#in the fic i will never write i imagine them taking a tea break after some sparring

[writersblockiskillingme]

hi! could you write a chloe x red x fem!reader (ben's younger sister) imagine where the reader is sick and they take care of her?

Sick Days | Chloe Charming & Red

Pairing: Chloe Charming x Red x fem!reader (Ben's!younger!sister!reader)

Summary: Being sick certainly isn't fun. Luckily, girls are always ready to take care of you.

Warning/s: fluff, short fic, like really short fic, sickness, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: My Wi-Fi sucked the whole day yesterday AND today, so I'm only posting this now even though I wanted to yesterday. Anyways, here you go. Hope you enjoy it!

The Isle of the Lost was a place where shadows clung to every cracked cobblestone, and love was a rarity. But you, Ben's younger sister, had always been drawn to the unexpected—the way Chloe's laughter echoed through the narrow alleys, and the way Red's eyes softened when she thought no one was watching.

Your secret relationship with both Chloe and Red was a delicate dance.

Chloe, the daughter of Cinderella, was fierce, but a true softly and she was never afraid to show it. Her blue hair fell in curls, and her eyes held secrets she'd never share.

Red, on the other hand, was all brooding intensity—the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, tuff nature with eyes filled with determination, but with a big golden heart.

One chilly evening, you stumbled upon their dorms. The fire crackled in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Chloe's eyes widened when she saw you, shivering and pale.

"You're burning up," she said, her voice gentle like always. "Red, we need to take care of her."

Red grunted, but there was concern in her eyes. She pulled you closer, wrapping you in a blue and yellow blanket.

Chloe brewed a cup of herbal tea, her fingers deft as she stirred in honey and whispered incantations for healing.

"You're lucky we found you," Chloe said, her fingers brushing against your forehead. "We're not exactly known for our nurturing skills."

Red scoffed, but she stoked the fire, making sure you were warm. She pulled out an old book—a relic from Auradon—and began reading aloud. Her voice was deep, resonant, weaving tales of magic and redemption. You leaned against her, feeling the fever slowly go away.

Chloe sat on the other side, humming a soothing melody. Her touch was tender as she traced patterns on your arm.

"You're going to be okay," she whispered. "We won't let anything happen to you."

And in that moment, surrounded by two unlikely protectors, you believed her. The Isle might be harsh, but love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. Chloe and Red took turns caring for you—Chloe with her potions and Red with her stories. They stayed by your side, their hearts entwined with yours.

Days blurred into nights, and you drifted in and out of fever dreams. Chloe braided your hair, and Red traced intricate patterns on your hair. They argued about the best way to break the curse that plagued the Isle, their voices rising and falling like a symphony.

When you finally opened your eyes, weak but alive, Chloe pressed a kiss to your forehead. Red grunted, but her hand found yours, rough and steady.

"You're stuck with us," she muttered.

And you realized that maybe, just maybe, the Isle wasn't so dark after all. One of them almost came from it. Love had found you in the unlikeliest of places—in the arms of a villain's daughter and a scarred hero.

As you recovered, you vowed to protect this fragile connection, to let it bloom like a forgotten flower pushing through the cracks.

And so, hidden in their dorms, surrounded by whispers of magic and the warmth of two hearts, you healed.

Chloe and Red became your anchors, and you, their shared secret—the missing piece that completed their fractured souls.

->

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TAGLIST:

@xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @cyb3r-st4r @heartsfromcoco @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid

[spooky-holtz]

Sicilian Scheming

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

Prompt: "I seen you were looking for ideas for fics and was wondering if you’d write one where Mellisa’s Nona comes to visit her at Abbot during summer planning where she meets teacher Reader and essentially forces them to go on a date together even though they don’t get along well but they end up really hitting it off then a time skip to their wedding where Nona’s bragging about getting them together?"

I've diverted from the prompt a little but the core of it still stands. Strap in.

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

Make no mistake, you absolutely love teaching the third grade but by the time summer comes around, you’re glad to see them go. Summer vacation gives you a chance to relax and enjoy your time away from the stuffy brick building that is Abbott Elementary, spending weeks at a time curled up on the window ledge of your apartment basking in the sun with a good novel and often a crisp glass of wine.  

You rarely get chance to see your co-workers save for the coffee dates you have with Janine, often meeting the smaller woman around the corner from her home to sit and chat in the large glass windows as the rest of the world passes by. You spend hours at a time chatting about anything and everything your rather uneventful lives have thrown at you, fingers curled around a sweating glass of flavored iced tea. These breaks are always among the highlights of your year, giving you a chance to wind down and refresh ready for the next group of kids that you will take under your wing.  

By the time the summer break winds down though, you’re eager to get back to school and see your dysfunctional work family. There’s nothing you love more than the first day after weeks apart, hearing all about Barbra’s annual cruise with Gerald, or Jacob’s latest mission to get himself “down with the kids” - it usually involves some god awful Tik Tok trend that he should NOT be doing, but you don’t have the heart to stop his rather spirited approach to engaging with his students.  

You love these conversations but there is somebody else that you find yourself searching for the second you step foot through the green doors of Abbott; Mellisa Schemmenti. The older woman has become an infatuation for you, her rigid exterior always melting when you interact. She knows exactly how you take your coffee, always leaves a seat open for you during meetings, and takes every opportunity to compliment your appearance - whether it's a new pair of earrings, or a slightly different shade of hair dye, Melissa will always notice.  

She makes you feel special in the smallest ways, always leaving you with the hope that she might actually like you back. It feels juvenile and you can’t help but imagine yourself as one of the kids you teach every day, sending heart eyes across the room at each other at any given chance, just waiting for her cheeks to flush and that small, suppressed smile to appear on her glossed lips.  

Your crush is no secret, but you would never tell anyone - well, except Janine who had managed to guess exactly why you get so nervous around the older woman after a few glasses of wine at the last faculty holiday party. You didn’t have to say anything; your longing looks toward the redhead on the other side of the teachers’ lounge as you nursed a plastic cup full of cheap alcohol was enough to prompt your friend to ask. You could never lie to Janine’s puppy dog eyes, especially not with a buzz courtesy of the liquor store across the street.  

You can’t help but let your thoughts drift toward thick Philly accents as you sit in the gym on the first day of school, squashed between Jacob and Janine and caught directly in the middle of their conversation about whatever new Netflix documentary series dropped last week. You’re really trying to listen, but your thoughts are consumed by bright red curls and glittery lip gloss, not true crime documentaries.  

You find yourself scanning the room as the pair babble on and you notice that the seating arrangement is half empty as you wait for the rest of the faculty to arrive and for Ava to take the stage for yet another development week speech that will go down in infamy at Abbott. She’s already poked her head from behind the curtain on the stage twice, clearly impatient to make her grand entrance to a group of less than willing participants.  

You begin to hear the telltale sound of heeled boots clicking against the linoleum floor and you feel yourself freezing into place just as Melissa waltzes into the hall, Barbara in tow. You don’t know if you’re impressed or terrified at her ability to constantly wear those shoes and the thought makes you realize that you’ve never actually seen Melissa at her normal height. 

Just as you suck in a deep breath, her eyes scan the room and instantly land where you sit, sandwiched between two of your rather enthusiastic co-workers. As her green eyes meet yours you see them shrink at the smile she sends your way, her pearly white teeth cutting through the shiny pink lip gloss she’s always wearing. You send a similar smile back, overjoyed at the fact she merely noticed you. God help your heart rate when she decides to talk to you for the first time in two months.  

Your attention is pulled away by Barbara, who waves enthusiastically from behind Melissa, making her way toward the empty seats directly in front of you. Your eyes dart back to Melissa as she follows the billowing of the older woman’s cardigan, heels still impossibly loud against the floor. 

The dark button down she’s sporting is tight against her torso, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her deceptively toned forearms. You have to remind yourself to look away for a split second, the thought of getting caught ogling her by one of your co-workers forcing you to tear your eyes away. You look toward Janine who has trailed off her conversation with Jacob, the pair watching you and Melissa like a tennis match. You feel your shoulders slump at Jacob’s knowing look, the excitement practically making him vibrate.  

“You’re kidding, you know too?” You sigh. 

“Uh yeah, you don’t exactly hide the heart eyes,” he scoffs. He must see the deer-in-headlights expression on your face because he continues, “I wouldn’t worry, she was definitely just throwing them right back at you.” 

You have no time to reply as the subject of the conversation reaches the row of seats in front of you, sitting in the hard plastic chair and turning her torso to see you, hand resting on the back of her seat. Her smile is wide again as she looks to you. The panic brews in your throat and your palms instantly become sweaty at the prospect of Melissa feeling the intensity of your feelings.  

“Hey hun, it’s been a while,” she says, her eyes still crinkled from the smile she wears. Her focus is entirely on you, ignoring the duo that sits on either of your sides.  

“Yeah, it has,” you manage to stammer out, “How’ve you been? You look good.”  

You inwardly cringe at your words but you’re not lying. She’s obviously had her hair dyed ready for the new school year and it’s even brighter than usual, making her even easier for you to pick out of a crowd. She looks so full of life and at ease, the break clearly having done her well. Her smile grows impossibly wider at your compliment, putting you instantly at ease.  

“It was great,” she replies. “Spent a lotta time at the beach with my family, so I’m not as pasty as you may have remembered.” 

She throws a wink your way with the last statement, causing a pink blush to cover your cheeks within seconds. What you wouldn’t give to actually see Melissa at the beach, totally relaxed on a sun lounger with a drink in hand. The image turns your cheeks an even deeper shade of red and Mel clearly catches on, her smirk letting you know that she knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.  

Before you even have chance to reply, Ava makes her grand entrance from behind the curtain to a chorus of groans that echos throughout the room.  

You can feel Janine’s elbow nudging into your side, your friend having had a front row seat to your entire interaction with the redhead. The action earns her a swift kick to the ankle under her seat, accompanied by a hissed “don’t you dare”.  

The meeting is over almost as quickly as it begins, Ava rushing back to her office to catch the latest episode of Real Housewives - she didn’t explicitly say it but you all know that’s the only reason she would be running back down the hall. You won’t complain though because it means you can get started with your work to prepare your classroom for the year ahead. You stand from your seat alongside Jacob and Janine and have all intentions of getting back to work when Melissa turns around again. Her emerald eyes stop you in your tracks, mid-stretch, your arms flexed above your head.  

“I never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I really like your dress,” she says, completely catching you off guard. Your hands fall, hanging limply by your side and brushing against the floral fabric of your clothing. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wear it specifically to catch her eye this morning. The soft smile she wears on her face makes your heart melt, the look on her face only reserved for you. “It's real pretty.” 

You both stand there for a few seconds, blushing like lovesick teenagers and staring into each other's eyes when a throat clearing brings you back to reality. Janine claps her hands together, flustered by the interaction.  

“Okay, I’m gonna get back to my classroom and, uh, get started on cleaning. Have a good day guys!” She calls as she walks away with Jacob in tow, enthusiastic as ever as he throws a thumbs up your way. You know that within five minutes of leaving the school gym she’ll be in your classroom waiting for the rundown on what the hell just happened between you and Melissa, as if she didn’t see it all happen from inches away. At this rate, you wouldn’t be surprised if Jacob shows up with a bag of popcorn to join in with the gossip session.  

“Oh shit, yeah, I need to clean before Nonna shows up,” Melissa mumbles, “I don’t wanna even think about the earful I’ll get if my classroom is a mess.” She doesn’t even stop to think before she turns on her heel and practically runs out of the gym and down the hall toward her classroom. You don’t have time to process her words before her best friend speaks.  

“Well, I guess that just leaves us,” Barbara says from her place next to where the redhead stood. She wears a gentle smile on her face that will always help you feel at ease. She reaches her arm out to you, linking your arm within hers as she turns to walk. “Come on honey, I’ll walk you to your room and tell you all about the cruise I had with my Gerald.”  

After a rather lengthy conversation about ‘Sea Barbara’ and her less-than-christian antics, you’re back at your door for the first time in months and can’t help but feel like you’re home. Nobody particularly likes their job but that couldn’t be further from the truth for you. Already, you’ve planned out the next year and can’t wait to welcome your little Eagles back into the classroom.  

It’s a full hour later by the time you actually hear another person’s voice - Janine chose to keep her distance but will no doubt grill you about Melissa at some point today. It’s just a matter of when.  

You hear the signature clicking of her heels before you can see her, her footsteps considerably slower than usual. You can hear her talking as she walks, though you can’t make you exactly what she’s saying. The footsteps grow louder and slower before you hear a knock against your doorframe, the door propped open by a thick stack of textbooks that you’ve wedged in front of it in a desperate attempt to get some airflow in the stuffy room.  

The sound makes you whip your head from where you stand on your stepladder, stapler and crepe paper in hand as you put together a display for the kids. You know exactly who will be standing there, already smiling as you turn and meet her eyes.  

“Hey Hun,” she says, “I’ve got someone here who wanted to really meet you.”  

For the first time you notice the presence beside her. You don’t need to take any guesses that this is Melissa’s infamous Nonna, the older woman clearly having stamped her grandchildren with her genes - she looks exactly how you imagine Melissa would in her old age, her hair silver and leaning gently on a cane.  

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti!” she exclaims, making you jump and stand up straighter, terrified at the prospect of already being on her bad side. You climb down from the ladder as she stares at you, smoothing your hands down the front of your dress in an effort to get rid of any creases that may have formed during the morning. “You said she was pretty, but not this pretty!”  

You feel your shoulders relax as you laugh at the older woman, taken aback, Melissa by the side of her groaning loudly with a “Nonna, really?” You move toward the pair holding your hand out to shake the wrinkled one of the grey-haired lady before you. Her fingers are adorned by the same kind of jewelry that Melissa wears, her Sicilian heritage extremely clear from the large signet rings that she wears across her hands.  

“And there’s no mistaking that you must be Nonna,” you grin, introducing yourself. “I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re like a living legend around here.” She closes her hand around yours, the other still gripping her cane.  

“Pretty and complimentary?” She remarks, turning to look at her granddaughter whose face has managed to turn the same colour as her hair. “Well, you kept a lot quiet about this one.” 

You can’t help but look at Melissa at this statement, catching her eye and smiling even wider, Nonna’s remarks already making your grin impossibly wide. Her brow relaxes itself slightly, the hard lines around her eyes softening when she sees the pure joy on your face at finally getting to meet the woman you’ve heard so much about over the last few years.  

“I’m not sure if I want to hear exactly what you know about me,” you joke to her, catching Melissa’s eye yet again. The poor woman looks unbelievably flustered but it's a welcome change in your dynamic. She usually gets to revel in the fact that you turn into a puddle in her presence, but now you can only hope to add to the quickly darkening hue of her cheeks.  

“Trust me, you do. This one doesn’t shut up about you,” she says, smiling slightly and cocking her head toward Melissa who is actively wishing that a sinkhole would open up beneath her feet. She lets go of your hand and moves further into the classroom, leaning ever so slightly on her stick but still moving with all the confidence of your favourite Schemmenti woman - at least you know where Melissa gets it from now.  

Your eyes dart to Melissa, the older woman already looking back at you with a silent apology in her eyes her teeth worrying her bottom lip. You reach out and rub the top of her arm over her shirt in a small act of comfort, letting her know that this entire situation is doing nothing but working in her favour.  

“Ya know, it’s nice seeing something other than my Melissa’s classroom or the reception desk at this school for once,” Nonna says, almost speaking to herself. She looks around the room almost in awe, taking in the displays in various degrees of completion around the room.  

You follow her further in, Melissa hot on your tail behind you. She’s so close that you feel her almost walk straight into your back as you stop closer to the older woman, her once intimidating heels stuttering slightly on the wooden floor.  

“So, tell me,” Nonna begins, turning in place to face you, “What brought a girl like you to Philly? I know you’re not a local.” Her eyes twinkle as she asks, and you have a sneaking suspicion that she already knows the answer to her question from the tales her granddaughter has seemingly told her about you.  

“I just wanted a change,” you answer honestly. “I only thought I’d be here a couple years, but it’s been five and I can’t see myself leaving any time soon.” 

At your statement you hear Melissa sigh by your side. As your head turns to meet her gaze you see just how much it softened at your words. She knows just how much you love your job and the dedication you’re willing to put into making sure these kids make it. Year after year she’s been the one to help you draft lesson plans and mark countless piles of work over a mug of coffee in the teachers’ lounge, helping you when you feel slightly out of your depth in more ways than she could imagine. 

It’s only when she’s this close to your face that you can see the glittering of her lip gloss as she smiles slightly, her lips pulled together in a look that conveys so much softness.  

“Do you like Italian food?” Nonna asks, breaking the tense silence that has fallen between you. You feel the redhead beside you jump, both of you completely forgetting that her grandmother is just meters away from your little moment. You can’t answer quick enough, crying out for her approval and hoping that you can focus back from the incredible green eyes that are currently burning into the side of your head.  

“Oh yeah, I absolutely love an Italian,” you stutter out, “Can’t get enough.” 

You inwardly cringe at your words as you hear Melissa snicker by your side, Nonna’s eyes twinkling with amusement again. You hear a quiet “Bedda Matri” from Melissa through the giggles that shake her body.  

“I bet ya do,” Nonna says, her grin revealing her impossibly pearly white teeth. You can feel yourself getting warmer and you’re not sure if it’s from the stuffiness of your classroom and its broken windows or from the pure embarrassment radiating through your system. “You know, I taught Melissa everything she knows about Italian food. Maybe if you’re nice she’ll cook for you sometime.” 

Nonna’s eyebrows are raised as you turn to meet Melissa’s eyes, the older woman shrugging in your direction. It's nice to know you aren’t the only person completely lost in this conversation.  

“Oh, I know!” Nonna exclaims, making the pair of you jump yet again, “Melissa, how about you cook this nice girl the family baked ziti tonight? Say, 7 o’clock?”  

“Uh sure, if you don’t have anything on?” Melissa says, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion once again.  

“No no, I’m totally free,” you stammer, your cheeks matching the deep red of your co-worker's hair. “I’ve got your address too.” 

“Wonderful!” Nonna almost shouts, her shrill voice echoing off the semi-bare walls of your classroom. “You’re going to love it, trust me.” She says, throwing a wink your way.  

You don’t particularly want to admit that the smaller woman is, but you do love it. So much so that two years later you’re twirling around a dance floor in a lacy white dress, Melissa in a matching getup and shiny new diamond rings on your left hands. As Billy Joel croons the chorus of ‘Just the Way You Are’ from the speakers set up around the room, you hear a familiar voice chirp up from a table just out of reach of the dance floor.  

“You know, they would never have gotten together if I hadn’t practically knocked their heads together,” Nonna says, her voice carrying over the song as she explains her matchmaking services to Melissa’s Uncle Tony. You feel Melissa grin where her cheek rests against yours, your expression matching hers as you hear the older woman carry on. “I’m telling you now Anthony, this wedding wouldn’t even be happening if it wasn’t for me.”  

You feel Melissa begin to giggle where she stands, her hands resting against the lace at the small of your back, thumbs rubbing gently against the surface as you sway together. You hear Nonna carry on, adamant that the life you’ve built wouldn’t be possible if not for her, and as much as you don’t want to give her satisfaction, you both know she’s right.  

[sanguineterrain]

could I request a fic with insomniac!reader and tim? i love your writing im excited to see how you make his character your own! <3

thanks for the request! first time writing tim... kinda nervous like I'm on a first date 🫣 hope you like! this one isn't as mushy gushy as my usual fics (jason) so yeah. also my knowledge of yj is purely through fic 🤙

tim drake x gn!reader. tw insomnia, tim being so awkward but maybe... there are feelings... who can say. tim's character is so interesting to me (probably because I identify with him the most lmao).

****

It's really, really nice of the team to let you stay over tonight. Like, really nice.

You haven't even done much. You're pretty much a nobody in the superhero world, not even a D-list hero. Certainly not anybody that should be hanging out with the likes of Wonder Girl and Superboy and, God, Tim freakin' Drake.

Kon was just overly generous in his cool, brash way, herding you into a spare room after last night's battle. After tonight, you'll politely break away from the team to give them some reprieve. It didn't escape your notice that they didn't hang out last night like they usually do.

You've been awake for an hour now, listening for sounds of life in the corridor. If you were home, you'd already be on the couch watching crappy TV. But you really don't want to run into anyone here.

Maybe you have some chamomile tea leftover from the last time you stayed over. You hadn't stayed the whole night, slipping away without interference as most of the team had gone to their own homes.

You get up, stretching and popping joints. It's always a little cold in the Tower, and it wakes you up as you walk to the kitchen first. You're as quiet as you can be in heating the water and finding the tea.

You take your mug and head to the den. As you enter, you freeze.

Tim turns his head from his place on the couch. The blue light from the TV makes him paler, and his eyes bluer. Sometimes, he looks so much like Bruce Wayne, it startles you.

"Oh," you say, unsure what else to say. Your brain is tired and fried. "I... was just looking for my watch."

That's definitely your dumbest lie. You don't have a watch. Tim sure as fuck knows that.

His eyes flick to your wrist, as if reminding you both how stupid your lie is, then to your mug. He mutes the TV.

You stay where you are. Tim stands, obviously shouldering his own bout of insomnia.

"It's... you can come in," he says, just as awkward as you.

That's comforting. Tim's usually so suave, the few times you've interacted. He's all Gotham Heights, his upbringing never quite sloughing off no matter how many times he's probably tried to blend in and not be so... private school.

"I was just going to bed," he says quickly.

"No, you weren't," you say. You don't mean for it to come out so shrewd. Tim looks a little startled.

"I mean, you don't need to go," you add. "I'll take this to my room. It's fine. Sorry."

"No, I've been here too long anyway. I should work on my case."

Here's the thing. It's not that Tim avoids you because in order to do that, you'd have to see him more than three times a year.

But there's a distance. You've tried not to take it personally, tried to chalk it up to the fact that you're introverted and Kon and Bart are Kon and Bart, and Cassie's too straightforward to beat around the bush, and you've somehow won her over, which is nice.

And Tim is just... cautious. Paranoid.

Those are understatements, and you can't imagine the psychological damage caused by being raised by Batman, but, well, you've seen the previous and current Robins, so you can hazard a guess.

Anyway, Tim kind of acts like an unsocialized cat with you. You once mentioned it to Kon, in nicer words, but he dismissed you, saying, "Whaddya mean? Rob likes you!" Which had assuaged nothing, but whatever.

"I won't be here long," you say, as a last-ditch effort to not make it feel like you're kicking Tim out of his own space. "I just, uh, couldn't sleep."

He watches you in that freaky Bat way, like he's trying to determine if you're a threat or not. Jesus.

"It's hard for me to sleep after a battle," you add, trying to show your belly. That's how it feels, being around Tim Drake. Like you always need to be vulnerable first. Like you're in a battle of wills you didn't know you entered.

He doesn't sit down, but he does say, "Me too."

You nod and drink your cooling tea. "There's more tea in the kitchen if you want. Chamomile."

"I'm... good. Thanks."

You edge over to the armchair diagonal to the couch and sit.

"You can work in here," you say. "Unless, uh, it's too distracting. I'll keep the TV muted."

His laptop is on the other side of the couch. Tim is still, only his eyes moving from you to the laptop.

"I don't wanna push you out," you say.

"It's really fine," he replies immediately.

It's so not fine. This isn't boding well for your insomnia. You're definitely going to be agonizing over this interaction all week.

"I won't bother you," you say.

"I didn't say you would."

Then what's the problem?

Slowly, Tim returns to the couch. You look away, so it doesn't seem like you're watching his every move (you are), nor is Tim clocking your every move (he is).

He settles on the couch and opens his laptop. You drink and try to figure out what's playing on TV. It looks to be a rerun of Columbo. You smile.

"You like Columbo?"

Tim looks spooked that you're still talking to him, but he answers. "Yeah."

"Me too."

You watch Columbo silently look for clues. Tim types, fingers flying over the keyboard. Then his fingers pause.

"I used to watch it with Dick," he says. "When I first became Robin."

You nod, giving him your full attention. "Yeah? He seems like the type."

"He does a pretty good impression of him. He likes detective shows."

"You don't?" you ask.

Tim shrugs. "They're fine. I guess I just hate how predictable they can be."

"Of course the boy genius would say that," you say, smirking.

Instantly, Tim's face turns to stone. He hums, looking back at his laptop. You blink. What happened?

"Sorry. That was a joke," you say.

"I know," Tim says, any trace of warmth gone.

You're startled by the shift. "I don't—I wasn't making fun of you. I mean, you are smart. Really smart."

Tim carefully looks at you. "...Thanks."

You nod clumsily. You should've just stayed in bed.

It's quiet for a long time. You're trying to muster up the confidence to escape to your room when Tim speaks again.

"People have said stuff like that to be facetious. I... reacted without reading your tone."

It's not an apology, but it's probably the closest thing you'll get.

"It's okay," you say.

Tim nods. His shoulders aren't so tense, though his posture is atrocious when he's off-duty.

He gets up and gives you the remote. You take it, smile small. Tim retreats.

"You can unmute it if you want. I don't mind."

So you do, and you and Tim spend the next hour half-watching Columbo and half-watching each other. Eventually, your tea finishes, and the episode ends, so you get up.

"I think I'll try and sleep," you say.

Tim nods. "Good luck."

You hum. "Thanks. Good luck with the case."

"Yeah. Thanks."

You wash the mug and leave it on the dish rack. Then you escape back to your room. You really do feel like you could sleep again. Maybe Columbo reruns are the magic ingredient to a good night's sleep.

[radioisntdead]

Ok. So…you can’t just put potential Rosie HeadCanons in my face like that and NOT expect me to start gushing girl.

Rosie with a reader who has a powerful instant regeneration ability. Just imaging they chop off a limb or some fingers and offer them up to Rosie like - “Flame grilled or Sushi?”

Being cute while she’s devouring their pinkie finger while having tea, and reader is SO nonchalant about it.

Good evening my dear! Rosie is just munchin' on the reader like a snack.

Warnings!!

Cannibalism [Fun fact, this is one of the main warnings in the fics I write, out of context this is concerning, EVEN WITH CONTEXT ITS KINDA CONCERNING??] mild gore for obvious reasons, temporary self mutilation??? The seasoning of limbs I don't know but this gets weird, as per usual this more then likely isn't proofread, I wrote headcanons and a drabble but this is somewhat short my apologies!

You and Rosie's relationship is odd to say the least, I mean y'all are in hell but still, but it's healthier then the majority of relationships down there,

I imagine you just carry around like a butcher knife so whenever Rosie is hungry you just go CHOP and hand her your hand or something,

Also if you carry around a bag I imagine you put some seasonings and sauces in for her to choose as well, because unseasoned meat is gross.

Rosie seems like the type to season her food.

The first time you popped off a limb you did with without warning and almost scared Rosie half to double death!

Give the gal a warning and tell her that you can regenerate limbs! She did enjoy munching on it afterwards though!

If you're an overlord you supply her with snacks at meetings,

She just whispers to you that she's hungry and that after the meeting you should get a meal,

And then you with zero discretion chop off a finger and offer it to her,

Carmilla Carmine wasn't pleased, neither were the other overlords [excluding Alastor, he finds it entertaining] and that's saying something since they've more then likely done horrendous things to get to their overlord status.

Rosie however is pleased with the snack, she would prefer if you didn't get blood on the table though,

Maybe in advance you go chop chop and put fingers in a Ziploc bag and hand it to her like it's baby carrots.

Less mess that way,

During tea time I imagine you do prep work in advance so you have an assortment of your fingers in different flavors, so your hand is mess free to be able to hold Rosie's hand while sipping tea,

Or maybe having a picnic, you just pop off an arm and thinly slice it and put it in a little sandwich, maybe some type of dessert? I don't know

Similar to the Alastor biting headcanons I did, Rosie bites you,

But unlike Alastor she doesn't just break skin, she takes CHUNKS OUT, I image you either have a really REALLY REALLY high pain tolerance or you can't feel pain because this has to be painful.

Also you probably need to have towels nearby because this gets messy, like it looks like a murder scene, but without the murder.

You are a snack, literally, a walking talking snack that Rosie adores with all her cannibalistic heart.

....................

You hummed as Rosie sat nearby sipping tea, it was a decent day in hell, the sky was red, sinners were screaming in the distance, and you were pulling back a meat cleaver to provide more fingers,

"Rosie darling, Should I take out the bone or leave it in this time?"

"Leave it in, it gives the fingers a nice crunch!"

Rosie said looking at you, grinning her sharp teeth shining like a razer sharp knife, eyes like a endless void of pitch black that one could get lost in, you could wander in and never escape.

You were completely and utterly in love with her,

Giving a lovely smile back you nodded before ramming down the cleaver, spattering blood across the counter, you pulled your now fingerless hand back, giving it a slight shake before a swirl of black smoke covered it and within seconds you had fingers again, you pull back the cleaver to repeat the process, after all your beloved Rosie was hungry and five fingers wasn't much!

Good evening folks! Thank you for tuning in!

I never thought I would be writing cannibal x readers but here we are, anyways I'm still working through requests! I got a Found family Rosie, an parental Alastor, an angsty Velvette and another one that I can't remember but It's in the drafts! Also Alrighty tune in time!

[psychesalcove]

„ WHEN YOURE ALL ALONE, ILL REACH FOR YOU (when you're fellin' low, i'll be there too)

↳ COLLEGE AU! JASON GRACE X GN! READER ”

requested: yes, from amandamariee

⚠️: reader is a bit of an overachiever, crying, being overwhelmed bc of school work, shitty ass writing (sorry gang) not proofread AT ALL

in which ; jason comforts reader who is overwhelmed by school work due to finals.

a/n: thank you so much for the request babes!! i hope this lives up to your expectations,, i loveee fluff and comfort fics so so much like it's actually scary 😔 ALSO i made the reader have a history major – just in case anyone was wondering :)

finals season was upon the students of new rome. cafes were filled to the brim with students, workbooks, and the sound of typing on laptops (that were specially made for demigods, of course).

you were one of the studnets who found themselves at the cafe more often than you would like to admit. earlier today you were at a popular cafe downtown with annabeth, but, around two hours into your study session, you wanted a change of scenery.

and that's how you found yourself back at the condo you and jason shared.

ᝰ

your wooden desk that you had gotten at ARC had every surface possible filled with studying items. old assignments, papers your professor handed out, your notes, and every color of highlighter imaginable.

your tea (which jason had made for you) was long forgotten on the edge of the desk, close to tipping over onto the carpeted floor of the bedroom. you had been in the same posion on your chair for about an hour and a half, eyes focused on reading an essay you had wrote a couple months ago.

jason would have already had you take a break by now, but he was downtown. you and jason were supposed to meet with the seven for dinner tonight, but you decided to stay home and study more. jason had insisted on staying with you, but with much persistence on your end, he was out the door and on his way downtown.

and of course, when you're studying for the most important test of this year, your dyslexia decided to act up. you had been stuck on the same sentence for about 5 minutes now. the words kept getting jumbled in your mind, floating from place to place on the page. the monster attacks you could deal with; but not being able to read a simple sentence?

you sighed heavily through your nose, setting down your pen onto the desk. this essay should be easy to read; you were the one who wrote it after all. your eyes shifted from the essay to the rest of your desk. you had no idea how you were going to manage getting all of the information you needed for the test in your head.

you reached for your laptop that was under a folder, because you decided that it might be easier to do work digital instead of on paper. you quickly logged into your laptop, and went to google classroom.

your eyes were drawn to the notification icon, seeing that there was one. you clicked it, mouse hovering over the writing that appeared on the screen: a comment from your professor.

y/n, i've seen you do amazing work in my class this year. what happened with this? i know you have more potential than what you wrote. i'll have to give you a D for this one, but it shouldn't affect your grade to much considering you have an A. it'll bring it down to an A- or a B at the most. i'll hope you gain your skill back in further work.

oh.

you quickly changed the screen onto where your grades were shown. there it was. a B. you knew that it wasn't a bad grade or anything, especially remembering when percy showed his grades to you once, but it still didn't sit right with you.

this was your best class, the one you always understood and got at least an 80 or higher on. you've never gotten a D.

tears quickly filled up your eyes, causing you to bink rapidly in an attempt to keep them at bay. you looked at the desk, in hopes of feeling better by now staring at the large B on your screen, but it only made it worse. all the papers and assignments quickly overwhelmed you, seeing how much you still had to do.

how will you even pass this test if you can't write a simple article about an artifact?

with that thought in your head, tears quickly started dripping down your face. a rational part of you told you that a small assignment like that didn't show your worth of the class, but the emotional part of you quickly overtook that thought.

as you sat there, posture rigid and tears freely falling down your face, you were to focused on your own being to register the sound of a door opening and footsteps going down the hall twords the bedroom you were in. you only got out of your head when you felt cold hands rubbing up and down your upper back.

"hey, love, what's wrong?" a voice, that you quickly recognized as jason's, said. you didn't know how to verbally respond, so you coughed hard and brought a hand up to your face to try to remove the tear stains from your face.

jasons hands moved from your back to go over your shoulders, hugging you from behind. "how about we get you into a bed first, hm?" he questioned gently, leaning awkwardly so his face was closer to your ear. after registering what he said, you nodded slightly as you made a move to stand up.

jason aided in getting you up, and then put a hand over your shoulder when the two of you started the short walk to the bed. he let you sit first, and then quickly followed in suit. he sat in front of you, letting you get a clear image of his blonde hair and concerned face.

he grabbed your hands and held onto them lightly, giving you the option to leave his grasp at any point. "love, try to copy my breathing, okay?" he instructed, making eye contact with you. he slowly took a deep breath in through his mouth, waiting for you to follow. once he saw the movement , he slowly exhaled through his nose, again, waiting for to follow his breathing pattern.

this continued until jason deemed you collected enough to talk about whatever made you upset. "want to tell me what got you so worked up, my love?" he asked again, softly smiling at you when you two made eye contact.

you quickly explained your situation in a shaken voice, still getting own crying. his eyebrows knitted in concern as he listen to you, and his thumb started slowly rubbing circles on your knuckles when he noticed your teary eyes.

once you finished speaking, he took you into his arms and held you gently. "how about you take a break. i'll make you tea, and you can eat if you want. then, we'll come back, and i'll help you with whatever you need help with. sound good?" he explained, already making a move to stand up with you.

ᝰ

the two of you quickly found yourself in the kitchen. jason had dimed the lights to emit a soft orange glow from above, and turned on the stove light as he filled the kettle up with water.

"you know, you're amazing at what you do, love." jason said, turning to you as he turned off the sink water after the kettle was filled up. "and, i know that you also know that, somewhere in there," he continued, brining up a finger and pointing at his head. you chucked softly, making jason get a small grin on his face from making you laugh, even if it was only little.

he walked over to the stove and placed the kettle on the stove, turning on the stove top, then moving over to where you sat on the counter. he gently wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you into a gentle embrace. "yknow you could have asked for my help earlier, i would have stayed with you, my love." he said as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"i know, but i wanted you to go out. i didn't want to keep up cooped up in here with me just because i didn't want to have dinner with them." you said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"i never feel 'cooped up' with you, love. and i wouldn't have minded not going, although leo and piper seemd very pressed about you not being there tonight. said they wanted to meet up with you tomorrow to 'add to their gossip'." he said, chuckling lightly at the thought of leo and piper.

you smiled softly as you thought about your friends, knowing how much they meant to you. just then, your stomach growled, notifying both you and jason that you were starving.

"how about we make you some toast? then we can go back and start on some flashcards for you, sound good?" jason asked, pulling away from the embrace and walking over to the pantry, signaling with his hands for you to follow.

[soft-for-yoongi]

as someone who enjoys reading emeto and snz, could u write a fic with both? maybe for yoongi? i dont know what scenario, sorry.

Just a cold? (Sick YG)

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

Sick: Yoongi

Caretaker: Jimin, Seokjin, Hoseok

Tw: emeto, vom**, mentions of nausea, stomach pain, fevers, snz

Word count: 1227

Thank you for requesting!!! Sorry it took longer than I expected!! (I'm still working on other requests, too, so anons, if you see this, your fics are coming!)

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

Yoongi has never been this congested in his life. Blowing his nose has stopped working and he sneezed too many times during a meeting that all the members were sent home. The rapper was grateful for the break but he had songs to produce, not that a single thought could get past his head with how stuffy he feels.

"H-h-hESH'ew.." Hoseok looks at Yoongi sympathetically. Yoongi kicked everyone else out of his room but Hoseok somehow made his way in. He's holding a tray with some soup (made by Jin), tea, more tissues and medicine of course. "Hey, hyung. Jin-hyung says you gotta eat all of the soup or he's gonna take away your laptop." Hoseok explains, handing Yoongi the bowl of home made soup.

Yoongi can't even breathe through his nose and mumbles a groggy, "t'anks Hoba.." he eats the soup slowly, and Hoseok peers over at him lovingly. "Does it taste bad or something? What's with that frowny face?" Hoseok teases, delicately running fingers through Yoongi's hair in a soothing manner. "Head hurts." Yoongi replies, continuing to sip soup off his spoon.

Hoseok tuts, grabbing medicine off the tray. "Take two of these, since you've eaten something. They should work within about 30 minutes." Hoseok hands Yoongi some water. He pops the pills and blows his nose again, chucking it into the half full bin next to his bed. "Keep eating, hyung but I'm gonna let you be. Jungkookie wants me to work out with him." Hoseok smiles, recalling Jungkook's begging to get him to come to the company gym.

Yoongi's mouth curls upwards, "thanks Hoba, enjoy." Yoongi says, now almost three quarters finished the soup. Hoseok pats Yoongi's foot through the blanket and leaves the room, switching the light off to the elder's pleasure.

-----

With the soup finished and after blowing his nose at least 4 more times, the ache in Yoongi's head is still persisting and his stomach is starting to feel uneasy, and not because of the soup. The rapper has been trying to fall asleep, in the darkness of his room it shouldn't be that hard, yet there he is. Wrapped up in blankets and hugging his stomach.

It had been around an hour and a half since Hoseok left and now Jimin comes trailing into Yoongi's bedroom. Jimin is about to retreat because he thinks Yoongi is fast asleep, that is until he hears a horrible sneeze and moan come from the lump in bed. Jimin stands frozen as Yoongi blows his nose and picks up the bin half full with tissues to—gag into it..?

"Are you okay, Yoongi-hyung??" Jimin says, beginning to stroke up and down Yoongi's back. He hugs the bin, gagging again and spitting out excess saliva. Jimin flicks the bedside lamp on and Yoongi's paler than normal features are highlighted along with his pink Rudolf-looking nose.

"My stomach doesn't feel good, Jimin-ah.." Yoongi says, throat clenching around a heave. Jimin rakes Yoongi's long hair out the way just in time for him to bring up a wave of Seokjin's soup. It looks too much like it did when Yoongi first consumed it and it makes him feel sicker. "Oh, hyungie.. you'll feel better once you're empty." Jimin coos, praying that someone else comes and finds them because at this rate, Jimin is horriblely worried. Yoongi just has a cold, right? Why is he throwing up?

Jimin shoots Seokjin a quick text, 'can you please help? Yoongi-hyung is throwing up :(((' he pockets his phone just as Yoongi pukes again. Jimin pats the elder's back, trying to block out the distinct smell of puke but alternatively can't imagine leaving his hyung alone like this.

The patter of Seokjin's feet quick on their hardwood floors is music to Jimin's ears. "Oh, Yoongi-ah... you poor thing." Seokjin croons, walking over and beginning to massage Yoongi's nape. The rapper is thankful and fast to lean into the oldest' touch. A wave of calm washes over Jimin, but he tenses slightly when Yoongi reels forward with a productive heave.

Seokjin eyes the bowl on Yoongi's bedside table and hums approvingly when he finds it empty of his delicious soup. At least he knows that's not the reason Yoongi's sick. "He'll be okay, Jiminie." Seokjin eases the dancer just a little, continuing to rub Yoongi's back and hold his hair.

Yoongi spits and Jimin hands him some water. "Small sips, Yoon." Seokjin comments and Yoongi complies, water soothing his throat and diluting the taste in his mouth. Yoongi palms his stomach with a grimace, "think 'm done." The rapper says, sniffling. Jimin offers a tissue to which Yoongi blows his nose and adds it to the bin.

"Stomach hurting, Yoongi-hyung?" Jimin ponders, while Seokjin whisks away to clean the bin. Yoongi lays back down in bed, nodding weakly. "I'll go get you a heat back, hyung–" Jimin turns to leave but a cool hand grips his wrist.

"Jimin.. can you stay?" Yoongi mumbles, if he didn't say it then it might’ve never came out. "Oh, of course, hyung!" Jimin grins, taking advantage of Yoongi's request for affection and joining Yoongi in his bed. "Get some rest, Yoongi-hyung." Jimin whispers, flicking the lamp off.

Jimin shuffles closer to Yoongi, their bodies pressed together under the covers. Yoongi felt calmness wash over him just at the comforting presence of Jimin, something unique to the dancer. The pain and discomfort in his stomach was still there, and his nose is congested, but tiredness weighs over his whole body.

Jimin could feel the warmth coming off of Yoongi, no doubt a fever. Seokjin comes back in quietly to return the now clean bin, "sleep well, you two." The eldest smiles, exiting the bedroom. Yoongi can hear whispers of conversation and laughter from their living room, probably Jungkook and Hoseok returning from the gym. Yoongi's stomach gurgles, reminding him of his motive to fall asleep.

Jimin's small hand moves from Yoongi's waist to his stomach, starting some light circles. For the first 20 minutes, it's comforting for the older, however the gurgling and relentless nausea isn't letting up. Yoongi gives in to a few deep breaths, trying to see if he can cope. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Jimin is watching him like a hawk, lips downturned in worry. "You okay, hyung?"

Yoongi starts to sit up when mucus runs down his throat, prompting a closed mouth gag. Before he can make a mess, Jimin swipes the bin up, sticking it under Yoongi's mouth. He starts to empty what's left in his stomach, mostly bile and water. He coughs and Jimin has to pass another tissue so Yoongi can blow his nose again. He continues rubbing Yoongi's back just like Seokjin did and murmurs words of comfort.

"Sorry, you'll have to clean it again.." Yoongi sighs, voice hoarse from the ordeal. "Don't worry about it, hyung. I can leave this in the bathroom and get you something else, are you still feeling sick?" Jimin asks, concern clear in his voice. Yoongi shakes his head weakly, "I'm okay. Just sore, thank you Jiminie." Jimin takes the bin and eases the rapper to lay down again. Jimin leaves the bin in the bathroom to deal with later and returns quickly.

"Night, Yoongi-hyung." Jimin snuggles up to the elder. "I'll always look after you."

[yeonkimintakecare]

Washed Up - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader; Angsty Fic

Summary: You've decided to audition, but will it be that easy?

You run into old acquaintances from the industry and new enemies.

Author's Note: I'm sorry it's taking me so long to write this, but I'm trying to write more lately.

Warnings: mentions of alcoholism, mental health issues, swearing, general angst.

(previous chapter) - (next chapter)

“Sorry! I’m just so proud of you! It doesn’t matter to me if you do the worst acting you’ve ever done. We are going to get through it together! Oh my god, ok. Ok.” Papers shuffle in the background as she mumbles to herself. “ Ok, so I’m sending the script over to you now. Somebody will drop them off in about an hour. Learn them the best you can and I’ll be over tonight to help you. The auditions are next week and we have a lot to work to do. I hear Song Mijoo is also auditioning. She will be tough competition.”

“Song Mijoo? Wasn’t she that rookie idol that wanted to break into acting? I remember just thinking she was okay but she was so stiff whenever she delivered her lines.” You said into the phone, starting to calm down and make yourself a cup of tea.

“Oh, that’s definitely her. But she’s changed a lot over the years, she started working with that one coach, Kim Minji, that worked with your costar on The Star’s Above, Jiwon.” Rina said, keyboard clacking in the background. She’s likely putting everything in motion as fast as she can so that I can’t change my mind. Wise decision on her part.

“Minji is a miracle worker. Anybody who can make Lee Jiwon actually able to cry instead of having to use any artificial tears deserves to win every award.”  You both laugh at that statement. “Ok, tough competition then, so I’ll need to practice as much as a can. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t have a job.” You say with a chuckle, but it’s a bit empty. You can crack jokes all you want but inside you just feel a huge pit in your stomach.

Were you making the right decision? You didn’t want to mess up and embarrass yourself. Again. And this time you would have to be, painfully, sober. God, this was going to really hard.

Over the 4 days, you read the script and practice the lines. Rina was right, this script did speak to you. It’s about a woman, Eunji,  who was trying to get back into her career and life after years of being a wife to a husband who was negligent. While you lost your career due to your own issues with alcoholism and mental health, you can relate to the her feeling of the loss of her youth and the character’s struggles with her own mental health.

The audition scene is a pivotal part of the show where Eunji has realized her husband is having a child with her best friend. She’s extremely hurt, not just because she’s learning the two most important people in her life are betraying her, but also because she’s never been able to have children, which she has always wanted.

It’s a heart wrenching scene and you just hope that you’re able to portray the feelings you have to, you really want this role and so you start to muster up some feelings from your past. You think about the life you had imagined for yourself when you had just begun in this industry.

You were 16, your mom had gotten you into this high school drama, she had gone to school with one of the producers of the show. You were just an extra with one line in one of the episodes. But then they started calling you back to do other small roles in their other shows. By 18, you had landed your first lead. In a high school drama, you were the main character who was in love with your best friend’s brother. It was a very stereotypical romance drama. But there was a scene in it where you got to show of your dramatic work when the male lead left your character to go study in the England.

After that role you started to book more lead roles and by 22 and decided to take a role about a teacher. The show was an easy one to be on. A show about a teacher who was falling in love with a parent of one of her students. That’s where you met Tae, or I guess V now. He was silly and optimistic. He played a recurring character, he was a teacher who would sometimes be comedic relief.

At first you guys weren’t close, but you could definitely tell he was an attractive man. But you couldn’t date, you had to focus on your career. You were on a fast track to be the top actress in Korea at the time. But then one day he bumped into you, and he was so nervous and cute, which normally wouldn’t have affected you, but then you saw his smile. His adorable wide smile. It’s like all dreams for your future flew out the window and all you could think of was how to get this man to smile at you again.

You soon found yourself searching for him in every scene you did together. You even went as far as asking the writers to make his role larger, pretending that it was just because his character was so funny. He was a very good actor too so it wasn’t hard to pull the strings.

Before you knew it he asked you out, and you knew you shouldn’t but you couldn’t help but say yes to him. Especially after how brightly he smiled at you. It wasn’t much longer until you were kissing him and staying over at his apartment most nights a week. You thought you could live forever in his arms, talking about your goals and dreams.

It was peaceful for a couple months, until a paparazzi caught a photo of you guys while you were getting breakfast after a night you had spent together. Your manager at the time was freaking out and your company had decided the best way to deal with it was to have you deny any relationship with him. They said you couldn’t be seen as the type of girl who was unavailable, not at such a young age. They told you if you wanted to make it, then you had to listen to them. They convinced you that if you weren’t viewed as attractive to your fans, they wouldn’t want to watch you. Claiming that your acting was no good unless he public viewed you as fuckable.  And like a stupid, naive young girl, you believed them.

You snap out of it when you hear Rina walk through the door of your home. She’s holding groceries and walks straight to your kitchen counter.

“I got some dinner, which I figure we can eat right now, but I got us some sweets for when we finish running lines. I thought it would be a nice treat –“ She stops suddenly when she looks at you for the first time. For the first time, you realize that you had been crying. Your eyes were puffy and red, cheeks stained with tears. Rina comes towards you quickly.

“Are you okay? Are you having regrets? We can pull out if we have to. You matter more to me than your comeback.” You smile at her as you shake your head.

“No no, I’m fine. I just was trying to muster up some old feelings so I can connect with the character.” You say, wiping the tears from your face. Rina steps closer and holds you in her arms.

“Ok, well if you decide it’s too much, don’t feel like you’ll disappoint me. I don’t think there is anything you could do that would ever disappoint me.” She pats your back as you feel yourself calm down and like that, you feel like yourself again.

You wipe your face and slap your hands down on your knees, making a loud slapping noise. “Ok, let’s eat and then get to work. I still have a long way to go.”

--

Days of working every minute on your craft, Rina had helped you film your audition and send it in. It took a couple takes, but you selected the best one. You didn’t want to look, but you forced yourself to, as Rina sent it off. You felt like a boulder had been lifted off of your chest. You felt relieved, and almost hopeful.

Some days passed and your anxiety began to grow as you waited for a response. You knew this could take some time, but you just wanted it to be done already. Did you make it to the next stage or was all of this a mistake. You had to keep reminding yourself to not get so negative, but after being out all these years, it just doesn’t feel right to be confident.

A week after you had sent in your tape you were cooking lunch for Rina and you were going to bring it to her office. Both of you were single so you did couple things together, like going to paint classes, picking up groceries together, and sometimes you made her lunch. She was an awful cook, so you offered to cook for her most of the time. You guys don’t live that far apart so its easy to pop into each other’s homes. You have keys for her apartment, as does she for your home.

You enter the building through the back entrance they give to celebrities who don’t want to be photographed. I feel the air change as I step into the office. I see the secretary look at me and look away with a grin. Oh no… I didn’t get it and now everybody is laughing at me. My stomach drops. I was so stupid to even try for it. I should’ve known that I lost my touch. I try to avoid contact with the rest of the workers as I make my way to Rina’s office. I take a breath before I open the door, prepping myself to face disappointment.

When I open the door I’m shocked. Rina has a cake and pops the cork on the "champagne" in her hands as she sees me walk in.

“Congratulations you talented bitch! You made it to a chemistry read! You’re this much closer to getting back into the industry!!” Rina shouts while jumping up and down. You feel a smile creep onto your face as you watch the 30 year old toddler. Did you really do it? Is it really happening? What happens now? Will you be able to prove yourself again, or will you fail again in front of everybody? Your smile drops as you start to spiral. Rina immediately senses what’s going through your head and rushes over to you.

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” She pats your back “Just breath in.” You listen to her. “and breath out.” And you do. “It’ll all work out. I have a feeling that you’ll get the role. I wouldn’t have presented it to you if I didn’t think that you’d be able to do it. But ____ so much time has passed, and look how quickly you fell into it again. You’re a natural, and you’ve been doing this for years. It’s like riding a bike.” She says, comforting you.

You wipe your tears and laugh “ That’s not relatable. You know I don’t know how to ride a bike.”

She laughs at your joke. “Ok, that its as easy as breathing. Acting is like breathing for you. I know because I’ve seen it. You are talented, so talented and so strong that I know you can get this role and get back up onto your feet, and even if you don’t get this role, it doesn’t matter because there are so many other projects that you would absolutely kill it in.”

She’s right, this role is everything, but also nothing. Your life wont end if you don’t land this part, this audition is just your first step out the door, your first toe back into the pool and once you make the plunge, there’s no going back.

--

The next week you arrive to the studio where you’ll be doing your chemistry read. Rina asked who you would be doing the read with and they said it would be the second male lead for now. An idol who is making his acting debut names Jungkook. You’re doing one of the scenes where your character has to reject the second male lead, a man who is higher up in the company but younger than your character. Unfortunately for him, at this point in the story the character has started to fall in love with the CEO of the company, who is also her best friend’s older brother that she has known her whole life. But she has gotten very close with the second male lead, as he has helped her transition back into the work place and they have become very close friends. So the scene is very emotional because they both want to be there for each other, but know that they aren’t on the same page.

Makeup artists touch up your makeup and hair before you sit on a stool in front of a camera. Behind the camera is Rina, several producers, writers, assistants, and the director, Min Yoongi. You’ve worked with him before, but he was only an assistant director back then. You’ve remained on good terms with him, the last time you had worked with him was before you became an alcoholic, although it would be hard for anyone in the industry at that time to have not heard what you became.

“____ How have you been?” Yoongi asks while walking up to you, holding his hand out for a hand shake.

“Yoongi, I’ve been doing well.” You say with a slight smile on your face.

“Genuinely?” He says with a concerned look on his face. You know that some people would be offended by this, but you know that he’s a straight forwards guy who just wants to make sure you aren’t going to ruin his project if you land the part.

You draw a deep breath in. “Genuinely. I’ll be candid with you, I’m 6 years sober.” You say, knowing that with him, you have to be honest. It’s probably one of the only things that he truly respects about a person.

With that he offers you one of his signature closed mouth smiles where just the corners go up. “Good, that’s good.” He says giving you a pat on the shoulder. One reason why you guys always got along was that you didn’t have to talk a lot to understand each other. You both were quiet and reserved people who just focused on the work they had to do. “Alright, lets get this started. Taehyung should be here any minute now.”

And like that the breath left your chest. You hear Rina pounce as you feel unable to move.

“I thought she would be doing a read with Jungkook today? That’s what she’s rehearsed for. Why weren’t we notifies of this change?” she says, you see Yoongi withdraw back into himself, clearly intimidated by your best friends protective mama bear side. One of the producers speaks up instead. A younger woman in a classy dress with a neat bob with blunt bangs.

“Jungkook had some idol promotion work that came up and we are running a tight schedule, V was available. Does she want this or not? If she’s truly a good actress like everybody had said she was, then she should be able to read the lines with him.” You can’t help but notice a slight smirk on her face. You can’t help having noticed her ‘was’ when talking about your acting skills. She was challenging you. And you knew you couldn’t disappoint everybody again, you had to prove to everybody that you still have what it takes to be a top star.

Rina starts to respond but you stop her. “You’re absolutely right, Miss…?” you ask.

“LaLisa Manobal, but most people know me as Lisa” she says with an eyebrow raised to you.

“Ah yes, I’ve hear of your work Miss Manobal.” You had heard of her years before. She was an idol from a young age who went solo and had wanted to getting into some of behind the scenes work of making drama. It seems that she’s succeeded now.  “Well, I can assure you that I am still perfectly capable of a simple chemistry read.” You say with fake arrogance. The truth is this wasn’t simple. It was the furthest thing from it. Soon you were going to have to see the only man you have ever loved for the first time since you broke his heart six years ago. ‘

“V’s car just pulled up, they’re bringing him up now.” One of the PAs says to Yoongi. You feel your heart stop, you start to breath faster as you feel your heart beating so loud that you’re scared they can all hear it.

You breathe in. You breathe out. You’ve got this. You practiced this. You worked so hard for this. Breath in. Breathe out.

“You okay?” Rina mouths from behind the camera. You nod. You are okay. Not good, not bad, just okay.

That’s when you hear the door click open, some body guard and managers walk through first and that’s when you see him.

Kim Taehyung. Your Tae. The only man you’ve ever loved.

(next chapter)

[the-axe-and-flail]

Gyomei fic idea 843 that I'm never gonna write but I wish I would-

- And here you stood, basket in hand, filled to the brim with goodies from the infirmary kitchen you knew he'd at least like... if not enjoy. The burn on his arm and break at shoulder were pretty nasty, enough so that you'd begged lady Shinobu to tell him he needed to stay for a day or two, but even her pointed words seemed to crumble before him. 'I'm fine' he'd said, as calm and detached as ever. 'I can rest at home better than I can here.' And that was the end of it.

Or so he'd thought, that is. With broken and burned shoulder now in a sling, you were a bit worried about him. Well... you were actually VERY worried about him, especially knowing how limited his dominant arm was now. Half of you knew he'd heal incredibly quickly, as all the Hashira did, but even so the little voice in your head pestered and pleaded to make sure he wasn't pushing himself too hard. A normal person would be down 6 months with a break like that, but you had no doubts that he'd push himself to stay down no longer than a couple weeks.

Which is exactly why you were here, after all. Basket full of fresh foods to hopefully keep him from hurting himself in the kitchen or garden, and a list of approved exercises and training that lady Kanae had given you to deliver. Yet it was the fact that she'd tasked you with a routine physical that had prevented you from moving any closer up the pathway to his humble home, though.

It's not like this was the first exam you'd done. Far from it, in fact. From corpmen to kakushi, you'd likely examined almost every single person in the Corps at this point, and had seen to every Hashira in the last 5 years at least twice. So why in god's name was this any different? Sure you'd never been to any of the Hashira's private homes, and you definitely hadn't ever shown up and asked them to take their top off, but was this really so different from a normal day at the Butterfly Estate? No... you could absolutely do this!

........

"I can't do this." Okay. Maybe not. Maybe you could just ~forget~ that lady Kanae had asked you to do that. Just hand over the food, explain the exercises she'd requested he do, and be on your way. It was easy enough, it's not like the Stone Hashira was a chatty man by any stretch of the imagination. Just hand it all over, say 10 words, and leave. You could DEFINITELY do that much, sure-

"YN... you've been standing there for a while now. Is everything alright?" The deep timbre you'd come to know so well pierced the anxiety spiral you'd been caught in, forcing you to turn and face him.

"Oh... ha... I didn't see you there Himejima. My apologies. Lady Kocho sent me to deliver some... things, and I guess I got lost in thought." You knew all too well the keen senses the man had, and all you could pray for now was that he was too far up the path to hear your heart hammering against your chest. The fact that he called you by name, however, squashed that hope rather quickly.

"Forgive me for my rudeness" giving a quick bow, the heaviness in your feet wore on as you ascended the hewn stone pathway to the grove of trees partially concealing his estate. "Do you have a moment? I have a few things I need to deliver on her orders." It was easy enough to blame her for your predicament at the moment at least.

"Very well," you watched the large man turn and bid you follow with his good arm, and move up the stone steps. "I will make some tea for us."

[ploffskinpluffskin]

i have about 30 minutes or so before i'll head to bed but i wanted to share some snippets, as per usual. i've been writing more on the natori/muta fic since it's been on my mind more lately. in particular, i added more to this conversation between haru and baron. i'm realizing i do really enjoy writing for baron tbh

Haru breaks their eye contact for him, there, feeling suddenly rather bare in a way she doesn’t truly recall Baron ever managing before. He’s quite intuitive, she thinks, when he wants to be. When she peeks back up at him, she finds that he has given into temptation, eyes downcast and lightly lidded as he takes a small drink. Her own gaze drifts back to the tea cup he had provided her with; she wonders if maybe it’s the same set he had offered when they first met.

“I’ll be fine, Baron,” she says with a shrug and a brief cant of her head so that she looks rather winsome.  (She thinks perhaps she might have learned it from him.)

“Then I have said my piece,” Baron responds, nodding once in brief approval. “In truth, I have the intuition that everything will ultimately be quite well.”

Here the unnamed discomfort that had been lingering between them dissipates; Haru smiles again.

“It’s hard for me to imagine you’d ever feel differently.”

Baron returns her smile. “To live without hope is to cease to live.”

“And who said that?”

“I did, just now,” Baron replies readily, and with such matter-of-fact ease she almost can’t tell if he’s being stoically facetious or not. He’s raised his teacup to his lips. “But we all have Dostoevsky to thank for writing it.”

The rest of their visit passes in relative peaceable familiarity.

and then there is haru and natori interacting, bc Of Course

“He singlehandedly plunged our kingdom into chaos and destitution the likes of which we’ve yet to experience since. I do apologize for being short with you, Miss Haru, but I will not apologize for continuing to hold him accountable for his actions,” Natori explains primly without wasting a breath. “I do believe he has made his bed, and now he must lie in it. I feel that quite strongly.”

Here Haru pauses, trying to decide how best to crack this particular nut. There is something about all this hullabaloo which has become quite obvious to her, but it must be brought to light with care. Natori and Muta have some curious similarities— one of those is the tendency to become stubbornly uncommunicative upon being made vulnerable. But where Muta simply stops talking and starts glaring, Natori covers up his intransigence with circular language and polite topic changes.

Most likely it gets him quite far in his line of work, avoiding those tough conversations, and anyone less (stubborn) might indeed let it happen without realizing what was transpiring. But Haru just might have the both of them beat in this matter. She had sped out in front of an approaching truck to save a small life and do what was right to her; what obstacle was a pair of brick walls in comparison?

“I understand,” she starts thoughtfully, averting her eyes for just a moment so that she might appear less shrewd than she’s feeling right now. “It’s just… I’m only curious, after all, given His Majesty the king didn’t seem to have any recollection of the event at all.”

Haru spares a glance at Natori here, trying to gauge his reaction, trying to evaluate if he’s gathered already where she is going with this line of thought. He’s gazing upon her with the slightest squint to his eyes, tired lines etched beneath them she’d never noticed before, and with a telling brittleness to the thin, straight line he’s pursed his mouth in. 

Absolutely, he knows where she is leading, and she wonders if he will let her finish.

“Of course, maybe by virtue of being the king he didn’t suffer nearly to the same degree as the everyday citizen did,” Haru continues brazenly, but in a soft and nonchalant enough voice that she hopes he doesn’t catch on. “But even from just the short time I got to know him he’s seemed like the type to have a low threshold for hardship. It wouldn’t take much, would it..?”

Natori holds her gaze with a quite level one of his own for a good many moments more than she would have expected, but he does eventually look away. Still, his no doubt long-practiced professionalism remains, and there’s hardly a hint left of his initial anxiety over meeting with her when he finally does mechanically respond. “Please do forgive me— I do not see the value in continuing this particular line of questioning. I politely request that the matter is dropped. However, I shall be happy to indulge whatever other curiosities you may possess, provided they do not eclipse my responsibilities to the kingdom.”

Haru assumes that to mention his retirement shall not get her anywhere.

[eddieslittlefreak]

in the darkness - steddie ff.

summary: steve thought these were just nightmares of his dead lover eddie, but seems like the line between reality and dreams sometimes become blurry. because a heart that stopped beating is still capable of love

note: the dark topics were always one of my favourites!! it’s a really long fic, which i started before my mental health got bad again, but finished when i started to look for something to get out of its pit hole. it made me avoid writing for the last couple of months, time to get back to it !!

A hot night in July. That’s when it happened.

Steve was sitting on his balcony in the late night hours, drinking a cup of tea. He enjoyed the life of the rich way too often after his lover Eddie passed away in mysterious ways. No one knew how the accident happened really, and Steve was dreaming of him ever since the night he left. He sometimes thought he saw a shadow from the corner of his eye, but whenever he turned to take a better look, no one was there. He sort of became paranoid and his friends were honestly worried about him. Nancy adviced therapy, while Dustin offered late night talks with him. But Steve turned these off, telling his mates he is completely fine. Even if a part of him was missing, that Eddie took with him.

After a while he decided to get ready to sleep. He did his usual routine, and shifted to sleep quickly, his mind tired from the constant memory flashbacks he had through the day. All of them were of Eddie. Because Steve smiled and laughed, went on with his days, but the grief was slowly killing him, too.

As the clock striked midnight, a noise was heard from outside of his bedroom, somewhere down the hallway. Steve thought he must be dreaming, but as he heard something again, little drops of cold sweat started to appear on his forehead. He lighted the candle right on his bedside table and got it in his hand. 

His bedroom door opened with a loud creak, and Steve’s heart jumped into his throat. He didn’t even know what could have made the noise, but his guts were filled with horror and curiousness. He took each step slowly, ready for anything that was waiting for him in the darkness.

At least he thought he was ready for anything.

The wax was slowly running down on the side of the candle as Steve approached the sound in the kitchen. His kitchen was gigantic, you could basically get lost in it. Someone was there, facing the cabinet. Steve’s heartbeat was in his throat as he was looking at the back of the man. Long, dark curls were falling onto his shoulder and Steve thought he must be dreaming. His clothing was dark as well, giving his body a beautiful shape. Steve never believed in ghosts, which is well.. a good thing, since this person wasn’t a ghost. He looked just as alive as Steve, and Steve started to get creeped out.

He bit his lip, bruising the soft skin on it with his teeth, while on the top of his tongue there was a name. A name that wanted to knock his tooth out to finally be heard. He rubbed his eyes, still holding into the last bit of hope of this all being only a fidgement of his imagination, a trick that his mind was playing on him.  He thought running would be the best option, so he started to back up, but he didn’t dare to take his eyes off the person in front of him. He wasn’t looking where he was going, so he accidentally knocked down a glass which luckily didn’t break, but made a sharp noise in the silence. 

Steve’s heart jumped into his throat once again as the person turned and now was facing him.

“E-Eddie?” Steve’s voice was weak, filled with fear. The candle was shaking in his hand and little drops of sweat started to form on the back of his neck.

“My, my..” a grin creeped onto Eddie’s lips. He was thrilled and excited to see his lover again. He literally went through hell just to get back to him. “It’s so nice to finally see you again, my dear.” Eddie stepped closer and Steve and Steve almost screamed. He was so close to throwing the candle at him, risking that he burns down the whole house.

“No, wait! Get away from me, you freak!” he cried out, stepping back as much as the wall would let him. Now there was no escape. “You can’t be him! He.. he..”

“Died?” Eddie tilted his head, curiousity hiding in his dark eyes. He was now so close to Steve, that if he reached out, he could have touched him. “Death doesn’t mean leaving, Steve.” Eddie gently shook his head, warm smile spreading on his lips. “I missed you so much, my dear.” he touched Steve’s face. Eddie’s hand was stone cold, like he didn’t have any blood flowing in it, while Steve’s cheek was burning like the sun. “Didn’t you miss me?” he asked as he took the candle, placing it to the near by table. Steve was shaking, terrified to close his eyes for even a moment. He didn’t know what he could possibly do if he didn’t pay attention.

“You can’t be him.” he said as he thickly swallowed. “It’s not possible.” Steve was mostly saying this to himself, because he was a bit scared that he might have gone mad. He should have listened to his dear friends when they offered help, but he had no clue about what was waiting for him.

“I am real, darling. I am so real, and I am here to take you with me.” Eddie said, leaning closer to his scared to death lover. He gently pressed his lips against Steve’s, who was still shaking like a leaf. He felt like his knees are about to give up as Eddie deepend the kiss, so he grabbed his arms and tried to keep himself steady. Eddie’s skin was like porcelain, but he kissed so hotly. Steve felt like every part of him was on fire, burning him to the core. He finally closed his eyes, his limbs giving in as Eddie’s hands wondered over his whole body. He was familiar with every inch of Steve, he knew every secret of his.

“Please.” Steve didn’t know what he was asking for. He was confused, scared and so, so lost.

“Steve, oh Steve!” Eddie raised his voice like a royalty before his most solemn speach. “People think that when your body starts to rot, all the love poures out through the holes on your skin, but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Love still lingers in the core of my bones and every part of me aches for you.” he breathed heavily onto Steve’s neck, as his lips found their perfect spot on the senstivie skin. “My mind is fogged up with the thought of you and I can’t seem to go on without you. I am your lover, right? Do you still want me, Steve?” Eddie touched Steve’s neck, which made the man jump.

“You’re so cold..” he whined softly, eyes traicing over Eddie’s painfully gorgeous face. He used to paint him, sit in front of the canvas for days because he wanted everything to be perfect. Eddie just seemed to casually exist with all of the beauty of his, not even noticing the looks on the streets he got from strangers. And seems like death didn’t change a single thing. He was just as beautiful as he was on the day Steve lost him in the accident. Everything stayed the same; the rasp of his voice, the gaze of his doe eyes, the shape of his mellow lips. Steve’s face got flustered just from the memory of where have those lips been on his body before and now he ached to his soul, pressing up against Eddie. He missed him, he longed for him and he felt like he is about to break under the weight of the grief. But now somehow Eddie was there, more alive than ever.

“Regardless of that, I have a burning desire for you, Steve..” he lowered his voice. He wrapped his hand around Steve’s wrist then placed it onto his hip, dangerously close to his crotch. He was flaming hot there and Steve might have gave a small, needy whine. He was at the edge of crying as he lied his head into the crock of Eddie’s neck, breathing heavily onto the ice cold skin.

“Jesus Christ..” Steve murmured, the soft curls of Eddie’s tickling his face. “You’re.. real?”

“Haven’t you listened to me before, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, wrapping his other arm around Steve’s waist. “So real, and so yours.” Steve finally moved his numb limbs, pulling Eddie closer to him, not even caring about how bizarre the situation was. He was fighting for air, his lungs were desperate. He was at the edge of hyperventilating. “Breath for me, my dear. I am here.” he whispered into Steve’s ear, who needed to listen and he started to feel a bit lightheaded. “Nothing will take you away from me anymore.” he was brushing over Steve’s back, so gentle and careful. 

Steve lifted his head, just to look into the eyes of death. He never seen such terrifying sight before, and he immediately backed up from Eddie, earning a dark glare. Steve clenched his fists as his jaw tensed. He was sure, that this is his lover, but in a much different, darker form that he had before. That once clean and delicate soul now was dirty and rough, and was painfully yearning for one thing: Steve.

“Leave.” Steve said, voice small, but steady. Eddie tilted his head, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“What does that suppose to mean, Stevie?” he asked, eyes dangerously dark. Steve’s gaze lingered over the wall, where one of his favorite paintings hang. He could barely see the outlines of it in the light of the candle, but he knew what that painting meant for him and Eddie.

“I watched you die, Eddie.” said Steve, avoiding eye contact “I don’t want whatever took over you, to shatter my most precious memories of you. You’re the love of my life, and as much as I want to, I just cannot give myself over the mirage of seeing you here, touching you, feeling you. It’s all so fucking terrifying, Eddie. I am so damn terrified.” Eddie listened, not even taking a louder breath while Steve was talking. “You have no clue how I felt on the first night alone. It was the loneliest night of my whole existence, and I wished to never live ever again after it. I prayed to some God, whoever is up in the skies to just take me, too.” he looked up at him “Whatever or whoever you are, do not shade the memory of my one true love.”

At first, Eddie’s shoulder shook a bit and Steve thought that he is about to start crying. But it was quite actually the opposite. The first few small giggles were like a thorn, pushed right through Steve’s heart. Eddie’s playful grin now became a bit evil, but something, something still lingered behind of it that still reminded Steve of who Eddie once was. Does death changes you?

“Haven’t you listened, Steve?” Eddie sighed, as he softly shook his head “It’s. Me. I know exactly how much you still want me, because death never made a difference.” he took a few steps closer to him, and Steve just couldn’t get himself to pull away again. His body was against what his mind wanted. “Let me take you with me, my dear.”

“No.. no!” Steve snapped, then grabbed the candle and rushed out of the kitchen, leaving Eddie there.

It was the darkest hour of the night, when even the moon decided to hide behind some clouds that gathered on the sky. The candle wasn’t enough source of light, Steve couldn’t even see in front of him. He just hoped that he could find a way back to his room where he could lock himself away, and this nightmare would end as soon as he went to sleep again. Suddenly, everything went silent. The wasn’t any creaking, or owl hooting, but the silence, that ate him up. He stopped, like his legs froze, and desperately looked around in the darkness. In darkness, our minds are more likely to make up figures and movements that aren’t actually there, but the brain just turns on the alarm to be careful, and this time Steve’s brain was right to do it. 

He took a shaky breath, and in the next moment darkness fully hugged around him, as someone blew the candle. He almost let out a scream as he now just stood there, completely unaware of his surroundings. At this moment the moon decided to show her face again and shine through on the only window that wasn’t covered by a curtain. And there was Eddie, face painted by the moon light.

“Oh, Steve..” he sighed, looking at the helpless man, who didn’t know what to do. His whole life flashed before his eyes as Eddie pulled him closer to him, now fully unsure what his intensions were. “Why are you running from me? Don’t you want me back?” he pouted, and Steve’s heart shattered in his chest. The darkness, the silence and emptiness around him, Eddie’s sharp and deep voice made his mind numb.

“I-I..” Steve swallowed as Eddie cupped his face, brushing his thumb over his skin.

“You’re coming with me.” Eddie stated.

The next thing Steve felt was a sharp pain in his chest, then something cold running down on his torso. He couldn’t really breathe and suddenly Eddie’s beautiful face started to became a blurry mess in front of him. His whole body felt heavy and everything in his mind became a blur.

“E-Eddie?” Steve coughed, then he looked down and saw one of those fancy knives that they got for their wedding from their friends, sticking out from his chest. His eyes widened, but oddly enough, he didn’t panic. It was rather strange than scary. Maybe the main part of him really wanted to go with Eddie, and his body finally overtook his mind. His blood was all over him and the floor as he fell onto his knees. “Eddie, please..” he held his hand, pressing his face to Eddie’s hip. “What’s going on..?”

“The red means ‘I love you’.” he giggled, caressing Steve’s soft curls.Steve felt weak as he looked into those beautiful, but cruel eyes. It felt like home, actually. “It’s you and me forever, sweetheart. Death will never do us apart.”

[sublimecatgalaxy]

I need @honee-chai-tea and @steezysimfinds to request more Loki stuff cuz you write him so well. Yes, I follow you that closely to know that it's gonna be a bomb fic when they're behind the request.

Honorable shout out to you two.

I figured I'd send one in before you close requests when your on vacation (which is so exciting btw happy anniversary)!!

Maybe prompts 12 and 23? Super random but I wanted it to be a challenge 😌

You're the best.

YOU GIVE THEM THAT SHOUT OUT BESTIE LOLLLLL!!!

I adore you, thank you so much for the love and for following closely enough to appreciate my lovely mutuals. Thank you so much for the anniversary wishes and I'm writing this in advanced but I hope that I would've had a wonderful anniversary and vacation (I pray that Justin's mother behaves lmao).

There's a look of fear in Loki's eyes as he stares me down from across the Great Hall, the words around us, the cheerful music, all whisked away as our eyes meet.

It's been nearly a week since I stormed out of his chambers, in a fit of rage, after a huge argument regarding his apparent engagement to a lady from another realm. It was the Allfather's idea and, though she was against it from the beginning, Frigga was in no position to argue for her youngest sons wellbeing.

She knew of our relationship, the things we've done, the things we've shared with one another, but we all collectively know that Odin would not have cared for our 'child like love' or so he has called it in the past.

But there's only so long I can take his incessant staring before I have to excuse myself, slipping out of the hall and abandoning my meal. I can hear footsteps behind me, following me, and I can only imagine that it's Loki.

"Please wait." Loki calls out, fingers wrapping around my wrist and I hiss, trying to snatch my hand away from him but he just grips harder.

"You're hurting me." I whimper and his eyes widen in fear, immediately letting me go. "I can not talk to you right now, Loki."

"I'm begging you. Talk to me." He whispers, completing ignoring what I had just said just moments ago. A breathy whimper escapes me as he takes a hesitant step towards me. "You’ve always pushed people away , Y/n. I just never thought you’d do it to me." He breathes, shoulders tense and I look up at him through teary eyes.

"I love you and I want to be with you." I sob, slapping a hand across my lips and I watch as his heart breaks visibly, his eyes tearing up at my pathetic words. He's silent, there's nothing to say to me that will make me feel better, but instead he just reaches out and takes me in his arms, cradling the back of my head and for a moment I let myself close my eyes and relax into him.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the heart @vampviolets@haylee-e @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife

@officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @witxhy-lexx @minjix @luvroseee @tee-swizzle @savageneversaw @admiringlove @hysteriahall @piceous21 @starlightandfairies @igotmajordaddyissues @drewstarkey-wife1 @manyfandomsfanvergent @revesephemeres @bungunz

[unohanabbygirl]

I reread Fill my bleeding heart again. I know that’s just a one shot but omg Princess 😭 I need more of them. I know I CANT be the only one obsessed with this Lucemond, I feel for Luke. And Father’s Day is coming so maybe we can convince the hell out of you. 👀

Seriously though I would love to see anything about them even if it’s a small thing. Without further ado, I have a few questions to ask:

(You don’t have to answer one’s that may be to spoily if you ever do continue the story asp)

Do they want children?

Did Lucerys take the moon tea because he simply feels they are ok without a child? Or is it because he believes even though they are older, they are not ready for one?

After a person is about 45 they typically have hit the peak of being able to have a child. Pregnancy is not impossible, but it is also not easy. So I can Understand Luke taking the moon tea to keep himself safe from the possibility of losing the baby ,or rather, his own life. And If I am understanding correctly Aemond was drunk? Interrupted as the strong taste of ale on his uncle’s lips cuts him off. smokey and bitter, almost like burning firewood. That makes it so much more angsty to me 😭 Like a “Has to be drunk to comfortably bed Luke” situation. Ugh these two…

I just know you would kill a fic where Lucerys and Aemond are in an arranged marriage but Aemond actually takes whores so he barely touches Luke, so the one time he does Lucerys is so happy but come the morning he is alone again…

I’ll see myself out before I add anymore.

FMBH Lucemond has been on my mind for a while. Maybe this is a sign to finally open up that google doc 😭

As for your questions!

Luke wants children desperately, I’m talking to the point where he daydreams of silver haired babies and has a list of names thats been sitting in his dresser for twenty years. Both traditional Valeryon and Targ.

Aemond is more complicated in his desire for children because on one hand he truly yearns for a mini version of his husband, but isn’t confident in his ability to not mess up something so special. His father was basically an uncaring corpse and though Alicent tried her best the only one of his siblings who turned out ‘normal�� is Daeron who spent his entire life in old town.

Luke drinks the moon tea because he sees their marriage as a union void of true love on Aemond’s end. In Luke’s mind his love is unrequited and would never willingly bring a child into that sort of dynamic.

As far as he knows, Aemond is only cordial because he’s learned to make peace with his presence. Whereas the sex is nothing more than stress relief for his uncle.

As a man who was born out of and raised in true love Luke wants the same for any child of his own. The thought that their child could grow up seeing that Aemond cares little for him is heartbreaking. So he drinks the tea to avoid it.

His age is also a big factor and something he’s already deeply self conscious of. Luke doesn’t personally know of anyone who’s had a successful pregnancy past the age of forty and is scared to be the first. Not to mention the stress of running Driftmark on top of that. So many factors to take into account in this little au.

And yes! I’m happy you caught onto Aemond being tipsy.

Its not that he can’t touch Luke without liquid courage, but that he knows if he were to go without it all of his feelings would spill out with no warning. And we all know how scary of a thought that is for a man as emotionally constipated as Aemond.

Oh anon you break my heart with that fic request 😭 Imagining if Aemond actually took a paramour over the years while Luke waited for him only to have his heart crushed once morning came.

Okay, you’re slowly convincing me to write a part two LMAO.

[infinite-orangepeel]

XYZ from the writing asks, plus a bonus question- how did you start writing ftm!Steve and any particular thoughts on that topic? I love your writing so much, especially how you write ftm!Steve <3

omg this is so kind, thank you so much ❣️i’m more than happy to answer those questions and talk a little bit about writing trans masc steve !! again, i so appreciate your support :)

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

if you’ve read my writing, you likely have a good idea of who it is lol. but for anyone who hasn’t, it’s 100000% steve harrington.

i adore him, he is my angel, he is the loml, he is everything to me, and yet, giving him the whumpiest/most tragic/tear-jerking plot lines brings me deep satisfaction as a writer (but only if it ends in a happy ending for him which i always ensure bc i refuse to curse him with permanent suffering—not on my watch haha).

Y: A character you want to protect.

strangely, also steve harrington.

i just want to wrap him up tight, make him some tea, and put him on some anxiety meds (likely bc i project onto his character like no other). however, i also want to protect eddie, the party, robin, nance, and the rest of the crew. i don’t want any of them to hurt !

Z: Major character death—do you ever write/read it ? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate ?

i feel like i can handle a lot, as a reader. i will gladly read the angstiest/saddest/occasionally even dead dove steddie fics. i will blink past gore and tragedy and devastating back story. BUT i draw the line at major character death/angst no happy ending. my tender little heart needs the characters to end up okay. unless it’s major character death after they’ve lived a long, very satisfying life. then, okay i can probably handle it hahaha. and as a writer, i’m no different ! i have yet to venture into killing off a major character bc it would break my heart to do so (though i’d never say never). and as far as one i could never tolerate, probably steve !

as for trans masc steve and how i began writing him—i’ve always really liked the idea of a steve who’s already pretty established in his queer identity/knows what he wants by the time he and eddie collide. as much as i love fics that include eddie being steve’s bi/gay-awakening (and have written them, myself), i find it even more interesting (as a writer) to explore steve as a queer/trans masc character who can deeply connect with eddie on the experience of navigating queer identity in such a closed-minded small-town. a steve who has already been navigating those waters by himself for quite some time and finally gets to take comfort in being vulnerable/open with eddie about his lived experiences just makes my heart very happy. i also think it adds a certain depth to their relationship and i imagine it obviously would’ve been quite challenging to find that sense of community in a place like hawkins.

hope that answers your questions and please, feel free to message me with any others that come to mind :) always happy to share about where my inspiration comes from for my characters !

[shinycollarboneapologist]

okay let's be boring and go with ace as a name bc that's my nickname irl bc I'm a massive gilmore girls fan (team logan btw iykyk)!!

I really want to attempt writing fics but I'm wayyyy to nervous! I was okay at English in school and I always send obnoxiously long asks into blogs on here with my ideas based on their fics (sorry fellow tumblr.com authors you all get forced to see my writing) but I have nightmares of writing and putting it on here only to be bullied off the platform ahahahahah

jealous of the sun bathing in England rn its been pissing it down raining all dayyyyy, we only get like 1 week of sun a year and the rest of the time its very stereotypically rainy !! my day was shit but always better after taking to you bff!

also please excuse my excessive use of exclamation marks idk why but to me a full stop feels mean and I also use ellipsis way too much but I, like you, am the drama so I love to build unnecessary tension...

I've actually always wanted jury duty but I've never been called for it, I know it's meant to be so boring but I want to live my jury duty delusion of being a hot juror! a torrid jury love affair? hello I'd read that fic

spring break always sounded so fun to me as a sad English child!! we just call it Easter holidays and be boring and religious but when I hear spring break I imagine drunk people on a beach in florida yk?

my current obsessions for blogs are;

-lottiecrabie (pfms has me in a chokehold)

-toomuchracket (living in the flatmate! matty delusion rn)

-byyourside28 (loving the soft sound series as a person obsessed with getting tattoos)

-justlikemebutsixfootthree (literally all their smut is god tier)

-bookishstrawberry (fluffy and gizmo series has my heart)

-imightgetbetter (the whole love it if we made it series has me wanting children but only fictional ones with matty... the delusion creation is STRONG)

and OF COURSE the no 1 blog on tumblr is the beautiful, amazing and unmatched... shinycollorboneapologist

omg yes to only letting matty into our cottage to sing, we will bring him out tea and cigarettes but otherwise no rats allowed sorry ratthew!! taylor however gets the master suite with a 4 poster bed and unlimited pampering!! same with Ross, George and Adam bc only ratty needs humbling (I really do love you tho Matthew give me one chance I'll be your controversially young gf)

ily bff!!!

-ace (my new name rip illicit affairs anon you will be missed)

ps. apologies for the ridiculously long ask I literally am so obnoxious

..... i love gilmore girls. lets chat abt that.

okay that is very ... warranted. i also was super nervous and tbh ... style was probably never going to be posted but i was a bit inebriated after my birthday and just posted it without looking back. look at us now!!! so for that, i say you should 110% just take the leap. i will be your #1 fan actually.

i will send the sunshine and good vibes your way. i usually like the rain a lot, but i can imagine it gets a bit tiring if its like that all year long. im glad you had a good day!!!!

i love your use of exclamation points okay. there i said it. it just makes everything you say feel so excited and happy and i love it. the ellipses ...... love that for us. ofc you are the drama, you're the main character hello.

that is how i want my spring break to be, but alas i am working and writing my silly little stories for tumblr.com. SGLJFDLG easter holiday just sounds so cute though?

okay can we talk about pfms.... because that. that fic is my hyper fixation atm. like i just … it’s everything to me.

also all of those blogs i follow and love more than life itself. most of them axtually inspired me to write myself which is like 🫂 i use all of them as my silly little delusional daydreams (esp toomuchrackets flatmate!matty, the things i would do for that man and justlikemebutsixfootthree’s recent smut… jeez)

please you are too kind. idk abt no 1 blog BUT… i’ll take it okay.

maybe some cheese too, since he is a rat. taylor gets the master suite with us, we’ll bake her little cookies and biscuits and give her the best pampering treatment of her life. (also pls let’s not conjure matty to my blog … that would be so embarrassing to me i think i would keel over and die) (i also will fight u for the spot of matty’s controversially young gf)

ilysm and i hope u have a great day

[luaspersona]

ok, i couldn't really wait to gush abt this 😭😭😭😭 cus its just so sickeningly sweet and devastatingly comforting 😭⚠️ you had zero rights to make me feel this soft 🔪

now hear me out! 😭 your writing always feels like a warm cup of tea after a bad day, and going through your sentences is like being embraced by the softest pillow 🥺

you're always able to write things in such a realistic way, and you translate emotions SO WELL! the first part, with tae and hobi laying together, was so domestic, so sweet 🥹 the way they just fit together and feel at home with each other, like:

Taehyung might even say that Sunday morning dates were his favorite tradition. They were at the very least, a consistent highlight of his week that encouraged him to continue his long and tiresome work days.

ugh, im desperately single rn

but also!! the fic had a lot of fun, light-hearted moments too. the break of expectations from the end of a part to the other was so fun lmao akdha not me trying to pretend i have some control over my life 🫠

and if this man aint me...

According to Hoseok (who always seemed to know what he was thinking), Taehyung was an open book (i.e. shit at hiding his emotions). 

and this scene just took me back to taejoon during in the soop lmao 😭 the poor babies

Like Taehyung, he wasn’t allowed into the kitchen. Taehyung was banned after a few too many mishaps with over-cooking and burning food that led to them needing takeout (which was arguably better sometimes when one didn’t have to spend an hour trying to remove charred food from pans after).  Namjoon on the other hand was banned after his first time in the kitchen. The man has a knack for breaking things and that didn’t go away in the kitchen. Seokjin let the knife incident go because it was Namjoon’s first time using one. How it had taken Namjoon 26 years to finally use a knife, Taehyung didn’t know. That being said, after Namjoon managed to break a drwar, he was banned.

another thing i wanted to point out, its how tae's anxiety and insecurity were so well depicted. i can only imagine how hard it is to share something we feel self-conscious about, especially when previous attempts of talking about it went so poorly. one description that i found particularly creative was this one:

His mouth felt dry like the one time he tried to make bread and managed to make a brick instead. He felt like a brick of bread. 

never saw someone describing anxiety like that and it felt absurdly accurate.

ugh our baby bear did NOT deserve that 😔🔪

it was so heartbreaking to see how he spirals and thinks his friends will give up on him and that hobi would want to break up omfg 😩 BUT thankfully hobi is our sunshine and never fails to assure people 🥺

i just really loved this, like i always love your writing. i appreciate you for taking the time to write this, cus it was VERY comforting, babe 🥹

Hands, Hands, and More Hands

Summary: Taehyung runs an ASMR channel that he wants to keep secret. He plans on telling his boyfriend and friends soon… Someday. He’s most definetly going to share. He’s nervous about it though. After a few bad experiences in the past he’s found it harder to share his love for ASMR. When a flier about his channel is posted on the community board of his building (a big place of gossip) though, he’s forced to share… Or keep quiet.

Prompt: This is part of @bangtanwritingbingo​ for my prompt “hair brushing”!

Word Count: 4.8k

Pairing: Taehyung (BTS) x Hoseok (BTS)

Genre: fluff, angst

Warnings: allusions to anxiety attacks and anxiety, insecurity

Ratings: teen up

Authors Note: thank you to the lovely @btsmosphere for betaing this! I greatly appreciated all of her help!!!! 💜💜💜

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[clownakin]

tea break