#like. everytime I draw these boys I have to fight the urge to give them bangs for the sake of making things easier for myself

[ghostlight-express]

Sol/Emmet & Ingo/Rena based on this post by @antidotesprout

[zodiacrant]

🍩My experiences with each Moon sign🍩

(Cause yall are messy)

I have done this a few times before but for Sun signs and did rank placements but never shared my thoughts and experiences with the Moon signs.

Now I know how this goes, so if you get mad or sad then go off I guess. Aint the first time I get cursed out or attacked in this bitch. Plus, I am a Cap moon so naturally I won’t do well with some Moons and I will be nitpicking everything about everyone.

🍩Aries Moon🍩

My dad’s moon. Yup, that tells you alot without me even starting. Having our Moons in Square shit was hard to say the least. It took a long time for us to be on middle grounds and because I don’t feel comfortable talking about my problems here I will continue on. The Aries Moon that I really like and can think of is Rihanna, so I would say it’s unfair to make a whole judgment but from what I saw and heard they’re not exactly the best to be around. So I give them a 3/10 for being bold and having nerve.

🍩Taurus Moon🍩

Now this Moon right here I know people from ( a close friend and my sister, plus some others) and I don’t have many strong opinions about it. As a Taurus Sun, it can be a challenge to work with a Taurus Moon. I am stubborn at my core and they’re stubborn with their heart, so everytime we disagree it’s like a rope pulling contest. Way too stagnant for me but I think that’s because of my other placements and they don’t take any advice or open up no matter what. On to the good, I never disliked someone with this placement. No matter how much of an asshole they can be, to me it is difficult to hate them or stay mad at them. They’re warm, kind, and sweet but a bit aloof and naive, also they don’t like to touch and hug as some people might think. I will give them a 8/10

🍩Gemini Moon🍩

(⚠️TW⚠️ mention of rape and erratic behavior)

I only had one best friend with this placement and I don’t I want to meet any more, and I am at peace with that if they resemble her in any way. She was a maniac. She loved to lie, create drama, blow shit up, act crazy and basically be shocking. I do find similarities with Gemini Sun where they do shit for reactions but with her, she will take it to the next level. Lie about being raped, act possessed, or pretend that she is being followed. It’s not fair to associate her with people who share the same Moon as her but that was y’all’s representation in my life. She was erratic so it’s difficult to see where her Moon was in effect and where she was just off. I’ll give them a 1/10, would not recommend until proven otherwise.

🍩Cancer Moon🍩

The first that comes to my mind is Taylor Swift and to me she is the ultimate Cancer Moon. It juat makes sense how fast she takes it to the next level with people. Whether getting serious quickly with someone or throwing down and feuding. She just always at a 100. Personally, I never got close with someone who has this placement, maybe it’s because I am a Capricorn Moon myself, but I would say the ones that I have met were nice. I’ll give them a 5/10

🍩Leo Moon🍩

I only had one best friend with this placement but the people I have met with this Moon I still remember. They all had one thing in common and that was being emotionally traumatized and have lost one parent. My best friend was super loyal, very confident in what they believed in and represented, were always there for me and had an amazing ability in motivating others. But they were also super prideful and there’s no coming back with them. Fight once and it’s over. (Yes I am looking at you Jonnie). One of the other people was with me in uni and always had the to urge won up me and my friend. He had scars all over and he doesn’t remember how he got them. But he was super proud of himself and his home country, which I respect and admire. I’ll give them a 6/10

🍩Virgo Moon🍩

I know two people with this placement, my mom and a professor at uni, and oh boy it makes sense that they’re a Virgo Moon. Me and my mom are too alike that we clash strongly at times. She thinks she can do it better and I think I can do it better and we just have like a competition on who done it better basically. From cooking, to how you light the stove, to how you put on clothes, to how you lay down on bed. Both my mom and my professor are super critical and precise, althogh my professor is a double Virgo (Sun and Moon) so she will go even further. They have to do everything as it arises and act like there’s no time and everything is about to go wrong. Like damn sis chill the fuck out for a sec and this is coming from a Cap moon so you know it’s bad. But I really like Virgo Moon, even though people might hate such a personality but I can relate to them in some ways. I’ll give them 7/10

🍩Libra Moon🍩

My only online friend that I talk to all the time got this Moon. Other than her I met only two people and they were something. Okay so for my friend, because I never actually have seen her physically with my own eyes I can’t say how she acts all the time, but she is one of the best listeners I had in my life. She likes to hear me ramble for an hour about a dumb encounter that lasted a second, talking about astrology and some nerdy things and then not so nerdy things. I believe that it’s a Libra Moon quality to be emotionally versatile and attentive. I think because she is a Leo dominant she acts much fiery and fiercely than a Libra would. As for the other people I just thought they were fake. One acted as a friend but then would just disappear so I was over it quickly and the other was super passive and pretentious that I think she shits out plastic. All in all I think it’s a great Moon. I’ll give them a 7/10

🍩Scorpio Moon🍩

One of the hardest Moons I ever delt with but I find that I love them too. My oldest sister had this Moon and she is such a mystery. Because I am a Taurus Sun, it is only natural for me to have a hard time with a Scorpio Moon. Even though she is an extrovert, she rarely talks about herself and her feelings, you will never catch her slipping or show vulnerability. I can see how difficult it may be for her being a Cancer with a Scorpio Moon and have Gemini dominance. But she’s a bitch at heart and I am cool with it. I’ll give them 5/10 cause I am not a big fan of paradoxical people

🍩Sagittarius Moon🍩

A moon that I always babysat. I had two best friends with this Moon and if I was born a second earlier, it would mine too. I don’t know if it’s because of my Gemini Venus or my 0 degree Capricorn Moon but I love Sagittarius Moons. I was fortunate to see some of their weaknesses and for them to trust me enough to be vulnerable. But boy do they get themselves into the dumbest situation because they wanted to see what would happen. I had to babysit them and help them do everything like shopping, cooking, cleaning, assembling furniture, be their body guard when buying weed. (Shhhh it’s a secret). They’re in many ways immature cause they run from things and everytime you try to be real with them, they say “stop being negative”. I’ll give them a 9/10

🍩Capricorn Moon🍩

The grande dame of the Moon signs, sitting at it’s opposite planet. I have met many Cap Moons and honestly we are bitches 😂. The energy of sitting next to a Capricorn Moon is too fucking much like I never knew it’s like that. I noticed the way they stare, talk, walk and sit can be so aggressive and intimidating. I see why people might label us as bullies, cause the energy is definitely there and I myself was such a cunt (still a little but I am more aware of myself now) that I get where both are coming from. Life as a Capricorn Moon is emotionally flat. If wasn’t for my other placements you will never see me even flinch. I think we just take everything and let it process in our head before we let it into our hearts. So to me, we’re not mean, we just don’t see how something might be hurtful. But also that tone and that blank face, goddam! That’s why I try to smile cause bitch no, I didn’t know I was walking with a death stare this whole time. Anyways, I will give us 10/10 cause I am self appreciative like that 😂✌️

🍩Aquarius Moon🍩

I have always tried to understand Aquarius Moon and it was only a month ago that I have realized they themselves are not sure of who they’re. I had one best friend with this placement and three cousins (all siblings). First, my cousins are super competitive with each other on who gets to do what and if it happens that they’re similar in something they will get pissed. The person that was my best friend was like that as well. Only he would drop a an entire hobby, interest, something close to his heart, shit even a personality trait. I find them to be constantly changing and trying, so they shift between one end of extreme to the other until they center themselves. I’ll give them a 4/10

🍩Pisces Moon🍩

Now let’s talk about a depressing placement, in my opinion of course 😅. I don’t know if it’s the influence of Neptune on the Moon or is it the just the demeanor of Pisces, but good god girl get a grip (they call this the five G’s). My youngest sister is a Pisces Moon, and as creative as she is, she is pessimistic and overly cynical. I mean I am all for being critical and real but looking at everything with jacked up black sprayed glasses is just too much for me. Other than my sister I don’t know any Pisces Moon very well but I had a few acquaintances. I noticed that they talked about a specific thing and that’s it. I have found them to be amazing at drawing, painting and have an incredible artistic sense. At times twisted and dark, but I love the art that comes with it. I’ll give them a 5/10

Here’s the tea. It’s Pisces season so remember I am sensitive right now, and also it’s my life and I wish I met someone as amazing as you might think you’re. (Maybe that was a little too aggressive)

Okay love you ❤️

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Here's the headcanon-ficlet-thing I promised! Actually, sorry, it's only HALF of my idea. This thing got MUCH longer than I intended and I've decided it would be easier to just chop this whole thing in two. If I ever send another headcanon, it'll either be much shorter than this or I just won't use anon. Anyways, the death of Dick's parents had just been so SUDDEN and I started thinking, "What if Dick had some separation anxiety when he was younger that just... Never really got resolved? His parents were gone, just like that, and Bruce literally risks his life every day. That couldn't have helped my made up conflict either, I imagine." Hope you enjoy! (1/13)

When Dick first arrived at the manor, he'd just been so GLOOMY. Even after Tony Zucco's arrest, he moped around the living spaces and never seemed happy with how spacious the manor's rooms were. A handful of times, Bruce and Alfred had caught him crying in the emptier wings by himself, but they had never really been sure what to do with the kid other than feel guilty. Sometimes (rarely), Dick would seek one of them out for a hug or SOME form of comfort, but it never seemed to be enough to truly make him feel better. It was no secret that Alfred and Bruce were not the most affectionate people in the world, and Dick had come from a very loving place. It was just another new thing to adjust to in his already new, unfamiliar life. Then Dick wanted to be Robin, full time, and neither Bruce nor Alfred could really say 'no.' Dick still wasn't happy- not for a while- but eventually, his mood started to improve. (2/13)

Maybe that was why no one initially found the boy's habit of waiting by the manor doors alarming. It was one of the places he visited more frequently, and Alfred originally assumed it was because he liked hanging on that specific entrance's chandelier more than the others. However, as the weeks passed, it became obvious that it was just a place Dick liked to hang out when he was waiting for Bruce to return from work or patrol. When it began nearing six thirty, the time Bruce's work hours ended, Dick would set up his homework or drawing paper on the floor and work just to the side of the doors as he waited for them to open. Sometimes he'd even hold a handstand or stretch for however long it took Bruce to come home that day. At first, Alfred didn't know what to make of it. But, watching the way Dick's face lit up every time Bruce knocked at the door, the old butler figured the small habit couldn't do any harm no matter how strange it was. He was just happy the boy wasn't still brooding. (3/13)

Bruce also noticed how Dick always seemed to be waiting for him after work, but ultimately didn't find anything concerning about the observation. Sure, it was a little strange to have such a large reminder that he was an actual guardian now, but he reasoned with himself that Dick would grow out of it after a certain point. He decided to just let the boy be and life carried on. Besides, he wasn't Dick's only person of support; Bruce had caught Dick watching Alfred work in the kitchen on a number of occasions with a concentrated look on his face. Without a doubt, the boy was finally starting to adapt to the manor's way of life. (In all honesty, Bruce had probably been too busy being relieved over the old butler's existence to judge whether or not any of his new ward's behaviors could be considered alarming.) (4/13)

As Dick grew more and more relaxed overtime, neither Bruce nor Alfred put much thought into his other developing habits. For instance, as Robin, Dick always made sure to check in with a quick "Are you still there, Batman?" over the comms everytime the line went quiet for more than ten minutes. Bruce would occasionally warn him not to call in when they were on stealth missions, but Dick never quite seemed comfortable with leaving the line COMPLETELY dead whenever they left each other's sight. On those missions, he'd sometimes blow softly into his comm unit, and Bruce would have to make some subtle noise back so as not to completely worry the kid. Dick even seemed to develop certain behaviors around charity events and galas; for example, he would always hug Bruce's pant leg at the beginning of the events and would only let go once he was made to socialize. Despite the fact that it soon became apparent the kid was far from shy, the habit always took place without fail, to Bruce's perplexed amusement. Maybe the kid just hated Gotham's elites? (5/13)

More and more little habits flew under the radar as everyone still seemed to be adjusting to the new lifestyle. Occasionally Bruce and Alfred would pick up on something seeming a little off, but at the same time, Dick finally looked happy. Really, a few weird displays of affection here and there were FAR from their concern so long as Dick's days of endless distraught were over. And so, once Dick finally- and TRULY- settled into the manor as his new home, a bunch of odd behaviors just seemed to be swept under the carpet and ignored. On the unavoidable nights where Bruce got injured in the field, there was no missing how the habits seemed to rise in intensity, but by then... They became the everyday normal and were never addressed. (6/13)

(The Justice League found Robin's behavior more bemusing than anything. Dick was still in the habit of obsessively checking the comms when Batman, on a rare occasion, asked for backup. "Check in, Batman?" "Still scaling the perimeter. We might not catch any activity tonight past a few petty thefts." "Alrighty. And, uh, Superman! Status update!" "Nothing going on up here either, Robin." "Okay!" Ten minutes passed and the boy's voice crackled back to life on the comms once more. "Is everyone still okay?" After that one particular patrol, Clark had sent Bruce a questioning look. "He's nine. Of course he's worried." Clark didn't push it- or anyone else for that matter.) (7/13)

It wasn't until Dick turned sixteen and started looking to be more independent that his behavior finally set off a few alarm bells. His check-ins had turned more snippy over the years when Bruce and him got into fights, but they never really stopped. The arms clinging to Bruce's pant legs at galas were instead replaced by a friendly hand on Bruce's shoulder, yet Dick's presence had never really left his side- only growing more flighty and uncertain as he got older. When Dick did his homework, by then in his last year or two of highschool, it was no longer on the floor but instead in the dining room closest to the manor's entrance- still started at around five or six just like when Dick first arrived at the manor, and still fit to Bruce's work schedule. It occurred to Alfred that a few of Dick's behaviorisms probably should have been checked out a while ago. (8/13)

"When you were Master Richard's age, you were barely home. It's normal for teenagers to want a bit of distance and alone time, but Master Bruce, he only stays after school for club activities. The rest of his time is either spent partoling around the city or helping YOU. I'm worried whether or not his behavior is healthy." Bruce had contimplated these words before giving his own thoughts. At the time, he and Dick's working relationship as Batman and Robin was becoming a bit more strained, but he still KNEW Dick. "I'm not sure, Alfred. He says he's happy with the friends he has, and he's always been relatively well behaved... Could it be that this is just routine for him?" Alfred disagreed and so the discussion continued. However, any plans they made to adress the situation were cut short when Dick got shot in the shoulder. (9/13)

Bruce tried not to feel guilty about firing Dick and then kicking him out of the manor. A little space would be good for the boy, right? For as long he could remember, Dick had always been just around the corner. It was safer this way. He ignored Alfred's angry, dissapointed gaze and Clark's furious demands to explain what the hell he'd been thinking. Batman didn't need a Robin, and Dick would be fine without Bruce. (Bruce would be fine without Dick.) Later, on patrol, there was a second where the comm crackled to life. Before anything could happen it got shut off again, and before Bruce knew it, Dick's check-ins were gone. Batman didn't need Robin. (10/13)

There was no missing Dick's sudden change. With the Titans, Dick's mother henning got turned up to an eleven. Dick was always somewhere in the tower helping someone, and no one could miss the way he was practicaly always asking if anyone needed anything. Missions and patrols ran mostly the same, but it was much more often that Dick could be found staying up late at night, going through evidence on cases he was working on. His friends did their best to be understanding, but there was no hiding the fact that Dick needed help. Real help. They urged him to talk about what was wrong, but even Dick seemed to be at a loss for what he was going through. "I mean, I got kicked out! What else is there to say?" He yelled one day. Roy tried to reason with him. "But there's MORE to it than-" "There isn't." "Dick, you've been acting off for months." "And I'll be FINE in a few more! I'm always fine. Stop worrying." (11/13)

Eventually, they did. After a few more missions, it was as if nothing ever happened. Dick worked as he normally would and he started running off to do his own things rather than hover around other people's projects. He still gave off a sense of brokeness but by then there wasn't much that anyone could do. There had been one week in particular, though, that things just seemed to... Shift. Dick had just discovered that Bruce adopted another kid in the newspapers and there were sightings of another Robin. For a second, he seemed furious, and they all remembered feeling VERY concerned for what the guy might do. For four days straight it was if he was too angry to talk. On the fifth day, Dick disappeared. He wasn't seen again until the next morning. "Dick, are you alright?" Something visibly settled in him and just like that, Dick was fine again. Still overbearing, but fine. (12/13)

Okay! That's all I have so far since I don't want to spam your inbox with any more text blocks for one idea. You probably noticed that this first part just goes over more HOW Dick behaved when he was younger. The second part to this will focus more on everyone realizing that Dick had some repressed trauma going on, and the consequences it's had on him for never adressing said trauma. (Also Bruce, you shouldn't have kicked your teenage son out of the house. That didn't help.) Some of Dick's coping mechanisms when it comes to dealing with Bruce will probably also be questioned, but with the time away from Bruce, don't worry- Dick will be more obviously independent. He knew he wasn't in the best place. I'll send you the second part whenever I get done with it, which shouldn't take too long. Thanks for being excited to read my head canon and ideas! (13/13)

hey babe. this is,,,,,,oh my god. i love it so much. well actually i hated it because it was full of angst and it made me feel emotions and AGH. but also i loved it and god i can’t wait for the next part. you have NO IDEA how much i need the next part.

also, can i just say? the fic portion itself (2-12) is 1.7k words long. with a little editing, this could be a full fledged fic you can post on ao3. you absolutely don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, that’s just an idea i’m throwing out there.

dick with separation anxiety sounds so so plausible, because that abrupt shift from living in a circus to wayne manor of all places must have been QUITE the shift. i really loved how you touched on all these different habits and quirks dick had growing up, and how those bled over into different relationships in his life. and i can’t wait to see how you resolve it.

and i have one more thing for you. this isn’t really the same idea but it’s got somewhat similar elements: i read a fic a while back about dick being touch starved. it seemed up your alley, and anyone else who liked reading this incredible drabble, i think you’ll enjoy reading it! touch starved by envysparkler.

[aclosetfan]

“It’s just so difficult. Everytime we face him and his brothers, it’s a grueling battle of wits.” Blossom sighed, dunking her tea bag into her mug, “I don’t know how much more I can take sometimes.”

Bubbles frowned and really looked at her sister. It was a rare thing to hear her admit. Placing a hand on Blossom’s, she tried smiling, “Blossom, he’s nothing more than just a another bad guy. We’ll figure out how to defeat him. All three of them! We can’t give up hope yet!”

Blossom glared at her mug, and Bubbles bit back a sigh. It wasn’t like Bubbles didn’t love being there for her sisters. She wanted them to come to her for every problem. But Blossom had been sulking about their last fight for a week, and, frankly, Bubbles was getting a little worn down hearing how powerful, and almighty, and impossible her sister’s counterpart was. Blossom obviously didn’t want any advice; she didn’t want her problems solved or thought out. No, Bloss just wanted to...gab and complain in an effort to drown in her sorrows. And Bubbles was the one (always the one) to hear it.

Brick had apparently outsmarted her in a...puzzle? Bubbles didn’t really know exactly. Her eyes had glazed over by the time Blossom had finally gotten around to explaining what the actual issue was. She would have probably paid better attention if Brick had actually been flirting with Blossom. Who knew though, maybe he was in his own special nerdy way, but Bubbles certainly couldn’t parse out anything romantic about the interaction. Knowing the two of them though, Brick’s offense was more likely akin to some odd riddle or clever word play as the two were oftened engaged in doing, instead of physically fighting.

Of course, her and Buttercup had walked away with bruises galore because their counterparts had no need for idle chit-chat, but Bubbles pushed that small annoyance down, down, down. It was getting harder and harder though to shove the idea away. Because if Blossom and Brick one day decided to keep the word play consice and to the point, maybe, just maybe, the fights with the boys would be quicker, and her and Buttercup wouldn’t be so...on the brink of death all the time?

“Ease for you to say!” Blossom finally snorted and Bubbles eyebrows shot up—had she said any of that outloud?

“S-sorry, what?” Bubbles stuttered out, trying not to meet Blossom’s eyes. Guilt flared in her chest. She hadn’t meant to be mean. It was just that when Blossom and Brick got going, Boomer and Butch had more time to fight.

“Defeating Brick is impossible!” Blossom huffed and Bubbles realized, after a moment, that Blossom was referring to her pep talk and not her inner monologue. A small relief in some ways, a bit disappointing in others.

“That’s not true, Blossom.” She countered, “Everyone has a weak spot. You know, I’ve been thinking, we get more flies with honey, right? I think there’s still hope for the three of them, if we just kill’em with kindness!”

Blossom stared at her for a moment, her eyes turning into icy stone, “Brick isn’t Boomer, Bubbles.”

Bubbles couldn’t stop herself from bristling, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Kindness won’t work with him, like it may with Boomer—” She spat and Bubbles raised a finger to protest because kindness didn’t work on Boomer. He just laughed and continued to push her into the concrete, or the brick wall, or whatever he had her pinned down on as she expressed a desire for his betterment. He’d press against her in funny little ways and say odd little things hotly against her ear like good boys can’t do this, though, can they? And, embarrassingly, while Bubbles would rapidly and outwardly disagree with his actions, a hot kernel of something would explode inside of her that, as of late, made her and Boomer’s fights very concerning.

A kind of concerning that she was desperately trying to ignore. But Blossom didn’t know that. Blossom never asked about her or Boomer. She hardly even asked about Butch and Buttercup, and those fights worried Bubbles more then her own.

And Blossom didn’t allow Bubbles to express this once again, as she ignored her hesitant finger of protest.

“—Brick is a challenge—” Blossom explained in a way that implied Boomer was not, “His intellect is no joke.”

Bubbles could feel her cheeks reddening. While she loathed the idea that she felt the urge to jump to Boomer’s defense so quickly, it felt like he wasn’t the only one being insulted at that moment. Boomer wasn’t the smartest, sure, but he talked in ways Brick could never. She had never seen another villian threaten a citizen’s life so easily and then walk away with their number in hand, like Boomer could, in her life. He was dastardly charming. Truly the young man the Professor had warned them about. Hearts were just play things to him. She knew it. He knew it. He knew she knew it. Everyone knew it. And no one but her seemed to care.

“—honestly, you two should count yourselves lucky. I’m the one stuck fighting the toughest of the brothers everytime!” Blossom ranted on and all her thoughts of Boomer instantly dissipated. She regarded her sister and the ridiculous comment for a moment before something clicked in her head.

Because, oh, everything made sense now! All her building anger was for nothing! Blossom had just been joking!

“Yeah, right, Brick’s the toughest!” She giggled along, “You had me going there for a second Blossy! You need to work on your set-up, I thought you were being serious!”

This time Blossom bristled, “I am being serious.”

Her giggling died and she blinked, “Wait, what?”

“Brick is the toughest out of the three of them. The way he thinks, the way he fights...it’s pure precision! ‘Killing him with kindness’—” Blossom finger-quoted “—won’t work.”

Bubbles continued to blink. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed as she thought it over, and then she shook her head in disagreement, “No he’s not.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Brick’s not the toughest fighter.”

Blossom rolled her eyes, “Obviously, I’m not counting Buttercup. Just out of the three of—”

“Yeah, out of the three of them he’s not the toughest. It’s Butch, duh.”

“Well, he’s strong,” Blossom conceded, “but—”

The ugly feeling from before flared in her again.

“But nothing! He’s Buttercup’s counterpart! By default that makes him the toughest!” She argued, interrupting Blossom.

“Muscle mass doesn’t make you the toughest.” Blossom sighed, rolling her eyes again, like she was the one acting ridiculous! Like she was the one elevating her dumb counterpart to the level of an undefeatable god!

“Blossom! Seriously?” She gapped, “you haven’t fought him like I have—like Buttercup does! He’s the toughest. No talk, just do with him. He doesn’t let you breathe, he doesn’t give you an edge, he draws a line in the sand and he’d be damned if you pass it!”

“Brute force, brute strength does not make you the most skilled—”

“Oh my gosh! You can not be serious right now!” Her voice going a smidge shrill, “You cannot seriously think Brick—Blossom! Yes! Butch has that brute force, but Butch is skilled. He doesn’t have to overthink like you and Brick. He has a goal, he accomplishes that goal, there’s no persuading him.”

Blossom opened her mouth to respond, but Bubbles couldn’t stop herself and kept going.

“Like sure, sure!” She conceded, “He’s not playing mental chess with you but that’s because in his mind he’s already won! You’re just in the way! He’s—he’s feral! He fights to win! He—Buttercup!” She called out.

“Yo!” Buttercup called back from somewhere in the house, “Sup?”

“Who’s the toughest brother out of the rowdyruffs to fight?”

There was pregnant pause before Buttercup asked back, “Is this like a trick question or something?”

“Blossom thinks it’s Brick!”

Another pause before Buttercup’s laughter shook the house.

“That twig!” She cried back, “That’s amazing! Good one, Bloss!”

She stared Blossom down across the table and called back to Buttercup, “How’d your last fight with Butch go again, BC?”

Her sister’s laughter died down and she could hear her hum in thought, “Well, I mean, the left side of my rib cage was completely shattered and I pissed blood for about five days, but all in all, I’d say pretty average!”

“Did our favorite green bean let you talk him down?”

Buttercup’s laughter rang through the house again. She was in a good mood.

“Butch? No!” Buttercup snorted, “I couldn’t get a word in edge wise. He couldn’t either. Sort of be distressing if he had, though, given the fact that I broke his jaw! You should have seen how pissed he got!” Buttercup exclaimed, “Right before he killed my ribs.”

Blossom winced, but Buttercup either couldn’t hear it or didn’t bother to pay attention to it as she kept babbling on. The last fight they had with the boys certainly did do a pretty number on their sister, at least Bubbles was comforted by the fact that Blossom would readily agree to that much.

“Oh, well,” Buttercup chirped from the other room, “not the most harrowing victory for side of good, but I’ll get’em next time! Going to break his shins! Can’t kick with no shins!”

Blossom’s frown intensified. She wasn’t one for unnecessary violence. An irony not lost on Bubbles.

“Gotta be quick though!” Buttercup continued out loud, but mostly for her own benefit, “Last time I tried, I lost an arm!” There was a deep sigh and Buttercup spoke up again with a groan, “Wish I knew what was going on in that head of his. Make everything easier!”

“Like remember—” Buttercup continued exceeding her word limit for the day, but talking through a good fight was one of her favorite pastimes “—that one time when I thought he was going for throat, but he dropped last minute and got my knee! What was with that? It opened up his back though, so I was able to—”

Bubbles tuned Buttercup out and turned back to Blossom, “Jeez, Blossy! When was the last time Brick made you piss blood again?

Blossom gave her the driest of looks, “I think you’ve made your point.”

Bubbles shrugged and giggled, “Hey, maybe next time you can fight Butch and give Butters a break, yeah?”

“—and the last time I did that he gouged my eye out! But that’s okay because I ripped something off of him too, I don’t know what, but it was definitely a piece of something. Then I thought, hey why not go for his shoulders! That worked out more or less, less at the time though, helps more now—”

Blossom grimaced, “I’ll stick with the arrogant one, thanks.”

“Now arrogant—” Bubbles tapped her chin in thought, “—arrogant is a good word! Brick certainly is arrogant.”

“Right!?” Blossom’s eyes widened as she nodded her head in agreement and launched right back into it all over again.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

out of time

so this is an original work. and yes, i did tag list it because i want to know if people like it/find it interesting. ive been slowly building this universe for the last like 6 years and i legitimately want to write a novel in this universe and this might be the beginnings of the first chapter. you dont have to read it if you dont want to though.

_____

genre: angst i guess

warnings: implied death/violence, visions that could be interpreted as hallucinations, implied anxiety, distress

words: 2791

editing: yes

*note: the bold and italics together represent talking telepathically (sorry if its confusing)

_____

Lynnie where are you?

Trace counted slowly to five as he waited to hear his sister’s response echo in his head.

Dance floor, came his sister’s gentle voice. Your 1 o’clock.

Trace’s eyes scanned the dance floor below him before finally landing on his little sister. The ancient castle that the Friday night dances were held in was definitely not Trace’s favorite place, but tonight he was willing to put aside his hatred for the drafty candlelit rooms and appreciate the long walkway at the top of the grand staircase for giving him a full view of the room below. His shoulders relaxed as he saw Lynnie on the arm of some boy with too much gel in his hair. Her massive poof of an evening gown glistened like freshly fallen snow in the candlelight as she twirled.

Don’t knock over the punch bowl again, he warned, savoring the uncharacteristic misstep he saw her take.

Oh shut up. He could practically hear her eye roll. What’s up though? Do you see someone?

Trace was certain that nothing was amiss and normally he trusted his instincts, but tonight he took his time scanning the area again, even squinting at the frosted glass windows for good measure, just to be sure he hadn’t missed anything. No, he thought, shifting his weight back and forth subtly so he could feel the small vial tap against his chest. I just have a feeling.

He watched as Lynnie curtseyed, bidding farewell to the boy she was dancing with before navigating her way through the crowd and towards the staircase.

Hold tight, I’m coming.

Trace nodded, unable to formulate a response. His hands were suddenly itching to grasp the vial.

Trace’s Gift was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it helped many people and saved countless lives. But on the other hand, it meant that he had to take a horrifying look into the future, which was often not the happiest place. It wasn’t as if he could prepare for it either, he never knew when his Gift would demand to be felt.

The urge to grab the vial jerked through his body again, jolting him forward into the railing. The room began to blur in front of him and he squeezed the ornately carved wood with such force that he was sure it would break. Lynnie please, I need you, Lynnie please, please, Lynnie-

A hand gripped his shoulder and he jumped, reaching blindly into the inside of his navy blue suit jacket for his father’s knife, cursing himself for letting his guard down.

“Hey! It’s just me! I’m here.”

“Lynnie.” The immediate safety his sister emanated overwhelmed him and he slumped forwards into her unexpecting arms, the knife clattering to the ground, forgotten. Lynnie tensed as she attempted to keep him from drowning in her dress and he distantly wondered if she was worried. Surely she should know that this was just another vision, right? There was no real need for her to worry, the visions themselves weren’t the dangerous part. It was what happened after that she should be worried about.

But then again he had just collapsed on her, and dropped his knife accidentally for the first time since he’d been seven and gotten scared by a mouse that had snuck into the training room. That mouse had been scary, scary scary mouse. But he had just wanted to touch it, touch it, just touch it-

Lynnie’s muttered uncharacteristic string of curse words interrupted his thoughts. “Just hang on a minute Trace.”

Had he said that out loud? Oh no. Even at their worst, Trace had always had control over his visions. He firmly clamped his mouth shut, choosing instead to focus on the pressure of Lynnie’s arm around his shoulder as she guided him into one of the private rooms, away from the people that were undoubtedly staring at the scene he was making them. Hopefully no one would tell his mother about this embarrassment.

Before they could duck into the safety of the room, Trace’s hand unpinned itself from his side and thrust itself at the vial. He struggled against the unseen force drawing his hand towards his neck. “Stop...it,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut forcefully. Lynnie froze next to him, no doubt staring at the spectacle in front of her. Lynnie. He couldn’t let her see him like this, succumbing to an invisible force. With renewed determination he clenched his fist tightly and finally managed to fling his arm back in the opposite direction.

He opened his eyes, unable to hide his relief as he felt the tension momentarily drain from his body. He could control this. All he had to do was get into the room.

He reached out to grab the doorway, ready to pull himself inside and get the vision over with already when the air became still. Too still. He squinted suspiciously, straining his ears for even a snippet of the previously overwhelming noise from the dance below. Trace slowly turned his head down towards his chest, dread overcoming him once again. Screams bounced around his head, imploring him to just touch the vial already! His hands were stuck, floating in the air, unsure whether to listen to his mind or his heart. One commanding voice rose above the rest, drowning them out.  

Look at your sister. What do you see?

Trace’s gaze hardened as he forced himself to focus. Lynnie emerged from the fuzziness, holding up the majority of his weight despite the fact that she was wearing a huge blue sequined ball gown and heels. In that ball gown he knew there were exactly five hidden knives in addition to her white pouch of fairy dust. She was wearing their grandma’s diamond necklace and chandelier earrings, her long blonde hair arranged in an elaborate updo. One of her earrings had scratched the side of her neck and he found himself wanting to reach into his own fairy dust bag and smear some over the minnescule mark. The delicate silvery swirls of her dust marks graced her shoulders and bare arms, their familiar patterns grounding him. Tiny lines puckered up between her eyebrows and around her mouth, the only evidence suggesting she was worried. Her eyes, the same steely blue-green as his, remained unreadable.

No. Look deeper. What do you see?

Trace squinted. There was the tiny scar above her left eyebrow that she had gotten when she was six and trying to shoot her bow for the first time. The arrow had rebounded backwards and smashed into her forehead. He had never told anyone, but looking at his sister’s face frozen in shock with blood gushing out of her forehead had been the first time he had been really, truly worried. The spray of freckles across her nose looked exactly like the ones that littered his mother’s face. She was the only one of all his siblings that shared their mother’s freckles. Her silver hoop earring glinted in the candlelight from its position at the top of her ear. He had given her that piercing at two am in their kitchen when she had been thirteen and their father had said she couldn’t get one. She referred to it as the “first of many acts as a rebellious teen” and so far she hadn’t disappointed. There was the birthmark on her right wrist that looked like an x. She often joked that she had probably been stabbed there in a past life because “x marks the spot.” Everytime she mentioned it he couldn't help but shudder - he did not like the thought of his sister ever being stabbed, no matter what life it had been. She was too important for him to ever fathom losing. Her eyes were set, the determined glint in them reminding him of the way she looked when he proposed a crazy idea to her, except there was something else there as well. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on…

“Trace?”

He snapped back into the present, immediately resuming fighting his body as his eyes clouded over again. “Hm?”

“Are you ready to go inside?”

Strangely enough, he smiled despite the circumstances, finding himself grateful for his sister’s perpetual calm and collected state. She was always so dependable, there without question any time he needed her. He could only hope that she thought the same of him.

He nodded, letting himself be led through the doorway before slumping to the floor, not trusting the bed in the slightest. Who knew what kinds of unspeakable things had happened there.

“I need- it's- the vial, the one around my neck,” he said, quieting the screaming voices clouding his consciousness. “It’s time.”

She nodded in understanding. “What do you want me to do?”

“Pull me out.”

Unable to wait for a response, Trace’s hand snapped up from his side again, this time successfully clutching the vial, issuing a guttural scream as images flashed faster than lightning before his eyes. With every anxious breath the images cycled faster and faster, until he couldn’t see anything but color after color after color until they morphed together to form a murky image.

It was dark. That was all he was able to register, darkness. And water. Somewhere water was dripping, pinging against what must have been a stone floor. A door banged open and a bright white shaft of light splayed in, illuminating the bars of the jail cell in front of him. He shielded his eyes, blinking as he scanned the area. To his horror, when he looked into the cell across from him he was met with a gaunt skeleton person staring blankly back at him, their blue-green eyes empty. But he wasn’t the only one. There was another in the cell next to that, and next to that, and as far as Trace could see in the eerie lighting. He looked back to the person in the cell across from him, inhaling sharply when he noticed red marks glinting on their arms, like dust marks that had been ripped off.

Heavy footsteps echoed off the cells and he craned his neck. Coming towards him was a tall man with clean cut hair. He walked slowly, peering into each cell as he went, but said nothing to its inhabitants. Behind him was a girl with a roughly cut black bob, her silhouette flicking on the wall as if she wasn’t really there. The only thing he could see was her eyes, bright purple against the blackness. She was gone as soon as she had come and it was just the man again. The man was close to his cell now. There was a muffled curse from the cell across from him and something glinted against the man’s all black ensemble, something long and pointy and sharp and-

The dim cell block swirled and changed. This time there was a girl with short hair and blunt bangs dressed in green and brown traipsing through the woods. Peeking out from under her shirt were silver dust tattoos, swirling down her shoulders and arms in a familiar pattern, catching the light in the exposed places. Her brown eyes were heavy as she trekked through an overgrown pathway with shaky steps, a sword sheathed on her back. No, not just any sword. His sword. The family one that had been passed down through so many generations that they had lost track. What was she doing with his sword?

As she came closer he could see a boy trailing behind her, his mouth moving with words Trace couldn't hear. But while the girl’s clothes blended into her surroundings, the boy was wearing a tattered pink shirt that made him stick out against the trees. It was clear that he was bothering the girl, and Trace wondered why she didn’t just ditch him. Tactically, he didn’t seem any more useful than a pile of leaves.

The girl, still ignoring the boy’s rambling, tensed slightly and slowed her pace. Up ahead, two figures had appeared on the path in the traditional green fight clothes, weapons drawn. The girl unsheathed the sword and he saw her flinch as her eyes hardened, the briefest flash of blue in a sea of brown. He opened his mouth to call out but words escaped him as the colors flashed again.

This time when the haze cleared he was outside the castle. People dressed in formalwear were running around him, clinking their various blades against an army of black-clad soldiers on a moon-lit battlefield. Screams and cries echoed against the blooming red sky. Distantly, the raid siren was blaring. Instincts kicking in, Trace felt himself taking a low stance and reaching into his jacket for a blade.

One black-clad figure flew past him, sword drawn, target locked. Trace followed the figure's path as he ran several more steps before smacking his blade against one of a blonde boy wearing a navy blue suit that had obviously seen better days. The blonde boy moved in a familiar manner as he jumped, dodged and stabbed at the blade of his attacker. His skill was apparent, but there was doubt clouding his features. Despite the enemy in front of him, the blonde boy’s sword began to hesitate, deflecting the blows only at the last minute until the opposing blade ripped open his dress shirt, gushing blood onto the cobblestones. The dark figure jumped over the body and onto his next victim, but Trace found himself staring at the fallen boy, his stomach sinking with every breath.

He looked up, scanning the crowd of tattered fighters, half hoping that he wouldn’t see her, that this wasn’t possible. There were too many people, she would never find them. But a path appeared in the chaos there she was, blonde hair coming undone as she ran, shreds of blue ball gown cascading around her as she dodged attacker after attacker, heading straight towards the fallen boy at Trace’s feet.

She sank down beside him, tears already staining her cheeks as she swiftly grabbed his sword and scabbard. She placed a gentle hand on the ripped shoulder of his suit, pieces of her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain, giving her a much needed sense of privacy. But Trace could still see her shaking hands reach down and unclip something from around the boy's neck, fastening it instead to her own. She leaned her face down, lips moving in some inaudible phrase before she kissed the boy's forehead. She stood slowly, keeping her eyes trained on the boy for as long as possible before a shout from somewhere further down startled her and she tore past Trace, away from the battle, down the street and-

Come back to me Trace.

Trace gasped, the bloody cobblestone street and clashing blades slipping away as he was drawn back by Lynnie’s voice. He left his eyes closed, focusing on his sweat dripping off his nose and onto his hands, which were tightly clasped in his sister’s. He didn’t move as he attempted to process the fragmented scenes that he had just witnessed. His eyes grew heavy as he found himself arriving at the same conclusion each time. The Gift never lied, he had learned that the hard way. This time though he couldn’t help but hope that it was wrong. It had to be wrong. There was no way that-

Trace. Breathe, Lynnie’s voice spoke in his head. Thankfully she had the sense not to speak out loud. But then, she always seemed to know exactly what he needed. He should have told her that more often.

Almost involuntarily, he felt his lungs fill with much needed air again and again, pushing his tears pushed further and further down with every breath.

What did you see?

I, uh, Trace paused, not knowing how to articulate what he had seen. Normally he always shared his visions with Lynnie, but this time he didn’t think he could. Well, not entirely. There were still things she needed to know. The time had come and he had to pass the job onto her now. What he needed to say had to be said out loud.

“I know what the vial around my neck is,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion.

Lynnie waited several long moments to respond. “What is it?”

“It’s hope,” he looked up at her for the first time and took a deep breath, holding onto as much of the calm moment as he could. He knew it wasn’t going to last. “Protect it at all costs.”

In the distance, the raid sirens began to blare.

_____

for a culmination of 6 years of work its not the best. but i like the au i created and i would be open to writing fics in that au to develop it more if people want. or i also have like, 2 other characters developed in this universe and if people want i could write about them 

anyway thanks for reading, comments are always appreciated, hmu to be on the tag list

tag list

@fairly-awkward-trashcan

@sun-kissed-star

@racetrackcook

@ughwaitwhat

@aw-jus-let-em-try​

@voice-foundshoe-lost​

@stopthe-presses

@pinecovewoods

@i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing​

@getchapapes

@be-more-chill-evan-hansen​

@stellar-alpaca

@saxoph-ella

@smolcanadiankid​

@disney-princess-sized​

@the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog​

@spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn

@have-we-got-news-for-you

@thatfancyclam

@legoflambwrites​

@albertdasillvaprotectionsquad​

@entschuldigung-bitches

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@tea-and-theater

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@newsies-of-ny

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@deathcast-s

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@hopefully-not-the-ghostbusters​

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@albert-eats-cookie-cake​

@nico-nat

@localfakeitalian

@carryyourownbanner

@writing-makes-me-antsy

@racetrackyeetgins

@panpervinca

[thorsstorms]

Abroad Pt. 13

(Chris Hemsworth x Reader)

Summary: Being the Hemsworth Kids’ Nanny, you were vowed to keep it strictly professional for their sake, but do the stolen glances go unnoticed between you both?

Word count: 4k

Warnings: None

A/N: if you want to be tagged, PLEASE SEND AS AN ASK.

Masterlist

“Okay, I’m going to pick you up after school, and don’t forget your lunch is-” She completely ignored him and went straight to a table with a few other kids and picked out her own coloring sheet from the pile in the middle. He watched confused, almost offended that she was so comfortable with this while his palms were sweaty, drawing against his thighs to dry them.

“Hello! I am Mrs. DeCarlo,” she reached for your hand, and then his next, introducing yourselves. “I have a flyer for you both. It’s just a little bit about me, what is going to be going on in the classroom this year, and all my contact information if need be.”

You retrieve the paper from her manicured fingers, glancing over it seeing a small syllabus along with an email and phone number. You handed him the paper while you called one of the boys back over to you, Tristan was the wanderer.

After some convincing from the teacher that she was going to be fine, regardless of his excuses, you left and headed for some breakfast with the boys. The small breakfast place was enough to remind you of one back home.  The classic breakfast bar seating and the cute red leather booths were feeding into your longing. the aroma of the diner was immediatly making you want a stack of pancakes and sweet tea but you knew it would just make you sick.

Breakfast had not been your friend lately, it was a battle you couldn’t win. If you ate, you would throw it up afterwards, and if you didn’t eat, the nausea would still hit with a headache like you were starving yourself. You ordered a bowl of fruit and picked at some oatmeal, but you knew it was coming. Chris noticed your lack of eating but didn’t say anything, just a sorry look hiding behind his mug of coffee. The steaming was just enough to hide his lingering curious stare and a somewhat paled face while you avoided the food you did want. 

“Papa can you always take Indy to school, and can I always go eat breakfast?” Tristan dropped his fork back on his plate so he could talk to him. The moment was just enough to drag his attention to the mans twinned blue eyes looking back at him. You were always so fascinated by the sentences that they compose in their minds. Always able to see their little gears turning but never know what is actually going on up there.

Chris turned his head towards him when he started, watching him speak. “How about everytime I come home, we can get breakfast. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, turning back to his pancakes. “But, how many times are you coming home for?” Chris was able to decipher what he was trying to say while trying to hide a smirk from his grammar, it was too cute to ignore. 

“Bubba do you remember when I go to work, and I get to fight the monsters?” Tristan nodded as he continued. “Well I only have to fight the monsters for two more years, and then they will be all gone!”

“You have to make them all dead?” Tristan furrowed his eyebrows seeming sceptical.

“Yeah, now you eat your breakfast so you can get big and fight them with me.”

Back home from breakfast, Chris immediately took to the couch in front of the tv and just sat there with the boys asking to play the Wii. After it was turned on you joined him, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch.

“Scoot over,” you asked him, after he took it upon himself to stretch across the couch. A smirk occupied his face when he didn’t move, not one inch.

“Ok you asked for it,” you pulled the blanket around your shoulders and dipped a knee between his legs to bow down. He was now your bed and he wasn’t allowed to complain.

He opened his arms for you to slide into. “You’re not very comfy,” you complained, but it was half-assed. He stayed silent thinking in his own thoughts. He didn't say anything when you picked up one of his hands and drew it up to your hair for him, but instead moved on autopilot knowing what it meant. His fingers dragging across your hair was the melting point of your own will. He didn't need to think about your actions, well, that action at least. 

Into the afternoon, Chris left to go pick her up while the boys were down for a nap, a nap that was getting increasingly harder to maintain. She came in tossing her bag to the floor and talking a million miles an hour about new names you hadn’t heard before, what she did today, how excited she was to go back tomorrow. While you were ecstatic to hear she had a great first day, all it took was one look before she got the gist and picked her bag off the ground where it didn’t belong.

Later that night you got to trail the grocery store by yourself. It may not sound like much, but the silence and calmness of getting to do it alone and not in a rush was almost meditation worthy. Stalking up on lunch things for India, a few items for some yummies that you had pinned, and of course all the basics.

The sound of your ringtone coming from your purse in the basket drew your eyes away from the selection of nausea meds coating the shelves. When you see Bri’s name on screen you almost wanted to mute it and just continue shopping in peace but you knew her too well. She wont stop till you answer or text.

You answered the call and figured you would give her the benefit of the doubt, “Yes?”

“Damn I hope you don’t always answer the phone like that.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes. She says she doesn’t need anything, but she was bored and wanted to see what you were up to. She, of course, likes to get nosey, as always, “So, have you decided to wife him up yet?”

“Bri! Jesus Christ give it a rest would you?” The girl is relentless, she can’t even talk to you lately without needing yes or no answers.

“Yea yea whatever, It’s not like you can have babies for two more years anyway.” Confusion crossed your mind before, oh yeah, she demands you tell her everything, even some super-secret contract details that you guiltily spilled in a moment of weakness about him preparing to leave. Who were you kidding, you can’t hide anything from her. Even though you don’t live together anymore she will prod until there is nothing left to tell, got to love her. Two years till he was able to take a break.

“Well what about you? Actually, I don’t want to know. Just please don’t make me an auntie before he goes to the Major Leagues.” As much as the idea appealed to you, you both knew what Ty’s goals were. A Brewers uniform and nothing less. 

“Well the next draft isn’t until June next year, and even then I would have to wait another year.” You stopped to think about it… that doesn’t make sense. Your math skills were never the best.

“Then just don’t use the same birth control,” you said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “When you go next time just don’t get the bar again.”

“No, you airhead, we just got it again. They last three years.” Excusing the name calling that you were about to return, you corrected her.

“They last four years, Bri.”

“No, (y/n), It’s three,” You stopped your steps in the middle of the shampoo aisle. She continues to tell you off to prove her point. Reminding you how you both got them at the same time from the same doctor when you moved to Gold Coast in the first place. She never slowed, always had to be right. 

You were listening to her rant about how you better have been using rubbers while you stood frozen in the isle, a look of shock and realization tainted your features.

Her rambling about getting it out asap was almost tuned out while you thought to yourself. When was your last cycle?

You couldn’t remember.

“Bri, I think I’m going to be sick.” You replied to her, telling her about how you haven’t been able to eat breakfast lately, the morning when he came home a few days ago. Listening and agreeing, you found yourself wandering back towards the pharmaceuticals.

“Will you come over?” You asked, while eyeing the stupid three boxes in the basket, opting towards the self checkout.

“Yea, I’ll be out the door in five. Just… wait for me.”

After you pulled in the garage you eyed the one bag you brought up front with you. You fiddled with the boxes for a second, deciding on opening them and stuffing the tests in your pants. You hopped out of the car and took the boxes straight to the dumpster before starting to grab a few paper bags to take inside.  At the time it sounded like the best place to keep them till you were by yourself but the immediate uncomfortable poking began.  

Chris met you in the kitchen, grabbing the rest of the bags while you started to put them away quickly. He almost trapped you in the kitchen by pulling a bottle of ketchup from your hands, prompting you with sleeping kids and an empty bed, but you swerved from his hands, yelling back that you would be back down.

You hurriedly climbed the stairs in the most uncomfortable fashion, pulling the tests from your pants and aimlessly looking around for where to hide them safely until Bri gets here. Somewhere out of sight so they can’t taunt you for the next hour. 

You heard the door at the bottom stairs open and you almost jumped out of your skin, quickly shutting the tests underneath the sink in the kitchenette. Standing straight at attention when he emerged from the stairs with an expectant look.

“Uh, Bri is coming,” you said awkwardly, scratching your head. “I wanted to take a shower before she got here.”

“Oh..” He thought about it, taken back as to why she was coming when it was the night before he was leaving. The night he wanted to spend with you. “In the sink?”

You blinked, not understanding the question, “What?”

“Are you taking a shower in the sink? Why are you there if you want a shower.” He looked from the bathroom and back to you leaning against the counter, sensing your weird mood. You took notice of his tone, it got short.

You felt bad for blowing him off. You stepped towards him, trying to get yourself to calm down. You didn’t know anything yet so ruining his mood along with yours was not the plan.

“Will you shower with me?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his waist, planting a small kiss on his chin.

“Hmm. If you insist,” you smiled, reviving his own. “But we are going down stairs because mine is better.”

Bri came into the house to see you scurrying across the living area and past the kitchen in only a white towel and dripping hair. You grabbed her hand and skipped up the stairs with her quickly, feeling nervous all over again.

“Why? What? Where are your clothes? I could have waited! Did you tell him?” She asked.

“No, are you crazy. And by the way, I am pretty sure he is pissed off that you are here,” you dismissed the fact but it didn’t mean that it wasn’t true. “He leaves in the morning and when I told him you were on your way he got moody.”

“Oh he’ll get over it… Where are they?” You pointed to the cabinet under the sink and walked into the room to find clothing. You emerged in leggings and a t-shirt, watching her pull them out. Standing next to her as she pulled them out felt surreal all over again. A wave of panic surging through you at full force from the sight of them.

The feeling of dread came over, flooding behind your eyes, “Bri.” Her name fell like a whine from your throat. A headache was drawing up, one that you knew was self inflicting from the sudden onslaught of anxious thoughts.

You palmed your eyes, taking a second to pull yourself together. Her voice shook you from your own mind. “You are not taking these until you are in the right mind.” She said strictly. “You are not doing this while you are upset. So go ahead,” she motioned towards you. “Get it out now.” She wrapped her hand around your arm and pulled you to the couch, grabbing the plastic sticks of death with her.

You sat across her trying to keep the floodgates under control, so you didn’t say anything at first. “(Y/n) I’m serious, or I’m going to call him up here.”

“Bri I can’t,” your voice was unreliable, “I can’t do this right now. This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen.” You shielded your eyes from her, worried she wouldn’t have the mercy you wanted at the moment. She didn’t say anything, but you felt her wrap her arms around you, tugging you to her.

“I’m not- I can’t do it by myself,” you mumbled into her shoulder taking a shuddering breath.

“What do you mean ‘by yourself’?” The softest voice you had ever come from her was more comforting than you thought.

“He. He’s going to be gone for so much time. It’s my fault. I should have known better. I made him sign the contract Bri. I told him to sign it!” You pulled away from her and drew up the tshirt to try and dry your eyes.

You were officially the person who will ruin his routine repeatedly. How could you have not known that they were only effective for three years before their hormone deposits run out? The answer was that you did know, you were told, it was somewhere in the unknown regions of your mind while your decision making decided that it was four and not three.

“No, this isn’t just you, snap out of that. He knew what he was doing when he signed the contract. Just stop.” You stilled, looking away from her. Whatever form of softness that was previously present is gone from the tone she was using. “Don’t drown yourself in pity. If you really are, and these are positive, then you cant be shoving this stuff on your shoulders. So stop that now,” you nodded, still avoiding her direction when you knew she was staring right at you. “Now what else are you gonna cry about?” The deep breath you took flooded your lungs like a small encouraging hug before you continued. 

“I’m so far away from my family. My mom is going to be upset with me. My dad, oh my god my dad.” The calmness you managed to muster for a moment was broken with a shuddering breath. He always wanted the best for you. Someone to be married to that could provide for a family, and protect his family. You are not married. That’s the first check on the list for your dad. Chris cant be with you all the time. There is the second. You were pretty sure the third strike would be the fact that he is divorced and already has children. Why didn’t you think to talk about these things with your parents while you were home? Because this was not in a plan for either of you.

“You are living with him, if your dad expected anything less then he is being unreasonable. And your mom, sure she’ll worry about you doing this so far from her but dont think for a second she won’t be here if you ask. And they know you, they raised you. They know you are more than capable of doing this, if this is even happening. Which we don’t know yet, by the way.” Her words resonated enough for you to fit in another good deep breath, she was right, as always. 

“Okay?” You nodded, wiping your face again.

After a moment to think, you were ready to take them. As ready as one could be. 

A baby.

You having a baby. Why are you crying?

The reasons to get upset are all so external. It was time you think about the baby that could possibly be your own for once. Not someone else’s. It could be your own little person. Your own to raise, to dress, to teach, and to love. Your own little person to raise without the guidance of other adults telling you what to do. The tears were for the thought of filling the little hole in your heart that was reserved for the child you would one day have of your own.

You nodded to yourself. You could this, you can take them. You can bare the thought of carrying a little baby of your own. Maybe it wasn’t so conventional all the way around, but it would work because it would have to work.

“Yeah?” Bri confirmed your mood, ready. She watched you grab them from the couch and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The bathroom door clicked open, grabbing her attention as you walked out. “I put them on the counter upside down, will you set a timer?” You asked quietly, walking out. She nodded while you sat back down next to her. 

Her eyes held a glossy look with your own. It was selfish of you to throw this on her, to not think of how she was taking this. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for you and you knew it. Your entire lives were spent together, if you were going through the pain, she was going to go through it as well.

You leaned into her for comfort and her hand went to your hair, where she knew you liked it. “This almost doesn’t feel weird for me, if feels like I should be asking you why you haven’t had a child sooner.” You gave her a weird look. “I mean, I know the reason but like, do you know how long you have had baby fever? Since you were like... ten.” You let out a sad laugh in her arms knowing it was true.

“Wow,” she sighed, stopping her hand. “A baby. You and a baby, wow.”

“I know.” You both laid in silence until the timer on her phone went off. The air was still between you both, no one making a move to get up.

“Will you look at them?” You whispered. She agreed while you pushed off of her.

You watched as she grabbed them from the counter and walked back towards you. All three tests were still upside down in her hands as she set them down on the coffee table. You pulled the fluffy blanket off the back of the couch and pulled it over you for some sort of comfort while she sat back down.

“Which should I flip first?” You shrugged at her. You didn’t care, just hoping she would do it already. Your eyes were glued to her hands as she reached for one on the far right. “Ok, I’m gonna do it. But if its positive you have to stay calm okay? If it’s negative you are going down there right now to tell him what just happened.”

“Okay! Just do it! My heart is about to beat out of my chest.” Her fingers reached it and picked it up so she could see it. She stared at it, knowing you were watching her expression.

“Negative.”

It was weird to feel your heart drop. To feel a twinge of sadness flow over your shoulders, down to your chest where you could almost feel the little reserved empty hole in your heart be as hollow as ever.

“It’s-it’s negative? Are you sure?” You took it out of her hands and looked at it. It was negative. There was barely any reading on it at all. “Thats, great. Really. I don’t-”

Your hands fell to your lap. It wasn’t meant to be filled right now. The day will come when it is in your plan, when it is supposed to happen. Drawing your eyes back up to her who was holding both the other ones in her hands. Her brow was tweaked looking between them, back to the one in your own hands.

“What?” You asked. A reminisce of annoyance was sprinkling. It’s not like it was her fault that it was negative.

She moved her hand from her mouth to speak, “They are positive.” She shoved them both into your hands. You flipped them next to each other setting eyes on the prominent stripes on them both. Both of them were positive. You picked up the third in your lap looking at the almost non existent line of its own.

“Maybe it’s wrong. It’s a false positive,” your words stuttered out.

“No! There is no such thing as a false positive, only false negatives.” She grabbed them back admiring them. She was entranced by the tests not noticing your spike in breathing.

“I’m pregnant?” The rhetorical notation flew over her head throwing yes’s at you, repeating the words of affirmation.

~

Chris was down stairs sitting in his bed, ready to send you a passive aggressive text. He wanted you in there with him. To be laying next to him under the blankets like always. With your head sticking out of the top, your hair thrown over the pillow cases.

It had only been maybe half an hour since you hopped out of the shower and ran out and he already missed your presence next to him. The bedroom felt baren without you in it. He didn’t like it.

All it left him with was the faint smell of your favorite body wash that tainted the bedding where you lay night after night, even when he wasn't there for you to feel next to you. 

He erased the words he tried to type out three times. He didn’t want to sound rude, or desperate, or irate. The text box was left empty, shutting his phone off and tossing it onto the bedside table. He had an early morning.

Chris tiptoed up the stairs to your room in the early hours, trying to decipher which lump under the blankets was you and which was Bri. The phone flashlight guided him over a pair of shoes and a pillow thrown on the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the blankets back a bit. The motion of the bed moving and the random light was stirring you awake.

The phone was set on the nightstand, the light illuminating the dark room just enough that you could sneak open your eyes without feeling blinded. You pulled the blanket over your head, though it wouldn’t budge with him holding it down.

“Princess,” his hand pushed your hair out of your sleep ridden eyes that weren’t staying open. You hummed in response. “I have to go.” His voice was a whisper in the quiet room. Just barely heard over the sound of the whirring fan in the corner.

You pulled your arms from under the covers lazily reaching for him. He knew it meant for a hug, bending down to brace himself on the mattress while you squeezed him tight. His face tucked in your neck, giving you a small kiss to the soft skin before pulling away and kissing your lips.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, “even when you blow me off.”

“Im sorry, I love you,” he gave you another squeeze, letting you know he’d call when he landed, before standing up and heading out.

“That was so cute it’s disgusting.” Bri’s tired voice grumbled next to you. You ignored her, settling back under the plush feathery blanket, ready for the moment to be a dreamy haze in the morning. 

“Wait!” She shouted, sitting up in bed. You gasped, knowing what she means by her yelling, throwing the blankets off yourself. You charged out of the room taking the stairs two at a time and throwing open the garage door to see the jeep gone and the door already shut.

“God dammit!” You yelped to yourself.

Why does this kind of shit have to happen to you? 

Four weeks till he would be back. Four weeks till your brother got here with Chaz and his girlfriend. Four weeks you were going to keep this to yourself, between you and Bri only. She is now sworn to secrecy.

You trudged up the stairs, shaking your head at her expectant gaze, answering the question she was asking. You didn’t make it in time.

What did you expect? Him to be ecstatic and leave you with a smile on his face right after you tell him the news? Maybe it was for the best to wait.

~

“I feel like I kind of got the gist over the phone. These are the model bands that I picked out for you.” The soft cloth was littered with different sized bands and several metals. The small clutter of various sized diamonds and a few gems lay still, waiting to be inspected. “These three are a set. Each carry a dainty feel, and together have the most elegant look if you ask me.”

“I like that one too.” Chris’s eyes struggled to keep a gaze long enough on one band, this was a commitment job for his mind that couldn’t pick. He set down the thicker band that was held in his fingertips and reached for her outstretched hand that was sporting the trio. The thin bands were encrusted with the tiniest jewels, enough to catch the eye, but not enough to be obnoxious. “Can the setting be altered if I didn't want the diamond that type of cut?” 

The jeweler marveled at his choice of vocabulary, impressed that he actually took time to look over the catalog she sent with him last time. “Of course.”

“Ok, I think this one will work.”

Taglist: @keithseabrook27 @odinson-barnes  @jonsnowisthesexiestbastard @weekendswithnewtmas  @innerpaperexpertcloud @toomanyflowerboys @thefashioncomplex   @basmaraafat @imaginationintowords @taketimeandappreciate  @superheroesaremytea @vampiregirl1797 @ynm1505 @danathewitchywoman @avengerswhonow @thorfanficwriter @disaster-rose @cap-just-said-language @xmarveled @kemkem101 @chonisberonica @hildehuffles

[she-is-tim]

Neighbours

Lucas is a young, exhausted musician who just tries to relax, while Eliott is the overexcited, dubstep loving artist who lives next door. 

Aka Lucas confronts his annoying neighbour who turns out to be gorgeous

It was saturday, March 9th, late afternoon. Lucas just got home from work, he had a particularly exhausting day, but he couldn’t just lay down and relax in peace. He had a concert coming up next week, so he had to practice on the piano. His biggest wish was to become a famous pianist who has concerts in gigantic theatres in big cities, not just in the local, small theatre with other exhausted musicians.

He sat down in front of his piano, it wasn’t an expensive one, but it had a nice melody that made Lucas heart sing with it. He was ready to start practicing, stretched his arms and warmed up his fingers, but just before he could hit any of the keys, a loud noise came from the other side of the wall.

Lucas took a deep breath and tried to play again, but the noise got louder. That wasn’t music, it had nothing to do with music, because it sounded like a car crashing right into an instrument shop. 

This was just too much for him, work made him stressed enough already, but now his neighbour did this shit. It was 18:30 on SATURDAY for fucks sake. Not like he didn’t just do the same in random times during the week, but Lucas had enough.

He got up from the piano, his chest filled with anger and frustration ready to burst out. He walked out of his apartment and started banging on the door next to his. He might be a small guy, but was ready to wrestle down a whole football team just to get some peace and quiet. 

It took almost a minute or two for his annoying neighbour to finally open the door after he lowered down the music. Lucas was ready to let out all his frustration on this annoying asshole who has no respect for others. He opened his mouth, but no voice left his throat as he could finally see the guy. Tall, pale, messy, dark hair and beautiful, ocean blue eyes, looking like a fucking model. He was wearing light blue jeans and a black sweather, his cheeks were a little red, probably because he danced to this crazy rythm before he opened the door. 

“Oh, hello.” he said with the brightest smile. Was it possible for him to look even more gorgeous? “Can I help you?” he asked in a soft voice. 

Of course hearing him talk didn’t make it easier for Lucas to collect his thoughts that decided to fall and spread on the floor as soon as his neighbour appeared in the door. He coughed, trying to cover his nervousness. How is that possible that he never saw such a beautiful human being who was living right next to him?!

“Your music...” he started, trying to collect the right words to say.

“Oh, you like dubstep too?” he asked excitedly, and Lucas could swear that his smile was bigger than before, making him look like an actual angel. He was never one to believe in such things, but seeing this guy, he could not think of him as someone out of this world.

“No, I just... I mean... Listen,”

“Eliott” he said with such an annoying confidence that made Lucas’ stomach to do a backflip in his body. He didn’t like this at all. 

“Listen, Eliott, I had a rough day at work, so if you could just... stop listening to that music of yours so loudly, I would be thankful.” he said making sure to basically spit out the word music, since dubstep was anything, but that.

Eliott’s face changed a little, the happiness and excitement in his eyes turned into something else. Those bright blue pupils now looked like the cloudy sky before storm. Lucas swallowed and played with his hands behind his back. What the hell is this? Eliott looked at him like a predator who’s about to jump on his prey.

“What would I get in advance?” he asked on a serious tone, which was much much more arousing than it should have been. 

The disastrous gay guy inside Lucas was screaming and running circles in the living room, trying not to faint in excitement. Was this guy really flirting with him right now? 

“Excuse me?” he mumbled, unable to create longer sentences around this gorgeous man. They were stading there for long minutes now and his cologne just crawled into Lucas’ nose to make him feel dizzy. This wasn’t good at all. 

“You could come in and have a drink with me. You can choose the music.” he smirked with so much confidence, that Lucas wanted to slap him in the face and then kiss those cherry lips. He shook his head to get those inappropriate thoughts out if his head. 

Apparently Eliott thought that was his answer to the invitation, cause his smile disappeared, he now looked like a giant, but lost puppy. 

“Okay, fine.” Lucas said suddenly, surprising Eliott and himself too. “Let’s see what music you got.” he said

Eliott now smiled happily and opened the door wide enough to let the smaller boy inside. His apartment was messy, but still kind of organized. Lucas walked to the living room, there was a shelf full of vinyls, DVDs and other stuff, a couch, a coffee table, an armchair and of course the device that let out those horrible tones: a turntable. He couldn’t believe that this beautiful person used such a unique thing to listen to dubstep on it. Eliott had no manners for sure. 

Just as he tried to study the place a bit more, Eliott walked in with two bottle of beers, giving one to Lucas. He then walked to his turntable and stopped the music, looking at Lucas. 

“What do you wanna listen to?” he asked.

“What do you got?” Lucas said, collecting all the bravery he just had at the moment. It was already hard enough not to faint everytime Eliott looked at him with those mesmerizing eyes of his. 

“We can listen to Queen if you want.” he said with a grin. The cheeky bastard.

“Okay, sure.” Lucas said and took a sip of his beer. This was too much, so as Eliott were looking for the right vinyl, he studied the drawings on the wall, some of them were messy, unfinished, some was very detailed, even beautifully colored. There was a lot of them illustrating a raccoon, a very cute one actually. He saw some papers on the floor too with scribbles and scetches on them. 

“So, since I introduced myself to you back then, I’d like to know your name.” Eliott said softly after he put on the vinyl and started to play some Queen now. 

Lucas looked at him, blushing a little, he got lost in his thoughts and totally forgot that he is basically standing in the living room of a demigod. 

“Lucas.” he said shortly.

“Nice to meet you, Lucas.” he smirked and pointed at his couch. “Sit down, make yourself at home.” 

Lucas nodded nervously and sat down, looking at Eliott, who grabbed something white that was sitting on his ear. Lucas didn’t notice it before, but of course it was a joint. This guy was listening to dubstep, looked like he haven’t slept since days, but still manage to look like no other human being, drawing beautifully and smoking weed. At least he is not perfect. Thought Lucas, but as Eliott lit the blunt, putting in his mouth, he had no words that could describe his hotness.

Eliott lazily sat down on the armchair while Freddie Mercury was singing in the background. He blew out some smoke and looked at Lucas with a gentle smile forming on his face. 

“Isn’t it weird that we live next door and have never met before?” he asked smiling.

“I guess we just leave our places in different times.” Lucas said shrugging, like he didn’t find it weird and somehow annoying that he didn’t see this angelic guy before. Eliott chuckled.

“Must be true, I’m usually going out late and coming home around the morning.” he said and smiled, blowing out some smoke again. 

Lucas had never thought that seeing someone smoking could be arousing, especially cause he was never into smoking. He tried it a couple times in high school and it felt damn good to be high as a kite, but somehow he never really got into all that. He wasn’t much of a party person either.

“You must have a chaotic schedule then.” Lucas pointed out after he managed to fight back the urge to ask Eliott to blow that smoke on his face next time. You stupid idiot. 

“You can say that, I make art designs for short movies and stuff.” he explained, while moving his body slowly to the rythm of the music. 

“You seem like you haven’t slept for days, though.” Lucas is cursing deep inside for letting his stupid mouth talk before thinking, but Eliott seems to like his comment a lot. He gets a kind smile and the tall boy blows out a smoke ring. Lucas’ heart skips a beat. 

“I have a big project going on, so I don’t have much time to sleep.” he shrugged and looked at the scetches on the floor. “I want it to be perfect.” 

“I know that feeling.” Lucas said that made the other one smiling even more brightly. 

“You seem like a genuinely cool person. Such a waste we didn’t hang out before.” he said with so much honesty in his voice that made Lucas melt inside.

“Not like I wanna move out or anything.” he started and smiled at Eliott a little. “I won’t be far away if you need company.” 

Eliott put down the joint, blowing smoke out of his nose, looking into Lucas’ eyes like he could see right into his soul. They were staring at each other for long minutes, forgetting about the world around them or the music that was playing in the background. It didn’t feel uncomfortable or awkward, because they both felt something. After a while Eliott broke the connection, lighting his cigarette again, but now offering it to his guest. 

Lucas was a bit unsure whether it’s good or not to accept it and get high with in the living room of his handsome neighbour, but then he just said Fuck it and accepted, enjoying the warm smoke filling his mouth before giving the joint back to Eliott. They were spending hours together like this, Eliott was talking about some nonsense bullshit he had to do last year for a company, then Lucas told a story of a guy that threw up into a trumpet during their christmas concert. 

Time was flying by and they barely noticed that it’s almost 22:00 now, Lucas got up from the couch and smiled at Eliott, who smiled back. They felt free and happy after spending those hours together. 

“I should go back to my place, I have to practice tomorrow.” he explained.

“Can I come over and listen?” Eliott asked suddenly. “I mean I don’t wanna bother you or anything, but I’d really like to see you play on the piano.” he added quickly just to not seem like a creep.

Lucas smiled softly, his heart filled with happiness and butterflies were flying around in this stomach. Eliott was just so pefect, he couldn’t believe he was real.

“Sure, why not?” he said and walked to the front door, looking back at Eliott before leaving. “Tomorrow at 13:00 then?” he asked. Eliott followed him, having a bright smile on his gorgeous face. 

“Sounds good.” he said and opened the door for Lucas. 

As the small boy left the apartment, he couldn’t resist an urge, so he grabbed his arm gently, pulling him back. Lucas was confused, turning back. Eliott had so many feelings inside him that he felt like his chest is going to explode, he had to do something, so he was acting liek there was something in Lucas’ beautiful and fluffy hair, touching it just a little. He smiled at him. 

“See you then.” he said and gently closed the door. 

Both of them couldn’t move from there for minutes, then Lucas finally walked back to his own apartment, while Eliott laid down on the couch. He grabbed another beer, looking at the wall that separated him from Lucas. Tomorrow... I can see him again. He fell asleep with that thought in his mind.

[everythingandeveryplace]

*Thorns part 3 Eric x OC*

He hadn’t been wrong about her smile, it was the absolute only thing on his mind from the moment he watched her silky curls leave his line of sight. Something about her was burned into his system now, he couldn’t seem to shake the way her skin felt under his fingers, even just the tiniest touch of his hands on her waist had his heart beating just a little too fast in his chest. Her skin smelt like vanilla and peaches and laying alone in his bed last night he couldn’t help but wonder if she tasted like sugar, it was maddening really.

This wasn’t him, he wasn’t the type of fool to get caught up in milk chocolate eyes and rose petal lips, he was stronger than that, bullet proof against the charms of a women. Sure he’d had his share, he was in shape, handsome, well put together and dangerously mysterious..his cruel nature seemed to draw the women of Dauntless to him like bees to honey and he used them. They warmed his bed and satisfied a need but that was all, it wasn’t like they weren’t using him too, he was payback for ex boyfriends, karma for neglectful fathers and a challenge to their friends.

But then there was Ella, strong and fierce, damaged and beautiful.. she had seen things he couldn’t even begin to imagine, done things that would scare even the strongest man but still.. she smiled like melted sugar cane and her touch was as warm as early morning sunshine. There were secrets buried deep in her eyes, an unimaginable level of pain that he wanted nothing more than to shield her from, to finally protect the tiny slip of a girl who had spent the last three years fighting.

“She’s mine.”

The clang of metal hitting metal had Eric’s eyes lifting from the tablet in his hand, pulling himself back to reality he stared blankly at Luke, the shorter boy dropping onto the bench across from him, a dreamy far off look in his eyes. Elliot followed closely behind with Deema and Four slid into the spot beside Eric rolling his eyes.

“You wish. Dude, she literally took like eight steps away everytime you came close. She wants me. Did you not see the way she smiled at me when I gave her that hand wrap. That’s it, no one else stands a chance.” Elliot grinned smugly, his arms exposed in the sleeveless tank top he was wearing. Funny how Eric had never seen that shirt before.

“She’s amazing dude, I can’t believe you missed it. That Ellarose is like everything I ever imagined and so much more, max assigned her to combat training with the new initiates and we all got to sit in and watch. She’s so focused and get this.. she broke the dummy.. snapped it clean off its base. I think peter almost shit his pants when she asked for a volunteer.” Deema chuckled.

“Her only disadvantage is her size, she can easily win any fight but if she’s caught by surprise or her attacker manages to grab the upper hand, which is rare for her, they would be able to easily grab her and crush her.” Four nodded from beside him.

“Her size is an advantage as well, she’s underestimated. She was factionless for three years, and one of those years she wasn’t even part of the army and she still managed to overpower all of them.” Eric snapped, he felt a strong urge to defend Ella, he didn’t want anyone thinking they had a reason to doubt her.

“You did your research.” Deema teased tossing a grape at him from across the table, Eric caught it easily and popped it in his mouth rolling his eyes.

“Of course I did. She’s one of us now..you jackasses heard she didn’t have a dick and you were ready to hand over your guns.” He scoffed.

“I’d give her anything, I’d give her my last name if shed let me flip her over..” Elliot started

“ENOUGH.” Eric barked, it was loud he knew that, could almost feel it in his throat but he didn’t care, he didn’t give a shit when all eyes locked on him in the mess hall. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.” Luke’s eyes widened before narrowing

“What the fuck dude? You haven’t even met her yet.. you don’t get to play the “I respect women” card when I say you in the training room bending Lauren over the weights with your hand over her mouth three nights ago.” He hissed.

The memory of that night was long forgotten, he had been drinking and he was so damn tired and Lauren was there, she was always there following him, watching him. He had been on his way home after a workout when she walked in with her long blonde hair and barely there shorts, Lauren had finished bottom of her class the same year as Eric, her father was a leader at Dauntless and that’s the only reason she had graduated. She was sexy but she was weak and desperate, he hadn’t even taken off his hand wraps before her hand was deep under the waistband of his shorts. He didn’t remember much of it, he couldn’t even look at her during or after.

“You might want to cut this argument short. Look who just walked through the door.” Four nodded towards the open doors where Ella was standing somewhat awkwardly, her mess of curls pulled back into a braid, loose strands brushing across her cheekbones and the tight black tank top she wore exposed the scribbled writing on her collarbone, he couldn’t quite make it out.

“Let’s ask her to sit with us!” Luke beamed, standing for a moment to wave excitedly, Ella’s eyes instantly fell on Eric’s table, a shy kind of soft smile gracing her lips until she caught sight of Eric. Her whole body loosened, he saw the way her shoulders dipped and her head cocked to the side, her fingers that had been balled tightly dropped to her thighs and smoothed the fabric of her pants before she started towards the table.

He was already shifting to the side to make room when Ella was intersected by an incredibly excited Tris practically bouncing on her heels to meet the girl that everyone was talking about. He couldn’t quite hear the conversation between the two girls but he could make out Ella’s gentle laughter and Tris’ warm compliment.

“I am so happy to meet you! I’m Tris Prior. I wanted to come see you before we welcomed the new recruits but I got stuck with paper work, you’re kind of an inspiration to a lot of the girls and women here.” She grinned shyly, her blonde hair was pulled back with a headband and her green eyes look extra large.

“Oh gosh, that’s so kind. Thankyou. I’ve heard about you, you were the year above me. You had the fastest time in beating your fear simulation, I was always amazed at how quickly you could get out.”

That was all Eric heard before she was shuffled away to sit at the table halfway across the room with Tris and Christina and a few of the other female dauntless trainers.

“Dude.. your girlfriend is actually the worst.” Luke pouted, plopping down to sit back in his seat.

Four just chuckled

“I’ll be hearing all about her tonight I’m sure. Tris has been crazy excited to meet her. Looks like Eric here is just going to have to wait his turn like the rest of us.” He clapped a hand to the muscular mans shoulder before turning to Deema to continue there conversation.

“You’re not getting this one Eric.” Elliot said from across the table, an almost angry grimace on his lips as he squinted with narrowed eyes “she’s not going to fall for whatever games you play, she’s smarter than the bimbos you hook up with. Don’t even bother. This ones mine.”

It took everything he had not to lunge across that table and wrap his fingers around the cocky boys throat, he would have given anything to watch the color drain from his skin and his eyes pop out of his head.

But he didn’t.

Eric simply stood up, brushed his pants off and walked directly to the door. Tension radiating off of his shoulders, he couldn’t deal with this right now, he had recruits that couldn’t hit a target if you shoved their face in it, Max was breathing down his back about planning a factionless ambush and Four and Tris wouldn’t stop trying to set him up with “a nice girl.” His life was anything but settled right now.

So four hours later when he was sitting against the open door of the immobile train he nearly murdered the subtle footsteps that he heard moving behind him.

“Deema, I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m not depressed or in need of your mental guidance I’m just tired and I needed a breather. That’s all.”

“Sure is a pretty place to breathe.”

The distinctly feminine voice had him twisting around, he couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes looked like the deep soil that lined his backyard when he was a kid, they were so rich and dark. She moved to sit beside him, her leg pressed against his in the cramped space.

“Deema told me I could find you here. I missed you at training this morning, they stuck me with combat. Good thing though, I suck at weapons.” She chuckled, face turned to the setting sun.

“No shit?” He asked, genuinely surprised. Ella turned to him then nodding loosely.

“God yeah, I can throw a knife like no ones business, that’s easy. It’s the guns and rifles that freak me out. It’s like I see them and panic. They didn’t have many weapons in the factionless. Bombs though.. those are my specialty.” She winked.

“So I’ve heard.” Eric smiled for the first time since he’d left the mess hall, Ella’s gentle and teasing disposition making it easy to relax.

“You have beautiful eyes.”

Blushing was not a word you would ever imagine to use in the same sentence as Eric Coulter but at the tiny warriors words he felt the deep flame of his cheeks spread all the way down to his toes.

“Shut up.” He shoved her shoulder, laughing softly when a dimple bearing smile broke through her face.

“Oh you know it.” She teased “you know how good looking you are, you’re the talk of Dauntless. The brooding trainer with the fire ash eyes. Girls drool when you walk by Mr. Coulter.”

She was staring at him now, he could feel her gaze on his skin eyes tracing his tattoos.. examining him, inspecting him.

“I can’t figure you out.” She whispered.

His eyes snapped to hers

“I’m an open book.” He joked, watching her as she watched him.

“They say you’re mean.. cruel even. I was going to stay away from you. Lord knows I’ve been around enough angry in the last few years. But you’re not cruel..”

“Yes I am.” He cut her off, for the first time in his life he regretted how the truth felt falling from his lips.

“Not to me. I know cruel and you aren’t cruel. determined, strong.. maybe jaded and bitter but not cruel.” She looked away, eyes trained on the peach and honey setting sun.

“And you?” His fingers brushed her knee before settling over the smooth black fabric. “Are you cruel?”

Her eyes followed his fingers, before she dropped her own hand over his. She shrugged tiny shoulders and looked up

“I don’t know what I am anymore.”

He didn’t like that look on her face, confusion, hurt...lost. He moved calloused fingers to soothe the scrunch between her eyebrows, trying to ease just a little of her anxiety.

“You’re Ellarose, you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

She stared for a moment, a flash of something In Her eyes before she nodded just slightly

“Tris invited me to dinner at her and fours apartment tonight, I said I would go. She said you might be there?” It wasn’t a question, he would be there.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll be there.”

He wasn’t missing a chance to be around her

He couldn’t.

[lgbt-kpopimagines]

Highschool Crush (Monsta X’s Lee Minhyuk x male bottom!reader)

Requested by @anineedds

Rating: PG

Written by: Admin N

„Hi everyone, my name is Lee Minhyuk and I just transferred to Sejong Highschool this year! I will be your classmate from now on! I hope we will get along well, let’s have a good time together!” Our new classmate smiled brightly at us, and I felt my heart jump. He did not only look stunning, but his confidence brimmed over and seemed to radiate right up to my desk in the middle of the classroom. He happily took his assigned seat somewhere in the back and I could hardly fight the urge to turn my head around.

“Gosh, did you see him?”, I whispered to my friend Yelim. “He’s gorgeous!” She grinned back at me.

“Then you’ll have someone to stare at the whole schoolyear, Y/N.” She snickered and went back to turning pages in her organizer.

********

Minhyuk quickly gained popularity and integrated himself within a few weeks. It felt like he had been our classmate for years already. He seemed to be popular with everyone in our year. One day during lunchtime I was eating with Yelim and another friend, Jihoon, as Minhyuk walked in, surrounded by a crowd of people, all of them laughing and cheering. I stared at him and felt a bolt of jealousy flash through me. I picked at my noodles. Why could I not be among them, laughing at his jokes?

“Man, he got quite popular, that Minhyuk guy…”, I mumbled. Or why could he not sit with me and my friends, instead of being with those ‘popular kids’?

“Have you talked to him already?”, Jihoon inquired.

“I heard he joined the acting circle.”, Yelim said. “People say he’s so funny.”

“He is!”, Jihoon said to my surprise and smiled at me. “I ran with him during the track and field sports class last week. He turned up out of nowhere, kept rambling about how much he loves pizza and dislikes being in water and then tried to convince me he’s fluent in English. He didn’t shut up even though we were going quiet fast, but the class became rather funny with him around.”

My friends both knew that I had some kind of interest in Minhyuk, as I couldn’t help but bring him up as a topic at every given time. But them talking about him didn’t help me at all, it just made me feel more socially awkward.

“You should try to talk to him!”

“I don’t know what to say.” I shrugged. “He’s so cool, and I’m just…” I shrugged.

“He’s your classmate, you fool, not some kind of popstar!”, Yelim said. “Just get your shit together, or you’re going to crush on him for the rest of the year and he won’t even know your name!”

I blushed, why did she have to be so strict? “I’m not crushing on him…” Haha, no, not at all. Damn, how right she was….

******

“He doesn’t even look at me!”, I complained. “Does he actually know I’m in his class?”

“Who?”, Yelim asked and I hit her with my physics book. “Guess who!”

“Your crush.” She snickered. At least, she wasn’t all over Minhyuk as well, unlike most of the other girls. Tastes were different, she said. Everytime I saw him surrounded by a group of people, mostly girls, I just wished he would abandon them and walk over to talk to me. Why did I have to be so shy? Why?

“There he is.”, she said and pointed down the hallway. “Wow, he’s alone.”

“Where! Oh god, don’t point!” I nudged her with my elbow and grew nervous, as Minhyuk walked in our direction indeed. Not followed by anyone. Yelim rolled her eyes and hissed: “Just act natural, holy sh-!” Minhyuk walked past us, turned his head, gave us the brightest of smiles and waved with both hands.

“Hi classmatessssss!”, he hummed and I barely had time to wave back and give an awkward smile, then he was already gone, heading for the boy’s washroom.

I felt my friend side-eyeing me.

******

“So for this term’s physics project, you are going to form teams and build a small toy car, which should be driven by a mousetrap”, our teacher pointed at the traps on her desk, “and an electromagnet! You should wrap the coil for the electromagnet by yourself. Please follow the instructions for the projects on the handout I just distributed. Now please draw a number from out of here…” She handed a small cardboard box to the first student in the front of my block. “Matching numbers will be a team.”

The usual noise spread, like always when students are allowed to work on their own. I glanced at Minhyuk sitting in front of me and Jihoon. Man, I wished I could be teamed up with him. Then we could finally talk, and he would know I existed.

I was last to pick in my block, then handed the box over to the other block of students. I had drawn the number 10. Before everyone in class had even taken their number, people started moving around to find their partners.

I watched Minhyuk get up. I wondered which-

“Who has number 7?”, he shouted cheerfully. “Who’s my lucky teammate who hopefully knows more about physics than me?” Disappointed, I stared at my piece of paper with the 10 on it. Only to have it ripped from my fingers by Jihoon the next second and getting a piece with “7” on it shoved into my hands.

“Oh, Y/N has 10! Here!”, my friend grabbed my hand and rose it up. I was thunderstruck, but I managed to keep my hand up in the air by myself and smiled at Minhyuk as he spun round to me.

“Awesome!”, he exclaimed and motioned me to sit next to him.

“Thank you.”, I whispered to Jihoon, who had already started to look for his matching number 10. I only heard a muffled snorting from him.

“So, hi, I’m Lee Minhyuk. I’ve seen you many times but we never spoke to each other so far, right?”

I think I was the happiest person in the whole room - he actually remembered my face! Nothing was lost.

“I’m Y/N, nice to finally talk to you.”, I introduced myself to him. “I heard so much about you, but I never managed to talk to you-“, I stopped as I realized that I beamed at him - I didn’t want to show how big of a crush I had on him. But Minhyuk just smiled back at me brightly and warmth rose up through my stomach and into my cheeks.

He pointed at the handout. “Our car will become super great, right!”, he stated full of confidence. Then he leaned in. Mimicking him, I did the same. It felt exciting to get so close to him, as if we were already friends. “You know, actually, Physics is my worst subject. I’m more the Biology-kind-of-science-student.”, he whispered.

I grinned. “Don’t you worry, Physics is actually my best subject.” I gave him a thumbs up.

He grinned back and gave me two thumbs up. “I think I like you, Y/N! Maybe I’ll understand better if you explain that stuff to me.” He winked and I blushed.

“Haha you’re cute actually, aren’t you!”, Minhyuk laughed and made me blush harder. This was going to become the best science project I had ever done!