so lowly of me.” you slowly sank down to your knees.

Your long socks weren’t long enough to cover your knees and neither was your skirt, which meant you’d have some serious sore knees later. But it didn’t matter, not when you needed to redeem yourself to your boyfriend.

Sunghoon's eyes widened as you sank to your knees in front of him, now face to face with the prominent tent in his pants he had tried to hide from you moments ago.

“This isn't proving anything yet," he managed to spit out, his tone shakier than ever.

Instead of verbally replying, something you know would only lead to yet another fight, you decided to lower his pants.

Sunghoon wasn’t average, he was thick and long, something you had tried to cope with over the time you dated. Because it hurt, but it hurt so good.

As his boxers and pants fell down to his ankles, his cock sprung free, proud and red in front of you.

“Are you such a slut?” He asked, even if his hands gently gathered your hair so you wouldn’t dirty them “Going to your knees to resolve everything, uh?”

You rolled your eyes and began giving kitten kisses to his prominent bulge, making Sunghoon shiver.

Your hand wrapped around his cock, and you pumped him painfully slowly.

He let out a soft groan in response, especially when your finger brushed against a certain vein that had his hips buck.

Your lips enfolded his angry tip, tasting the salty precum “Fuck,” Sunghoon sighed.

Impatient, and still irritated by your argument, he gripped your hair and pushed his length deep inside your throat.

You gagged at the sudden action, trying to take deep breaths not to actually retch your breakfast.

You looked up at him with an annoyed gaze, making your boyfriend chuckle “Can’t take it?”

You hummed, sending vibrations through his whole body as you bobbed your head back and forth.

Sunghoon leaned his own against the locker, his other hand flexing as he got lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

You pulled away to gather your breath, saliva and spit coating your lips. It was such a hot sight for Sunghoon.

You cleaned your mouth and used your saliva to lubricate his shaft, pumping him and then taking him again.

You tried not to gag again around him, using one of your hands to help you where you couldn’t reach.

“Good girl.” Sunghoon murmured, slowly going back to his usual self.

You smirked around his cock and pushed your head deeper, feeling his thick tip hitting the back of your throat.

Sunghoon let out a low moan, “Fuck, just like that.” he breathed out, “Bet that guy would dream of having you like this, mh? Should I take a picture and send it to him?”

You shook your head, but at the idea of Sunghoon being so jealous he’d even snap a picture while you were sucking his dick aroused you. You squeezed your thighs together to soothe the aching feeling in your core.

“Keep going,” Sunghoon changed as he matched your pace with his own thrust, each one almost making you gag, “Your mouth was made to suck my dick.”

It was a challenge, but you’d endure it if it meant soothing the beast that lay under his skin. Your beast, your demon.

When you felt his legs tremble, you knew he was close, so you hollowed your cheeks and let him fuck into your mouth.

One of your hands dropped limp while you used the other to palm his balls, adding to the already overwhelming pleasure he was feeling.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” He said, trying and failing to get you to move away.

You were all dolled up for school, and he had already messed up your hair, he didn’t want to stain your uniform with his cum, however erotic such an image was.

You let out a disapproving hum, which was enough to send him over the edge.

“Ah— Shit.” His cock twitched in your mouth as you wrapped your lips around his length and swallowed all off his seed, greedily taking every drop.

His hips bucked weakly a couple of times before you pulled away and licked your lips.

Standing up on wobbly legs, you took a tissue from the pocket of your skirt and cleaned your mouth, as well as some smudged make up.

“You didn’t have to swallow it.” Sunghoon said as he tucked his softened cock inside his pants, “I know how much you don’t enjoy it.”

It was true. You thought it was gross to swallow whenever you gave him head, but you also knew how much he loved it. He loved when you took his cum, when you gave him a reason to claim you.

“If I didn’t want to swallow, I wouldn’t have done it.” You replied, fixing your hair and taking your discarded backpack.

Just in time, the bell rang. Being the (hopefully) soon-to-be school president, you couldn’t manage to arrive late to class, so you tiptoed and pressed a quick peck on Sunghoon’s lips.

“I’ll see you after school, yeah?” You murmured, smirking when you noticed how flustered he was, “I’ll let you take me in whatever position you want.”

Sunghoon shook his head, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pressing a hot kiss to your mouth. Argument long forgotten, “Where did I find you?”

You wiggle your brows “In your wildest dreams.”

[rosegoldrosieee]

so high school

while flesh-eating walkers had seemingly crushed your long-held dreams of experiencing romance as a teenager, carl grimes made you feel so high school.

♡ carl x f!reader, fluff, implied suggestiveness, friends to lovers (sorta), ambiguously alexandria, reader has a spine

a/n: wrote this yesterday hiding in the bathroom during lunch on my school-licensed chromebook for maximum immersion

it was times like these, standing outside on someone’s back porch to get away from boisterous conversations and forced interactions, that reminded you of stupid high school chick flicks with cheesy one-liners, twenty-something actors playing sixteen-year-olds, and predictable love triangles.

you never got to navigate and, most importantly, surmount pubescent awkwardness, nor gush about crushes at sleepovers, because by your twelfth birthday, the dead somehow began to roam the earth.

out of sheer necessity, you’d eschewed any shot at teenage romance for survival skills, and effectively turned into a wallflower when you rejoined civilized society.

a gentle tap on your shoulder snapped you out of your reverie.

“hey.”

there stood the very reason you were even thinking about early-2000s romance movies in the first place: a chronically flannel-clad, one-eyed cowboy, notorious for merely sharing the same last name as the de facto leader of alexandria, now two feet in front of you holding a shot glass of fruit punch.

“didn’t mean to scare you.” he says with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“the only thing that’s scaring me is what you’re using as a vessel for your fruit punch.”

“everyone used up all the solo cups so i had to dig around in the cabinets,” he replies nonchalantly, holding up the glass. “why are you out here?”

why were you out here?

…

you can’t even remember.

“i don’t know.”

it’s hard to think, much less remember, anything when carl’s looking at you like that, arms crossed and leaning forward onto the banister, blue eyes boring into your own.

“did you even hear me?” he taps your hand that’s resting on the ledge gently, his lips quirking up with the ghost of an amused smile.

your eyes flick up to meet his attentively. “…what?”

“wow, you’re really out of it today,” he laughs, sipping from his shot glass. “forget it.”

you shift your weight, shaking your head. “well, i’m listening now, so tell me.”

his fingers are fidgeting with yours, you realize. tapping gently on your knuckles. intentionally, unintentionally? it was cute either way.

he tilts his head. “i just want to know what you’re thinking about.”

you shrug, as dismissively as you possibly can. swallowing down the butterflies that threatened to crawl into your throat.

“getting away from this stupid ass party.”

he raises an eyebrow, tone skeptical. “and?”

you narrow your eyes. it was a bad habit, using vitriol to mask your emotions. you were well aware. “what do you mean, ‘and’?”

“‘cause you’re smart,” his lips curl into a smirk. “that’s not all you’re thinking about. you’re never all…spaced out, like this.”

fuck you, carl grimes.

“i’m just tired,” you fib. your eyes drift to your hand, intertwined with carl’s, before quickly looking away. “you’re reading into it too much.”

“only because you’re not acting normal,” he teases, a dimpled grin gracing his features before he adds, “and you definitely would’ve pulled away by now if you didn’t want this.”

you steal a glance at your entangled hands again, heat rising to your face before you ask, skeptical, “what are you trying to do, exactly?”

“what do you think i’m trying to do?”

you glance to the side furtively, tongue-tied, still able to hear the muffled revelry through the shut screen door, before your eyes trace over his features again.

you wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face so badly.

tugging at the collar of his unbuttoned flannel, you shift your weight to the balls of your feet, connecting your lips to his fruit-punch-stained ones.

you swear you’ll never drink hawaiian punch, or any drink with red-40 in the ingredients list, again without imagining the taste of him lingering on your lips.

expression tinged with a gradient of conflicting emotions when you pull away, you open your mouth to say something— and then he pulls you in this time, words dying in your throat with a soft whimper.

the party fades into an afterthought until you hear the screen door open just around the corner, thudding against the frame. quickly, you disentangle yourself from his arms, faces still flushed.

it’s rick, his rugged, stubbled face and piercing gaze (so it must be hereditary, you wagered) flickering between the two of you suspiciously, nodding at you curtly.

“carl.”

thank god for your quick reflexes — those, at least, hadn’t deteriorated just because you were sheltered by alexandria.

carl swallows, freckled face flushed as he quickly looks at you, panic etched on his face. the evidence of your little affair conveniently disguised by the shadow of his cowboy hat and the darkness of the night.

“dad, can’t we stay a little longer?”

“think the party’s ‘bout over.”

you peer into the ajar casement windows, abandoned solo cups decorating the vacant living room, watching abraham stagger into the mudroom and nearly take a shelf with him when he topples forward. rosita, unamused, rolls her eyes, grumbling something unintelligible before dragging him along.

before the grimes family gets into a fight, you take it upon yourself to leave first, retrieving your cardigan that was hanging on the banister. “see you around, carl. bye, mr. grimes.”

both of them wave as you disappear into tree-lined streets, intermittently illuminated by uniform streetlights.

as soon as you’re out of earshot and out of sight, you let out a pleasant sigh, smiling from ear to ear like an absolute idiot as your hands reached up to feel your flushed cheeks, still hot to the touch as you giggle to yourself at the incredulity of it all.

at home, once the high had worn off, or more realistically, ebbed for the time being, you shed your cardigan, scrutinizing the crimson patches blooming on the side of your neck in the mirror, smiling like a fool.

these were the only kind of bites you’d ever tolerate.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Avocado & The Turnip (The Surprise, Part 8)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: established relationship, pregnancy times, fluffy fluff, kind of hurt/comfort (?), mentions of some pretty horrific crimes (duh), gunshot wound, some explicit language Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: A series of hard cases puts a strain on your relationship with Emily. Anxieties run high on both sides, and the reality of Emily's job–and the risks the come with it–feel even more real than usual now that there's going to be a child in the picture.

Week 16: The Avocado

“I just don’t know what to say to him,” Emily exclaimed, resting her chin on your stomach, a worried look on her face.

Your plans for an adorable evening of talking to the baby had backfired. For unknown reasons, Emily had come home in a bad mood, anxious and on edge. Somehow, the news that the baby could likely hear you now had only made her more anxious.

“You can say anything, Em. She’s the size of an avocado. She’s not gonna remember what we say; she’s gonna remember our voices.”

You ran your fingers through Emily’s hair, trying your best to alleviate some of her stress. You’d meant for this to be good news, to be a fun, cute little moment she could have with you and the baby after a brutal day at work.

“Tell her about your day,” you suggested.

Emily glared at you, and you felt yourself shrink. “I can’t tell him about my day!” she yelled, her voice angry. “What am I supposed to say? Hey, little man! I have to leave you tomorrow to go find a guy who’s murdering teenage boys by ripping their throats out with his teeth and then eating them. But don’t worry, I’ve only had to deal with, oh, ten or so cannibals over the years. The chances of you being cannibalized are slim. Never zero though!”

In your head, you knew that Emily’s outburst had nothing to do with you, nothing to do with the baby, and everything to do with the horrendous things she saw at work. She tried very hard not to bring work home with her, not to carry the weight of the horrors she saw every day into your house. But sometimes they stuck to her. Sometimes they dragged her down, and she couldn’t quite shake them. But it wasn’t often that she was mean. She hardly ever raised her voice at you. She knew it scared you.

You sat up and placed a hand protectively over your stomach, trying to keep your face set, impassive, but flinching a little as Emily moved toward you.

She was instantly full of regret. Her face fell as she noticed that your posture had changed from open to defensive, noticed the way your eyes had glazed over–a remnant of trauma.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she breathed, cupping your cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

You softened when you saw that she was close to crying–a rarity for Emily–and pulled her head to your chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she mumbled against you. “It was just a hard day.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” she asked, lifting her head a bit.

“Tell me,” you insisted. “I can handle it. You’re my wife. You had a bad day. I want to hear about it.”

Emily shook her head, her voice so quiet you almost couldn’t hear. “No, you don’t.”

“Hey,” you said, tilting her chin so she was looking in your eyes. “I can decide what’s too much for me, okay?” You rubbed your thumb back and forth along her cheek. “If I say I can handle it, I need you to believe me.”

Emily sighed, exhaling shakily. “You remember after we started dating?” she explained, her voice low. “And I had a really hard time at work because every victim who was a woman made me think of you?”

“I remember,” you answered. And you did. If there had ever been a time in your relationship when you would’ve broken up with Emily, that would have been it. She’d been angry, on edge, paranoid, and even more obsessive about work than usual. It had eventually gotten so bad that you’d given her an ultimatum–start going to therapy or this isn’t going to work. Nearly six years later, Emily still had a biweekly standing appointment with her therapist–unless, of course, she was in the field.

She played with your fingers, quiet for a moment. “It feels like that all over again, but with kids. Child victims are hard anyway, but… every tiny body I see, I just think of him and–” Her voice broke, and you held her a little tighter. “It scares the shit out of me.”

“Of course it does,” you assured her. “That just means you love her, baby. It means you’re gonna be a great mom. It makes sense that those cases hit closer to home right now.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to take it out on you. Or him.”

You exhaled slowly, kissing the top of her head again. “When was your last appointment with Angie?”

Emily sat up, stretching, and shrugged, looking guilty. “Last month, maybe? I just–I’ve been out on cases and…”

“I know, baby,” you said, taking her hands in yours before she could start biting her nails. “It’s okay. But, maybe you should call her and see if she can get you in. Even tonight, you know? Before you leave tomorrow. She does telehealth, doesn’t she?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

She still looked guilty and nervous. It broke your heart.

“Come here,” you said, tugging her onto your lap. She wrapped her arms and legs around you and hugged you like you were the only thing keeping her tethered to this world. And for your part–you held on like you’d never, ever let her go–and you never, ever would.

Week 17: The Turnip

“She what!?” you yelled into the phone, launching yourself off the couch and scrounging around in the junk drawer for your keys.

“Calm down, mama,” Derek soothed through the phone. “It’s just a surface wound. The bullet grazed her shoulder, that’s all.”

“That’s all!? My wife gets shot, and you’re telling me that’s all!?”

You heard a scuffle on the other end of the phone, a distant, sharp Give me the phone! and then there was Emily’s voice, flooding you with relief.

“Honey, I’m fine, I promise,” she said, and she certainly didn’t sound like she was dying.

“You got shot!”

“Just a little bit…” Her voice was sheepish.

You threw up your hands in frustration. “Emily Elizabeth Prentiss! You have a child coming. You can’t be getting shot!”

“I know, I know.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “What hospital are you at?”

“No, baby, you don’t need to come,” she protested.

“Don’t need to come, my ass,” you grumbled. “Where are you?”

Another scuffle and Derek had the phone back. “Y/N. Hey. We’re just in Baltimore, alright? She’ll probably be discharged here in a few minutes, and I’ll bring her home.”

You were still a little suspicious. “Straight home?”

“You have my word.”

It was the longest hour and a half of your life, sitting on the couch, watching the Find My dot of Emily inch its way home. You frowned when you saw her stop at El Rinconcito. That little shit. She was trying to buy you off with pupusas. Well, it wasn’t going to work. Your stomach rumbled. Well, it might work a little bit.

A half hour later, you heard the door unlock. Derek held it open for a very guilty looking Emily, who walked through the threshold with her arm bandaged and wrapped in a sling.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands fluttering all over her, gingerly touching the bandage and turning her face this way and that to check for more damage.

“I’m fine, honey,” she said, pressing her good hand to your face and kissing you.

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, unconvinced. “Tell that to your unborn child.”

Emily crouched down and pressed a kiss to your stomach. “Mommy’s just fine, little guy, don’t you worry.”

It was so cute, you couldn’t even be that mad.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Derek said, gesturing to the couch. “Get comfortable and let Uncle Derek take care of you.”

You grimaced, thinking of straight people things. “Eew.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “Not like that. Sit down and eat your pupusas, woman.”

You and Emily giggled, plopping yourselves on the couch, one on either side.

Derek threw blankets at you, and you got yourselves situated, your legs tangled in the middle. Derek plated the takeout and brought it to you.

“I could get used to this,” Emily said, taking a bite and running her foot up and down your leg.

“You better fucking not,” you mumbled through a bite of pupusa. “I don’t want you getting shot every time you want a lazy day.”

Derek brought you both glasses of water and set a bottle of pain meds on the side table next to Emily.

“Anything else I can do for you, ladies?” he asked. “Foot rub? Serenade? Grocery run?”

You smiled at him. He was so good to you. Both of you. “You’re gonna make some straight woman very happy.”

He bent down to ruffle your hair and to squeeze Emily’s good hand. “I’ll settle for my favorite lesbians for now. You need anything else before I go?”

Emily shook her head. “No, I think we’ll be okay. Thanks, Morgan.”

“Anytime, Prentiss,” he replied, giving her a small salute as he walked out the door. "Call me if you need anything."

The moment he left, you shot a glare at Emily. 

“What?” she said, trying and failing to shrug, thanks to her injured shoulder.

You couldn’t help the worried expression that took over your face.

“Please tell me you’re careful,” you pleaded, brushing a few unexpected tears from under your eyes.

“Y/N.” She sat up, alarmed, and reached for your hand. “I’m careful. I swear.”

“I just… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out,” she reassured, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand.

“We need you, Em,” you whispered, placing your other hand over your baby bump.

She winced a little as she moved forward, pulling your face toward her so she could stroke your cheek. “I’m never reckless, honey. I do everything I can to stay safe. I promise. I will always come home to you.”

You were quiet as she pressed her forehead to yours, breathing in the smell of her, the warmth. You both knew it was a promise she couldn't make, not with her job. But you needed Emily to understand that it wasn't just her she was staying safe for anymore. It was you and the little one, who deserved to grow up with both of her moms.

“Sometimes it scares me how much I love you,” you said, so quiet she almost didn’t hear.

Emily kissed your forehead, then pressed her lips to yours, soft and gentle. “Me too.”

She pecked you on the lips again, then brushed her thumb over your bottom lip. “But you don’t need to be scared today, okay?”

She smiled a little, and you nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Now, eat your pupusas,” she grinned, pinching your cheek.

[youngsadlesbian]

Tree and taylor babying (being v affectionate and cuddly) teenage taydaughter pls🙏🙏

CARING

pairing: taylor swift x daughter!reader

summary: you are lucky to have your mother and tree on difficult days to take care of you.

a/n: i'm in my mood for fluff things, so i hope you like it. and btw, thanks for the request <3

word count: 1k

warnings: fluff.

The roar of the crowd echoed through the stadium as you stood backstage, watching your mother perform yet another sold-out show on the Eras Tour. Taylor Swift — your mom — was, as usual, captivating the world. You were her proudest fan, snapping pictures and sending them to your best friend with captions like, "Just Mom doing Mom things, aka being an icon."

But tonight wasn’t like every other night. As you clapped along to Shake It Off, a dull, uncomfortable cramp gnawed at your abdomen. It wasn’t until the cramps sharpened during All Too Well  that the dreaded realization hit you: you were menstruating. And it wasn’t just any period—it was one of those periods.

The type where cramps felt like tiny jackhammers inside your body. You weren’t prepared. No supplies, no pain meds. You swallowed your discomfort, not wanting to make a scene or disrupt your mom’s big night.

You shuffled into the hotel suite after the show, doubled over slightly, hoping no one would notice. Taylor was still riding the high of her performance, all smiles and energy.

“How was it, sweetie? Pretty cool seeing your old lady nail that bridge live, huh?” she teased, dropping her stage persona and becoming just Mom.

“Yeah, it was amazing, as always,” you said, trying to muster enthusiasm while clutching your stomach discreetly.

Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “You okay? You’ve got that look. The same one you had when you tried to eat five slices of birthday cake last year.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, heading toward your room.

But Taylor wasn’t buying it. Neither was Tree Paine, your mom’s publicist and unofficial second mom, who had just walked into the suite. Tree, who had the observational skills of a hawk, caught your stiff walk immediately.

“She’s not fine,” Tree said, nudging Taylor. “Kid’s got a problem.”

“Excuse me,” you shot back, offended but secretly touched by the concern. “I’m fine.”

Taylor exchanged a knowing look with Tree. “Kid, spill it.”

You hesitated, but the discomfort was too much. “I… I think I just got my period. And it’s bad. Like, really bad.”

Taylor’s face morphed from rockstar cool to full-blown Mom Mode in seconds. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, pulling you into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’re Taylor Swift and you just did a three-hour show in heels. I didn’t want to bother you,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

“You’re never a bother. Ever,” she said firmly. “Tree, we’ve got a situation. Code Red. Literally.”

Tree nodded, already pulling out her phone. “On it. Heating pads, snacks, Midol. The works.”

Taylor had insisted that the day after the show would be dedicated to you. No interviews, no meetings, no rehearsals. It was a rare day off in the whirlwind that was the Eras Tour, and she planned to spend every second pampering her big baby.

You woke up to find a stack of supplies on your bedside table: heating pads, chocolates, and a glass of water. Taylor peeked her head into the room.

“You awake, kiddo?” she asked softly.

“Barely,” you groaned, clutching your stomach. “I feel like I’m being stabbed repeatedly.”

Taylor frowned, sitting on the edge of your bed and stroking your hair. “That bad, huh? Don’t worry, Mom’s got you.”

Tree entered the room with a bag of goodies. “Alright, troops,” she announced. “I’ve got herbal tea, a weighted blanket, and this fuzzy llama plushie. Because why not?”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite the pain. “A llama?”

“Llamas are soothing,” Tree said matter-of-factly, plopping the plushie onto your lap.

Taylor grinned. “See? You’ve got an entire dream team catering to you.”

The suite turned into a makeshift spa. Taylor had ordered every comfort food imaginable: mac and cheese, pizza, soup, and ice cream in flavors you didn’t even know existed. She let you pick the movies for the day, even sitting through a cringe-worthy rom-com without complaining.

As the credits rolled, Taylor stretched and turned to you. “You know, when I was your age, I used to get horrible cramps too. I’d lie on the floor with a heating pad and cry. Grandma Andrea would bring me chocolate chip cookies.”

“You cried?” you asked, surprised.

“Of course! Being a woman is tough. But you’re tougher,” she said, kissing your forehead. “And I’m here to make sure you never have to deal with it alone.”

Tree chimed in from the kitchen, where she was making another cup of tea. “If Taylor Swift had to go through it, you know it’s universal.”

You laughed. “Thanks, guys. Seriously. I didn’t expect to be babied this much.”

“That’s because you don’t ask for help enough,” Taylor said. “You’re so independent, but it’s okay to lean on people. Especially us.”

That night, as you curled up on the couch with Taylor and Tree, the tour felt a million miles away. Taylor pulled out her guitar and started strumming lazily.

“You know,” she said, looking at you, “I think this calls for a special song. A big baby ballad.”

“Oh no,” you groaned, laughing. “Please don’t.”

But Taylor ignored you, launching into a goofy, improvised song about heating pads and chocolate cravings. Even Tree joined in, banging a pot like a makeshift drum. The chaos filled the room with laughter, and for a moment, you forgot about the cramps entirely.

By the next day, you felt a little better, though still sore. Taylor hugged you tightly before heading to her next show. “Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. Even if it’s just to vent.”

“I promise,” you said. “Thanks, Mom.”

She smiled. “No thanks necessary. Taking care of you is my favorite thing in the world.”

As Taylor walked out the door, guitar slung over her shoulder, you realized how lucky you were to have her—not just as a mom, but as a person who always made you feel like you were her whole world.

And as Tree handed you one last fuzzy llama plushie “for the road,” you knew you’d treasure this memory forever.

[soap143]

would you mind making a mini fic of the photo booth incident with minchan with prompts #2 8 12 & 19???

Of course! I was actually thinking about writing it. I think Minho might have PTSD from all these photo booth incidents… Enjoy! (A little angst at the end I guess)

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

2 “wait! wait! i didn’t have enough time to prepare!”

8 “can you stop laughing? i’m trying to talk to you. how rude!”

12 “come on, let me see that smile!”

19 “i’ll never talk to you ever again.”

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

Stubborn

Lee!Minho

Ler!Chan

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

“Yah, why are you being like this” the leader scoffed, shoving Minho off his shoulder.

No matter how surprising this might sound, but the second oldest had forced Chan out of his dorm to hang out with him. Who could’ve though that the Lee Know would be the one begging to go out? Wonder why he would do that…

To say the truth, the mischevious bunny had woken up in a massive lee mood. And he felt like only Channie could satisfy it. Hypothetically, he could have asked Han to wreck him, but Minho just felt like Jisung’s tickles would not do the job. He was just stubborn like that.

Thanks to his mood, the dancer could not help but be all cute and clingy toward the older “Let’s go get ice cream, Channie-hyung~” Minho whined straight into the kangaroos ear for the hundredth time.

“Alright, Minnie, that is enough. What is up with you?” the aussie finally ran out of patience “Huh? Nothing, hyung. What could be wrong?” the cat lover naively answered, his boba eyes big and mouth slighly open in confusion.

Even though the leader, eventually, agreed to eat the bunny’s desired desert, he still remained suspicious of his bandmate’s strange behaviour.

Soon, Minchan were walking out of the shop with a an ice cream cone in each one’s hand “Is it good?” Chan asked, looking at Lee Know’s cone “No. Channie-hyung, you have your own ice cream. Don’t even try to bite mine.” Minho angrily rambled “Where’s the cute, clingy Minnie that was here just 20 minutes ago?” The leader of danceracha turned red at the comment “Shut up!”

They kept on walking until something cought the wolf’s attention “Is that a photo booth? I haven’t been in one ever since I was a teenager!” Chan childlishly giggled, dragging his grumpy companion by his arm “9000 won(thats’s 6.3eur)… Hyung, that’s like, expensive.” the bunny mumbled, looking at the price table “What? That’s pretty average, Minho” the older furrowed his eyebrows, digging thru his wallet.

Once the kangaroo took out the neccesary amount, he agressively showed the cat man into the tight space “Yah! Calm down, what’s wrong with you…” Lee Know whined, rubbing his shoulder which had been smashed into the thin metal wall “Ugh, this we’re going to be so cramped in here. Finish up your ice cream, quick!” Chan said, sitting down himself and getting the bills and coins out of the jacket pocket.

Like Channie had mentioned, there was not enought space for two grown men. So, he did the only thing he could think of “Come on, sit on my lap.” the leader instructed “WHAT?! No! That’s so weird…” Minho dramatically yelled. Can you blame him? He was afraid to trigger his mood even more. One arm around his sensitive waist would make his jump so high that he would bump his head on the ceiling of the photo booth.

“Why are you making such a fuss? We can’t fit in any other way. Just put one leg on my thigh. You know, partially sit on me. This doesn’t have to be strange if we don’t make it like that.” the mischevious bunny gave in, situating himself on his hyungs lap.

“See? Not that bad, is it? Why were you so dramatic anyway~” the aussie teased, lighly poking the taller’s sides. Like I mentioned earlier, that did end up eliciting quite a reaction…

The younger violently flinched, pushing the older’s hands away “What was thahat…? I didn’t think you were that ticklish…~” Oh, Channie was going to take advantage of their current position so badly “D-Don’t please. Let’s just tahahake the pictures and goho, Channie-hyung.” said man just smirked, only pulling his victim deeper into his hold.

“You know, I don’t understand how you were being so silly and adorable all day long, just to chicken out now. Why don’t you annoy me now? Huh? Are you, perhaps, afraid of the tickle monster?~” Lee Know could feel his ears reddening up at the wolf’s skilfull teasing “No, I’m n-not.” this was his last chance to avoid what this situation could, pottentialy turn into “Come on, let me see that smile!” In a desperate act, he covered his hot ears with his hands. Unfortunately, he handn’t though about the vulnerable position he would put himself in after doing that…

Not even a second after the dancer accidentally exposed most of his torso, the kangaroo harshly dug into Minho’s sides“Wait! Wait! I didn’t have enough time to prepare!” Chan just snickered, switching to the younger’s ribs “Come on, you’re gonna have to try harder to hide the fact that you like this than that~” the tickler pointed out. He was right though, the cat lover handn’t really moved his hands from the spot he was covering.

“IHIHIHIHI DOHOHOHOHON’T LIHIHIHIKE THIHIHIS, STOHOHOHOP!” Chan stopped tormenting his ribs and instead opted for quickly spidering and switching between the younger’s side, ribs and armpits “YOUHU’RE CRAHAHAHAZY!” it all soon became a bit too unbearable for the poor lee, as he had to bring down his arms to protect his sensitive torso.

“Oh, so now you’re trying to stop me? And you’re calling me crazy? Let’s see how like this then~” the aussie gripped the rabbit’s thighs, squeezing so quickly that Lee Know honestly thought he was about to ascend “NOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEASE CHAHAHAHAHANIE! MIHIHSTED BAHAHANG! CHRIHIHIHSTOPHER!” the poor boy called out every single name to make he could.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out! Wow, I don’t remeber your legs being that ticklish… What do you think about your knees? Would those be bad?” the elder teased, never letting go of the sensitive body part “ANYWHEHEHEHERE BUHUHT MY KNHEHEHES PLEHEHEHEHEASE!” the bratty cat lover tried to maneuver his way out of the situation.

“Nah, I think I’ll go just for your knees!” the older’s crazy fingers latched on firmly on to the mentioned spot, which was crazy ticklish “ANOTHEHEHEHER SPOHOHOHOT, ANO-ANOTHEHEHEHER SOHOHOT PLEHEHEASE” the dancer begged, leaning back all the way onto Chan “I didn’t hear a stop~” the leader mumbled into his dongsaeng’s back, only making the whole situation even more ticklish.

The wolf kept on switching tactics. Sometimes he would tickle the soft bottom of the knee, then he would claw at the equally as sensitive top. The worst was when he would use both hands on one knee “BAHAHAHAHAHAHA CHAHAHAN, I-I CAHAHAHAHAHAN’T” Lee Know shined through his hysteric laughter “Can you stop laughing? I’m trying to talk to you. how rude!”

The way that the aussie’s fingers stuck to Lee Know’s kneecaps made the victim crazy. He was sweaty, giggly, had messy hair, tears running down his neck. Did I mention his wine-red ears and face? Every single vein in his body was popping due to the uncontrollable cackles that kept on leaving his throat.

“Alright, I don’t want you to actually die. Yet.” the kangaroo lifted his torturous fingers, switching from mercilessly squeezing the taller’s knees with them to massaging Minho’s back with them “Wait, c-cahan you not stop here? I-I was liking this…” Minho shyly admitted.

“Oh? You want me to continue?” Chan dug into the muscle of Lee Know’s back, which wasn’t as ticklish as anywhere else, but was enough to elicit some cute giggles and squirms “Yehehehes, juhuhuhuhst lihihke thahahaht…!”

“Wow, your ears are soooo red, mister Lee. You should cover them up and keep your arms there before the tickle monster get them!” the childish teases were making the rabbit’s stomach do flips. He did listen though.

However, obeying Chan’s orders was a pretty rookie move. Once his arms were ocupied with protecting his sensitive ears, the aussie dug into the dancer’s hips, making him mive and twitch like a tube man “CHAHAHANIE PLEHEHEHEHEASE! NOHOHOHOHO” his pleads were totally ignored. I mean, why would Chan stop? His victim’s hands were not even trying to disturb him. They were still stuck on Lee Know’s ears.

“I think that’s enough now, Minho. You’re gonna pee yourself…” the wolf giggled “Yah! I’m not six years old!” the dancer protested, slapping his only hyung’s chest “Nof a six year old? You’re the one that enjoyed every second of this!” the leader pointed out.

Apparently the older’s joke wasn’t so funny to the cat lover “You think it’s weird, do you?” Minho sighed, starting to get off the kangaroo’s lap, thinking he migh be uncomfortable now that he knows the truth “Wait, wait, wait! It’s nor weird! It’s sooo very cute. Like, Minho. That is the most adorable thing I’ve heard ever. I’m so glad that you like this!” the leader reassured, forcing Lee Know back onto his lap.

“I was scared for a second… Although I don’t think I’m gonna be safe from your tickles ever again” the mischevious bunny commented “Now that I know that you enjoy this, prepare yourself for at least 3 or 4 tickle sessions daily.” the second oldest’s eyes quickly filled up with fear, as he scrambled away as fast he could out of the vulnerable position he was in. “I’ll never talk to you again”

Or will he…?

•• ━━━━━━━ •• ❖ •• ━━━━━━━ ••

This one is shorter, but I think it’s pretty good! I live, laugh, love for lee!know. It’s even in his name! Happy holidays❤️🙂

[theeccentricraven]

The 13th Day of Writemas 🤶🎅🍒❤️🎀🛷

Another day of Writemas thanks to @agirlandherquill 💚🤍🫂 I feel that Friday the 13th in December isn't so scary because the Christmas cheer cancels out bad luck, and because I have bad luck everyday anyway 😄

For the Day 13 Writing Prompt list, I chose the narration prompt: "The damage was done. The ruin irreparable. It would leave scars and plenty of them, but at least, along with the pain, there remained a story to tell." I liked this and thought of how I could use it in the opening of Brigid Aideen. This novel is a YA Scifi fantasy superhero story. I tried to write Draft 1 about ten years ago, but it miserably failed. So now I'm going to try again. I like how these writing prompts have helped me work on Draft 2 AND Draft 3 of my main WIP and helped me get started on three other WIPs. Ah 2025 will be a fun year 😃Content warning: The story deals with a sensitive topic. I'll be careful with what I sample and post.

Also if you'd like to join this tag game, check out the invitation post.

__________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

That’s me, the dark-haired teenage girl you see on the hospital bed in the trauma center. You may see that my eyes tell of the invisible blows hitting my essence. I curl in a fetal position and cry. I tell the hospital staff to leave me alone. I know I need to see a counselor soon. No backstroke or healing touch can stop a girl’s cry. I know that I’m not alone among the other patients - women and girls who emerged from the darkest moments of their lives. I still feel alone. I don’t understand why I had to survive to live with this hell in my head. I look back to the moment mere hours ago that changed my life forever and brought me here. The damage was done. The ruin, irreparable. It would leave scars and plenty of them, but at least, along with the pain, there remained a story to tell. And so I tell that story, all the way to where it began. How did I come here? How did this all happen? Where did I come from? How did everything come down to this? Why? Who am I really? Why don’t I bleed when reason says that I should? Imagine a slim, dark-eyed sixteen-year-old girl, nervously carrying a box of Mom’s favorite Delft Blue up the stone stairs to the new house. That same ginger-haired mother carries my crying two-year old sister right behind me. My dark-haired Dad carries a box of books. My younger brother closest to my age, who looks almost exactly like our dad, carries the Samsung TV. My other frisky junior high brother carries the boxed bookshelf that will house the books in my Dad’s box. My little sister and little brother play on the lawn, him proudly holding the ball that our youngest sister cried over losing. Actually, I have to go back further to what my brother said before hell broke loose. We are in our family van, big enough to hold my parents and us six kids. Dad is driving. Twelve year old Tyler sits in the passenger seat, playing Skyrim on his Switch. Mom is in the middle seat with the two youngest, six year old Roger drawing in a color book while two year old Ashley eats her Cheerios. In the back, nine year old Kathy sits by the window reading Anne of Green Gables. Fourteen year old Patrick sits in the middle, reading a Naruto book. As for me, I’ve held two things for much of our trip. My Samsung Galaxy in one hand. My lacrosse stick in my other hand. When I’m not looking at the things in my hands, I’m looking out the window. Watching the country before me has given me a lot of time to think. Did Paula stop caring for me? Did she have a problem that she never told me? Will Alana continue to message me? Will I share her pictures in my lacrosse gear at my new school? Will Alana dump me like Paula did? What is my purpose in life? I swing around my stick. I’m going to show my new school that I’ll be a rockstar player. ____________________________________________________________

Happy Holidays to the writing mutuals I tag 🎄🦌❄️👼☃️🎶🕯️🔔⛸️🧝🥁🏂⛷️🎁

@sunflowerrosy @furrywrit3r @wyked-ao3 @selenekallanwriter @drchenquill

@revenantlore @whatwewrotepodcast @jay-avian @constellationandcompendium @olivescales3

@ryns-ramblings @primroseprime2019 @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @kitty-is-writing

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[dangeroustaintedflawed]

what is highschool like now

i’m from england so idk if u ask this from the perspective of another country, and i don’t attend highschool anymore, i go to a sixth form college now which is different to a high school experience.

but about my old high school, it’s still as unbearable as i’d guess it used to be. there are still mean girls everywhere who are somehow always the teachers favourites. they also always laugh really obnoxiously. emo / theatre kids are really the coolest despite the rest of the school hating them and making fun of them. music and art departments are magical. the music teachers are like wise gods from above... other teachers don’t really give much of a shit about you, they only give a shit about ur skirt length and whether the amount of makeup u wear is appropriate. my head teacher was very obsessed with the idea of our school being a “family” but everyone hated each other and talked shit about each other. there are still nasty couples who are way too heavy on PDA… . if you go to a religious highschool like i did - almost no one is religious. librarians are very kind when u have no friends and recommend books to you that kinda change ur life. school fights in my experience are surprisingly uncommon. i only witnessed maybe 2 or 3. i guess fighting happens more online maybe. also a lot of high schools have people that make like meme pages for them ? like they make tiktok accounts with memes about in school drama or they post bad pictures of people from school and make fun of them. the majority of teenage boys are misogynistic horny freaks who use tiktok / twitter way too much and don’t know how to talk to girls. or they’re really mean and they make a lot of fat jokes or racist jokes. homophobia is totally rampant too but the gay kids don’t give a fuck. and the art of eating lunch alone in the bathroom is still thriving…

[simslegacy5083]

Today's (11/12/2024) Episode: Prank Day Potluck

“This potluck is such a delight” Luigi lied, wishing he had stuck to the plates he had prepared himself earlier. He didn’t want to hurt his friend’s feelings, especially when he knew the issue was less their dishes and more his very high culinary expectations.

Skye was glad no one was asking him about his meal. The bangers and mash Isra had made had looked quite tasty, but something about the combination of greasy sausage and fluffy potato really weren’t doing his tummy any favors.

Once everyone was finished eating, they broke into small groups to catch up with each other and enjoy some fun in the sun.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better.” Skye told Bruce as he and Elyse sat with the other kids, “My dad said you got hurt pretty bad at the trials.”

“Tales of my downfall were greatly exaggerated” the teen quickly replied. Elyse, who shared classes with Bruce at Copperdale and had seen him hobbling around after he’d been cleared by his doctor to return rolled her eyes but didn’t comment.

“Anyway” Bruce continued “the trials were stupid, but I heard a wild story there. Did you know that stargazing can get you abducted? This guy I met heard it from a guy whose cousin works at the science lab.” Skye listened, rapt. Who knew using a telescope could be so dangerous!?

“I can’t believe Skye is almost a teenager!” Noemi lamented to her girlfriends “I swear some days it seems like only yesterday I was waddling around the university, feeling as big as a house, wishing the desks were bigger and my classes were closer together!”

Breanne laughed. “The teen years will fly by too, believe me. It seems like only yesterday my oldest girl Bailey was dating the captain of the chess team, and now she’s married and expecting her second little one.” “Congratulations!” the others chorused.

“So, do you want to host Skye’s birthday party at our place again?” Isra asked. “Thanks” Noemi replied “but Luigi and I are planning to take him on one last trip with just the three of us. Once he ages up, I’m not sure when we’ll get to see him again without making an appointment with Elyse first.” Isra chuckled “So you say, yet I seem to recall both our kids spent all morning at your house!”

“Sheesh, someone needs to lay off the garlic noodles!” Beau complained, holding his nose while waving his hand in Luigi’s direction.

“What!? That wasn’t me!” Luigi protested before his friend started laughing uproariously “Gotcha!” “Argh, I should have known! I’ll get you back for that, just you wait” Luigi told him as the men enjoyed a game of cards.

“Hey, when will you have that Cyberworld item from the Expansion Pack ready for us try out?” Rhys asked, tactfully changing the subject. “I can’t wait to battle myself in the game!” Beau agreed, adding with a grin: “and I can’t wait to have another way to kick both your butts! Seriously man, let’s test it!”

“Soon” Luigi promised “we’re still working out some kinks in the interface. Creating a virtual world within a virtual world turned out to be significantly more difficult than it seemed; but I just know its going to be awesome when we get it right.”

“Thanks for agreeing to help with the motion capture and voice your NPCs.” he continued, before turning back to Beau “I think the new candle making hobby is going to go over well too. I don’t know how Breanne does it all day, my fingers were sore for hours after my visit!”

“My wife is a pro” Beau smiled proudly “only noobs like your highness get singed every 5 minutes!” he laughed “Honestly though, thank you for thinking of her. She was thrilled to participate and having the official hobby lot in the game be modeled after her shop was very flattering.”

After a few more hours talking, pranking, and enjoying some snorkeling and deep-sea diving in the waters surrounding the bungalow Luigi and his family said their goodbyes and headed home, happy to have spent a wonderful day enjoying one of their favorite holidays with some of their favorite sims.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[linnoya-writes]

Zutara Childhood-Friends-to-Lovers Alter-Egos Forbidden-Romance AU (part I)

Their first kiss comes at the absolute worst time, with Katara and Zuko exchanging fruit under his late mother’s favorite tree in the palace gardens.  It comes with a disagreement between Fire Lord Iroh and Chieftain Hakoda of the WaterTribes.

A Southern tribesman and two of the palace guards are the ones who walk in on the teenagers’ awkward little kiss. 

The Southern tribesman coughs for attention; Zuko flinches and Katara jerks her head away.  Her cheeks are so flushed, Katara barely recognizes her father’s guard. Whatever he’s there for, it’s not good. 

“Lady Katara, I’ve been ordered to escort you back to the ship. We leave port tonight.”

Immediately, her world caves in. “W—What?”

“What’s going on?” Zuko can’t help but interject in that voice that is both regal and concerned.  As they stand up, Katara feels her frame staying close to his.

“I’m afraid I cannot disclose anything else, your highness,” the kinsman bows his head to Zuko respectfully, and the palace guards approach almost instinctively. “My orders are only to take our princess home.” 

The way he’s suddenly referring to her so possessively, and distantly, it makes her brows furrow.

“Kievel—“ it takes her a century to remember this man’s name, “There has to be some mistake.  Sokka and I still have a few more weeks here!”

“Let me talk to my uncle," Zuko rasps to her, "they should still be at the council meeting.” 

“Your highness, council has already adjourned," Kievel chimes in. "His lordship expects you and her highness Azula to meet him at the royal hall before any more news goes public.” 

Katara can see Zuko’s eyes widening into a confused, unexpected gold. This is bad, she thought, and yet her fingers instinctively searching for Zuko’s knuckles.

Staring at the guards, Katara and Zuko find their fingers entwining in the obscure folds of their robes. She can feel Zuko’s hand still holding some kind of fruit, the little shivers in his finger debating whether to let it drop to the ground, if it meant he could hold her hand just for that little moment. 

“Princess…” Kievel brought them back to the present. “…it’s time to go.”

They glance at each other, looking like they’d lived a glacial sixteen and fourteen years for a moment like this to happen… and yet here it was… so easily being taken away.  It wasn’t fair. 

The glistening of his eyes said exactly that, but the flaming gold said something else: I don't regret it. 

And Katara met him with her glimmering blue eyes.

Me neither.

As she stepped forward and their secret hands parted, Zuko instinctively let her grab hold of the fruit he’d kept curled in his hand. The last thing Katara saw was his serious face, sandwiched between his two guards.  He seemed so stern, regal and untouchable, but his eyes spoke of hope. 

Katara could only imagine that she would see him again, that whatever this premature separation was about would someday eventually fade.  She waited until making it to the dock to finally pull out the fruit from her robes.  It was a plum-- ripe and ready for eating-- the size of tiny goose-otter egg.

She smiled, keeping it in her robe pockets as a parting gift to take for her long journey back home… feeling like a part of her had still remained under the shade of that tree with her best friend.  It wasn’t until she saw Sokka at the dock that she learned the gravity of this separation; their countries were in a feud regarding the discovery of a remote island off the Fire Nation's archipelago, the Water Tribe proclaiming it an ancient burial site of their ancestors and arguing how this island should be deemed theirs. This feud has halted their their trade agreement, and they are willing to readdress it after a ten-year separation.

“TEN YEARS!?”

She as princess of the WaterTribe was forbidden to touch ground in the Fire Nation for ten years, and the idea of not seeing Zuko for that length of time…

“No— that can’t happen.” 

“Katara, it’s done.  It’s the law.” 

“Well, the law stinks!” 

Before she can even think of making her way back to the palace gate, the Watertribe guards hold her back with a Water-bending wall.  And in the distance, she could see a faint figure trying to wrestle his way past his own guards at the beacon point.

The way he'd been so athletic and agile as The Blue Spirit back when they were kids, Katara didn't have to guess who it was. 

His voice bellowed. “I said,' Let me through!'  You can’t do this— I- I HAVE to talk to her!” 

“Zuko!?”

She didn’t care if she referred to him so informally, or that her voice echoed through the entire capital, or that Sokka was grabbing her wrist and edging her back towards their ship. 

She could see his face softening as he saw her.

“Katara— I— I’m so sorry.” 

“No— it’s not your fault. This isn’t over, okay? I love you.” 

There was an abysmal wave gasps at the dock, and Katara didn’t care- she was only speaking to one person, anyway. Zuko was also taken aback, amazed as much as the others surrounding them by the sheer boldness his best friend had chosen to demonstrate.

His heart pounded in his chest, feeling that same boldness take root inside of him more and more.

Zuko breathed, and spoke out, “I love you too.”

And with those words, Katara could almost feel his warmth next to her, hands grazing… lips touching…

No, it wasn’t over. 

“I’ll see you,” he shouted, his hands gripping the rails of the beacon. 

“See you," came her reply. 

It’s what they’d always said to each other as young playmates in the palace, always on the day that Katara would have to to leave Zuko's side at the end of summer… but it felt different this time, because the tides had turned so monumentally. 

They could feel themselves becoming something else. 

When she finally boarded the ship, Katara could hear Sokka muttering that she was an idiot to say something like that out loud. 

Katara wasn’t listening. Instead, she was looking down at her hand, at her little plum. And as the ship set sail, she started to take little bites of the fruit... savoring the sweetness of it… thinking about the seed, and wondering if it was possible to raise a plum tree in the arctic tundras of the south. 

[uloelu]

Location: Lykke Center, Windenburg

(transcript under the cut)

Previous (Part 2) | Next

Here's the third and final part! Hope you enjoyed this episode centered around the foster moms. I'd been waiting for the best moment to introduce them to you! You'll see them here and there in the future, and I hope to give them at least one joint episode per season.

Episode 5: Mother, Mother - Part 3

Scene 4 - Leuchtterm Bar und Grille, Lykke Center, Windenburg

[Evening breaks at a restaurant in town…]

Eva Capricciosa (Maître d'): Leuchtterm, how may I help you?

Clara Bjergsen: Björn, for God’s sake, stop sulking.

Patron: ...and then I told her, my daughter does not have bad gas!

Malcolm Landgraab (thinking to himself): This place is a fucking dump. Couldn't we have gone anywhere else?

Geoffrey Landgraab: Have a good day at school, Malcolm?

[Audreyanna sits with her father and his much younger fiancée. All are on their phones; little conversation is being made.]

Lloyd Brookestone: So…a little birdie told me that someone’s living in a full house.

Brylee O’Donnell: Yeah! You’re so odd, Anna. Fostering six teenagers? Is that even legal?

Audreyanna (thinking to herself): God-fucking-damnit

Audreyanna: It’s Audreyanna, thanks. Why am I not surprised that you two stalked me again? Was moving to Germany not a big enough hint?

Lloyd: I have my ways. And hey, I’m still your old man. You could have told me! I would have loved to advise you during the process.

Audreyanna: Like you’ve had experience with the foster system.

Lloyd: Maybe not, but I’ve had experience raising a teenager. Come on, Audreyanna, six kids? Talk about a trial by fire! (pauses) Besides, you’re not the only one expanding the Brookestone family…

Audreyanna (thinking to herself): You’ve got to be kidding me.

[Brylee and Audreyanna stand up so the former can display her slightly pregnant stomach.]

Brylee: Surprise! We wanted to tell you in person. Lloyd and I are going to be parents!

Audreyanna: What the fuck?!

Lloyd: Now, I know this is a bit unexpected…

[Brylee yawns loudly.]

Audreyanna: Unexpected isn’t the word, Dad. You mean to tell me that you got her pregnant? Has her frontal lobe even finished developing? Not to mention, you found out I’m going through something as big as fostering teens for the first time…and you decided to launch your fucking baby the first time we talked about it?

Brylee: Anna, don’t tear his head—

Audreyanna: How many times do I have to tell you that you can’t call me that?

Brylee: Okay, I know that we haven’t been the best of friends, but I thought you’d be happy for me. You know, as a woman.

Audreyanna: As a woman? You’re barely out of college! Shacking up with a 73-year-old man!

Lloyd (thinking to himself): I’ll just stay out of this one.

Brylee: Oh, and you’re so high and mighty, huh? Isn’t Evelyn older than you?

Audreyanna: …what? I mean, yeah, by ten months!

Brylee: There you go. I’m an adult perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I’m not trying to be your stepmom here.

Audreyanna: No, you’re just trying to give birth to a sibling that’s fifty years younger than me!

Brylee: Then ignore their existence! You’re pretty good at that. After all, isn’t what you’ve been doing to us?

Silence.

Lloyd: You’ve always been careful about hiding your life from me, Audreyanna. I don’t understand it, but fine. As long as you respect that we’re making our own life choices, too.

[The waiter arrives.]

Waiter: You guys ready to order?

Audreyanna: Please.

Geoffrey: Malcolm, it’s almost been an hour. The sun’s already set. Can you please just pick something to eat?

Malcolm: How does anyone eat this garbage food? I’ll just get a water.

[Some time later, the waiter reappears with the trio’s food.]

Waiter: Here you go. My, you guys are quiet all of a sudden.

[They dig in.]

Brylee: Gosh, this fake chicken is really delish! A fine testament to the wonders of tofu.

Audreyanna: Tofu, huh? I feel for that baby.

Brylee: If you must know, my doctor says it’s perfectly fine to—

Audreyanna: I don’t care that you’re vegan, Brylee. Just feed that kid greens or something. Anything but tofu.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Catch and Release

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: AU where Jason doesn't die in the explosion and he and Tim end up attending the same high school months later.

Chapters: 13/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Sebastian Ives, Jack Drake, Janet Drake

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tag: Jason Todd Lives, Jason Todd-centric, POV Jason Todd, POV First Person, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake Has Issues, Tim Drake is Not Robin, Jason Todd is Not Robin (Anymore), Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth Knows, Stalker Tim Drake, Jason Todd Has Chronic Pain, Jason Todd Has PTSD, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unlikely Friends, Injury Recovery, Emotional Baggage, Rage, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating

Chapter Thirteen: Outburst

Tim’s parents had to leave early one afternoon before dinner. I’d grown attached to Tim’s mom and dad. Especially Janet… And I knew why. I sat in the living room with Tim while he ate popcorn. “Tell them to stay,” I whispered.

Tim looked at me like I had two heads. “Why would I do that? They’ve been planning the Zanzibar trip for months. We’re here by ourselves all the time,” Tim replied. I shrugged, swallowing hard as I tried to seem like a normal human being. “Popcorn. Eat. Movie. Watch.”

Janet passed by my side of the couch, and I made eye contact with her. It was stupid and desperate and-. I cried. Tim was appalled, Janet was bewildered, and Mr. Drake was-. Well, he was uncomfortable. “Jason, what’s wrong?” Janet asked. She kneeled beside me and touched my face.

As soon as I started crying, I realized it was wrong. “Nothing… I’m sorry,” I replied, “I’m sorry. I just-. It’s dumb.”

“So dumb,” Tim muttered as he shoved the popcorn bowl in my arms. He stormed out of the room, and Janet felt split between us, so I wiped my tears away and made it easy for her. I stood up and chased Tim.

“Tim, I’m sorry,” I whimpered. He rushed upstairs, and I limped upstairs after him. “Tim, wait-.”

“What’s your deal? They’re my parents,” Tim whispered. He had every right to be angry with me.

“I said I was sorry. Tim, it was a stupid reflex,” I whispered, “I didn’t realize how much I miss my mom… I looked at your mom, and it-. Tim, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Tim crossed his arms, but his expression softened. His eyes scanned me as he sighed. “Jason, you’re not my friend… You’re my brother, and I’m being selfish,” Tim mumbled, “There’s no reason why we can’t share parents.”

I rubbed my neck, still embarrassed by my outburst. “Tim, you don’t have to pretend you’re okay with-.”

“Jason, we’ve shared a bed. I know all your secrets. You know all mine… We spend every moment of every day together, and I have never been happier. I think-. My parents are hardly ever around, and it hurts. It’s gonna hurt a lot until you stop caring,” Tim explained, “I don’t want you to like my parents because I don’t want you to get your hopes up. You want a mom and dad that stay home and support you and have nice family dinners-. I hate that it’s not that way… But it’ll never be. Look downstairs. They’re gone because they couldn’t be late for their flight.”

I frowned. He was right. I got caught up in the delusion that they could be more than what they were. “I’m glad you don’t hate me… Can we finish the movie?” I asked. Tim nodded. The maid went to bed, and Tim pulled out his laptop.

He’d been itching to return to our plan despite me telling him parts of what was going on. “Jason, when are we gonna go through with the plan?” Tim questioned.

“Halloween… Or New Year’s… We’ve gotta wait for a time when people are extra weird because it’s harder for him to sift through the actual threats and the costumed partygoers,” I explained, “So, while everyone’s having the time of their life… We’ll show him that a couple of teenagers can do his job as well as he can.” Tim grinned.

“What were you gonna make for dinner?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know… Maybe quesadillas. Why?” I questioned.

Tim shrugged. He took the popcorn bowl from me and stared at the TV. “Last night… After you went to bed, I sat with my mom in her office. She told me she was worried I wasn’t happy. Mom was right… I hadn’t been happy. I was sort of-. I dunno… I was alive, but I wasn’t living. I have friends and stuff, but they don’t get me like you do. This is the happiest I’ve been since I was a little kid,” Tim confessed. I hugged my knees and nodded. “I don’t want to be alone anymore. So, I hope that after the plan’s over, and-.”

“Brothers, Tim. We’re brothers. This isn’t some group project where we part ways at the end. I promise,” I reassured him. Family was everything. He fell asleep after the movie ended. His arms lay limp at his sides while the popcorn bowl sat empty on his lap. I chuckled at his loosened jaw and open mouth.

*

Janet and Mr. Drake wouldn’t be back for at least three weeks. We finished Tim’s Robin costume by then, perfectly recreating my old one. That’s when we received a postcard. Tim tossed it in a box filled with other postcards. Our school closed for a few days for building maintenance… Which left us some time to goof around at the mall. We got milkshakes the size of our heads and walked through half the stores on the second level. It almost felt normal until I saw Bruce. “Tim, let’s go downstairs-.”

“Jason, it’s nice to see-.”

“It’s not nice for me,” I interrupted. Tim couldn’t look up from his drink.

“Well, I-. Don’t I have a right to know what you’ve been up to?” Bruce questioned.

“I’m gonna take Tim out of town,” I answered, “We’re killing time.”

“Overnight trip?” Bruce asked.

“Uh-huh… You want to hug me, don’t you?” I asked. Bruce nodded. I embraced him because I wanted to. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my face into his chest. He smelled like fresh pine. Bruce rested his chin on top of my head. “I’m not coming home.”

Bruce didn’t immediately let go. “I know… Thanks for humoring me,” Bruce whispered.

“I’m not humoring you… I’m only hugging you because I miss you,” I confessed. It didn’t mean I forgave Bruce.

Bruce let go. “Go have fun,” Bruce whispered. He patted me on the shoulder as he left the store.

“What was that?” Tim asked.

I playfully knocked into Tim. “It’s complicated… Let’s get going. I wanna get a ferry out of here before it gets dark,” I whispered. Tim smiled as he followed me to the food court to get another milkshake, and we left the mall.

Tim shivered involuntarily. “I think these things have caffeine,” Tim laughed as the autumn breeze hit us. I snorted.

“Of course it does,” I chuckled. Tim and I walked to the train, and I sighed. “I’m not mad at him anymore… I’m not going home on principle.”

“What’s the principle?” Tim asked.

“The plan… And Bruce still hasn’t changed his mind about me,” I explained, “He’s wrong.”

Before Tim could reply, some guy pressed his pointer fingers to the back of our spines. “Oww!” I shrieked as I dropped to my knees. Everyone at the stop stared as I curled into a ball and pretended to be in excruciating pain. It wasn’t hard to sell it. I’d been there. The guy ran off, and Tim helped me up.

“Jeez, are you-? You were faking, weren’t you?” Tim half-smiled. I nodded as I dusted my clothes off.

“We’re lucky the train’s coming because we would’ve had to fight him… And that would’ve raised questions,” I whispered, “Besides, we wanna get to the ferry before it gets too dark.”

[nyxlaufeyson]

Waffle House

Main Masterlist - Marvel Fics

POV: Third

Ship: None, just Avengers & Avengers

Type: Fluff + Crack

Wordcount: 1,044

Synopsis: The Avengers get back from their latest mission at ungodly hours of the morning, and take their starving selves to the only place open, Waffle House.

A/N: This literally spawned in my mind and it's so 2010s Avenger's Tower fics where everyone is happy and not dead and stuff. Enjoy.

At three o’ clock in the morning, the Avengers had just made it back to the compound, and they were exhausted. Their most recent mission had been both physically and mentally taxing, and everyone wanted to get some much-deserved rest. 

The problem was that nobody wanted to go to bed on an empty stomach, and nobody wanted to take the time to make a meal for a big group. Plus, they had been out all week, so the fridge and pantry both proved useless. Tony couldn’t get a hold of the usual places they ordered food delivery from, and almost everywhere was closed.

So, begrudgingly, everyone piled into a few cars and went into town to find somewhere to eat. Most places were closed, until they saw the bright yellow lights of the legendary Waffle House.

The cars pulled into the parking lot, and a few people groaned. Steve glared at them. “Look, this is the only place that seems to be open, so starve if you want. I’m going to get some food.” Steve had never been to a Waffle House, but he wasn’t opposed to breakfast foods at ungodly hours of the morning, especially when he was as hungry as he was.

Everyone piled into the seats, and they took up most of the small building. A tired-looking teenager handed out some menu cards for them. The poor teen didn’t even recognize them until he handed one to Steve. 

She scrunched her eyebrows. “Do I know you?” She asked, oblivious to who she was talking to.

Steve looked sheepish, but Tony was very much not. “Ah, that’s Captain America right there.” Tony patted Steve on the back. “We’re the Avengers.”

The girl’s eyes widened, taking in the information. Unfortunately, because her mind wasn’t functioning, she didn’t really process it. “Uh huh… What can I get you to drink?”

Several members got sodas, despite the caffeine, because they doubted that anything could keep them from sleeping once they finally made it to bed. Peter got orange juice, of course, and Tony tried to order alcohol but was met with a blank stare from the server and instead ordered a simple coke. Tony had been to Waffle House, and he knew they didn’t serve alcohol, but he still figured it was worth a shot. 

There wasn’t a lot of chatter that happened between everyone. Loki told everyone that the food options they had on Midgard were atrocious, prompting Thor to tell Loki that he had bad taste in food. If Loki hadn’t been tired as well, Thor would be on the floor with a dagger in his abdomen. 

Natasha and Clint quietly discussed the recent mission, trying to stay awake. Wanda tried to get the grime out from under her nails while Peter told everyone jokes to liven up the mood.

The worker came back and collected orders. With the insane amount of food that the group ordered, she alerted them that it might take a little longer than usual because it was three A.M. and there were only two people on staff.

Even if he was tired, Thor was still significantly loud. As he was talking to Bruce, his thundering voice attracted the attention of the line cook who had begun making hashbrowns. The man turned his head to look at the group, also not recognizing them. His co-worker came up to him. 

“What’s their deal? Theater troupe or something? They seem to still be in costume.” He didn’t recognize the red, white, and blue suit that Steve had on, or maybe he was just too high and his senses were clouded. 

The girl shrugged. “I don’t know, don’t care, let’s just get them their food so they can leave.” She said, beginning to help him prep the food. She didn’t usually make the food, but when you have minimal staff on hand and are feeding literal gods and superhumans, you have to make-do. Especially when Thor alone ordered a stack of pancakes.

“What do you call an alligator wearing a vest?” Peter asked the group, earning no response. He didn’t care, continuing on with the joke. “An In-Vest-Igator!”

Tony sighed, shaking his head. “Kid, we really have to work on your jokes.”

Loki, overhearing Peter’s joke, tilted his head. “You know, I met an alligator version of myself once.” 

Bruce looked confused and exasperated, as he usually did. “You know, I don’t know what to do with that information.” He said, just as the food started to be delivered.

Everyone dug in, tired of the crappy mission food they had been living on. Even if he complained some, Loki still cleaned his plate. When they were done eating, there was barely a crumb. Bucky reached for the last piece of piece of bacon on his plate, but Sam stole it out from under him.

This wasn’t the smartest idea, and Bucky would have punched Sam in the face if it wasn’t for his dislocated shoulder on his non-metal arm. He could hit Sam with his metal arm, but that could easily kill him, and even as angry as he was, he didn’t want that. However, Bucky made sure to make a mental note to get Sam back when he wasn’t as tired.

Once everyone was done, they paid, and Tony made sure to leave a hefty tip. The Avengers filed back out, half-asleep now that they had eaten. Steve drove them back to the tower, and everyone went straight to bed. Except for Wanda, who took a quick shower beforehand because she hated going to sleep with blood on her. Even if it wasn’t hers.

Back at the Waffle House, the two underpaid workers stared at the money that was left for them. “Holy shit.” the girl said, a little more awake now that there was an insane amount of money involved. 

The guy grabbed the money, and they split it half-half. He put the money in his pocket. “This feels illegal.” 

“Who the fuck cares!?” The girl said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I can fucking quit, baby!” 

Of course, she couldn’t actually quit because she still needed to keep an income to pay for student loans and all that shit. But still, it was a nice thought.

TAGS: (Comment or inbox me to be added/removed; along with what to be tagged for): @michief-dream @iceeericeee

[clara-aeri]

Love how you handled the different Zeldas in your Advent fic. And how you write Link in Rootsverse, it's exactly how I see him in this era. Do you have any thoughts about the other Links in other games? How they compare/contrast with botw/totk's Link?

Oh thank you!! 😊 Glad to hear that!!!

Boy do I have thoughts.

I guess- I should say that the way I wrote Link in Roots is definitely not how I’d imagine him to be in cannon. If only because I feel Nintendo values the self-insert aspect of the Zelda games too much to let the character stray very far from the “stoic hero” archetype. If anything, the Link I wrote in Undertow is the most similar to how I’d imagine his canon self to be- largely just due to how he doesn’t outright reject his responsibilities (pre calamity at least. I do subscribe to the idea that he’s much louder and funnier after losing his memories).

Agh- but anyway lol see my rambling below.

Starting with Ocarina of Time (OoT), that version of Link is definitely sadder than the others. He had a pretty good childhood, but his adult life fell apart in much more profound ways than the others’. He’d be as quiet as pre calamity botw Link. There might be a hint of the mischievous fairy kid still left in him, but very little. Lots of longing and disillusioned feelings that would maybe be best replicated in pre calamity Botw Link, yeah?

As for Twilight Princess (TP) Link, he’s a country guy 110%. I imagine he’d be too restless to go back to farming though- not after the world got so big. I assume he’d be a great guy to talk to, best with kids/animals, probably one of the most well adjusted after all his trials and a good pen pal to Zelda. He wouldn’t be as lively after losing Midna, definitely, but he’s doing leagues better than OoT Link. Probably has a much more dry, sarcastic sense of humor than Botw Link’s “He has a dumb belly” absurdist comedy.

Wind Waker (WW) Link- at a glance I’d almost say he’d get along with Botw Link, but after more thought I think WW Link would despise him. Botw Link would willingly eat rocks or stuff himself in an explosive barrel for jokes, but WW Link would either have to be tricked or forced into it. He seems… high anxiety. But also irritable. He has the most common sense out of all the Links and that is probably exactly what his problem is. I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that most animals would attack WW Link on sight because of his constant bad, exasperated energy.

As for Skyward Sword— lol I think he’s so funny. I think growing up with Zelda “the Goddess turned teenage girl” would have had an impact on him. By far he is the most stable, most extroverted version of Link, but I think there’s something about him that would make him unknowable. He’s so relaxed but upbeat at the same time, seems like he’s always up to something but nobody ever knows what since he’s always asleep. He doesn’t have a thought in his head but he’s so perceptive too just- he’s just odd. But cool. Botw Link’s extreme stoicism pre calamity and crazy behavior post calamity would both stand out a lot next to SS Link. Yet his relationship with Botw Zelda most closely resembles SS Link’s with his own.

I’m not very familiar with the other 3DS Links etc so I can’t say much about them. These are also the vibes I get from how I remember all these Links after 10 years of not playing their games, so I could be wrong in how I’ve described them for sure.

Lol either way thank you for asking! I was a fun question to think about! It makes me want to write a reverse Advent featuring all of them ugh 😭😂