#like it popped up overnight seemingly

[buckyalpine]

Actor Bucky x civilian reader 

I’m feeling angsty. Fluffy. Just a thought. But like a long thought. 

-

You should have known this would happen eventually. 

You knew you should have put your phone down and gone to sleep hours ago. Scrolling through social media did nothing to ease you mind as you stared at the 100′s of posts that showed Bucky whispering in her ear with a boyish smile. A sickly feeling spread from your chest, up your neck and to your cheeks, the type of heat that made your throat constrict and your eyes burn. The lump in your throat was painful to swallow, blinking back tears when you clicked on a video that had been shot by the paparazzi and leaked to the press, all the news outlets having a field day with brand new pics of a budding Hollywood romance. 

“Well, there you have it folks! Looks like Winter is warming up over here, stay tuned for more updates” 

“Single no more? Things steam up on the set of The Winter Soldier” 

“Swipe to get a sneak peak on the hottest new romance everyone’s excited about”

You wanted to throw your phone across the room, instead keeping your eyes locked on the way your boyfriend was cozied up with his co-star, the two of them seemingly giggling over an inside joke while taking a break between shoots. Her face was practically tucked into his neck while he laughed, both of them apparently blissfully unaware someone was watching. 

The image turned blurry from unshed tears, squeezing your eyes shut, turning your phone off all together. Your deepest insecurities reared their ugly head, thinking about Bucky’s effortlessly gorgeous co-star with her tall and slim build with curves in the right places. They looked like a dream couple; both attractive with obvious chemistry on screen and based on the “leaked photos”, in real life as well. Every single fear you had over the last few weeks were proved to be true with a few viral pictures. 

- 

Bucky groaned, silencing his phone after getting yet another unknown caller asking him if he’d care to comment on the latest headline about him and the lead actress in his upcoming movie. He ran his hand over his face seeing the way social media blown up overnight after someone had taken pictures taken out of context making it look like he was smitten and in love. His PR team insisted that a few candid shots would be good for promoting the movie and great for his image; when he agreed to having hired paparazzi's take a few “spontaneous” pictures, he thought it would be pictures with the whole cast; not just suggestive close up shots with his co-star that appeared intimate. 

Great.

He’d tried to call you repeatedly, every single one going straight to voicemail and all his texts unanswered. It had been a days since the new broke out and nothing had died down. Bucky hated that he was miles away from you, unable to even send anyone to check on you after you both agreed to keep the relationship a secret. The only person in his life who knew was his best friend, Steve, who was also on set. You’d been so understanding of his career, you hadn’t told a soul to make sure nothing ever leaked. Bucky knew you were used to a few rumors popping up every now and then about him and a potential new girlfriend but this was the first time there was photo evidence. 

New stories popped up like weeds. 

The last straw for him was when he spotted a magazine cover talking about his upcoming wedding and speculation over if there was a secret child on the way.

He couldn’t care less about PR or the movie anymore. A text to the director later, he was in his car driving off straight to you, carefully weaving through traffic while making a pitstop with his best disguise of a hat and sunglasses before speeding off once more. 

-

You sighed at the new stories that were still being posted on your social media feed, locking your phone once more to go back to the book you were reading. You’d ignored all of Bucky's attempts to reach out, choosing to spend less time on your phone, already drowning in insecurities and doubt. You took out a bunch of books from the library and spent more time the kitchen hoping anything would help take your mind off of the love of your life having an affair with another woman. 

The sound of the doorbell pulled you away from your book; you weren’t expecting anyone and it wasn’t usual for any of your friends to stop by in the middle of the afternoon. You were going to ignore it, thinking it was probably someone attempting to sell you something but-

“Y/n, doll I know you’re home, it’s me baby” 

Oh.

Your felt your stomach drop. Heart beating so fast, you could feel your veins tremble in your finger tips. He rang the bell again in hopes that you’d even hit him, smack him, happy to take it, anything to at least see you again. Your emotions swarmed all over the place, anxiety, anger, love, all of it fighting for dominance while you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

Asshole.

But that was your Jamie.

Dick.

But you loved him with your whole heart. 

“Babygirl” Bucky pleaded outside of your door, realizing the giant teddy that was 4 times his size and flower bouquet of 100 red roses did nothing to keep him discreet. “Sweetheart, please let me explain” 

You reluctantly opened the door, more worried that if someone saw Bucky at your door, a crowd of fans would end up swarming the area. If not for all the other emotions you were feeling, you almost giggled at the sight of a very wide, puppy eyed Bucky holding a stuffy that was larger than him and a bouquet of flowers that nearly covered his face. You wordlessly stepped out of the way while he dragged the comically large bear into the living room, placing the roses in its caramel fuzzy paws before turning to you.

You.

His pretty doll.

He could see your eyes were still puffy from nights of crying. Your lips were glossy from the balm you used when they were chapped after you’d nervously chew on them. Your poor little nose he loved to boop and kiss so much looked dry from how much you sniffled. Those gorgeous eyes he loved to stare into refused to even look at him, looking at your fluffy sock clad feet instead. You were still wearing a large hoodie of his but you probably hadn’t noticed when you slipped it on. 

Bucky hated it. 

His poor precious doll was so hurt all because of a stupid PR stunt. 

“Baby” You stood rigid as Bucky stepped towards you, his hand coming to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin, “Those pictures, they were taken out of context darling, they weren’t meant to come out like that-

“Then how were they meant to come out” You frowned, moving away till Bucky’s hand dropped, a sad sigh leaving his lips. 

“The team-they thought a few random, candid pictures would garner some publicity to get people talking. I thought they’d post pictures of everyone together, not just me and her”

“That doesn’t explain why you were so close to her” You fidgeted with the long sleeve of the hoodie, this time letting Bucky reach out to hold your hands though you left them limp while he gently squeezed them. “So that was all you then? That’s even worse Bucky” 

“No baby, no” Bucky frantically shook his head, pulling you closer with his hands now on your waist, “I pushed her away the second she got too close but apparently finding your co-star insufferable isn’t good PR. I looked irritated in all the other pictured so they didn’t use them. I promise baby, I’d never do anything to hurt you. I know I did and I’m so sorry, doll” 

While a part of you believed him, the other part of you couldn’t digest the fact that the rest of the world still thought they were a dream couple. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did. You didn’t even want to begin to imagine the headlines that would pop up if the public saw you with Bucky. You couldn’t scrub the image away of how perfect they looked together, feeling frumpy and awkward in comparison.

“I can’t be like her Bucky” You struggled to keep your voice steady, not willing to cry in front of someone who clearly could do better even if he looked like he was ready to fall on his knees for you.

And then he did. 

“Y/n, I don’t want you to be her. Or anyone else, I want you” Bucky looked at you with pleading eyes, taking your hands in his and kneeling, pressing his lips to your knuckles. 

“But no one else thinks I deserve you. I thought I’d be okay with you maintaining a single image, I know it’s important for your career but I-I can’t watch interviews with people talking about how perfect you look with someone else, how you both look so in love-

“I’m done”

“What?” Your heart stopped, your hands shaking wondering if done meant he was done dealing with your worries, your insecurities, done with you-

“You’re the one I want. Not anyone else. I couldn’t care less about what others think baby, not when it’s hurting you so much. I want people to know who I’m in love with”

“But-

“If you’re not comfortable with it, I understand. But I don’t want to hide you anymore angel. Never again” 

Movie Premier 

You swallowed thickly, your heart beating out of your chest, fidgeting with the gown you had been dressed in, nervously twirling the ring on your finger. The limo came to a halt, the driver opening the door to a sea of screaming and cheers, a plush red carpet ready for you to step onto. 

“Ready, princess?” Bucky grinned, stepping out of the limo and reaching his hand out for you to take, helping you step out of the car. You gasped at the flashes of cameras and shrieks of fans coming from all sides, everyone trying to get Bucky’s and your attention. 

“James! Over here! Who is your date for the night?” 

“Miss! Miss!” 

“Over there, darling”, Bucky whispered in your ear while you smiled at a different set of photographers, each of them clambering over another to get the best picture of you both. 

“Could you step over here please, great, now one with the young lady, beautiful, James, one more!” 

Bucky simply smiled and nodded, keeping his hand around your waist, guiding you down the red carpet and stopping for more pictures along the way. He skillfully avoided the reporters who called for him, keeping a protective grip around you as you both entered the hall to get seated. Hardly moments later, headlines had already started spreading everywhere, your phone blowing up with messages from friends and family wondering if they were seeing the news articles correctly: 

James Barnes steps out with Mystery woman

Secret lover? James Barnes shocks fans with his premier date

10 things we know about James’s girlfriend

You giggled at the numerous posts that started to pop up on social media, your heart fluttering at the beautiful pictures of Bucky looking at you with heart eyes in every single one. There wasn’t one where he was looking anywhere else, focused on you the entire time and clearly people had noticed. You couldn’t help but feel warm and fuzzy at the comments people left, silencing all the doubts you had in your mind.

Get you a man that looks at you the way he looks at her

No wonder he was hiding her, shes gorgeous

I love him but like can someone tell me who SHE is?!

Look at him, he looks like an absolute puppy around her

She’s perfect for him, they’re babies are gonna be BEAUTIFUL 

There goes my chance. I can’t even be mad cause he looks so happy and they look so cute

“What you reading there, baby” Bucky kissed your shoulder, peering over to see what you were looking at on your phone before slipping it away into your clutch. He smirked, sneakily nipping your ear lobe making you gasp before continuing to whisper in your ear. “They’re right you know. You look so beautiful baby, gonna rip this dress off as soon as we get to the hotel room”

“You can’t rip it Bucky, I have to give it back-” You hissed but he wasn’t having any of it, his hand moving to squeeze your thing, grazing your skin from the slit on the dress. 

“I’ll pay for it. But you’re right, I won’t rip it. We’re keeping it, I wanna fuck you all type of ways in that-

“Oh my god” You hushed him with a peck to his devilish lips, your face hot while he gave you a smug smile. He couldn’t wait for the news that would go wild in the next few months.

James Barnes proposes to long time girlfriend, y/n y/l/n

Ready to tie the knot? James and fiancée spotted at wedding venue 

Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Barnes!

James and y/n fly to the Amalfi coast for Honeymoon 

Happy Anniversary to Hollywood's favorite couple

Baby bump or food baby? Y/n Barnes steps out in oversized hoodie for a late night food run

Baby Barnes on the way? 

Double trouble? James reveal’s he and his wife are expecting twins 

y/n Barnes posts first pictures of babies and they couldn’t be cuter 

Bucky couldn’t wait. 

[ozzgin]

“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

[alphajocklover]

Wake Up Pops

**A sequel to my earlier story, ‘Wake Up Bro’. It might be little premature to write a sequel only a month later, but the second picture really inspired me. Hope you guys like it, and check out the story of Owen’s transformation into Big O**

“Wake up pops.”

Ben Smith looked up at his son in shock. Lately his son, Owen Smith, had been acting strange. He had shot up more than a foot seemingly overnight, and had gained an almost impossible amount of muscle. It almost hurt Ben’s brain to think about it, like he was noticing something he wasn’t supposed to be able to. Like he was staring at the sun. But he brushed his son's seemingly impossible transformation as a strange growth spurt, just like everyone else did. What other explanation was there? What he couldn’t brush off was his sons… other changes. It was like he was an entirely different person. He had gone from the shy, sensitive, geeky kid that Ben adored to a sport obsessed, crude, overly sexual jock. Worst of all, their relationship as father and son seemed to have just… stopped. Owen and Ben used to be so close. Owen looked up to Ben, Ben adored Owen, and they did practically everything together. But since Owen’s transformation into ‘Big O’ he had consistently ignored his father. Too busy with his new position on the football team, with his new jock bro friends, and with the girls he seemed to constantly be hooking up with. This was the first time that Owen had spoken to Ben in weeks, and what he was saying made… no sense.

“Owen? Is something wrong?” Ben asked, his first instinct to help his son. Strange transformation or not, Owen was Ben’s child. He had to make sure he was ok. Owen grinned a cocky, dumb grin, looking at his dad with slight dull eyes.

“Everything fucking great pops. I just need you to wake up pops.” Owen said. Ben looked at him with confusion. What was his son talking about? He was awake, wasn’t he? Own continued, looking at his father with a strange mix of dull amusement and genuine love. “I know you miss the old me. You miss us being close. I’ve missed you too pops. We can be the same again. You’ve just got to wake up pops.”

Ben, concerned and confused, made a move to comfort his son, when suddenly a wave of vertigo overcame him. The room around him dimmed till all he could see was his sons grinning face, his voice echoing around him. “I love you pops, but a stud like me needs a stud dad. A mentor. I can’t have a geek for a dad. And this way we can be close again. You’re meant to be more than this. It’s time to wake up pops.” Owen said, his grin turning more satisfied and victorious.

Ben felt the room began to spin as he fell back mentally, the words repeating in his mind like an all consuming loop, almost like a vortex. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. Wake up pops. WAKE UP POPS.

Ben was so lost in the words that he barely noticed as his son led him over to a mirror. Ben was so shocked by what he saw that he almost passed out right there. He looked… godly. He was impossibly big, with a body so thick and beefy that it commanded respect. His face had become so chiseled and manly that it put marble statues to shame. He barely looked like the suburban dad he once was. More like he belonged in the movies or in porn. He heard Owen laugh, a confident, manly laugh that Ben felt himself echoing without even meaning to. Owen spoke once more, a look of pride on his face.

“Fuck yeah pops! Now we’re both total studs! You let your inner jock wake up, and now we’re gonna fucking rule this town together!”

Ben felt his old self recede, as something else, someone else woke up and took control. Ben fell asleep, and Big Os pops, Coach Smith, woke up. Coach patted his son on the back, a smug grin on his face “Fuck yeah we will son.”

[notes-of-nari]

Straykids as the "friendly ghost"

Lee Know

• You had heard that your new apartment was possibly haunted but you didn't believe it at first. As there wasn't any paranormal activities to be seen. Well… Maybe except for the fact that since you moved here your cat seemed to have a new habit of zoning out and staring at the wall with wide eyes.

• Oh and except the fact that you would sometimes wake up in the morning to find the stuff that was on your table, on the ground. You would end up scolding your cat as you believe that she is the culprit.

• One day you had to suddenly leave for a three day overnight workshop at your college. You were very worried about your cat because there was no one to take care of her and you couldn't ask your neighbors for help because it was against the apartment building's rules to have pets. So the only thing you could do was give enough food that would (hopefully) last for three days. The three days you spent at your college was some of the most painful days you had ever spent. And you could finally understand the reason why your mom would worry so much when you used to be away from home. Finally the three days came to an end and you hurried home. However when you opened the door of your apartment you were met with.... a man sleeping on your sofa with your cat cuddled in his arms. • He opens an eye, sees you and immediately disappears. WELL.... seems like you had finally met the ghost that was known to haunt your home. You check on your cat to find that she has been well fed and has also been supplied with fresh water to drink. You realize that it must be the ghost who took care of your cat. And you are thankful. • You don't see him much, except for a few rare occasions when you see him in the middle of the night seated near your window while your cat sits on the window sill , both looking out. • One day you hear someone clearing his throat behind you. "uhmm she wants to go outside." he says pointing to your cat who is seated near your door. He becomes your cat's official translator and message bearer?

• It takes one year for you to even get to know his name

• you wake up in the morning and sleepily walk to the hall to find him sitting on the corner of your table. He is pushing your flower vase to the corner of the table slowly with a finger. "Minho! Nooo.." Welp too late he slowly blinks at you before he pushes the vase to the ground and disappears.

• has the habit of randomly appearing behind you and screaming "boo!" , "ice creammm" or whatever phrase that pops into his mind, right into your ear.

• exam week was stressing you out so much that you were entirely dependent on caffeine until you find a hot bowl of ramen with veggies and eggs on your table. For the whole week you are provided with food and a nagging ghost who is against you pulling all nighters to study.

• Seemingly prefers the company of your cat's over yours

• Some nights, you see him standing in your garden gazing at the moon with a forlorn expression while your cat sits next to him. Bangchan / Changbin / Hyunjin / Jisung / Felix /Seungmin / I.N

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Band AU: Hazbin Hotel

Because there's always a band AU.

-666 News Broadcast Theme Plays through the dive bar cafe from the small, flickering TV in the corner-

Katie Killjoy: Breaking News in the Pop industry today! Our sunshine and rainbows, Mandy Moore wannabe, and Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar, has come out with a new music video to help promote a brand new album that appears to have been conjured up seemingly overnight.

Angel: Hey, Vagina! (Elbows Vaggie) Ain't that your girl crush from the open band night down at Husk's Casino two months ago?

Vaggie: (chokes on her coffee) What?! Turn it up, Jackass!

Angel: (steals the remote from across the bartop and turns up the TV)

Tom Trench: And, boy howdy, this makeover is on par with most Disney child stars diving off the deep end!

Katie Killjoy: (spears a pen through Tom's hand) No one gives a shit Tom.

Tom Trench: MY HAND!!!

Katie Killjoy: Spectators and fans of our usually diabetically sweet princess feel that this sudden shift is caused by her breakup with Seviathan Von Eldritch just last month, ending the royal arranged engagement, after he mentioned how she refused to "put out" before marriage in an interview with Hell's High Class Weekly.

Vaggie: (bristles) The douchebag....

Katie Killjoy: Let's watch as our lovely princess makes her breakdown public.

-Screen shifts to Charlie holding a mic in one hand while picking a guitar in another, wearing 2000's Avril Lavigne glam rock attire (hot pink, baggy cargo pants, black leather studded belt, rainbow converse, black leather wrist bands, grey tank top with two black goats faced just the right way so their curved horns make a heart and tied together with a rainbow knot, and a black and red stripped tie) Razzle and Dazzle are playing drums and bass-

Charlie: Don't you know that IIIIIIIII- (flips off the camera and sticks out her tongue while mouthing "Fuck you, Seviathan" as the song reaches its climax) I don't give a daaaaaaaamn about you!!! I won't give it up, not for you!!! I'm not gonna cry about some stupid guy. A guy who thinks he's all that!

Vaggie: Whoa! (Big smiles like when Adam got stabbed) Get it, Charlie!

Katie Killjoy: (as the screen returns to normal) Other songs on the album include "Behind These Crimson Eyes", "The Dick Who Blocked His Own Shot", "Smack a Bitch", "Since U Been Gone", and the gay community's rabid favorite "Dear Vaggie"-

Angel: (sucking down his third popsicle for breakfast) What now?

Vaggie: WHAT?!?!?!?!

Katie Killjoy: -The obviously plagiarized parody of "Cool for the Summer" by Demi Lovato has unsubtle lesbian and bisexual overtones that specifically mentions Vaggie "the Steel Vagina". The lead singer and guitarist of the Power/Grunge Metal band, Fallen Angels

Angel: (wheezes as he laughs breathlessly and falls off his stool)

Vaggie: (steaming) Angel!!! ¡Eres un chupapollas, hijo de puta! Why would you tell the news that was my name?!

Angel: (ugly walrus gasps and giggles) Because it's better than I ever dreamed!!!!

Katie Killjoy: Fans of both artists are absolutely frothing at the mouth to see what Vaggie's response will be.

Tom Trench: Frothing at the mouth and other orifices, if you catch my drift. (Gets a pen slammed into his balls) GaaAhaHaaaaHaha!

Katie Killjoy: More on this story tonight at eleven.

Vaggie:

Angel: Soooooo~ Whatcha wanna doooooo~?

Vaggie: We're going to Tune Town, getting a copy of that album-

Angel: Ooooooooh-hohohoooooh~ I can visit dat nice glory hole they got there.

Vaggie: -THEN!!! We are going back to the apartment and making a response single.

Angel: Do you know what you even want to put in it?

Vaggie: (slipping on her jacket) I'll figure it out after listening to the album!

[tainted-liquor]

'Are We Still Friends⋆⭒˚｡⋆

E42!Miles Morales x BlackFem!Reader: Ingredients: Salt, tears, and a lil bit of sugar (angst n fluff) TWs: N-word usage, swearing, you need a hug frfr W/C:780 A/N: Inspired by Tyler, the Creator's song

It had been almost a year since you had spoken to Miles. You seemed as thick as thieves and even had a little blossoming romance between you two. But the day his father died is the day the Miles you came to love died as well. He stopped talking to everyone, he stopped laughing, he stopped smiling, shit he even stopped showing up to school at some point. For 3 months you tried to get a hold of him, ask him what was wrong, anything! You just wanted some clarification as to where your friend went.

But unfortunately for you, life ain't fucking fair. So he faded into the background of your life, slowly and painfully. A year seemed to pass by overnight, and like that you had...'moved on'. You found new friends, took up new hobbies, went through a mental help revamp, and changed your aesthetic up a bit. A part of you had even managed to convince yourself his thumbprint on your life was a fever dream from long long ago. But nothing could have EVER prepared you to be forced into close proximity again when it came to your AP environmental science class when your teacher partnered you up with...oh no.

Miles.

He threw you a brief glance, with not even a fraction of the warmth and joy he used to look at you with. You felt your heart crackle a bit as you took a long, deep sigh. You'd come this far and you weren't about to pry the scab off just because he gave you a look. You mentally prepared yourself when you saw him get up from his chair and head towards your desk, opening your computer and distracting yourself with Google slide presets and how to make the layout look pretty. He sat himself down in front of you, not saying a word as he opened up his computer and immediately got to work in pure, awkward, silence.

You popped your AirPods in your ears, turning up the volume a little bit to hear "Are We Still Friends?" By Tyler, the Creator hitting your eardrum. You chuckle quietly at the irony, rolling your eyes as you barely mumble the lyrics above a whisper. You watched through your peripheral as Miles's eyes darted over to you for a moment, seemingly reading your body language as you pulled one of the coils in your two afro puffs. He sighed as quietly as humanly possible, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the ceiling with that same nonchalant and slightly irritated expression. You watched as he closed out of the Google Slide, got up, and left.

He waltzed out of the classroom door silently, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he closed the door behind him. You rolled your eyes as you finished up your portion of the slides before heading out of the classroom in the direction of the library. You didn't know Miles was there really, so when you walked in and saw him there you were immediately taken aback. He looked in your direction before nodding upwards, and beckoning for you to come here with his hand. You narrowed your eyes, sighing and making your way over to the table he was sitting at.

You sat across from him, face stoic and irritated as he stared right back at you. "So what, now we talking again?" You spat as you tilted your head to the side. "Alright, don't start with all that bul-" He began before you forcibly cut him off. "Fuck you mean 'don't start' with my bullshit, nigga? You ghosted me for a YEAR. Like, are we still friends?" You barked, face contorted in a look of rage and hatred. Miles sighed for what felt like forever, before looking back at you. "Look, I know. N I'm sorry. I never meant to shut you out like that...One day turned into a month and I started getting scared that you wouldn't wanna talk to me no more...so I just ran from it before it could catch up to me."

You gave him a sharp glare as you thought about what you wanted to respond with carefully. You took a deep breath before finally replying. "I really don't wanna end shit with you on a bad note, so I'm fine with talking to you again. Plus you still got some of my shit over at your house I need back" I huff as I dap him up. "Ard bet. Just swing by later, you know where I'm at." He shrugs with a tiny smirk.

"Bet, I'll see you later then. Don't ghost me this time!"

"Shut up."

[choke-me-joey]

Ch1/Ch2

Summary: As Joe's long-term girlfriend, you reflect on your relationship over the last 4 years.

Content warning: 18+ so minors are not welcome, real person fiction (don't like, don't read, don't bitch), smut, fluff, angst, probably inaccurate timelines and processes but does anyone really care?, alcohol use, smoking...if I've missed anything please let me know!!

Author's note: when I was deep in my Dan and Phil phase I wrote this, published it on AO3 and then took it down so before anyone says "Hey this looks familiar" don't panic, I'm not stealing anyone's work and I can prove it lmao. Thanks to @harrys-four-nipples for reading this first chapter and telling me it wasn't as shit as I thought. Love you girl 🥰 feedback is always appreciated, let me know if you'd like me to continue this!

Paris

December 2022

After the craziest year anyone could ever imagine, exploring and staying in a variety of hotels across the globe, the last convention of 2022 was finally happening. You had been by your boyfriend's side the entire time; your job as a freelance photographer/social media specialist pretty much allowed you to travel anywhere and everywhere and luckily Joe's team were on board with you providing his official con photos and managing his social media. But as ideal as that sounds, it hadnt been easy.

It had been one of the best experiences of your life, watching the man that you love so, so much bring so much joy to the millions of people around the world who adored him. Despite being at every convention, watching all the fan interactions and all the panels, you were never bored. It hadn't all been perfect though, in fact it had been extremely trying at times, what with Joe being so damn exhausted there was barely any 'you' time, or fans getting a little bit too crazy at the meet and greets, but you wouldn't have traded it for the world.

You'd think that being cooped up on planes, in hotel rooms and travelling constatnly for months on end, spending almost every waking minute of the day together would have seriously damaged your relationship, but in all honesty, it brought you and Joe closer together. Sure, there have been times where you’ve wanted to smother each other with the shitty hotel pillows, but what couple doesn't argue? Without the option of slamming the bedroom door shut and sulking, you've learnt to just talk it out, and move on, and things have just gotten better and better. You had just celebrated our 4 year anniversary in Tokyo last month, and Jamie was constantly teasing you, telling you if you didn't get a ring this Christmas, you two could just run away together instead.

Of course, Joe had gotten super salty at the joke, seemingly never being able to escape the never ending question from his family and friends of when he was finally going to pop the question. He didn't need it from Jamie now too. He was going to do it, he just didn't want to rush it after all.

As it was the last con of 2022, Joe's team had given you some time off to just enjoy the convention, acknowledging that you had worked through your anniversary in Japan. This meant you could actually walk around the con and hang out with some of your friends, and enjoy the panels, which you were grateful for. You had some time to chat with Joe's dad too, which was always a good time, you got on so well with him and it was nice to see just how proud he was of his son.

Although you had been together for 4 years now, you and Joe weren't quite comfortable with going public with your relationship just yet. Joe had sky rocketed to fame overnight and his fanbase could be a little...intense. They went into a frenzy if he was spotted within 5 feet of another girl, and said girls were always stalked and harassed online and Joe didn't want that for you. You'd been pretty good at hiding it so far, most fans just thinking you were part of Joe's management team always there to keep him on schedule. It was a bit shit not being able to hold his hand or give him a hug in public but when the time was right, you both agreed you would go public.

You had headed back to the hotel a little before the con was over, Joe would no doubt get waylaid by fans outside the convention centre and you'd said you would order you both some food and run a bath for him so he could just relax now he was done for the Christmas period. New Orleans was a little after New Years so you'd have time to explore Paris, get home for Christmas and see in the New Year together.

Joe practically collapses through the door and you run to hug him, you were both desperate to touch each other after a long day of pretending to be work friends.

"Hi," you mumbled into his neck. "Last one for this year done, babe. I'm so proud of you."

He doesn't respond, he's holding onto you as if someone was threatening to take you away from him. "Babe, what's wrong?"

"I love you so much," he whispers. "Thank you."

"Joe, you don't need to thank-"

"Yeah, I do. I just thought that you've been there from the very start, and you've worked so hard, putting up with all my shit and you've been so supportive. I couldn't have done it without you." He sniffs, looking a little emotional. "Tonight was the first night I've actually been able to see you and not your camera, and knowing you were actually there, right in front of me, like, everything from the past 4 years went through my head and I could see you smiling at me, and the fans and I just..." he trails off, at a loss for words. You kiss his cheek, your own eyes welling up.

"You're such a soppy git, Joe." You tease him, but he knows you're joking.

"Shut up, you're just as soppy. " He laughs, poking you in the side gently. You poke my tongue out at him and he crosses his eyes in response, before my phone buzzes to let me know our food has been delivered to the hotel lobby. You break away from Joe, kissing his cheek and heading downstairs to grab your food.

You both scoff down your food, both of you having been way too busy to really eat a proper meal today, and then Joe gets into the bath. He tries to persuade you to join him, but honestly the bathtub here was smaller than the one at home, and even that could be a struggle to fit the both of you in, so you decline, changing into your pyjamas and watching some random show on TV and scrolling through your phone, replying to messages in the Quinn family group chat and your own family group chat.

You can't help but bite your lip in appreciation as Joe comes back into the bedroom, a towel around his waist and his curls dripping. He makes his way over to his suitcase in search for a pair of clean boxers. Your eyes scan over his bare torso, his broad shoulders, sharp collarbones, toned arms and his perfect stomach with a dusting of dark hair disappearing into the towel. He feels your eyes on him, standing up and turning around.

"What?" He smirks, stifling a yawn. You return his smirk, stretching a little.

"Nothing, just admiring my boyfriend. That alright with you?"

"Depends, can I ogle you like a pervert the next time you come out in just a towel?" Joe jokes, quickly pulling his boxers on under his towel, pulling it off and hanging it back up in the bathroom, before crawling on the bed and collapsing on his stomach, sighing heavily.

"You do anyway, I'm just more subtle about my staring, Quinn."

"You're just as pervy as me, Y/N, dont even try and pretend you're not. " he laughs, turning onto his side, pulling you down and wrapping his arm around you. You cuddle into him, burying your face in his neck.

"Difference is, Joseph, the whole Internet can see what a flirt you are, nobody has dirt on me."

"M'too tired for your smart arse right now."

"You like my smart arse." You grin into his skin, and he chuckles, the sound rumbling in his throat.

"I like your smart everything," he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. You sigh in response, enjoying the feeling of him cuddled up to you. "M'so tired. And my back is killing me."

"Did you twinge it again?"

"Mm. Hurts."

You untangle myself from him and roll off the bed, rummaging through your suitcases until you find the baby oil you always use to keep your skin moisturised after a shower. You shake it up as you walk towards the bed. "On your stomach, babe."

"That is the most terrifying thing you could say to me whilst holding baby oil." He eyes the bottle in your hands suspiciously, but does what you've said anyway.

"I believe that would actually be 'face down, ass up and just relax'." You smirk, climbing back on the bed, straddling his legs. He groans dramatically, making you roll your eyes and laugh. "You're such a drama queen, babe."

"Making a living off of it, aren't I?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up Mr Man of the Year." You quip, opening the bottle and pour some of the oil into your hands, rubbing them together to warm it up before pressing your palms against his shoulder blades. You apply just the amount of pressure that you know he likes, rubbing his flawless skin. "That okay?"

He responds by letting out a quiet moan of approval.

"How did I get so lucky?" Joe groans into the pillow as you continue to rub his shoulders and upper back, trying your best to work out the knots in his muscles. You smile, placing a kiss to the back of his neck that makes him shiver slightly.

"You elbowed me in the tits on the Underground and made me spill my coffee all over myself." You chuckle, adjusting your position on his legs so you could massage further down.

"The one time in my whole life that me being a clumsy twat has actually worked out in my favour." Joe's voice is muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he's smiling. He grunts in pleasure as you knead his lower back gently.

"Meh, you're just lucky I thought you were hot." You teased, gently poking him in the sides. He chuckles softly. "And you were, and still can be, so socially awkward, it was endearing."

"Mm, love you." He mumbles, and you know he's slowly falling asleep by the way his body is relaxing beneath you.

"Love you too, babe." You whisper back, moving off of his back and into bed next to him, pulling the covers over both of you. Ypu push his curls back from over his face. "Always have, always will." You kiss his temple and turn off the bedside lamp, letting him sleep off the post convention exhaustion whilst you take advantage of the good selection of TV channels the hotel has.

A few hours later, you're still awake and on your phone, scrolling through Instagram, the TV long turned off. You're laid on your side facing away from your currently snoring boyfriend. Joe grumbles in his sleep and rolls over, moulding his body around yours and spooning you. You feel something poking you in your bum and smirk to yourself, wiggling your butt back against him.

"Hmm, you still awake?" Joe whispers, his voice rough with sleep and exhaustion, one of his hands running over your thigh.

"Mm, I didn't wake you up, did I?" You reply, shivering in delight as his lips graze your neck. You roll over to face him, and he moves your leg on top of his, moving your bodies closer together as he kisses you hard, his hands wandering around to your ass and squeezing it.

Oh.

You see where this is going.

"Are you sure you're up to this, Joe? You're exhausted." You say quietly, trying your best to control your breathing after you break away. Thanks to your busy schedules, it been at least two weeks since you'd last had sex. You snuck in whatever you could, but mostly it was just heavy make out sessions or occasionally a hand and/or blow job to help with Joe's anxiety levels. You were practically soaked already and he'd barely touched you.

"Never too tired for you," he mumbles, pecking your lips softly, and slowly lifting up the hem of your (his) shirt. "Off?"

You nod, and you both work together to rid you of the oversized shirt. "C'mere," he grunts, rolling you on top of him, his hands on your hips as he looks up at me.

"Lazy," you tease, your skin feeling like it's on fire as he runs his hands up your sides.

"Beautiful." He responds, giving you that little smile that makes your heart melt every time. It's a smile that only you get to see, and it's during your intimate moments like this that he smiles like that, and you fall in love with him all over again. You hum and lean down, kissing him passionately, your tongues dancing around each other. His hands return to your hips, pushing them down against his crotch as he lifts his hips up, and the friction and heat makes you both moan. You nibble on his bottom lip, which you know drives him crazy, before moving to kiss his jawline and neck, a somewhat external G-spot for him. "Fuck..."

"Well, if you want, I mean, I was just gonna suck you off and then take care of myself," you grin against his skin, and he responds by slapping your ass lightly. In return, you bite gently on his collarbone, and he grunts, the noise going straight in between your legs. "What do you want, Joe? Tell me."

"Wanna fuck you," he growls, turning his head and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging gently. "Wanna be inside you so bad, baby, please."

You whimper, nodding. Foreplay would have to wait for tonight.

You sit up and awkwardly peel off your underwear, throwing it somewhere in the room, deciding you'd find it in the morning. You gently palm Joe's cock through his boxers, making him grunt and moan your name loudly, before pulling them down his legs, and he kicks them off his feet. You take his cock into your hand, squeezing gently and stroking him a few times. "Please, baby, m'not gonna last long..." You'll let him off for that, it really has been forever since you last fucked. You reach across to the bedside table, grabbing a condom from your makeup bag (damn your birth control prescription running out before you'd realised) and tearing it open. He holds his hands out to put it on himself, but you slap them away, rolling it on him as slowly as possible, making him grit his teeth, grunt and buck his hips slightly.

Deciding to be a bit more of a tease, you hover above him for a few seconds, grinding down ever so slightly. He grips your hips so tight there will definitely be bruises in the morning, and he bites his lip, whimpering and cursing. You decide to let him off, because you want this just as much as he does, and you place the head of his cock at your dripping pussy, slowly sinking down onto him. He throws his head back and moans, a little too loudly, as do you. "God, I missed this...missed you."

"I missed you too," you sigh, placing your hands on his chest, giving yourself a bit of leverage before you start to move your hips. "Fuck, Joe, you feel so fucking good..." as much as you want this to last, you know it won't. You can already feel your orgasm growing as you grind down against him. He bucks his hips up, his cock brushing my g-spot. "Oh my god, Joe!"

"Fuck," he growls, his breathing heavy. "Faster, baby, please, I-" he cuts himself off with a moan as you obey. "Shit, fuck!"

"You're so loud," you giggle breathlessly, gasping as he places his thumb on your clit and rubs in time with your thrusts. "We're gonna get noise complai-AH, FUCK, JOE!"

"I'm the loud one, am I?" Fucking asshole.

"Shut up," You gasp, as he sits up, wrapping your legs around him and attaches his lips to your collarbone, sucking and biting as you move together. You can tell he's getting close from the way his breath is coming out in pants, and his moans are getting more desperate sounding. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, and you run your fingers through his curly hair, and he looks up at you.

"Kiss me," he whispers, and of course, you do. "M'getting close."

"Me too," you whisper back, and he reaches between you to stroke your clit. "Joe, I-"

"I know."

The room is filled with your moans, and heavy breathing as you both get closer and closer to the edge. Joe moves his hand and lies you down on the bed, so he's on top. He winks at you, and smirks as he puts your legs around his waist, and his hands either side of your head. He ducks down and kisses you softly before moving his hips, fucking you hard and fast, the way he knows you like it.

"Oh,my god Joe, I'm gonna cum!" You moan, digging your nails into his back.

"Do it, wanna feel you cum for me," he groans, and all it takes is him angling his hips just right, and you're coming, moaning his name probably way too loud, your whole body shaking. Joe curses and stills, pushing his cock inside you one last time as he cums into the condom, hard, his head dropping onto your shoulder as he whispers your name, telling you he loves you. You say it back, stroking his neck gently as he collapses on top of you, his head on your chest. "You're amazing."

"I think you'll find that's you, babe." You say breathlessly, grinning like a fool.

"I am pretty fucking good in bed, aren't I?" Joe grins, a teasing lilt to his voice.

"You always know what to say...so romantic," you roll your eyes, poking him in the tummy.

"Mhmm, you're very lucky. I mean, I even make sure you cum every single time we fuck, if that's not true love, I don't know what is." He pulls off the condom, tying it and throwing it into the bedside bin.

"Be still my beating heart!" You laugh and kiss the top of his head, rolling out from underneath him. He pouts, reaching out for you with grabby hands. "Joe, as much as I'd love to cuddle right now, I seriously need to shower after that. Wanna come with?"

"Depends, you might have to roll me, you've worn me out." he yawns, sitting up on the bed. "Besides, I already had a bath. Can't you just give me a sponge bath or something so I don't have to move?"

"Again, lazy. And I know you already showered, but if you think I'm cuddling with you when you smell like sweat and sex, you can fuck right off." You tease, grinning with your tongue poking between your teeth. You turn around, heading into the bathroom and turning on the shower. After waiting for the water to warm up, you step in, relishing the warmth cascading over you. A few minute later, you feel Joe's arms wrap around your waist and his body pressing up against yours. You stand in silence for a few moments, letting water fall down over you both. He then turns you around in his arms so you're facing him, your arms around his neck.

"Y'know, we could have just done it in here, that way we could be in bed right now." He says, flicking his wet hair out of his eyes. You run your fingers over the short hairs at the back of his neck as he leans his forehead against yours.

"Hey, I'm not the one who fell asleep before we'd even had a chance to do anything."

His face falls a little. "I'm sorry, I've been kind of a shitty boyfriend recently, haven't I?"

"What are you talking about?" You frown up at him, his beautiful brown eyes avoiding yours.

"Well, just with conventions and appearances and everything, and how busy we've been, I haven't had time to just...be with you, y'know?"

"Joe, we live together, we travel together, we're with each other every day almost-"

"That's not what I mean, we haven't been on a date in literally forever, I was at the con in Tokyo the entire day of our anniversary, and my dad was with us all day before that, for fucks sake!"

"Your dad is pretty much with us all the time, babe. It doesnt bother me, you know how much I love him. Turn around." You say, squirting some shampoo into your hand and massaging his scalp. He sighs.

"See, this is what I mean. You do all this nice stuff for me, like the back rubs, the food runs, the surprise blowies-"

"Which I do because I want to, not because I feel like I have to." You take the shower head off the wall and rinse his hair out, before running some conditioner through it. "I love you, and I know exactly what being with you entails. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I got salty about everything?"

"A normal one." Joe retorts, turning back around and gesturing for you to turn your back to him so he can wash your hair for you. "And I'm glad you're not, I just feel bad. You do everything for me and I can't even give you five minutes recently."

You don't respond, revelling in the feel of his fingers on your scalp, massaging in the shampoo. You hum appreciatively. He rinses out the shampoo and runs conditioner through your hair, making sure to cover every inch. "When we get home, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"Joe-"

"Please? We can go out and celebrate our anniversary properly, dinner, drinks, a movie, whatever you want."

You turn back around to face him. "What I want, is to stay in, order Chinese, shag and then fall asleep on the sofa with you. Joe you don't have to take me out, or buy me shit to make me feel like you love me. I know you love me, without all the materialistic crap, okay?"

He said nothing, instead he looked at you his eyes looking a little misty. He was an emotional mess tonight, but you couldn't really blame him. He blinked a couple of times, and kissed you on the nose.

"Turn around, you sap." He mumbled, giving you a small smile. He basically meant 'stop before you make me cry' in fewer words. You laughed softly, before turning back around so he could rinse your hair and his. Once you're clean, you step out and dry yourselves off, and you put on Joe's shirt again, this time pairing it with some pyjama shorts. You quickly dry my hair before getting back into bed, settling down with your head on his chest and his arms around you. "See, isn't this better than standing up and actually moving?"

"Mm," you sigh, already feeling your eyes getting heavy. "I miss our bed though."

"Me too, when we get home we are gonna spoon so fucking hard in bed for like a week." He mumbles into your hair.

"What about food and stuff?" You look up at him, raising an eyebrow. He laughs.

"Of all the things you're worried about, I love how food is at the top of that list. I fucking love you." He kisses the top of your head and switches off the bedside light. "Maybe we can persuade Wes to bring us breakfast in bed."

"Oh yeah, I can totally see him being okay with that," you laugh, my hand resting on Joe's stomach. "If anything, you owe me breakfast in bed after all these bloody photos I've taken of you. Know how hard it is to make you look good mid sentence?"

"Ouch, low blow, babe."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. You know I love looking at you, chocolate button eyes." You tease, laughing as he groans into his pillow.

"I need to learn to think before I divulge all this stuff. I'm never shaking that am I?"

"Never ever."

[asteria7fics]

Can you tell us about you main 5 early teens awkward phase headcanons?

Please!!!!????

Ooooh yes I can!!

This will actually be so helpful because I’m about to write them at about this age (around 15-ish) but the narrator for that will be… a little unreliable, so to speak. So consider this a totally unbiased exploration of the main 5 as they enter everyone’s favorite stage of life: Puberty!!

Stan: Growth spurt hits around 12/13, and is a major string bean until he starts taking football more seriously at the beginning of high school. I also imagine he’s the first one to get a deeper voice, which means lots of awkward voice cracks that the other guys absolutely shit on him for. Greasy guy all around, though he does at least try to not smell like a garbage dump most days. I also think he would keep his hair pretty short at this point in his life, cropped around the ears but slightly longer on top. He really hasn’t found his aesthetic yet so he just lets his mom tell the hairdresser what to do.

I also think this would be around the age that Stan gets really deep into his appreciation for heavier/more technical music. He and Kenny get closer, plotting how to make Crimson Dawn a reality again (Ken’s just along for the ride lmao). He’s had his acoustic for years, but his electric guitar and amp would be his big Christmas present when he’s 13. Randy definitely tries to engage with him about music and Stan absolutely blows him off. Like come on, he’s 13. He’s too cool for his dad, obviously.

Kyle: Ooof, puberty is not kind to our king early on. Doesn’t have his growth spurt until the summer after Stan has his, so he starts 8th grade beyond awkward. Hands down gets the most acne, though it’s mostly hidden under the mop of hair on his head. He ends up on Accutane and that helps a ton, but he still keeps his hair long and in his face until he’s 17 (as briefly mentioned in IHISD!)

The only time anyone really sees his full face is when he’s playing basketball, as he has to pull his hair back to, yah know, see. Once the Accutane does its thing and he gets comfortable with his new giraffe limbs girls start noticing him again, which does help recoup a lot of his damaged ego from those early years as a teen. Kyle is also hands down the cleanest of the main 5, and starts wearing cologne regularly in his mid teens (personally, I think he would smell like this!)

Kenny: Has the least noticeable growth spurt (ends up 5’9 at 18) but his voice drops the earliest. Not that the guys pay attention to that either, since he basically never speaks when all five of them are together. (Butters does notice, btw). Is a stinky gremlin until he gets to high school and has access to the locker room showers so he can bathe more regularly, and is absolutely the first of the boys to adopt drenching himself in AXE body spray as a substitute.

He stays pretty thin into his mid-teens and continues to fly under the radar, which is a huge help while he stays with his vigilante work. I do think Kenny is the least awkward of the main 5 in general, and I don’t imagine that changing much as he gets older. His interest in women stays pretty consistent, and I think the most unfortunate thing that happens to him is the amount of random boners he pops at inopportune times.

Cartman: Gets his major growth spurt between when Stan and Kyle get theirs, and is an absolute menace about being taller than Kyle for, like, a handful of months. Of course he ends up being the shortest of the main 5 in the end, so when Kyle shows up one day having shot up over him seemingly overnight he is BEYOND pissed.

He also struggles with acne, though not as badly as Kyle and mostly around his jaw/chest. This is also around the time his eyesight starts going to shit again (eye transplant be damned, I am a Cartman wearing glasses truther) so he gets his first semi normal pair of glasses around 14. This is also around the time that he starts growing out his hair, refusing to get it cut for literally no reason other than to exert power over his mom.

Butters: A perfect angel that goes from 5’ to 6’3 in the blink of an eye. Literally, he just shows up one day after all the other boys’ balls have dropped suddenly a million feet tall. He also definitely has the most difficult vocal transition, just a squeaky guy for a couple of years.

Of all the main 5, Butters’ newfound sexuality hits him the hardest. He’s suddenly extremely aware of the physical features he’d been distantly attracted to as a boy, and since he was never really talked to about these things like an adult he doesn’t know how to handle all his awkward erections. Thank God he has Kenny, honestly. Otherwise, he’s a pretty clean guy that usually smells like toothpaste and Head & Shoulders shampoo.

Anyway, this is already a lot, so I’m gonna throw in some random headcanons in a tasty list.

Stan, Kenny and Butters all struggle with mild porn addition in late middle/early high school, Kenny having it the worst.

Cartman has the weirdest/kinkiest porn taste, though Kenny is a close second.

Kyle is not altogether very interested in porn, though he does still watch some pretty vanilla stuff when the mood strikes.

Stan and Wendy still date on and off throughout middle and high school. Wendy loves when Stan is finally taller than her (personally headcanon her as a kid as being slightly taller than him hehe).

Kyle has a couple of short relationships with girls as an early teen, but stops trying to date around 16 to “focus on school” (lame excuse).

Cartman and Butters get zero bitches regardless of their age. Kenny doesn’t start really attracting girls until he’s older and makes a name for himself.

Alright we’re moving a little too far from the point of this post, so I’m gonna stop there. Thank you for asking for these!! I had so much fun considering these little details of their awkward transition into manhood!! (๑>◡<๑)

[huckleberrykai]

husband Kai u say👀👀👀👀👀👀

Im half asleep too so pls don’t mind me not elaborating my thoughts 😭

But first: kai proposing to u. He tried to do something fancy with the help of the boys but turns out every time he tried to pop the question he’d just chicken out😭😭😭😭😭 and one day he came back from work super tired and decided to sleep at ur place, crushing down on the bed with you wanting some cuddles and when my boy is half asleep whining about taking a shower he mumbles something about getting married and you’re just like YES I DO

Ahem anyways soft husband kai who tries his best to make you a nice breakfast ALL THE TIME, not just in special dates or whatever. He’d bring breakfast in bed and feed u😠 (if u happen to be pregnant he’s be so soooooooo gentle with u, always patting ur belly while u eat ☹️)

Husband kai who looks like a giant golden retriever and always tries to make u happy and dad kai who feels so overwhelmed in a good way when u tell him ur pregnant ☹️☹️☹️ he’d do researches all the time, buy books to learn more about gentle parenting and buy those corny baby clothes to match with you guys 😭😭😭😭😭😭

FUCK GHIS IS SO CUTE HDJSKL

crying at ur proposal idea 😭 he'd almost propose on accident, whining into your shoulder cuddled up on the bed. he's still fully clothed fresh home from a long day of practice, and all he wants is a warm shower and cuddles - but he's so tired he can't carry his body over :(

"kai baby you've gotta shower."

"hmmmph,, don't wanna. 'm comfy."

his face is nestled into your chest now, delicate hands holding an iron grip on your waist keeping you close.

"well... how about i get in with you? i can wash your hair for you. we'll be quick then we can get back in bed, i promise."

he looks up at you with the biggest sleepiest puppy dog eyes that are just filled with so much love for you.

"you mean it?"

"well i'm not letting you stink up my clean sheets," you tease.

he laughs along with you but the love in his eyes doesn't waver. "i love you so much. thank you." he smiles wide and sweetly. ".. should just wife you up right now." he mumbles.

"i'm down."

"w-what? you wanna marry me?" his eyes blow wide and he hugs you tighter, holding eye contact and squishing your sides.

"of course i do. i'm not dating you just for shits and giggles kai."

"no i mean.. i mean will you marry me? like seriously? like.. now?" his voice is nervous and shaking a little, tiredness seemingly gone.

"are you proposing right now?" you laugh, and when he nods adorably and his hair falls into his eyes you can't help but lean down and kiss his pouty lil lips :(

"there's a- there's a ring in my backpack!" he jumps up to route through the overnight bag that he brought to your apartment. "i couldn't find the right time but i-"

he didn't even need to finish the sentence before you're jumping up after him and kissing him again. "yes, i'll marry you! now come on, let's shower then you can put that ring on me, m'kay?"

EHUEHEUHEH THEN HUSBAND KAIII he's so soft :(

OH UR SO RIGHT ANONIE he lovessss to make sure you've eaten enough, even feeding you sometimes because you're his baby and you deserve to be fed and pampered <3 also thanku for supporting my tummy lover hyuka agenda bcs his hand is gLUEDDD to ur tummy at all times. he loves when you've just eaten together and cuddle on the couch so he can rub your nice full tummy - and he smiles when you let out a content sigh.

and kai doesn't cry a lot, if ever - but when you tell him you're pregnant with your first baby together.. oh he's BAWLING. hands on tummy intensifies x1000 which you didn't even think was possible. he's stressed but so so full of excitement and love <3

THE GENTLE PARENTING IS SO TRUE HE'S THE NUMBER ONE SOFT BOY !!!! and the matching outfits :(( he'd definitely already be planning Halloween outfits for the three of you and showing you the silliest ones !! he's also the kinda husband that wakes up at 3 in the morning because he thought of a possible name and just HAS to tell you or write it down. (he's not gonna wake you up, he knows better than to disrupt the sleep of his pretty pregnant wifey >.<)

also he's just obsessed with you when you're pregnant!! he's obsessed anyway but you just look so pretty and glowy carrying HIS baby he just feels so protective over you and your little bean :( seeing that ring on your finger and the bump of your tummy just reminds him of the love you share and how much he wants to protect and love you forever :(

man he's just the cutest husband n dad in the whole world he's lovely <3

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy, Chapter 12

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Relevant tags/content warnings: Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Periodic Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Read the full fic so far on AO3

Read previous chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l Ch. 5 l Ch. 6 l Ch. 7 l Ch. 8 l Ch. 9 l Ch. 10 l Ch. 11

Chapter 12 summary: The Batch make a plan for infiltrating the villa.

Hunter glanced up at Dara’s dozing form curled on top of the Marauder and shook his head. The sun was just peeking over the horizon as he and Echo returned from their surveillance shift, and he could hear the chattering of the planet’s small woodland creatures all waking up at once. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to know why Dara was sleeping outside. If it had been one of his squad, whose quirks were innumerable and often incomprehensible, he wouldn’t even bother to find out. As it was, he couldn’t be sure of the right approach to take with this temporary member about whom they knew so little.

Entering the ship to find the others wide awake, he thought maybe they’d have a better idea. “Any clue why Dara slept on top of the ship last night?” the Sergeant asked.

Tech and Wrecker looked pointedly at Crosshair. “She did not seem very pleased when they returned from town,” Tech observed.

Hunter crossed his arms. “What did you do now?” The sniper only shrugged, a smirk lurking dangerously at the corners of his mouth.

Wrecker elbowed him and grinned mischievously. “Hey! Be nice to her. Dinner was so good last night I think I might ask her to marry me.”

Crosshair’s expression quickly turned to a scowl. “The mission went fine. We got the intel. It’s not my fault if she wants to sleep on the roof.”

“Maybe she’s just sick of us,” Echo speculated. “Sounds like she spends a lot of time alone. It’s probably an adjustment to be cramped up in the Marauder with five men day in and day out.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” Hunter muttered.

Tech looked at Crosshair curiously. “How did Dara do, by the way?”

The sniper met his gaze with shared understanding. His brother may not have been as hostile as he was, but he was smart enough to know that something was off with her. “A little too well.”

For once there was no bickering on the subject, only a thoughtful silence from the group of clones before Hunter sighed heavily. “We’ll keep a close eye on her tonight. Wrecker, go wake her up so we can make a plan.”

Wrecker popped out of the hatch and returned a short time later, followed by Dara, who was blinking blearily. She seemed out of it as she undertook the painstaking ritual of preparing her tea. Not for the first time, Crosshair’s eyes were drawn to her hands: the patient tap of her fingers against the pouch as she tipped the herb into her mug; the way she fiddled with the metal straw, arranging it just so; the curve of her grasp as she poured the water. He watched her mouth as she took her first sip, noticing the bags under her eyes and the way she rubbed, absentmindedly, at the purple and reddish blotch he’d left on her neck.

“Sleep well?” he taunted.

She pursed her lips and passed the beverage along to Hunter. Finding the Sergeant also watching attentively for her answer, she shrugged.

“Was looking at the stars for a bit before bed and fell asleep by accident. Wasn’t too comfortable but I’ve slept on worse.”

Wrecker laughed heartily. “Us too. Remember that time with the leeches on Nal Hutta?”

“Don’t remind me,” Echo shuddered. “I still have nightmares about it.”

“Fortunately, I do not believe there are any leeches on this planet. Although it does appear that Dara may have been bitten by a large insect overnight,” Tech observed. Crosshair looked at him closely, finding a hint of amusement in his eyes; Tech could miss a lot of subtlety, but he certainly wasn’t naïve. He knew that what he was looking at on Dara’s neck wasn’t an insect bite.

And everybody thought Crosshair was the shit-stirrer.

By the way Dara’s jaw tightened nearly imperceptibly, she hadn’t missed his brother’s tease. “Got hit by a branch walking home in the dark, actually,” she countered, daring him to call her out on the lie.

Hunter turned a thoughtful gaze to her. “Are you alright? You seem…”

“I’m just a little concerned about the mission,” Dara interrupted, eagerly redirecting the conversation. “Something the director of the lab said last night made me think that Prium is developing a project for the Empire. And if that’s the case, the security protocols might be tougher to break through than we expected.”

“Not for us,” Wrecker asserted confidently.

“Hmm. We’ll keep it in mind,” Hunter mused. “Right. Let’s share intel and start making a plan.”

Dara gave them a rundown of what she had gleaned from her conversations in the market and the bar. In turn, the others reported their discoveries from the past day and night of surveillance, which had revealed plenty about the villa’s security protocols, the guards’ schedules and paths of their rounds, and possible entry points.

However, as Dara had voiced, breaking in wouldn’t be without its complications. “Unfortunately, it appears that I will be unable to replicate our trick for disabling the proximity sensors and outside cameras from our last job,” Tech admitted. “The security systems here cannot be accessed remotely. I will need to do so from the control room inside of the villa.”

“What are our chances of sneaking in undetected while those systems are still active?” Hunter mused.

“Very low,” Tech replied matter-of-factly.

Wrecker cracked his knuckles with enthusiasm. “So we rush the guards, stun them all, and break in by force!” he proclaimed.

Echo placed a stern hand on his largest brother’s shoulder. “Hate to burst your bubble, but if we do that and they send for reinforcements from town, we could wind up having a lot of trouble getting out of there. Not to mention how much harder it will be for Tech and I to break into the lab if they initiate a security lockdown. And if the Empire’s really invested in this guy’s work, we can’t rule out that we might draw Imperial attention before we can get off planet.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Dara’s still-weary mouth. “Tech, could you load everything you need to override their security systems on a datapad so that somebody else can just plug in and run it? Then only one person would have to make it in, get to the control room, and the others can sneak through an accessible entry point.”

Tech blinked owlishly behind his goggles. “Of course.”

Hunter furrowed his brow suspiciously. “Are you suggesting one of us poses as a guard to get in there? I thought you said all the guards are locals—we won’t be able to slip past, the others will know we’re not one of them.”

Dara shrugged. “All the guards and other villa workers are locals. But Raab said that a lot of the scientists at the lab come from off-world.”

Wrecker grinned. “Tech sure could pose as a scientist.”

In response, Dara dug into her pack, pulling out a white lab coat and a key card. “He could, but I don’t think this will fit him. Sorry.”

Crosshair’s eyes glittered almost admiringly before he remembered to scowl. “Now how did you manage to steal those, burk’yc?”

She glared back at him. “Some of us were actually doing our jobs last night. Obviously you weren’t paying very close attention.”

He leaned forward. “Is that what you were doing? Could’ve fooled me. Maybe I was too busy keeping an eye out for your sorry shebs during your pathetic flirting.”

“Whose keycard is that?” Tech interrupted. His nose was buried in his datapad, no doubt already preparing the programs necessary to dismantle the villa’s security.

Dara gave Crosshair one more angry squint before looking away. “Raab’s. I’ll say I work for him and that he sent me to get something important. I get in, get the rest of you in undetected, and then we rendezvous at the lab and take it from there.”

Everyone looked towards Hunter, waiting for his approval. Finally, the Sergeant nodded. “Okay. Let’s get to work.”

Next chapter

Tag List: @stardusthuntress @skellymom @megmegalodondon

[ghostchems]

restroom detour - cardinal copia x female!reader

you're out with your friends at the new local hot spot: the pinnacle lounge. a trip to find the bathroom has you stumbling into something not for your eyes.

notes: 2.1k word count, mdni! 18+! there be smut here. also i just love me some sweet cardi. ao3 link.

You and your friends were chattering away at the bar, drinks in hand. It had been a long work week and you were happy to be out with friends to blow off some steam. The Pinnacle Lounge had seemingly popped up overnight in your town and quickly gained a reputation for being a unique, good time. 

The moment you stepped in earlier that night, you could see why. There were people dressed as nuns and priests, some wearing shiny masks and suspenders, mixed in with those dressed for a night out. The color scheme for the bar was black and gold while the lights shifted from neon green to a bright purple as the night wore on.

The music thumps and you all bop long with it. At this point, you are feeling pretty good as you finish up your second drink. 

“I gotta pee!” You chirp cheerfully, giving everyone a small wave as you walk away. You set your empty glass down on the bar and take a look around.

“Fuck.”

You realize you have absolutely no idea where you are going. A few people bump into you as you make your way around the perimeter of the bar before you come upon a dark hallway. There is a door that looks like it has some kind of fancy “G” on it and you assume it’s the women’s bathroom.

The moment you open the door and step inside no less than ten eyes are on you. They were all wearing cloaks, concealing their entire bodies and were peering out of their hoods at you. It was dark enough in the room that you couldn’t see their faces. You finally take in your surroundings, the low glow of black candles lining the room, the smell of incense flooding your nostrils. Your gaze settles on the black altar in front of you and you draw in a gasp.

A naked woman is spread atop it, a pentagram drawn in blood on her stomach. A man was between her legs, his fingers digging into her hips as he glares at you, his mismatched eyes sending chills down your spine. His face was painted like a skull and he wore a black robe with gold details, his dark hair hanging in his face.

“Uh…uh…sorry!” Your voice sounds incredibly high-pitched as you back out of the room.

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as you slam the door shut behind you, your feet carrying you towards the end of the hall. A man exits one of the other doors, stepping out right in front of you and you collide with a thud. For the brief second you are touching, you can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Eh, mi dispiace, mi dispiace.” He mumbles, his hands moving to grip your arms to help you catch your balance.

You look up at him and the first thing you notice are his eyes – the same ones that you had seen in the room. A jolt of fear causes you to jump back from him and he releases your arms, his eyes widening. He is wearing a cassock and biretta and his dark paint around his eyes were somewhat smudged.

“Are you alright, cara?” Copia sounds genuinely concerned, his accent thick as he reaches his hand out to you. You stare at it for a moment then you take another step back. 

“T-there are people in one of the rooms doing weird stuff.” The words spill out of your mouth, your brain too rattled to describe exactly what you saw.

“Ah, yes… the ritual.” He sighs softly, sounding almost annoyed. “No need to be afraid, cara. They are just, eh, partaking in carnal pleasures.”

“But-but the candles and the cloaks and the blood!” 

“How can I explain this to you?” Copia ponders aloud, his white eye glowing in the darkness. He looks around the hallway, his gaze settling on a bench against the back wall of the hallway. “Come.” His hand finds yours, pulling at it gently as he moves toward the bench. You realize he is wearing leather gloves, your eyes falling to the one in your hand, noticing the “G” symbol on it.

You wobble after him, your platform boots clunking as you pull your dress down with your free hand. He settles on the bench, carefully pulling you close to him as your knees touch. His hand still held yours, his thumb brushing it as his free hand removed his biretta. Brown hair spills out from underneath and he smooths it neatly back. His eyes were soft, contrasting with the sharpness of his nose and his dramatic eye paint.

“So, you’ve seen the inverted crosses around the bar, correct?

“Y-yes.”

“Good. I am a member of the clergy that owns and operates this bar. It is meant as a safe space for everyone to come, have fun, be themselves and… partake in sin.” His lips curl into a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. You feel a blush creep up your cheeks.

“But not in a harmful way. The ritual you walked in on is very safe, very controlled. It is meant to represent, eh, the procreation of the antichrist.”

You stare at him dumbly, feeling that you are too drunk for this conversation. Copia smiles warmly at you, letting go of your hand and bringing his up to your cheek to caress it gently. “The things  you saw that frightened you are merely decoration to help establish the mood. It’s meant to be fun; it’s meant to be dramatic… it’s meant to be erotic.” 

You can feel heat start to rise between your legs by his words, causing you to squeeze your thighs together. Of course, he notices, and drops his finger to your chin, tilting your head up to look him in the eyes. Your lips part as you shiver from his touch, your wide eyes meeting his duochromatic gaze. 

“Does this make you feel better about what you saw, dolce?” He purrs, inching his face even closer to yours. His smile has turned from sweet to seductive, his eyes shining mischievously. You can only bring yourself to nod and your nose brushes against his as you do so. A shuddered breath leaves your lips as you find your hands find his chest.

Copia takes this as his opening and presses his lips to yours tenderly. You can taste the alcohol on his soft lips, your hands traveling up his chest to the back of his neck. He sighs against you, deepening the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth as he pulls you in close. His hands start to wander down your sides, settling on your ass before he slips them under your dress. 

You moan softly as he starts to massage it, the feeling of his leather gloves on your sensitive skin sending shivers down your spine. His teeth tug at your bottom lip as he pulls away from you, giving you ass one last squeeze as his fingers drift to pull your dress down for you. Copia then grabs your legs and pulls them into his lap.

He is paying so much attention to you, despite the silence between you both. It’s a comfortable silence as he caresses your legs (and you are mentally patting yourself on the back for shaving them that day). The fear of the ritual you had witnessed is completely gone now, your mind and body at ease as you settle into Copia’s lap.

This was not how you thought your night was going to go but you are not complaining. This was the most you’ve been touched by someone in a long time, having given up on dating a while ago and you weren’t typically one to put yourself out there like this. Something about him, the way he gazed at you, the way he cared enough to explain away what you had seen… 

His fingers start to drift to your inner thighs, drawing small circles as they continue to move up. You swallow thickly, wide eyes looking back at him as your cheeks flush. Your legs spread ever so slightly, allowing him to continue further up your thigh. 

“Is this okay, dolce?” Copia whispers, brushing his fingers even higher. Your face is completely flushed now, the closer he gets to your cunt the more wet it becomes. There is some nervousness buzzing around in the back of your head – despite being hidden by the darkness of the hallways, you were still in a public place. But again… this bar was owned and operated by a satanic organization…

“Yes…please.” 

He pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers dipping into your wet folds. Copia hums in approval, then presses one his fingers against your entrance. You shudder, grabbing on to his cassock and pulling him close. His nose brushes against your cheek before settling his face in your neck, breathing you in deeply. 

“Such a naughty girl.” He growls against you, his finger curling upward, finding that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you. Your hips buck at the feeling, squeezing your lips shut as a moan bumbles up your throat. You feel him chuckle against your neck then presses a kiss to it as he slips another finger inside.

He starts to kiss, bite and suck at your neck, and by now you are feeling drunk off of him. You can tell by how roughly he’s moving his mouth on your neck that he’s leaving marks all over you. Your lips are quivering now, trying desperately to hold in your sounds which is all but impossible now as he adds a third finger. 

Copia pumps his fingers in and out of you, quickening his pace as he relentlessly presses into your bundle of nerves. Your entire body is trembling, your hips jerking wildly against his fingers. At this point, you’re over being discreet as breathy moans spill from your lips. 

Your hands move to grip at his shoulders, nails digging into them as you squeeze your eyes shut. He’s growling against you now and you can feel the vibration rumble of them down through your chest. Your muscles start to spasm and tense as the rest of your body trembles, a sharp cry rising from your lungs as your orgasm falls over you.

Your chest heaves as you start to come down from the high, feeling even more hazy than before. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, hovering there for a moment as you feel his warm breath on you before he pulls away. “I am very glad we ran into each other tonight, dolce.” He purrs, bringing his fingers up to taste them. You’re still recovering as your mouth drops open, watching him. “Ehm… why did you walk into that room in the first place?”

“Oh, well…” You feel a pang of embarrassment in your chest as you chuckle quietly. “I was looking for the bathroom.” 

He breaks out into a brilliant, toothy smile. “Tesoro, it’s right behind you — eh, if you still have to go.” 

“I probably should now.” You grin as you swing your legs off of his lap, your boots clunking to the floor. He pulls your dress down for you as you stand and you can feel yourself start to blush again. “Thank you.” You squeak before scurrying to the bathroom. 

Once inside, you do your business while your mind is exploding, thinking about what just happened. What did just happen? You got finger fucked by a stranger in a bar after witnessing a satanic ritual simulating the procreation of the antichrist. Maybe this was a typical Friday night for The Pinnacle Lounge.

Your legs are still trembling from the intensity of the orgasm, wobbling as you make your way to the mirror. There are very obvious red marks all along your neck as well as some black smudges from his eye paint. You think about trying to wipe some of it off, or at least try to make some of the marks less noticeable for a second before you decide… fuck it.

As you wash your hands, you start to panic, thinking that maybe he won’t be out there waiting for you. It wouldn’t be the end of the world but — you really wanted him to be there. There was something about him that just drew you to him. Again, your mind turns back to how sweet he was with you and how handsome he was.

When you leave the bathroom, he is standing near the bench, waiting for you. He looks like he is almost nervous, his cheeks flushed as he turns his biretta over in his hands.

“Dolce, I’ve realized we have, ehm, kind of done things a bit backwards tonight.” His lips twitch into a small smile, reaching for your hand. You immediately place your hand in his and he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’m Cardinal Copia… ehm, will you allow me to buy you a drink?”

[kisses-from-crows]

Crossed Wires - Campbell Bain

Pairing: Radio Host!Campbell Bain/Popstar!Reader (she/her)

Summary: after butting heads during an ill-fated interview for her debut album, Y/N and Campbell become professionally linked against their wills.

word count: 907

genre: enemies to lovers, modern au, reader insert, forced proximity, misunderstandings

cw: nothing yet, will let you know if that changes!

Chapter 1

Next

-TMZ: Breaking News! Long lost pop princess F/N L/N has been spotted outside her apartment in New York for the first time in over a year. A comeback may be just around the corner, a source close to L/N reports. Posted: 4 min ago -

“Good god, just when I thought I was rid of the wretch” Campbell groaned. He tossed his phone on the desk and leaned back in his desk chair. Y/N… to say he hadn’t thought about her in a year would be a lie. He might have hated her music but god no one could keep up with his banter like she could. In the time it took most people to make out his accent she was already firing back some witty response.

Their first meeting had been years ago. Back when he was still a full-time intern and part-time radio host on the graveyard shift. Y/N was days away from releasing her debut album, both of them unknowingly teetering right on the edge of overnight stardom.

The station gave him an interview with the singer as a fluff piece and he was determined to make the best of it. At the time the rumor was she’d only secured the spot after catching the eye of some studio executive’s son. Y/N’s lead single was charting well but Campbell guessed she would likely be another one hit wonder, destined to fade into obscurity. He’d been given an advance copy of the album and nearly fell asleep listening to it. The production was predictable and flat, the lyrics were repetitive and meaningless, and the vocals were… well the vocals were quite good but he’d never admit that out loud.

All Campbell needed was a good old publicity stunt and he was on his way to securing his own show. Determined to expose this clear industry plant, Campbell put Y/N in the hot seat and his tongue ran away with him. He endlessly grilled her about her new album and the flaws he found in her character because of it. Much to his surprise, she didn’t falter. She matched him for every hit, striking back quicker and harder each time. He found the exchange utterly thrilling. Scratching a particularly manic part of his brain, the part that loathed idleness and people who talked too slowly. So they verbally went for each other’s throats for the next half an hour. Exchanging cleverly harsh witticisms like a game of battleship. Which is to say by firing blindly and seeing what landed a blow then concentrating all your attention there. By the time the radio station techs told them time was up, a part of Campbell was bit sad to see her go. Never one to keep a thought to himself, stood up to tell her so. She, however, tossed her headset on the desk with a huff.

Y/N muttered a quick “Fucking finally” under her breath, before marching out of the studio without another word. It was in that moment that Campbell decided he had been absolutely right about Y/N. She was shallow and vain. A hollow figurehead for everything wrong with the music industry. She had no passion for the art, and it was insulting. The assumption that he would likely never see her again gave some comfort to his wounded ego.

But fate could never be so kind, he should have known that. Their careers and destinies were now undeniably linked. As the he stared up at the ceiling of his too small and too expensive New York apartment, the seemingly meaningless late night radio interview Campbell wanted to forget spread like wildfire. Those that despised Y/N’s music took Campbell’s word as gospel, bashing her music and praising his superior taste. Fans of Y/N rallied behind her and praised her composure. But the part of the interview neither side could get off their mind, was the heated chemistry between the pair.

Within 48 hours, both of their timelines were filled with half-baked think pieces and edits of themselves. It was all surreal really, watching strangers on the internet discuss you like you aren’t real.

Campbell’s stunt pulled in more attention for the station than they’d had since the dot com boom. Viewers fell in love with his unique voice and frantic energy, demanding Campbell get more airtime until the studio was forced to give him his own show. And the controversy surrounding Y/N’s debut caused it to rocket to the top the charts, trending in the top 10 for weeks.

But that was years ago. Almost seven now, to be exact. After that first interview, all anyone can wanted was a repeat performance. A chance to see the two quick-tongued hot heads in another cage match. That TMZ leak was a warning. Campbell laid in the dark and prayed that the call he knew was coming would miraculously never come. He fiddled with his New York Giants cap and wondered why he ever came to this town in the first place. Ah, yes, the unrelenting blind optimism that had gotten him so far.

As his phone lit up the black of his room, he knew it had failed him once again. Campbell almost let the damn thing go to voicemail. On the cracked screen of his old beat up phone was a call from a contact labelled: ITS THE DEVIL’S HENCHMAN DINNAE ANSWER IT.

So Campbell accepted the call.

“How would you like the exclusive interview for F/N L/N’s comeback album?”

_________________________________________________

Next Chapter

a/n: ahh so this is first fanfic i’ve ever written. i have an idea of where i want this to go so if people are into it i’d be happy to keep updating it. this chapter was mainly to establish some background info. anyway thank you for reading!!! love you!

[asimplearchivist]

𝓒𝓗. 𝓥𝓘 — [𓎿𓇋𓇋𓏏] (‘𝓗𝓼𝔂𝓽’ | 𝓯𝓪𝓿𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓭)

𝐂𝐇. 𝐕𝐈 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐊𝐄𝐏𝐓.

[𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽] [ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 ] AO3 | SPOTIFY | PINTEREST summary ☾ ⤏ khonshu indulges you. (only because you annoy him, of course—not for any other reason.) pairing ☽ khonshu/singlemom!avatar!reader word count ☾ 6.3k a/n ☽ [header credit] ⤏ this took far longer than it should have to churn this out, but writer’s block is a bitch and my muse is nothing if capricious. I swear I’m still working on this fic little by little, but it’s mostly in the later parts. hopefully the plot will start to progress a little faster now that we’re out of the first year. (I don’t know how this ended up being a christmas/new year’s chapter, but…here we are. it’s a little early but c’est la vie—happy holidays to those who celebrate!) ☽ MASTERPOST ☾ ☾ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ⤎ ☥ ⤏ NEXT CHAPTER ☽

The holidays were in full swing as winter snuck into London like a thief. Seemingly overnight, decorations crept up like invasive vegetation to suffocate the city in green, red, and white decorations. Khonshu was bemused by the practice, if nothing else—but what about humanity didn’t perplex him?

True to your word, your schedule grew more complicated as the air grew colder. You were running more tired than ever before, and he did his best to direct you to wrongdoers who wouldn’t put up much of a challenge to your ever-improving skills and reflexes. You’d grown quite adept at defending yourself by then, relying more on instinct than memorization. The local police stations were abuzz with the new active vigilante roaming around at night, and the newspapers were referring to you as impossibly foolish names.

In what world did ‘The Mooner’ seem like an apt title?

You found it amusing, if nothing else, watching the evening news with Lizzie and casting Khonshu a smirk while he brooded in the corner whenever a small blurb would pop up about the latest criminals you’d apprehended—you’d remarked to him once that you wondered if the attention would get you an invitation to join the Avengers…or at least get an introduction.

“That Thor guy would probably get a kick out of you still hanging around, huh?” you’d teased. “Did you guys used to be drinking buddies back in the day?”

“The Asgardians are reveling warriors fattened on their successes,” he’d responded dryly. “You would appreciate their laxness as much as their debauchery.”

“Sounds like someone never got invited to the pantheon orgies. You’re just jealous of the Fabio hair, aren’t you? I bet he doesn’t even use any product, what with all his…divine genetics, or whatever.”

Khonshu was not jealous of another god, only of your attentions. He had to admit that to himself, now, because it was becoming unignorable.

He could scarcely stand to separate himself from you anymore, too addicted to your presence to stray very far, even in the daylight hours. It was difficult to maintain his vigil over the opposite side of the world when it was plunged into night, but he managed it. It wasn’t as if you could patrol the entire earth to apprehend every last wrongdoer, anyway—not with Ru becoming more active with every passing week.

The boy was nearing half a year old, and he was more vocal than ever. Khonshu was bemused by the litany of squealing and babbling that you treated as full conversations, speaking to him as if he understood completely. Khonshu had grown more accustomed to handling him, as well, even if the babe did everything in his limited power to shove the god’s fingers into his investigative mouth. He found it more amusing than annoying, although he did try to keep an eye on the boy while he exercised in ‘tummy time’ just to make sure he didn’t ingest something that would harm him.

Even though you hadn’t informed Khonshu of such, it seemed that the ‘Christmas spirit’ had infected you thoroughly. You’d been brimming with excitement, shopping in your off-time for decor, special groceries, and gifts in preparation for the momentous holiday. The television stayed on most of the day, playing those horrendous, formulaic romantic comedies that made him want to gag at their saccharine plot lines and mediocre acting, and in the evenings the radio crooned songs older than you (they were far more tolerable, much to his relief). You cooked and baked almost constantly, pleasant aromas saturating the rooms with sweet and hearty spices. The apartment was soon littered with festive memorabilia, and before he knew it there was a live tree set up in the corner of the living room.

“Come on, Big Bird—dealing with humans all these years hasn’t clued you into Christmas?”

Considering the contentious and hypocritical origins of the holiday, I haven’t given it too much consideration, he said wryly. There are so many different ones now that I don’t bother to keep up.

“You’re missing out,” you beamed up at him through the branches, glittering red garland wrapped around your arms as you wedged yourself between the boughs and the wall to reach the back of the tree. “There are so many good foods and family traditions and old memories that go with it!”

It is mass-marketed and materialistic, he responded, reaching out with the end of his staff to free you from entanglement.

“If you let it be just about presents, then it is,” you told him sternly, wiggling free and adjusting the strand to your satisfaction before repeating the process in a tapered spiral. “But it’s about connection, to me—friends and family being together and enjoying the festivities.”

Then why are you not with your family? Khonshu questioned before he could think it through.

You paused, expression pinching, but continued to futz with the arrangement. “…I couldn’t get everything together,” you replied quietly, “what with the shift schedules and all that. They’ll understand. We can try again next year.”

It was none of Khonshu’s business, he knew. Normally he wouldn’t rightly care about the inherent complexities of your interactions with your family—but only if he hadn’t known you for as long as he had, even if you were still unaware of it. He had witnessed your life change irreparably in the last year, had even lended a hand in it. A brief brush over your consciousness confirmed his suspicions—the shame of your self-perceived failures overpowered the guilt of not meeting their expectations. You hadn’t gone home since the divorce, and you had barely afforded them the occasional phone call to assure them that you (and Ru) were doing all right despite your circumstances. They had only seen Ru through a camera.

In some (somewhat selfish) ways, Khonshu was glad that you had remained fixed in London, remaining with Lizzie. It meant that he wouldn’t risk losing you as his Moon Knight prematurely. It meant that he didn’t have to share the pair of you with anyone other than your best friend and your coworkers. It meant that he could have you (mostly) to himself—and he was uncertain of what you would think of that.

Ru is still very young, he said finally, lowering his voice and glancing towards the child sprawled on the floor mat asleep.

“…Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, expression easing slightly. “It wouldn’t really be good for him to fly right now, anyway. It’ll be easier when he’s a little older.”

Khonshu nodded, and you fastened the end of the garland near the tip of the tree. You can barely reach the top.

“Which is precisely why serving a nine-foot eldritch horror is so advantageous,” you remarked, stepping over to the couch and rummaging through the assortment of boxes you had pulled out of storage for this express purpose. You turned back to him brandishing a diaphanous, crystalline star cradled in your hands. You smiled sweetly. “Would you do the honors?”

You are insufferable, Khonshu grumbled, plucking the ornament out of your hands and extending his arm to place it on the uppermost point. There. Happy?

You squinted and tilted your head slightly. “It’s a little lopsided.” You waved your hand to one side. “Just a little to the left.”

Khonshu readjusted it.

“Better. Thank you!” you chirped, grabbing a bundle of lights that looked tangled worse than Apep’s tail used to after the barque’s guardians got through with him at the end of the night. “Can you help me with the lights, too?”

Ru stirred and grumbled at the most opportune moment. 

Khonshu scooped him up from the floor and tucked him into the crook of his arm. He’s hungry.

You frowned at him. “How do you even know?”

His forehead wrinkled, Khonshu responded simply, moving over to the kitchen to fetch a bottle from the fridge.

“I’m trying to let him cry a little more,” you complained to the god’s back. “You’re not supposed to cater to them too much, you know.”

And you’re taking aspirin to combat the headaches it causes. Khonshu popped the nipple into the babe’s mouth before Ru even fully realized what was going on—but his body relaxing as his contented hums filled the relative silence of the apartment were confirmation enough. Khonshu didn’t feel he should tell you that he had felt Ru’s stomach pangs even before he’d awoken. Continue your decorating. I’ll tend to him.

“You’ve been doing that a lot more recently,” you pointed out, bemused. “Are you trying to weasel your way into being his favorite?”

Khonshu shook his head and sat on the narrow expanse of the couch that was not occupied by your collection of shiny bobbles. No need to ‘weasel’ my way in when I already am his favorite.

“Keep that up and I’ll have to kick you out, Granddaddy Long Beak—then what’ll you do?”

Enjoy the blissful peace and quiet.

You flung a chromatic red sphere at him. It bounced harmlessly off his arm and rolled onto the rug. “All the things I do for you and this is the thanks I get.”

I am keeping my end of our agreement, he reminded you, propping Ru up briefly to emphasize his point, so we are even.

“You’re turning my own son against me.”

I am doing no such thing.

“Look at him. He never looks that happy when I feed him.”

Perhaps he prefers my methods.

“God, you’d think you were his father,” you grumbled.

Khonshu stiffened, but you continued to gather ornaments to hang on the tree, completely oblivious to the fact that he had been perfectly capable of hearing you.

True to his word, he gave you ample space to celebrate your holiday. 

He spent the time that he would normally occupy directing you under the moonlight tending to the things that he had been neglecting. He patrolled the areas, groups, and individuals he had previously been keeping an eye on to glean updates on the potential threats they could pose in the future. He returned to the temples, sanctuaries, and shrines dedicated to him that he hadn’t seen in weeks. He visited the few followers that still prayed to him to make sure they were doing well.

It was a remarkably quiet, lonely affair.

He found that he…missed your company more than he’d anticipated—and he’d left you and Ru only a handful of hours prior when Lizzie had returned home from work. You’d been dressed in an atrociously ugly sweater that Khonshu could only imagine itched like an infestation of lice, flitting about the kitchen preparing your evening meal while singing along to the music blasting from your phone. Your eyes had been sparkling, a smile tugging at your mouth even while you weren’t speaking or focusing on him entertaining Ru in the living room. The child-like delight feeding your enthusiasm was…infectious, admittedly. He’d almost gotten one of the songs stuck in his head.

He couldn’t force the sight of you out of his head—he hadn’t seen you that happy in months…since you’d given birth to Ru, really. Your joy was a precious, ethereal thing that he cherished, having the privilege to witness it firsthand.

That man truly didn’t know what priceless treasure he’d discarded so uncaringly.

Khonshu considered himself lucky that you allowed him so close, that you treated him kindly despite his shortcomings, that you made room for him in your comparatively inconsequential, fleeting life that would end in a blink when he would persist for centuries afterward…that you, without question, gave him a place to participate in Badru’s life when he had offered it.

Would you still be so open if you knew his total truth? Or would you reject him and leave him to wander aimlessly, isolated, on his nightly, restless vigil once more?

…Khonshu did not want to taint the secondhand fulfillment that coursed through him via his connection to you with his tortuous ruminations. The warm, tingly feelings that had bubbled up inside of you all day almost satisfied his hunger, and he was basking in the relief it brought.

Well after midnight he decided to check on you—only because he had seen Lizzie pull out a bottle of wine and he wanted to ensure that you hadn’t overdone it, of course. While the pair of you were far more responsible than other people your age, he wanted to make sure that the boy wasn’t giving you any trouble.

Khonshu slipped into the mortal plane as surreptitiously as he could manage, easing into the shadows of the apartment once more and taking in the state of the living room.

All the lights were turned off save the strands decorating the tree, glowing a soft amber against the wall and floor. You and Lizzie were laying adjacent to each other on the couch—you propped up with numerous pillows to afford Ru proper elevation on your chest, whereas Lizzie’s head dangled off the armrest—with blankets piled over yourselves. Dirty mugs and plates littered the coffee table, and there were three gifts already unwrapped—one for each of you.

Khonshu eased closer, moving silently across the floor with the music still playing quietly from the speakers helping to muffle the susurration of his gauze wrappings. He loomed over your end of the couch, peering down the length of his beak at the serenity of your face in the warm lighting. He clenched his fist to resist the urge to brush the backs of his fingers along the supple curve of your cheek—he didn’t want to risk waking you.

Ru stirred and grunted a little, and even in your sleep your hand smoothed over his back to soothe him. The babe settled, stilled, and snuffled in contentment.

Khonshu dismissed the odd, liquefying feeling in his chest in favor of easing back. He was about to step back into the astral realm when his eye caught on the television stand next to the tree. A glass of milk and a plate of cookies set on the corner. It seemed wasteful to him, but Khonshu still mosied over to inspect the arrangement.

White chocolate and macadamia, he surmised, based on the confections’ appearance. Khonshu glanced at you again over his shoulder, fingers tightening around his staff. You and the child remained motionless and oblivious to his presence.

He let out a soft sigh, shoulders relaxing, and tentatively reached out to the plate.

“Did you enjoy the cookies?”

Khonshu readjusted his grip on his staff. What are you talking about?

“If you’d wanted to play it off like Santa came and ate them, you didn’t need to take all of them. You’re supposed to leave one with a bite out of it.”

The god of the moon twisted to parry your quick swipe at his flank. The blow reverberated through the ancient, enchanted wood up into his arms. He absorbed it without trouble, but he did shuffle half a step back to pull himself from your range. Elizabeth ate them.

You laughed, then, a cheery, chirping sound that sang in his hollow skull. “She’s allergic to macadamia nuts, genius!”

He retaliated with a low sweep, aiming for your knees. You leapt, pulled them up, and landed within your arm’s length of him. You lunged for his exposed abdomen, and he almost failed to block it in time.

You’re allowing yourself to get distracted, he gruffed, shoving you back to give himself some room. Concentrate.

“I’m just trying to hold a conversation and you’re being defensive,” you grinned, dancing effortlessly around his thrust to smack the flat of your khopesh against his extended forearm. “If you’ll answer my question, I’ll stop talking.”

You are supposed to be proving that you’re capable of being taught higher combat, he groused, finally managing to thump your shoulder with the haft. Not interrogating me about an accused petty thievery.

You grunted and dropped quickly to launch yourself at his leg. He knocked you away, sending you sprawling onto the rooftop with a groan. He drove the end of the staff down towards your armored chest, but you rolled to the side and scrambled onto your feet to face him.

You were hardly winded despite the fact that he’d been pushing your limits for the better part of ten minutes—it was a marked improvement compared to when you had first started, to say the very least. He would never admit to you, much less out loud, but he was pleased with your progress. He was…proud of how far you’d come. Soon he would have no more additional skills and techniques to offer you, as you’d taken them all in stride in spite of your initial struggles with fighting in general.

You still had room to surprise him, however—much to the delight of the small part of him that enjoyed engaging you in such a physical manner.

In a quick motion you flung one of the khopeshes directly at him. He deflected it easily, but you were light on your feet and reached him before he could react. You sliced fiercely at his hands, causing him to raise his staff over your head, then pressed the end of the blade to the polished crescent ornamenting his chest.

“Checkmate?” you inquired, the pectoral rising and falling upon your torso as your breath billowed out in plumes of mist shortly stolen by the wind.

You’d forgone the mask to enjoy the brisk night air but had the hood drawn over your head, and your skin was glimmering in the moonlight with a fine sheen of sweat. Your complexion was darkened with the exertion—a far more becoming look on you that he could ever allow himself to entertain.

His…interest in you was growing out of hand—yet he could not bring himself to stifle it, for he enjoyed it far beyond what would ever be considered appropriate for a deity of his standing and background.

But how could he think you appeared anything but breathtaking while wearing his armor, brandishing his weapons, bathed in his mercurial, sacred light like you had been handcrafted by artisans from its silvery beams?

Yes, he acquiesced, leaning back and bracing himself once he returned the staff upright. You’ve improved. I’ll show you more of a challenge next time, since you’re confident.

Your eyes lit up with your smile, and his fingers bit into the grain. “I think I might be close to having you beat, Big Bird. You’re moving awfully slow tonight—is the cold getting to those old, creaky bones?”

He cuffed you around the ear and you chuckled, slapping at his hand. You covered much ground tonight. I think you are owed some rest.

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me whether you liked my cookies or not.” You propped your hands on your hips, canting them to one side as you tilted your head. “Yes or no?”

You are fortunate that I possess as much patience as I do, he rumbled, turning and walking over to the edge of the roof. Else I would have been rid of you months ago.

“Blah, blah, blah, you’re secretly a big softy and can’t admit to it, whatever—I need to know so I can adjust the recipe or not, smartass, or to try something different altogether.”

Khonshu paused, turning his head to gaze at you out of the corner of his periphery. You intend on inundating me with baked goods to relax my expectations?

“I am trying to be nice and to return the favor for some of the things you’ve done for me,” you corrected him, pouting all the while. “Consider it an…offering, of sorts, I guess. I’m not really the ‘candles and incense’ type of person.” You shrugged. “I figured there’s not a whole lot else I could possibly offer you in gratitude, given that…you know, you probably have everything you've ever wanted, being a god and all.”

If only you knew.

Khonshu let out a long, heavy sigh. …Yes.

You raised a brow “‘Yes,’ you have everything you’ve ever wanted?”

Yes, he gritted out, the cookies were…sufficient.

“Only ‘sufficient’?” you questioned dubiously. “Jeez. Did I oversalt them or something, or do you just not like white chocolate? Should I try oatmeal raisin next time or—”

For the love of…I enjoyed them. They tasted fine. You are not required to repeat the venture at your expense.

“But I like baking,” you returned, but you were smiling again. “...Now are you going to tell me how in the hell you eat or are you just lying to me to get me to shut up?”

Khonshu uttered a string of Kemetic before dropping his head and retreating to the astral realm, snapping his fingers to send you back to your bedroom. Your laughter echoed around him in the brimming, exponential space.

“You could always go with me, you know.”

Khonshu would have frowned at you if he could have. What?

You gestured to him with your makeup brush, his form contorted to sit on the closed toilet next to you. He still loomed over you. “You’re pouting. All you have to do is ask if you want to go with me.”

What makes you think I would want to participate in your superfluous little party? he sneered, his skin prickling uncomfortably beneath his bandages.

You shrugged. “Call it a hunch. You’ve been glued to my side all evening. I don’t think you were even looking for a free show.”

Khonshu had to admit you were correct on that front, at least. As soon as you’d emerged from your shower to rummage through your closet for your chosen outfit, he’d materialized to sit on the foot of your bed. He’d followed you right into the bathroom to observe your ritualistic motions—he’d watch the application of liquids and powders until you appeared a veritable goddess trapped in mortal form. You could have given Hathor a run for her money tonight, as delicately and precisely you’d decorated your face, eyes, and mouth, accentuating the uniqueness of your features rather than obscuring them.

You were a vision, truly. If he weren’t so irreverent, he would almost have felt unworthy to behold you—but he was not a generous deity by any stretch of the imagination.

“You don’t have to,” you said finally, voice low as you applied the finishing touches. “I was mostly teasing. I know you’ll probably head out in a bit to handle your other business, or…whatever you do on nights like this. Do you have a temple that you go chill in when you’re clocked out?”

The majority of my temples lay in ruins or are inundated with tourists, he responded dryly. There would be little use in going now.

You paused, setting aside the last products and peering at him. “So…do you not have anywhere to go? At all?”

Khonshu shifted, pulling his knee up to brace his arm. He struggled to formulate a response, laid bare by your sympathetic eyes.

“Remember, love, you’ll need to be out the door in ten if you want to catch the bus!” Lizzie called, voice muffled by the walls.

“I remember,” you returned out of the cracked doorway, glancing down at the plethora of brushes and tubes littering the bathroom counter, most of them virtually untouched. “I’m almost done!”

Khonshu watched you gather it all together in the zip bag, somehow organizing it to where it all fit. He was certain that it was witchcraft.

“…I haven’t been able to attend this in a while,” you admitted, drawing his attention back up to your face—too somber now for so stunning an appearance. “My, uh…Ru’s father didn’t like me going.”

Khonshu fell deathly still. You had never once mentioned your ex-husband to him directly—in all your conversations, you’d avoided discussing your life prior to officially meeting Khonshu like a plague. Quiet rage flared low in his belly at the recollection of the neket-iadet.

Why? he inquired evenly, his voice lower than he had intended.

You shivered lightly and reached for a nearly-full bottle of perfume on your vanity. “You remember Gideon?”

How could he not? I do.

“Well, Ru’s father met him the first year I worked at the hospital. He thought that Gideon was making passes at me, which was not true—he still had his wife then, and he’s a very loyal man by nature.” Your face pinched, but you shook your head. “Ru’s father didn’t let me go after that.”

…I see, Khonshu rumbled.

“It’s a little bit of poetic justice that Gideon invited me to come this year,” you continued quietly, spritzing the fragrance on your neck and wrists. You set the bottle down with a clink and rubbed the oils into your skin—the scent pervaded the small bathroom, and Khonshu almost felt dizzy with it. “He does better with a social buffer, and so do I. I think we’ll both be a bit more comfortable having a friend we can fall back on.”

A…friend. You only referred to the gentleman as a friend.

The tension in Khonshu’s shoulders eased.

You tweaked your hair one last time and stepped back to give yourself a lingering once-over in the mirror, turning this way and that. You gave your reflection a tentative smile.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” you commented. At Khonshu’s extended silence, watching you wordlessly, you turned to him and raised a brow. “You could at least tell me I look pretty,” you pouted, fluttering your accented lashes up at him. “Since I went to all this effort.”

He harrumphed.

Your dress—crushed blue velvet so dark it looked black until light struck it—draped over your frame like an inkspill, just short of pooling at your ankles. Lizzie allowed you to borrow her sleek silver stilettos and her faux fur coat, reminiscent of some fuzzy arctic creature he’d seen in passing. You looked much different than you had a year prior—the highlights of gleaming midnight emphasized the muscles that his nightly work had slowly but surely built into your body with your every subtle shift and movement.

You look… He hesitated, and you tipped your head forward expectantly. …beautiful. You are beautiful.

Your mouth dropped open.

“Hey, love—the bus is heading up this way! You better beat it down there!”

You glanced between him and the doorway, torn, but ultimately bit the inside of your cheek, grabbed your clutch off the counter, and bustled out of the bathroom. Khonshu slipped into the metaphysical plane, trailing you as his fingers drummed along the hilt of his staff.

Lizzie whistled when you emerged from the hallway, fanning herself. “That doctor sure has missed his catch!” she crooned, circling a finger at you to turn with an approving hum. “You look delicious!”

You chuckled a little, still a bit flustered. “You don’t think it’s a bit much? Some of them might still be wearing scrubs if they just got off their shifts.”

“Not at all!” She flashed you a cheeky grin. “Tell me you’re wearing that lacy black set you thought you snuck by me last week.”

“Stop,” you laughed apprehensively, waving your free hand in front of your face. You’d even gone to the effort to have your nails done, and Khonshu thought that the accent complimented the dress quite nicely. “You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“If I didn’t already know you’re not seeing anyone, I’d be wondering who else is going tonight, love,” she grinned, then began to herd you out of the door. “Go on, shoo! You don’t want me to have to chauffeur you in my old lemon of a vehicle!”

“Yes, ma’am,” you responded mirthfully. “I’ll text you! Let me know if you need anything or if Ru gives you trouble!”

“You’d better!” she returned. “And we’ll be fine!”

Khonshu watched the ginger shut and lock the door behind you, then blinked away before she turned.

“Are you sure you don’t want to cut the rug a little? The night’s still young!”

“You’ve hardly smiled all night, like you’re miserable all by your lonesome. Do you want me to get you another drink so you can loosen up some?”

“You look absolutely dreadful, clinging to the corner like a little wallflower—it’s a waste of that outfit! You ought to go hunt down one of those strapping blokes from the ER!”

“No, thank you,” you responded with a thin smile, watching the disappointment flit across your coworkers’ faces, “I’m good. Trying to let the food settle.”

“Suit yourself,” said the lead sonographer with a sigh, and the other two nurses followed her as they wandered back into the fray.

The gentleman had failed to show. You’d been halfway through your meal when he’d finally texted you, something about his daughter falling ill. You sent him and her your well wishes, but you had visibly retreated at that point and had been lingering to the side ever since, glancing at your watch more frequently than would ever normally be justified.

Khonshu loomed in the rafters of the convention center, legs dangling off the beam as he watched you carefully. That trio was not the only people from your shift that had tried to convince you to go join the rest of the dancers in the center of the ballroom, music thrumming through the gargantuan space under the cacophony of idle chatter, raucous laughter, and off-key singing. Despite the throngs of medical and administrative professionals crowding around you, you still looked remarkably isolated.

…He really shouldn’t. He knew better. It was the very thing that had been plaguing him since you nearly caught him playing with Ru that first time. The last thing he needed was to repulse you.

He ought to conduct himself with utmost decorum—he was the god of the night sky. He shouldn’t fall prey to the superfluous whimsies of his idle fantasies. He was more than that, more than the base, instinctual urges that had been pelting his greater consciousness. He was a being driven solely by justice, motivated by the cries from travelers in the night in need of assistance, and vengeance was his creed.

He had enough self control not to indulge in silly mortal pastimes—and in you, no less.

…That was until a man approached you, anyway.

Khonshu leaned over, casting his hearing down to you once again.

“Hey, you,” drawled the drunkard, sidling up to your position next to the drinks table and offering you a flute or something bubbly. “See you’re not having yourself a good time out there. Want to come have some fun with me?”

Khonshu bristled.

“Hey, Kyle,” you replied idly, twisting your wrist to look at your watch again. “Hitting the good stuff too hard again, I see.”

“You’re real pretty tonight, by the way. But I think—” The drunkard hiccuped. “—think that’d look a lot better on my bedroom floor, yeah? Want to test it?”

“Not particularly. I’d rather not a hundred pound dress not end up with a flea infestation.”

“Aw, that’s only a hundred pounds? You sure make it look like a Gucci!”

“God help me,” you muttered. You cast your eyes upward with a long-suffering sigh, rising to your feet. “Thank you, Kyle. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to be heading home—”

The drunkard’s reflexes were surprisingly fast for such a heavy level of intoxication, grabbing your wrist like that. “Come on, pretty, we’re just getting started!”

Khonshu saw red, and he blinked out of the rafters.

“Kyle,” you started slowly, glancing around to the people around you. None of them were in casual talking distance, so you’d have to shout to get anyone’s attention—and undue attention is something you were never inclined to draw upon yourself. “Let me go.”

“You’re just like everybody else,” he slurred, frowning as he sloshed in closer to drop his chin against his chest and gaze down at you with hazy eyes, “having a laugh and taking a piss at me. I’m trying to be all nice and you’re just being a bitch—”

You tugged your arm back in his grip, but his broad hands were difficult to dislodge. “If you don’t want something bad to happen,” you muttered to him urgently, “I’d suggest backing off. Now.”

“Don’t get violent with me, sweetheart,” he growled, face morphing into a scowl, “unless you want me to return the favor.”

“I’d suggest you reconsider that statement. Immediately. Let her go.”

You stiffened and contorted in the drunkard’s grip, turning your head to peer over your shoulder with rounded eyes and a gaping mouth.

Kyle was not so keen to receive the memo. “And who the hell are you?”

Khonshu narrowed his eyes and curled his hand around the drunkard’s wrist, his fingers overlapping the joint and dwarfing the extremity by comparison. “I am the one who will shatter every bone in your lardy body if you lay one more finger on her.” He offered him a grim, feral smile full of teeth just this side of uncanny. “You may call me your arbiter.”

Kyle released his grasp and Khonshu followed suit. The younger man appeared shaken, much to Khonshu’s satisfaction, as he crept back. “I think I’ll just—be going now, yeah? You two have a lovely night.”

“One more thing.”

He paused, eyes wide, if for nothing else than to cling to any chance of survival when faced with an alpha predator. “Y-yeah?”

“If you ever touch her again—or anyone else, for that matter—after you’ve drunk yourself into a stupor, I will personally hunt you down and see to it you no longer have a tongue to swallow it.”

Kyle melted into the crowd and disappeared with a whimper.

“What,” you started, “the fuck.”

Khonshu clenched his teeth and turned, pushing his shoulders back and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt sleeves as a distraction from the sheer disbelief on your face.

“You’re…” You gestured lamely towards him. “…you’re…”

“Your nebulous vocabulary fails you once again,” he said tightly, refusing to meet your gaze. “I cannot seem to leave you unattended for longer than a moment before you run into certain trouble. Were you going to allow him to abduct you or has all of my training gone to waste?”

“…Khonshu?” you ventured hesitantly.

“It is good that you remember my name, at least. Shall I return the gesture?”

“Stop! Just…stop,” you retorted with a hiss, glancing around to see that a couple of onlookers were gaping at him—whether his sudden appearance or his stature, however, he was uncertain. “Are you…actually here? They can see you?”

“‘In the flesh,’ as it were,” he answered lowly.

You regarded him for a long moment, contemplative, before sighing and shaking your head. “This is one of those things you’re not going to bother explaining to me, isn’t it? That you can just…shapeshift at will? You just choose to look like a Lovecraftian horror all the time?”

(It was certainly not by choice.) “It has yet to come up,” he said, casting a glare towards his observers. They flinched and returned to their prior engagements. “Why did you not strike him?”

“Because I’d rather not lose my job, thanks,” you told him flatly. “He’s one of the chairmen’s sons and gets a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants. Hitting him would only get me in trouble.”

Khonshu growled under his breath, pressing in closer to stare down at you. “He should face reparations for his actions. You are certainly not the first he’s attempted to coerce.”

You met his gaze, unflinching. “I’m not,” you said confidently, “but all I can do is report him. I can handle myself, Khonshu—I had it under control.”

He didn’t want to believe you, didn’t want to concede, but…you raised a fair point. You needn’t put your sole source of income in jeopardy because of another man’s privileges. Khonshu could deal with the issue later. Right now, you had folded your arms over your chest and were hiding the fact that there was a red mark on your wrist.

“Let me see,” he mumbled, holding out a palm.

You placed yours in his carefully, eyes never leaving his face as he passed the fingers of his free hand over the blooming bruise to heal it directly.

“The gall,” he growled. “The audacity.”

“Thank you for backing me up,” you said softly.

He glanced up at your expression to find it unguarded and…fond? “I could have eliminated him on the spot,” he reminded you stiffly.

“And I’m glad you didn’t take the overdramatic route—he was already close enough to pissing himself.” You tilted your head, gaze passing over his features and traveling down his form. “I wouldn’t have expected a white tux, but…it’s not too shabby.”

Khonshu shifted his weight from one foot to the other, dropping your hand. “I am…glad that it meets your satisfaction,” he grumbled.

“If I’d known you were hiding a handsome mug like this, I might’ve asked you to attend shit like this with me sooner,” you teased. “Scary guard dog privileges and all that fun stuff.”

He scoffed, neck burning, and turned to look out across the sea of people, folding his arms over his chest in lieu of fiddling with his staff.

“…While you’re here,” you began thoughtfully, slipping to his side and curling your fingers into the crisp linen of his suit coat, “would you…want to dance?”

“Indulge you even more than I have already?” he remarked.

You fell silent, and he looked back down at you. Pensiveness was far less attractive than mirth on your features. “You don’t have to,” you mumbled. “I’m just…happy you’re here.”

Khonshu hesitated. “…Would it?”

You frowned, raising a brow at him. “‘Would it,’ what?”

He swallowed. “Make you happy.”

Your face softened. “It would.”

The god of the moon resolutely offered you the bend of his arm, shoulders rigid. “Then I will allow it…just this once.”

Your smile was brighter than any star he’d ever seen.

[felicitysmoaksx]

For the advent calendar!

Sarah and Conner somehow ending up having to take care of a baby (maybe they have to care for a baby in the hospital? Maybe someone left one or both of them custody of a baby? They find an abandoned baby and care for it etc)

Hi! Thanks so much for this prompt. You already know this, but for everyone else reading: this prompt really got away from me! Oops. Please don't expect them all to be this long! Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy it and it loosely follows the Interlude: What If in my Voight Family Values series.

Sarah couldn’t put the baby down. The little girl that was born today, just after a four-car pileup had thrown an expecting mother into labor. The little girl was born at just thirty-five weeks. The little girl that she helped Natalie deliver. The little girl was now alone in the world because her mother had passed away in the ICU just moments ago because she had lost too much blood. 

Really, she blamed the two rugrats taking up residence in her stomach right now and had been for the last five months. They were the size of cucumbers now. She always had a soft heart but being pregnant had just made it ten times worse. (It would be five, but she and Connor were having twins so it was doubled.)  Sighing, she eased herself down into a chair gingerly all while of course, keeping hold of the baby in her arms.

That’s how Connor found her. Large warm hands rested on her shoulders and squeezed. Then she felt the scrape of his beard as his lips pressed against her forehead.  

“Nat told me what happened,” he whispered softly while his hand drifted to her swollen stomach. Her stomach had seemingly popped overnight a few weeks ago. There was no denying she was pregnant now whereas before she looked like she had just gained a little more weight. (And she was even bigger than normal at five months thanks to having twins.) “She said you seemed pretty attached to the baby you two delivered. And I’m guessing this is her because the nurses say you’ve been here for almost two hours now. And the only time they’ve seen you put her down is when Dr. Grant came to check on her.” 

She didn’t deny his words. She couldn’t. Because it was true, the curly-haired brunette was attached. Even though it had only been a few hours since she was born. 

“I just-” her voice broke and Sarah hated it. She didn’t used to be this emotional, but the two rugrats in her stomach liked to put her emotions and bladder into overdrive. “I used to think kids weren’t in the cards for me because I didn’t think I had a maternal bone in my body. I don’t even remember my biological mother. But here I am, pregnant with two children already on the way and I can’t put down this child.” 

Her head tilted up and she peered up into Connor’s tender blue eyes. He rubbed the tears out of hers. “Tell me, baby.” 

“She’s by herself. No one in this world anymore. DCFS says she’s okay to be discharged but it’s too late to place her tonight so they’re going to keep her here for the night.” Her voice was soft as the baby in her arms yawned and stretched one of her arms. She was blissfully unaware of what was going on in her world right now. It made Sarah wonder if she was ever that unaware and when she became aware. How would that shape this little girl when she became aware? 

Her…Connor (God, she was having the man’s children, and had practically all but moved in with him since she was released from the hospital five months ago. And she was still struggling with what to call him) hummed, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“She won't be by herself because we’re taking her home tonight.”

“What?” Sarah looked back up from the baby to Connor sharply. 

“We’re taking her home.  After Natalie let me know what happened and said that you seemed pretty reluctant to let the baby go. I went and talked to Madeline. It took a little convincing and Ms. Goodwin definitely helped out a bit, but Madeline agreed for a few nights. Then we can discuss the options to foster and adopt further later.”

“Connor, we already have two babies on the way we can’t-”

“We can,” Connor interrupted gently. One of his hands found her stomach once more while the other one tucked the already swaddled blanket more securely around the baby. “After I talked to Madeline, I called Claire and had her get one of the car seats from the nursery and drive my SUV up from the apartment. She seemed a little too eager to drive my Porsche home by the way.” 

Sarah tried and failed to hide her smile. Connor grinned back softly as he continued, “I installed the car seat, Madeline signed off on it.  And I talked to Will about helping me install another crib this weekend and while we’re at the store, we can pick up another car seat. Till then we can use one of the bassinets set up in our room and get another one later and our families have made sure we have the essentials already.”

Sarah chuckled because it was true. Despite everything bleak happening with Justin’s death and her being shot, both of their families were so happy when they told them they were expecting. The pregnancy was actually a blessing in disguise in those early months of grief, when Sarah just wanted to stop everything. But she couldn’t because it wasn’t just her anymore. There were now two babies depending on her. So she couldn’t just not eat because she didn’t feel like it. Or it made her get out of bed because of her doctor appointments.

Claire, Erin, and Olive had started buying bottles, blankets, and even diapers after they told them. They would’ve started buying clothes too but Sarah had talked them out of it because she was nowhere near term at only five months, despite what her stomach looked like. 

“Okay, Mr. Man-with-a-Plan, what about clothes?” In response to her question, he held up a full tote of what seemed like fabric. 

“Nat had Helen bring all of Owen’s old baby clothes for right now. And I grabbed a can of formula until we decide if we want to try donor milk or not. Or if you even want to try breastfeeding after we have the twins.

Sarah couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her mouth, “You really are serious, aren’t you? You want us to take her home, when we already have two on the way.”

“Sarah, obviously we can’t do this with every child that comes through the hospital. But you already said you can’t put her down. So I’m telling you, you don’t have to. We can take her home with us.”

Connor made it sound so easy; he always had a way of doing that. When her mind was running a mile a minute, he knew exactly what to say to calm her down. But still…

“You know that if we take her home tonight, we’ll get attached.” 

“Seems to me like you’re already attached,” Connor pressed one last kiss to her forehead. Then he crouched down and gathered the baby into his arms. She hadn’t been able to give the baby to anyone. But she let the little girl slide easily into her lover’s arms. The small bundled-up blanket looked so small in his arms. 

Cooing quietly to the baby, Connor slid the baby into a removable car seat and strapped her in. Then he turned and looked at her expectantly. “Are you ready to go?”

“I want you to remember this conversation when in five months our lives are very hectic with not one, not two, but three babies.” She said, gathering her stuff that April had brought her hours ago when it became clear she wasn’t coming back to the ED.

Sarah went to stand, but found it difficult to get to her feet. The brunette imagined how a turtle felt as she shuffled her feet, trying to get levage with her swollen stomach. 

“Connor, I can’t get up.” She admitted, “My stomach is messing with my sense of gravity.”

“Mommy’s so silly isn’t she?” He cooed to the baby quietly, before he turned toward her. 

Mommy. She was a mom and she hadn’t even given birth yet. Her heart stuttered in her chest. 

Her lover was smart enough to try and hide his grin, but it didn’t quite work as he walked the few steps towards her. 

“You just had to show off and get me pregnant with twins didn’t you?” She snarked, without any real heat to her words. Connor grinned, helping her up before he kissed her. 

When he pulled away, he murmured against her lips, “Now come on, baby, we both know you’re the overachiever in this relationship.”

He patted her protruding stomach gently. According to the books and her doctors both, it’d be another few weeks before either baby started kicking. Especially with this being her first pregnancy. But that didn’t stop Connor from patting or tapping her stomach with a certain gentleness to try and make one of the twins respond in kind. 

Wrapping the borrowed coat from him around her frame, his hand sat against the small of her back as he propelled her forward. Then her lover turned back to grab the car seat with the baby in it. 

He grabbed her hand with his free one, “Let’s go home.”

“Let’s go home.” She echoed. Her, him, their twins, and now their little girl. 

[beautifuleveryone]

My Only Dream - G.Satoru

Puppy Love Series Master link:

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifuleveryone/730495177104424960/puppy-love-gsatoru?source=share

And They Called it Puppy Love link (first part of series):

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifuleveryone/730496061837377536/and-they-called-it-puppy-love-gsatoru?source=share

This is Not a Puppy Love link (third and last part of the series)

https://www.tumblr.com/beautifuleveryone/730695712163184640/this-is-not-a-puppy-love-gsatoru?source=share

This is the second part of the series (can be read alone)

Synopsis:

Y/n and Gojo are called out on a mission where they have to camp out in a beach house and wait for a Sea Serpent Curse. Being in forced proximity like that...secrets are spilled and walls are broken down.

Word count: 1.7k

--

Y/n was tasked to be a helper teacher of sorts in Jujutsu Tech. She didn’t really have a place there, she just floated around. The elder’s reasoning was that she wasn’t a teacher because there were no spots available, but she was too powerful to not be employed at the school. She made best friends with Shoko, was on friendly terms with the students and managed to get on the elder’s good side.

On the third week after her arrival, Gojo and Y/n were called to the Elder’s office room to discuss a mission. They were tasked with exorcising a special grade sea serpent curse off of a beach south of Jujutsu Tech, and to exorcise a group of grade 1 curses on a nearby boardwalk as they were passing through. “What a drag,” Gojo said as he and Y/n left the room. “Grade 1s are boring.”

Y/n assumed Gojo looked at her because he smiled. “At least I can go to the beach with you!”

In those three weeks, Y/n got to know more about Gojo, and she wasn’t…as fond of him as he was of her. She didn’t hate him - there were just qualities in him that she had qualms with. Sometimes, he would purposely leave details out of a situation to tease her. He told her that Panda only ate bamboo, so she gifted him a bamboo tree upon meeting him.

She also wasn’t overly fond of Gojo’s obsession with her. It seemed to multiply and double with each passing day. Gojo would find small habits of Y/n’s and find them cute until every last detail of Y/n made him positively neck deep in affection. The prolonged teasing and flirting were also getting a bit much for Y/n.

Going back to the purposeful lack of detail - Gojo didn’t tell Y/n that he was bringing his first years to the beach trip with them. It was an overnight stay - they were supposed to stay in a beach house so they could monitor the curse and kill it when it popped up. The original beach house would be too cramped with everyone, so Gojo, with his seemingly infinite bank balance, rented out the entire beach as well as a huge villa.

Y/n was pissed at Gojo. A heads-up would’ve been nice. So she ignored him on the train ride there. She turned down his offer to go canoeing (“but Y/n! It’ll be just like The Notebook!”). She avoided him when everyone had a beach day as well. That was the icing on the cake.

“Y/n sensei, why are you ignoring Gojo?” Itadori asked. He was playing beach volley-ball with his classmates and Gojo while Y/n was sitting in the shade reading a book. When the ball bounced over to Y/n, he took the chance to ask her. “He got on my nerves.” Was Y/n’s simple answer. Itadori nodded, deep in thought. “He seems sad.” Itadori observed. “he keeps looking over at you with these gross puppy dog eyes.”

Y/n glanced over at Gojo and shivered. He was glaring dangerously at Itadori and made a slicing motion with his thumb to his neck. Itadori gulped. “I-Imma go now.”

**

Part of the job was that the curse could spring up any time, so while the students were sleeping Gojo and Y/n were awake on the veranda facing the beach, ready to spring up and fight. Gojo was seriously miserable. He missed Y/n, and she was right there! He missed the way her mouth would twitch upward unwillingly whenever he cracked a joke. He missed the way she blushed whenever he flirted with her. He missed staring into her deep red eyes and her staring back. He missed the sound of her voice.

He scooted over closer to Y/n. “Why are you ignoring me? Is it because I didn’t tell you about my students tagging along?” Y/n could sense a shift in the air. Gojo was being serious. “Please. Talk to me. Even if you’re going to yell. I want to hear your voice.”

Y/n picked nervously on her shirt. “It was that but…your flirting. Its very…excessive.” Gojo smiled, relieved that Y/n was speaking to him and cupped her face in his hands so that she would look at him. “What? You don’t like it?” He asked. His blindfold was off, and it felt like he was searching the inner depths of Y/n’s soul. Y/n was freaking out.

“No. Just-turn it down, ok? We have to be friends first.” Gojo’s face was unreadable. “Is that the way they do it in America?” He asked. Y/n laughed out loud. “God no. But it’s the way things should be.”

He nodded, with a small pout on his lips. “You know I really like you, right?” He let go of Y/n’s face. She nodded slowly. “I’m sorry but-“ He put a finger in a shushing gesture on Y/n’s mouth. His finger was soft, and it shook a little when they made contact. “Shh.”

“knowing that you know how i feel is all i need to know.” A devilish smile spread across his face. “I’ll just keep going until you can say that you like me too.” Begrudgingly, he took his finger off Y/n’s mouth and stretched lazily. “i guess until then I have to put a lid on it then.”

Y/n’s mouth went dry. For some reason, she wasn’t a fan of that idea. She didn’t like it when Gojo was all over her, but…she wouldn’t like it if he wasn’t.

Make up your mind, woman, she thought. She shook her head aggressively, as if dispelling that thought. “Do you want to sit out on the sand and look into the waves? Just as friends?” She asked quietly. A glint returned to Gojo’s eyes. Progress, he thought.

**

They sat calmly next to each other, and watched as the waves crashed over and receded back. Gojo idly brought his phone out and started playing a song. “Matched the vibe.” He explained.

-Space Song by Beach House- (recommended that you play it)

As the beginning strings filled the beach air around them Y/n shivered. She didn’t think it was going to be that cold at night and she couldn’t afford to go back to the house to grab a coat in case the curse appeared. Gojo, sensing that Y/n was cold, scooted closer to her and put his arm around her shoulders. Y/n stiffened and Gojo rolled his eyes. “As friends. You’re cold.” He said. Y/n nodded. She snuggled into him more, trying to get warm. Secretly, she also enjoyed the closeness. “As friends.” She mumbled into his chest.

He smiled, high on the contact. He also smiled at how undeniable everything was: he was in love with Y/n. Even if she pushed him away he’ll only love her more and more, probably until the sun stops burning and the universe implodes.

He paused his train of thought when he noticed that Y/n was taking heavier breaths. Looking down affectionately he realised that Y/n was sleeping. He pressed a light kiss on her forehead and felt a pang of longing for the day he could kiss her with her kissing back.

Since when did i become such a hopeless romantic? he thought.

y/n was still under the veil of sleep. Y/n’s powers enabled her to be able to read people’s minds, and she accidently turned her powers on. What she was met with was a torrent of love and longing. Pure, unconditional love. She saw Gojo taking hundreds of pictures of her and creating an album on his phone of her. She saw him looking at those photos in his free time and smiling. She saw him day dreaming about her and she actually walked into a daydream Gojo was thinking about in that moment.

**

Everything was light and rosy. Soft music was playing in the background. Y/n couldn’t believe that she was in Gojo’s mind. She tried to get out, but she somehow was stuck inside. Classic Gojo.

The light dimmed down and she was able to see.

This is a daydream he revisits the most, Y/n thought to herself.

A wedding aisle. She saw herself, dressed in a gorgeous Vera Wang wedding dress. She saw Gojo, dressed and smart. He was smiling happily. She saw the flower arrangements and realised with a start:

My favourite flowers.

As she looked around, she realised that everything was meticulously planned and gone over. Usually, daydreams were a little fuzzy, but everything had vivid detail. The guests. The location. The music.

Y/n was the most detailed. Even Gojo looked less detailed than her.

Her wedding dress gleamed with dozens of gems, small and intricate. Her veil was weaved with tiny lace designs in roses. Her makeup was classy and her eyes gleamed. She looked so pretty.

Gojo daydreamed about their wedding day, she realised with a start. And he daydreamed about her the most.

Y/n and Gojo kissed. Y/n suddenly felt a burst of warmth.

This must be what Gojo feels like right now, she thought.

Afterwards, Gojo replayed the kissing scene. Again and again, this time with a large drop of longing and pain.

She woke up with a start. Space song finished and now ‘Say Yes to Heaven’ by Lana del Rey was on. (recommended that you play it)

Gojo was hugging Y/n and rubbing the small of her back while she slept.

What Gojo feels about me is real, Y/n thought.

And I feel that way too.

Gojo saw that Y/n was awake and stopped rubbing her back. “As friends” he teased. “Don’t go off on me.”

“I won’t.” Y/n said in a small voice. Gojo smiled softly.

Y/n cupped Gojo’s face with her hands. He looked surprised, then he blushed and looked down. “I thought you said we were friends.” He muttered.

“I saw your daydream Gojo. I somehow read your mind while I was asleep.” He looked abruptly up at her then down again, blushing harder than he had ever done in his life.

“That’s an invasion of privacy.” He sulked.

Y/n didn’t know what to say. She didn’t have the words.

“I kind of…liked it.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could control herself.

He didn’t realise that Gojo was endgame about her. She thought that all of that flirting was all for pretend, and that’s why she got sick of it. But that daydream…it felt right.

Gojo looked at her with a sparkle in his eyes. Then, he leaned in and kissed her.

At first, he was gentle and reverent. He thought about this moment for so long, he wanted to enjoy it. But his self control ran out and he kissed her with a passion, a hunger that he desperately needed to be quenched.

Y/n kissed back.

Gojo wondered if heaven was a woman.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: The Season That Steals

Prompt: Life with and life without Luke

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: character death

A/N: continuing to repost these :)

Time goes by in flashes- like you were watching your life story through a slideshow of photographs. There was the part before Luke- where you moved 1,200 miles away from your childhood home and got your first shitty apartment in the city. There were the nights you spent alone, crying because you were scared you’d made a terrible mistake moving so far away from your parents. Then there was the year and a half spent bussing tables fifty hours a week on minimum wage just to be able to afford your college degree. There was the time you adopted that stray cat for a month before it died and the hours upon hours you spent riding the bus before you bought your very own car. There was the pride you felt graduating college and relief when you finally got a job to show for it. 

Then there was the part with Luke; that part was your favorite. That part was filled with vivid images of your first date at Merchant Park, and the first time he grabbed your hand. There was the way he smirked right before he leaned in and kissed you, your lips feeling the warmth of his for the very first time. There was the first time that he told you he loved you, and the relief in his eyes when you said it back, never more sure of anything in your entire life. There were images of your first apartment together, and your first house- the way the shutters were nailed on slightly crooked but none of that mattered because it was yours. So many firsts, flashed before you in the blink of an eye. 

But it was there, standing in the middle of the kitchen of you and Luke’s house with a dishrag hung over your shoulder, that you realized there was a new part to your story.  

The part without Luke.   

It all starts in autumn.  

Seemingly overnight, the green leaves that once lined the branches like blisters turned red, orange, and yellow, contrasting against the dull, gray sky.

The changing leaves were mesmerizing. But they were nothing compared to the color of Luke’s eyes. 

They’re the first thing you noticed when you bumped into him- literally- bumped into him on the sidewalk as he turned abruptly around, oblivious to you standing behind him in the cafe line.

The second thing you noticed is the cold liquid dripping down your shirt and open jacket, the coffee immediately staining the front of your blue tee.  

He stared for a moment, clearly horrified and unsure of what to say.   

When your mouth fell open, he rushed out a hurried apology, “I am so sorry-” his words were panicked. He ran to the counter, frantically grabbing as many napkins as he could to hand over to you.  

Once the initial shock of the iced coffee spilling on your shirt wore off, you were able to let out a stuttered laugh as you dabbed your shirt. Meeting like that was a complete cliche after all, and you were never really one to get mad at an accident like this. Plus, you couldn’t have asked for a cuter guy to have spilled coffee all over you.   

“I feel like I owe you another cup,” you joked. 

But he was already shaking his head. “No way- if anything I owe you a cup,” he pauses. “And a new shirt.”

Luke did buy you a coffee that morning. And he got your name and phone number with promises to call. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t wait by the phone that entire night, anxious for an unknown number to pop up on your screen.  You’d also be lying if you said you didn’t squeal in a frequency only a dog could hear when he did call.  

Your first date had been in the park- where autumn was on full display. It was a windy afternoon, and the gusts tore the leaves down, like they were never really there from the start. They fell like warm, orange and yellow rain drops down to the earth below. 

Luke had bought you a new shirt, and when you tried to refuse, he just shook his head and insisted. “To replace the one I ruined,” he explained, he handed it over with a grin on his face. It was almost the exact same shade as the shirt with the coffee stain on it. You wouldn’t learn this until later, but Luke paid excruciatingly painful attention to details, especially when those details pertained to you.  That was one of the things you quickly grew to love about him; he saw you- really saw you. And he noticed things about you that no one had ever cared enough to notice before.  

Like when on your fourth or fifth date, you met at Luke’s place for a night of Halloween movies. Luke had ordered a pizza for the two of you and when you opened the box to see half the pizza covered in black olives, you turned to him, stunned.

“Is there something wrong with it?” he asked, confused by your shocked expression. 

You shook your head. “No- it’s just, people don’t usually get black olives on pizza.”

“Oh,” he said, grabbing a slice of the cheese and flopping it on his plate. “Well when we ate at Pat’s last week, I noticed you got pepperoni with black olives, so I just figured that meant you liked them.”

He had said it so nonchalantly- like it was no big deal. And for him, it probably wasn’t. But for you- it meant that Luke cared enough to learn that you liked black olives on pizza. For you it meant that he saw you, all of you, not just the pieces he wanted to see. 

You had fought back the urge to cry that night- over black olives of all things. But you knew when you snuggled into his side on the couch that it was about so much more than that. 

...

Loving Luke wasn’t easy. Because, for a vast majority of the time, loving Luke meant missing Luke. It meant long distance phone calls and cancelled dates. His job tore him away from home more often than not, and at times, it felt like you were dating a ghost. 

But then he’d come home and sweep you off your feet time and time again, reminding you why loving him was worth it. 

“I miss you,” you had told him through the phone. If only you had counted the amount of times you’d said those words.

“I miss you too,” Luke says. His voice sounded groggy and tired. 

“What time is it there?” You asked. 

Luke chuckled. “What time is it here?” he repeats. “Baby, I’m in Florida- we’re in the same time zone. How far apart did you think we were?”    

To be honest, you had forgotten Luke was in Florida. He traveled so much that sometimes, all the places just blended together. “I don’t know. It always feels far.”

Luke sighed. “Yeah- I know.”

…

You marry in the fall. Originally, you had wanted a summer wedding, but when you start searching for venues and find that almost everything for the summer was booked, you both decide that October would do.  

It turned out to be perfect. The autumn breeze blew through your hair just right and your colorful bouquet even matched the changing leaves.  

Luke cried when he read his vows. 

You cried even harder when you read yours. 

The day was quick and overwhelming and beautiful all at once. And you hoped that you never forget the way that Luke’s skin shines under the setting autumn sun. 

And it was there, in front of all your loved ones and the changing leaves, that you promised to love each other forever. 

Till death do you part. 

... 

Luke was holding your trembling hand while you waited for the pregnancy test results. Three minutes had never felt so long in your entire life. 

The test laid on the edge of the sink, while you and Luke had sat on the floor, backs pressed against the tub. Both of your knees were tucked into your chest as you clung to the safety of Luke’s hand like your life depended on it. 

When the timer on your phone went off, you hesitated, biting your lip and looking at Luke. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” he comforted you. “No matter what that test says, we’ll be okay.”

His reassurance had given you the courage you needed to grab the stick. You stared down at the two, tiny pink lines.  

Luke had been gazing at you eagerly. Your mouth felt so dry when you opened it and said, “We’re pregnant.”

A lot of feelings rushed through you. There was fear, anxiety, excitement- all for the unknown. But when Luke leapt up from his spot on the floor and engulfed you in his arms, you also felt love. And that was all you ever really needed anyway. 

…

It was a near perfect fall evening in November. The sky was painted pink, orange, and blue. The air sang as gusts of wind moved soft, but quick. The grass moved with the flow, standing tall and proud, while a myriad of leaves dance their way to the ground, only to be picked back up and placed gingerly in a new location. It was a near perfect fall evening in November when you and Luke become first time parents to a baby girl.  

She was small and healthy and the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. 

Luke took some time off from work to stay home with the two of you, and for the first time you realize how deprived you’ve been of having him home so much. It was nice, and when the time came for him to go back to work, you were unsure how either of you will survive without him. 

But no matter how much you plead, Luke left on Monday morning.  You promised to send him pictures and videos of every little thing that your daughter did, so that he wouldn't miss it.  

He had smiled, pressing his lips to yours. 

“See you tonight, I love you both.”

…

When your daughter was three, she thought that she might want to be a chef for Halloween. It’s all too fitting because you had literally just discovered that you had another bun in the oven. Maybe you could incorporate a costume into telling Luke the news. 

You were waiting until Luke was home from a case to tell him. It didn’t seem right doing it over FaceTime. 

Of course he could tell something was up beforehand. “Why’re you so fidgety?” he had asked, his brows furrowing through the phone screen. 

“It’s nothing,” you had assured him, not wanting to ruin the surprise.  Luke didn’t believe you for a second, but you were saved when your rambunctious three year old heard the voice of her daddy and came bellowing into the bedroom, hollering for him. 

“I miss you, when will you be home?” she asked, pouting her lip in the cute way that she always did. Your daughter was the spitting image of Luke, with her tight brown curls and beautiful, dark skin.    

Luke had sighed. The distance was as hard on him as it was on you.  “I’ll be home soon, peanut.”

“By Halloween?” she asked eagerly.  

Luke knew better than to make any promises. It was a fight the two of you had had many times before. “I’ll do my best,” he said instead. That way nobody’s hopes were too high. 

That year, Luke did make it home for Halloween.  

In a last minute phase, your daughter changed her mind and decided that instead of a chef, she wanted to dress up as a bumblebee.  

Your plan to disclose your ‘bun in the oven’ had to change.  But you’d make it work. 

“What’s my costume this year?” Luke had asked as he unpacked his suitcase from his last case.  

You dug through the closet and threw his outfit on the bed. “You’re a beekeeper,” you told him. You figured now was the time to tell him. 

“And I’m gonna be your bayBEE Mama..” You emphasized the word bee. “Again.”

It takes a moment before Luke spins on his feet to gawk at you.  He had this look of disbelief on his face, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. 

“Are you serious?” he asked, excitement evident in his voice. 

You had nodded, the tears pricked your eyes. “Yeah,” you said eagerly. “I found out a few weeks ago.”

Luke crossed the room in a hurry, his arms quickly wrapped themselves around you. “I’m gonna excuse your horrible bee puns and corniness because I’m so damn excited.” With that, he kissed you. 

…

You’d always wanted a family. One that spent time together- and genuinely enjoyed each other’s company

You, Luke and your two children were cuddled on the couch one evening watching a Halloween movie, when you get a sudden feeling of complete fullness. Your son was now five, something you still hadn’t gotten used to saying, and tucked tightly beneath your arm.  You could tell by his sudden stillness and steady breathing that he was fast asleep. On your other side was Luke- with a very sleepy eight year old girl draped across his lap. His eyes met yours and you both smirked.  

“Weren’t they the ones insisting we watch this movie?” Luke whispered. 

You shrugged, not daring to move too much, for fear that you’d wake them.  

When the credits rolled at the end of the film, Luke stood up with your daughter still cradled in his arms. “Want me to take him?”

But you shake your head. Your boy might be five, but you refused to believe there would come a day that you could no longer pick him up. “I got him.”

Carefully, you stood up without waking him.  

After the kids were tucked gently into their beds, you and Luke did the same. He wound his arm around you and pulled you tightly into his side.  

“You’re always so warm,” you mumbled before drifting off to sleep.  

...

It all ended in autumn. 

The fullness, the warmth, the happiness- in what seems like the blink of an eye, it was all ripped from you. 

When the last of the leaves were raked into giant piles on your front lawn- you’d spent the entirety of the afternoon gathering them. The kids wanted to wait until Luke was home from his case before they jumped in them, which you thought was sweet. 

They were running around the house playing with the new wands their Aunt Penelope got them when your cell phone rings. 

You hesitate when the name of the Unit Chief of Luke’s team flashes across your screen.

“Emily, hi,” you said uneasily. 

There was an uneasy pause.     

“Y/N-” she started, her voice low. “Luke was shot.” Suddenly, the noise from your house drowned out, everything inside of you went numb. It was like your mind couldn't comprehend- or believe any of it. 

“Where is he-” you stuttered, you didn’t even recognize the sound of your own voice. “Is he alive?” 

“We’re sending you a car right now- he was brought to the GW Hospital. I don’t have any updates.”

You’re blinking harshly- your daughter skid into the kitchen and grabbed her coloring book off from the counter casually. “Can I get the crayons, mom?” She asked, oblivious to the world crashing down around you.  

You stared at her, wondering what kind of sick joke this was, before nodding. As soon as she hurried off, you stated, “I need to see him- But the kids- I can’t bring the kids.”

“Matt and JJ are on their way over now. One of them can watch them.” Emily said. “They’ll be there soon.” 

All you could do was breathe heavily into the line. “Emily,” you stuttered. “Is he- is he going to-?” Die, you wanted to say, but you couldn't quite form the words.

“He’s a fighter, he’s going to fight,” she told you.  

That wasn’t the no you were hoping for. 

…

The ride to the hospital was quiet. You said nothing to Matt as he drove you to the hospital Luke was admitted at. All you could focus on was the white lines on the side of the rode rushing by. The only update you had gotten was a text from Emily.  

He’s in surgery, she had typed. 

You locked your phone without responding. 

…

When you got there, the first person you see is Rossi, who looked even more exhausted than you felt. He looked unshowered and pale, like he hadn't slept in days.

“Sweetheart, hey,” Rossi said when he spotted you, giving you a weak smile.

“Is he-” you started, hands shaking as you wrung them together. “Is he okay?”

Rossi hesitated, looking unsure, and you felt your heart drop so hard that it made you want to be sick right then and there. 

“He's pretty banged up. They think the bullet might have nicked an artery. He’s still in surgery.”

You could feel your bottom lip tremble, your eyes going hot with tears, but you shoved it down, forcing yourself to stay calm. “Okay,” you answered shakily. 

Rossi pulldd you in for a hug.

It's strange because you and Rossi have only met a handful of times, but you already knew you could trust him. 

You cling to him tightly.

“He's alright,” he whispered in your ear. “He's- he's gonna be alright.”

You swallowed heavily, nodding into his shoulder. You don't want to let go.

…

It took almost five hours before you heard anything from the doctor.  That was five hours that you were left to sit there, expecting the worst. You don’t know how many times you’ve watched the doors to the operating room swing open now, only to find it was a nurse grabbing a chart, or a doctor consulting a different family.  

So when Luke’s doctor actually walked through the door, you barely budged. It wasn't until he was standing over you that you finally stood up, eager and afraid all at once. 

“How is he?” Rossi spoke for you. He hadn’t left your side the entire day.  

The damage from the bullet was…” his voice trails off.  “Catastrophic.”

The knot that’s been lingering in your stomach tightened. 

“He suffered a tear in his aortic artery, we had to open up his chest to operate and repair the damage.”

You’re unable to speak as you desperately try to absorb everything the doctor was telling you. 

Thank goodness for Rossi. 

“And did you?” he asked. “Repair the damage?”

“We did the best we could. He’s stable, for now.”

Rossi let out a relieved sigh that made the knot in your stomach loosen. 

“He’s not in the clear yet- this surgery was invasive and extreme.  We’re going to be monitoring him closely for the next few days.”

You exhaled sharply suddenly, the realization that Luke was alive washing over you. 

“Can I see him?” you blurted out. 

Luke’s eyes were closed when you quietly open the door, giving you a moment to just look. Your husband was in a bed in the middle of the room, lying back. His cheeks were pale and sunken, his curls wild. He was wearing one of those awful paper gowns and you could see through it enough to see the bruising on his chest.

He was a mess. He looked terrible, beat to hell, but he was alive and you were in the same room as him. That's all you needed to breathe out slowly, feeling relieved. You’re still an emotional wreck, hands still shaking as you closed the door behind you, but Luke was alive.

…

You weren't sure how long you’d been asleep in the chair in the corner of Luke’s room, but when you woke up your neck was stiff and creaky. You tried to stretch, and heard a few pops as you did.  

When you fully opened your eyes, you noticed there was a nurse hanging over Luke’s bed. She was checking vitals and talking to him.  It made you sit up straighter. 

You peaked over her shoulder to see that Luke was laying, with his eyes open, in bed. 

You resisted the urge to interrupt whatever evaluation she was completing on him, but you were desperate to shove her over and just wrap your arms around your husband so tight- you’d never let him work again. 

“Do you know where you are, Mr. Alvez?” the nurse asked. 

Luke nodded. “Hospital,” he grunted. His voice was choppy and hoarse, but it was beautiful. 

“That’s right, and do you remember what happened?” she asked. 

Luke nodded again. “Was shot.”

The nurse adjusted the IV in his arm when he spoke again. “My wife-”

“She’s here, Mr. Alvez. Your wife is right here.”

She moved her body aside so that you were visible to Luke, and it was only then that you realized you had tears running down your cheeks.

“Hi baby,” you whispered, touching his ankle at the foot of the bed gently. 

Luke did his best to offer you a smile, but it was weak. 

“I’m going to get the doctor, okay, Mr. Alvez?” the nurse said.  She hung his chart on the foot of his bed and exited the room, leaving the two of you alone. 

“Oh my god,” was all you could manage to get out before you were at the side of his bed, wanting to leap on top of Luke- to wrap your arms around him and never let go. But you couldn't- he’s fragile and near broken in the bed.  

“I’m so sorry,” he started. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

Leave it to Luke to be the one apologizing to you after he got shot.  

You shook your head, gathering his hand in yours quickly.  “Shh,” you told him. “Stop. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

…

“You should really go get some rest,” Luke urged you later that evening.  

You automatically shook your head, your grip around his hand tightening. “I’m fine.”

“What about the kids?”

“They’re fine too.”

You really didn’t want to leave Luke’s side. 

Members of his team had been filtering in and out.  Everyone except JJ, who promised she wouldn’t leave your kids’ sides until you got home. 

Luke still looked so damn pale. He was almost translucent- his skin looking sickly. If he looked better in the morning, then maybe you’d feel comfortable leaving him long enough to go home and shower, maybe bring the kids in to visit. That would certainly make him feel better. 

“I hate this stupid machine,” he told you, motioning towards his heart monitor. “The beeping is driving me insane.”

“Just try not to think about it,” you soothe.  Easier said than done. 

“There’s no way I’m sleeping with that thing on,” he said, shaking his head. 

You nod. “Okay. Let me go get some coffee.” If Luke was awake, you’d stay awake, too. 

“Any special requests?”

“Cheeseburger. Extra fries- and a milkshake.”

“Do I look like a McDonald’s to you?” you asked.

"A really, really beautiful one."

You leaned over and kissed the smirk off from his face. 

“I love you,” you told him against his lips. 

“You too,” he murmured. 

With that, you turned your back to him and left the room.

…

Instantly upon returning to Luke's room, you knew that there was something wrong. 

You couldn't see Luke’s face behind the doctor’s white coat, but when one of them whirled around to face you, you heard it.

You heard the silence- ringing in your ears louder than anything you’d ever heard.

There was no beeping machines, no noises of pain coming from the bed or calming reassurances from a nurse. There was no noise in the room at all.

The doctor walked over to you, taking your arm and steering you towards the chairs in the hallway. “What’s going on-” you asked, trying to peak around him. 

“Mrs. Alvez-” he said as you dig your heels in.

“I need to get in there,” you said, your voice sounding high-pitched and panicked in your own ears. “I just need to get back–“

“Mrs. Alvez,” the doctor said, his voice low. “You need to sit.”

You took a step back and fell into the chair behind you, confusion evident all over your face. “What is going on?” you asked. “I just stepped out to get some coffee, I was just in there. Do you remember me-”

“Mrs. Alvez, one of the complications from the surgery your husband went through is extensive strain on the heart.”

You nodded, “Okay-”

“That strain caused your husband to go into cardiac arrest- I’m afraid there was nothing we could do.”

“Wh- what?” Is all you managed to say. 

“Mrs. Alvez, your husband just had a heart attack. He died.”

The word echoed in your brain until you couldn't see straight- until you couldn't breathe.

You shook your head. “No,” you told him. Because was he serious?  Did he really not remember who your husband was? You knew doctors were busy, but mixing up patients like this seemed absurd... And so unprofessional.

“My husband is Luke. He came in with the gunshot wound. Do you really not remember us? He was just awake in there.”

“Mrs. Alvez, I remember you,” he said solemnly. “I am so sorry- Is there anyone we can call for you?"

He reached his arm out to touch you, but you jerk your arm back and stood up. You wanted as much distance between yourself and this monster as you could get. 

“This is-” you stammered. “This is ridiculous. I just want to see my husband.”

With that, you darted past him and into Luke’s room. 

“Luke,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re never going to guess what this doctor just told-” 

But your sentence, your air, your life was instantly sucked out of your body when you saw Luke laying flat in the same bed you left him in.  The pillows are scattered on the floor and the gown he was wearing is ripped open across the chest, exposing his bare skin. There were paddles on a cart next to him and matching burn marks on his skin.  His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted. The image made you back into the door behind you, it rattled loudly, banging into the wall.

You weren't sure how long you stared. 

It took an agonizingly long time for the image before you to sink into your brain- for your mind to process what was happening. 

“Luke?” you whispered, but your voice was no longer your own. 

And suddenly, you were here and Luke was not. 

…

The first person you called was Emily.  

She was the only person you could think of that you didn’t think would cry immediately upon hearing the news. 

She answered on the second ring, but even after you heard her say, “Hello?” it took you a minute to find the words to speak. 

“I uh-” you begin. You already felt like everything had been sucked out of you. “I need to go home.”

“Okay,” Emily began, confusion evident in her voice.  

“I need someone to pick me up.”

“I can send a car,” she told you. “Does Luke need anything?”

Just hearing the sound of his name made your insides churn. You squeezed your eyes shut before taking a deep breath. 

“Luke died.”

Silence. 

“About half an hour ago now.”

“Wh-what?”

“Yeah,” your voice was barely a whisper. 

“I don’t understand-”

That made two of you. Instead you asked, “Can you send someone to pick me up? Please?”

... 

You went home with Matt, and he made it clear that he didn't want you to be alone. You stared at the wet streets and wondered with a sick feeling where Luke’s body would go, if he’d stay cold, in the basement of the hospital before his funeral. You closed your eyes and leaned your forehead against the cool glass of the car window. 

It should’ve been me, you thought. It was all you can think about, the only thought ringing loud enough in your brain to drown out thoughts of Luke.

Matt put the car in park and it was only then that you realized you were sitting in the driveway of your home. Your insides filled with dread. 

“How do I tell them?” you whispered, your voice sounding unfamiliar. “How do I walk inside and make this the worst day of my kid’s lives?”

There were tears in Matt’s eyes when you looked at him. 

“How do I tell them that their dad died?” your voice cracked on the last word, and you doubled over in Matt’s car, clutching at your sides for comfort.  

Matt’s hand found your back.  

“It should have been me,” you gasped. “Luke is strong- he would’ve been strong for them. I can’t be strong- It should have been me.”

Matt protested. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice stern. “You are strong, okay? You are strong, and you’re not alone. Now I don’t care how long we have to sit here until you’re ready- but I’m gonna be right here with you, okay?”

You wiped your nose with the sleeve of your shirt and nodded.  

Matt was right. Luke was strong- but now you had to be strong for him.  ou had to be strong for him and your kids. 

...

Autumn days fall by as fast as the leaves from the trees. The sun rises and sets as if on fast-forward- as if there is some divine hurry to reach winter.  

Gusts of wind make you zip your jacket up all the way before grabbing your son’s hand.  You hold it tight- the heat from his skin radiating through your own.  

Your daughter leans into your side as you all walk across the cemetery.

It’s autumn outside. And you realize that this is a season that steals.

It starts slowly, just a few minutes of daylight every day, a few green leaves here and there until the sky is black before you leave from work and the tree canopy is just outlines- a skeleton of what they were. 

The cost of life is death, and this is the season that makes us face it.

Just weeks ago it was summer. But, today, the sky is cold and gray.

Just weeks ago you had Luke. Now he’s laying in a closed casket that’s being lowered into the ground.  

You didn’t make a speech. It took all of your strength to stand there and hold your children as they watched their father be buried.   

“Mom,” your daughter says, tugging at your hand. The service has ended and people start filing out of the cemetery in groups. “Mom, the leaves are pretty,” she says sweetly. 

You look up at the tree just beyond your husband’s grave, where your daughter pointed. The leaves have turned golden and bright. 

Soon, those leaves will fall. Right down to the earth below. They’ll fall and they’ll shrivel and they’ll be buried in mountains of snow.

But as you look down to the hopeful look on your daughter’s face, one that resembled Luke’s so closely, you realize that doesn’t make them any less beautiful while they’re here. Soon, that same tree will form new buds. Maybe next fall they’ll turn red. 

You take a deep breath and stare up at the sky. Right now it’s gray- and right now it will be dark by five. But soon, the days will get lighter and the hours will grow longer. Those naked trees will grow another layer of green.

All of the death and pain and decay allows for something new to grow. Something beautiful.  

You look down at Luke’s casket, your throat catching.  Someday, you think, something beautiful will grow from all these cold, bitter feelings inside of you. From out of nowhere. Like a miracle.

Autumn is the season that steals, but it is also the season that gives you hope.