#literally all i could do is laugh like what are you saying

[rcmclachlan]

8x06 fix-it fic: Amnion

Buck doesn't bounce back from Tommy the way he did with all his other breakups for reasons he can't articulate or even look at. He thinks of how long it took him to recover from Abby, but even that felt different, because he'd had hope carrying him through most of it. He doesn't have that now.

The worst part is it's bringing everyone else down. It's starting to affect the job, and he can't take any more of Bobby's pity dinner invites or the kid gloves Eddie handles him with. Then one day, Chimney (in an attempt to lighten the mood) asks Buck if he's pregnant, and it awakens some primordial rage in Buck that he never knew he possessed and damn near rips off Chimney's head about it.

But once the blood levels in his adrenaline start rising and he calms down, he starts thinking about it. Before he knows it he's thinking about it day and night, and now that's starting to affect the job more than his heartbreak had been.

Then one night Maddie invites him over to watch trash TV and eat junk food until they can't feel feelings anymore, but instead of the patented Maddie Hug he's expecting, she hands him a First Response test stick the second he walks in the door.

Five minutes later, he comes out of the bathroom pale-faced and dripping tears because there are two lines in the test result window, and Maddie leads him over to the couch where they curl up and cry together. Just like the old days.

Maddie asks if he's going to tell Tommy, but there's no judgment in her voice, like she's behind him no matter what he decides, and Buck tries to make her laugh when he says, "How do you know it's his? I could've been living it up for the last month. New person almost every night. Exploring myself."

She just gives him a Look. Also patented.

Under the weight of her scrutiny, Buck thinks about Tommy's face before he left the loft that night and how ''Buck'' looked and sounded so wrong coming from him. Like the shape of it was so painful he could barely move his mouth around it.

Finally, he shakes his head. His eyes well up with more tears, which feels impossible, because the human body can't possibly produce this much liquid. He's going to drown them both. "I thought... I thought we had a future, Maddie. I really did. I guess I still get one... but only with part of him."

A couple of months pass and Buck's entire world shifts. The 118 have rallied around him in a way that almost feels like they're closing ranks to every other firehouse. Eddie becomes especially protective and devises a 5000-point care plan that makes him twitch if Buck so much as thinks about deviating from it, but he also keeps telling Buck that he needs to tell Tommy about the pregnancy.

"If only to get his family history," Eddie says reasonably, but there's something pleading in his voice every time, like there's so much more under the surface that he's trying to keep under wraps. Like there's more about this that he thinks Tommy should know.

Chimney's in the middle of explaining why he's stealing the cool uncle crown from Buck and sitting pretty on the throne when Buck asks him about it.

"Is there something about Tommy that no one's telling me?"

It trips Chimney up. Literally. He just barely catches himself from going headfirst into the kitchen counter.

Buck's heart starts pounding. "Chim, does he know?"

"No," Chimney says, firm and almost a little offended. "We promised you we wouldn't say anything. But Buck... you should tell him. You should talk to him."

Part of him wants to whip his phone out right then and there and dial Tommy's number. He could do what he did the first time: ask to meet somewhere and laugh about bad coffee and plead his case for a second chance. He could reach across the table for his hand, but this time, he'd stand up and walk over to Tommy and place it on his belly. "I don't care about firsts or lasts," he'd say. "I care about only's. And you're the only one I want."

But the other part of him, still licking its wounds, hormones in flux and forcing organs to shift and bend as it makes room for the thing he and Tommy made together, bares its teeth and snaps, "He made it very clear that he had no interest in hearing what I had to say."

Chimney never brings it up again.

Meanwhile, Hen goes a little overboard with forcing him to undergo random physicals—she pops out of the shadows twice a day to ambush him with the blood pressure machine, and he keeps threatening to avoid rooms that have doors—but he loves it. His body is a complete stranger to him for the first time in a long time, but the changes he's experiencing are interesting and he's having a blast cataloging every new one. He and Hen have a spreadsheet with like fifty tabs, and she helps him navigate every test his actual OBGYN sets him up for.

He's over her house at least once a week, although pregnancy talk at the dinner table is verboten.

"If one of you says the word 'amniocentesis' one more time, I will start a food fight," Karen had said, finally putting her foot down. Across the table, Denny perked up.

As much as he hesitates to even think the Q-word, it's a pretty quiet pregnancy. The cravings are kind of wild, though, and he goes most of his first trimester feeling like he's going to die if he can't eat rice krispie treats with cottage cheese. Every time Bobby sees him cracking open another container of Hood, it looks like he's seriously reconsidering sobriety.

But as incredible as they are about the pregnancy, they're all tiptoeing around the other elephant in the room: when Buck is going to stop working scenes. He and Bobby have a series of discussions that satisfies neither of them and resolves nothing, and it builds to a big blow-out that ends when Bobby tearfully begs Buck to stop risking his own life and the life of Bobby's grandkid.

After that, it's like some stone thing in him dissolves into sand and he finally eases back a bit in his fifth month. He doesn't put up a fight when Bobby orders him to only handle the winch or stick with hose duty, and if he stays a little closer to the engine because he gets winded so easily these days, no one comments on it.

In his sixth month, the inevitable happens: there's a call out at Palos Verdes and it's all hands on deck, which means the 217 is there too. At first he thinks he might make it through without running into Tommy at all, but he turns a corner and—there he is. Smudged with mud and looking like a drowned rat because of the downpours, but in his turnouts he's big and capable and, for a second, he's walking into First Presbyterian and apologizing for missing the ceremony.

But the memory is easily wrestled back into the past the second Tommy's gaze fixes on Buck's belly.

Buck wants to stage a retreat that would make the Allies at Dunkirk stand up and applaud. He wants to throw his arms open so Tommy can get a better look at it, say something cool and mean, like, "Did you know that INNOTEX makes turnouts for carriers these days? Pretty progressive of them, if you ask me."

He wants to be weak and ask if Tommy will spare him a hug. Just one. Nothing greedy. Just—a moment to soak in his warmth, to inhale the smell of his skin. Enough to carry him through the rest of it.

But he does none of that. He inhales through his nose, lifts his chin, and says, "Firefighter Kinard."

At that, Tommy smiles, and it's completely awful. There's no joy in it. Not even amusement. He looks like he wants to be sick, and Buck feels like a monster.

But Tommy swallows and says, earnest as anything, "Congratulations. I-I knew you'd find it. I never doubted for a second that you'd find the person who'd be your last."

Even as he says it, Tommy's face does something indescribable, but it rips through Buck's chest and shatters his ribs, tearing through pericardial layers until it scores the vulnerable muscle of his heart. It's so shocking that it almost knocks the truth right out of Buck's mouth.

Someone comes over the radio and requests all available first responders with flight experience to report to the B-zone, and Tommy straightens up and locks whatever it was away.

With an unsteady hand, he tips an invisible hat to Buck and says wryly, "Firefighter Buckley," before jogging away.

And Buck stands there like an idiot watching him go. It's that night all over again. It's Buck instead of Evan.

"See you around," he whispers, and then runs back to his post in the A-zone.

+

Tommy gets the call when he's halfway through a burrito foisted upon him by Dana, who had taken one look at him and said, "You look like a flood victim. Eat something before I get HR involved."

He'd taken a mutinous bite and couldn't argue with her. Months later and it still felt like he'd watched everything he loved wash away with a tide he couldn't fight. Except he'd sent the tide himself. He had no business feeling like this.

But they send him to the site of a car accident where a pregnant driver had been T-boned by some asshole who ran the red light, and the RA unit called to the scene didn't have the right equipment to assess the fetus. But the victim's belly was hard enough to warrant a med evac.

By the time Dana gets the victim loaded on the backboard and inside, Tommy's already on with both First Presbyterian and LA General to see whose neonatal surgery team is available.

The door on Tommy's side slides open and Tommy turns in his seat to ask what the hell Dana's doing over there, but it's Hen who's pulling herself inside.

His stomach clenches with dread. "Hen?"

"I'm riding with you," she shouts, taking the headset that Dana gives her.

He looks just beyond her and wishes he'd had the presence of mind to listen to the manifest when Dana had read it aloud to him, because Evan Buckley is strapped to the gurney and looks like he's on a completely different planet.

"Hen." Tommy can't hear him say her name, but he sees Evan's mouth shape the word. Evan reaches clumsily out for her with one hand while pressing the other to his belly.

Hen murmurs something to him that the comms can't pick up, and Tommy wonders if they've notified Maddie, if they've notified the father, whoever they are. If they're already at the hospital waiting for them. If Tommy will have to see them, talk to them face to face.

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek until he feels the hot wash of blood over his tongue, then forces everything down to join the burrito from earlier that really wants to make a reappearance. It isn't his right to know any of it. That went out with the tide, too.

He locks it down tight enough that he gets them into the air so easily they might be a feather on the wind, then he heads in the direction of First Presbyterian. The real start of it all.

They're maybe halfway across the city when Evan shouts, desperation and fear carrying his voice over the rotors, the words sliding together, "Hen, check Nora! Y-Y'need to ch—"

"Nora's fine, Buck," Hen says, her voice clear as a bell in Tommy's ear.

Staring at a skyline he can't see, Tommy says, "'Nora'? Was someone else in the car with him?"

When Hen comes over the comm, her voice is as inescapable as a flood. "Nora's what he decided on for the baby. It's her name."

Tommy's hand tightens on the cyclic so the way it starts shaking won't be so obvious. "Nora was my grandmother's name."

He'd told Buck about the woman who was basically the only family he could stand, who was responsible for not letting him become his piece of shit father, who accepted him when no one else would. She'd meant the world to him. She'd been the world to him. And for Evan to give his kid her name—

Realization hits like a levy breaking, and he turns to look wide-eyed over his shoulder at Hen, because it can't—he couldn't be—

"Patient, male, 33, prenatal course complicated at 8 months gestation," Dispatch had said.

The timeline is right.

Hen stares right back, as good of a confirmation that he could get outside of a DNA test.

Without breaking her gaze, Tommy tells Dana to take over. She gives him an unreadable look but says nothing except, "Copy that," and smoothly resumes their journey while he squeezes into the back. There's hardly any room next to the gurney and his knees are compressing his lungs, but he takes Evan's' hand and stares blankly at the shiner forming around his right eye until Hen breaks the silence.

Why didn't you tell me, he wants to demand, but he knows that if he so much as opens his mouth, he's going to start screaming until someone sedates him.

"For the record," she says, "I hate what you did. I hate what you took from him. But I understand why you did it."

Tommy rolls his lips inward and wants to suffocate himself to death. She understands? Does she? Does she know a life can be obliterated in the span of a minute? Does she know what it is to live a half life, to walk through the world like a five-year old drew a scribble on a blank sheet of paper that was supposed to be a person?

Does she know what Evan looks like when his joy is sucked away? Because Tommy does. She hates what he did? No one hates what he did more than him. No one hates him more than him.

Shakily, he lifts his other hand and touches the tips of his fingers to Evan's birthmark, which used to know the touch of his lips so well that Evan would joke that it was actually in the shape of Tommy's mouth print. Like a brand.

He forces himself to inhale. It seems impossible that Evan's here, carrying their child, their Nora. Evan used to say the lightning strike gave him super powers, made him invincible, and Tommy's ashamed to admit that he almost believed him. It seemed like nothing could ever bring Evan Buckley down, but here he is in Tommy's sky, halfway to Heaven already.

He glances at the LifePAK—where Evan's life has been concentrated into a series of lines and numbers, the reading strong despite everything—and then looks back at Evan, who is still the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen even now.

"Evan," he chokes out.

There's no answer. At least not from Evan.

Across from him, Hen breathes through her nose and then quietly says, "I'm only going to say this once, Tommy, so I hope you're listening. If you can't trust him to know what his own heart wants, then this flight will never have happened. When he wakes up, you will not have been here. I'll change the manifest myself."

Tommy closes his eyes. Something hot spills down his cheeks.

"I know things haven't been all sunshine and roses for you. Lucy's said you've basically shut down since it ended. I know you're hurting just as much as Buck is... which is why I'm telling you: be sure. He's going to have enough on his plate without worrying about whether or not you're going to swan out of his life again. You need to be sure, Tommy."

Tommy doesn't say anything, but he opens his eyes and holds her gaze without flinching, and he tightens his hold on Evan's hand.

The rest of the flight passes in the kind of silence that feels like a cyst was lanced. Or maybe a boil, as it were.

+

Buck wakes up in stages to find he's in a hospital bed, and when he puts a hand on his belly it's smaller and almost deflated beneath his palm. He is just starting to hyperventilate when suddenly Tommy's there, murmuring to him, "You're okay. Everything's okay, I promise, she's fine. She's fine. Look."

And Buck, heart racing, forces himself to breathe slowly while he follows Tommy's gaze down to the bundle in Tommy's arms. Then he stops breathing altogether.

"She's fine," Tommy says. "A little early, according to the doctor, but absolutely fine."

Buck collapses back to the bed and weeps in relief, because she's fine. She's here and she's fine and she's perfect. Tommy gently places her in Buck's arms before retreating to the chair next to the bed which has a dent in the vinyl in the shape of his ass.

But Buck is enraptured with Nora, who smacks her lips in her sleep, and he marvels aloud, "She has my mouth."

"Thank God for that," Tommy says with a laugh. "It'll help take the focus off my nose. Poor kid."

It hits Buck like lightning that Tommy is here. He's in this room and talking about Nora like—like he knows. And there are things Buck should probably be saying, like apologizing for not telling Tommy about her as soon as he found out, or asking why he's there at all, but the words are crowding in his mouth and he can't figure out which ones should go first.

Tommy's lips twitch in a smile that is awful to look at, like he completely understand Buck's struggle, but his voice is soft and even when he says, "I need you to know that it wasn't about you. Not you personally. It never was."

Buck stops trying to speak and just stares at him, because that is bullshit, and oh, he knows which words should come first, and he opens his mouth to release them into the wild but Tommy holds up a hand.

"I know," he says. "I was a coward and an asshole, and I'm more sorry than I can possibly say. I won't ever be able to make up for what I did. But I need you to know why I did it."

And, in fits and starts before he finally finds the thread, Tommy tells him about Jeremy.

After Tommy ended things with Abby and then finally came out, he dated around for a long time before he met Jeremy, who was brilliant and fun and new. Tommy was the first man Jeremy had ever been with, and Jeremy was the first person Tommy saw a future with. He'd been so sure about Jeremy. He'd believed that Jeremy was it.

Until, almost two years in, Jeremy ended it. He'd sat Tommy down and said kindly, cruelly, "You're amazing, Tom, but you're just the first. You can't be my last." And then he'd left Tommy completely shattered in the rearview.

"That night, when you asked me to move in... it was like I was watching him put on his coat all over again," Tommy says shakily. "But what I felt for you was lightyears beyond anything I felt for him. I'd fallen so hard for you that I knew if I had to watch you walk away I'd never get up again."

Buck stares at Tommy, eyes rimmed red, and says, "So instead you made me watch you walk away."

It must land like a fist because Tommy exhales sharply and hangs his head, bowing around the pain. He sits like that for a moment, absorbing it, before he lifts his head and nods. "Yeah. That's exactly what I did."

There are deep, dark circles under Tommy's eyes that speak of a hundred sleepless nights, and his body is sharper, leaner, trimmed entirely of anything soft. He's made entirely of angles. He's so unfairly hot. He's miserable to look at.

Buck swallows and murmurs, "You look like there's no love in your life, Tommy."

Sucking in a trembling breath, Tommy smiles weakly and sketches a shrug. It looks like the fatigued steel of his edges are starting to crack.

"I left all my love with you that night." His gaze darts down. "Among other things."

Buck looks down at Nora, who's sleeping the sleep of someone already exhausted by existence, or maybe just by her fathers' drama, and thinks that maybe he really has been carrying all his love plus Tommy's around. Because otherwise he has no idea how he's so full of it.

"She's absolutely perfect," Buck says, smiling dopily.

"She's... more than anything I could've ever dreamed of."

He looks up in time to see Tommy drop his gaze to the floor at the same time his shoulders lift and lock like they're bracing for a blow. And in a voice so thin it's barely a sound, Tommy says, "I know I don't have... any right to ask, but is there any... any chance I could be part of her life?"

The tears that have been languishing at the edges of Buck's eyes finally see an opportunity. He doesn't think he could've held them back any longer if he tried.

Mouth trembling, he whispers, "Just hers?"

At that, Tommy looks up, eyes wide, disbelief and hope chasing each other across his face like dogs. He jerks a little in his chair but he doesn't move. He doesn't move.

Buck stares at him, a tsunami pulling everything back from his shoreline, and bites out, "Thomas James Kinard, if you don't get over here and kiss me, I swear to Christ—"

But Tommy's out of the chair and at his bedside, cupping Buck's face and tenderly smearing a kiss over his open mouth, licking the relieved gasp right off Buck's tongue.

Between them, Nora makes a tiny noise, and Tommy startles away just enough that he can press the side of his head to Buck's and gaze down at her with a tremulous smile.

"She really is something, huh? Sorry about the nose, kiddo," he says softly.

Buck knocks their heads together and says, "I happen to love that nose, thanks. And like you said, my lips will help balance it out."

Huffing a laugh, Tommy kisses Buck's lips. And the side of his nose and the bolt of his jaw. Then he leans down and presses a kiss to Nora's little pink and blue hat.

"I'm sure if you are," Tommy murmurs, tilting his chin up so he can flash a brave smile up at Buck, who smiles back.

"I was always sure."

[ellecdc]

Hey gorg!!!

I saw the post about wanting pregnant reader/ dad marauders prompts and I literally ran here.

I’ve got two ideas, so whichever gives you the most inspiration/ whatever you like best 😂

1- pregnant!reader who just hits her limit for the day- overwhelmed and overstimulated with everything to the point she jsut wants to sit and cry- all because of something silly

Or!!

2- reader on their first day away from baby with the girls- leaving dad!marauders to it, coming back to a baby who’s very excited to be free from the chaos of the boys.

Lots of love!!

-🥟

eeeeeeeek I went with #2!!! thank you my love <3

dad!marauders x mum!reader who saves their daughter from the boys' tyranny [522 words]

CW: kid fic, fem!reader, you have a daughter but I avoided assigning her a name (let me know how ya'll prefer that: do you want me to name the kid? or do you want me to leave it ambiguous? I feel like it would probably read easier/more naturally with an assigned name, but I understand if you like making that up yourself)

“Oh thank gods you’re home.” Sirius pushed out all in one breath as he hastily stood from the couch with your daughter in hand. 

You clicked the door shut behind you as you took your shoes off, furrowing your brows at a frazzled looking Sirius and an equally frazzled looking baby in his arms. 

“You have to help us.” He begged quickly. “They’re driving us mad.”

“What?” You laughed carefully, though you had to admit that your child had a nearly identical pout on her lips as her papa, and you were quite sure babies her age didn’t have the ability to conspire. 

Though, you were sure if any baby could conspire, it would be a baby Marauder. 

“They haven’t stopped all day.” Sirius enunciated, whispering at you and looking over his shoulder as if some invisible threat was going to attack at any given moment. “Jamie got up this morning on a warpath; first we went on a family walk to feed the ducks some corn. Fine, I’ll let it slide. We no sooner got home, and Moony set up the sandbox in the yard. Great. But then, James insisted we go to the park! Which - okay, that was fun, because I got to run around as Padfoot. But then after a mere 20 minute nap, Remus had us out at the stream catching and releasing frogs!”

You awed in sympathy as you brushed some fine hair away from your baby girl’s forehead who was using her two pudgy hands to rub at her eyes.

“You tired, lovie?” You asked the child, but they both whined a yes in response. 

“Okay.” You murmured as you accepted the sleepy child’s grabby hands, only for her to immediately rest her head on your shoulder and melt into your embrace.

“Pads? Where’d you guys run off to?” James called from the other room, and Sirius’ paled. “We’ve got the water table set up.”

“Oh gods,” Sirius whimpered, “they’re coming.”

“Sirius,” you started to chide, but he simply turned and started pushing you towards the hall that led to the bedrooms.

“Go, save yourselves. I’ll hold them off.” He whispered theatrically.

“Sirius!” You squealed, laughing as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head - taking a deep breath as if he was trying to memorise your scent like he may never get the chance to do it again - and pat at your hip. 

“Make sure our baby girl grows up knowing the sacrifices her brave, brave papa made for her.” He offered solemnly, walking backwards as he held your gaze. “Go! Nap! Rest! Waste the day away in ways many of us only dream!” 

You giggled at him as he disappeared around the corner, hearing Remus murmur “what the hell was all that about?” only to hear a grunt, a chuckle, and a theatric “I won’t let you tyrannise our sweet girls any longer!”

“What do you say, sweetheart? Time for a nap?” You murmured as you made your way towards your bedroom; a nap did sound appealing, now that you thought about it. 

An answer never came, however; she was already fast asleep.

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

[since everything under a Read More cut gets deleted in case a blog deletes/gets deleted and the WayBackMachine isn’t good with pictures, for Archive Purposes Only, I will add the most important bits of the/rest of the full post and have also checked/updated/added the source links to the best of my abilities]

"From [North] America, they traveled to Australia and New Zealand, then back to the U.S. again. They didn’t have extended time in the U.K. until the end of April (when they were likely writing/recording Take Me Home, as well as rehearsing for their continuing Up All Night tour).

In the gifs above, OT5 are pictured at a Much Music interview from May 2012, unavailable to view [I have added the video link. Btw, at 16:06 there is another very interesting moment where they start talking about Larry Stylinson and Liam says "It's true!"] —the one with the two red tables, where the interviewer asks about boys kissing, and Niall’s wearing a lavender t-shirt and backwards snapback.

Interviewer: “How do you balance [making an album] with how busy you are, and all these concert dates?” Harry shrugs, “You tell us!” Louis says, “We ask ourselves the same question!” Interviewer: “You already have nearly a hundred shows confirmed and almost sold out—for 2013. How do you plan your lives that far in advance?” Harry and Liam laugh, “We don’t!” Louis says, “We wish we did!” [I added the video link]

In Florida during the Up All Night tour in [July] 2012, Niall comments that he spent "30 days at home [in 2011]. So, that's a big difference from 365..." [link to whole interview video]

–––––

Q: Many of these groups get huge but burn out after three or so years.  What’s your plan to make sure that doesn’t happen?

Simon Cowell: “Be sensible and treat them as human beings, genuinely.  That’s the most important thing.  Traditionally, record companies would put out the most possible product in a short period of time, thinking you only have two or three years.  I don’t think that’s necessarily the case now.  If you’re sensible and you don’t burn them out, you don’t have to put a time limit on this anymore.  And they’re so young, these guys.”  

Rolling Stone Q&A with Simon Cowell  (by Andy Greene, April 2012, emphasis mine)

–––––

“I’ve never known a band to announce a second summer tour before a first summer tour is over.  It’s insane – they’re working them like dogs and printing money right now.”  — Andy Greene, May 2012

During This Is Us promo in August 2013, Harry says, "If we could choose the perfect scenario, I would be 'the well-rested one.' "

–––––

Simon Cowell, 2015:  “This is five years, literally non-stop. I’m amazed they’ve done it for so long… I hope [they’ll get back together], but like I said, it’s not going to be because of any pressure from me… like we said in the beginning, this is an opportunity, you won it, and I’ve always had that attitude with them…. Look, even though they’re young, that is a gruelling schedule and after a while I could see they were exhausted, so when they said, “How do you feel about it?”  I said, “Do whatever you want.”  Having a year off is going to be a healthy thing.’

Also during This is Us promo, during one of their multiple press conferences, [in August 2013] a reporter asks, "Did you have a choice to say no to this documentary?" Harry half-shakes his head, and leans in to speak. Niall almost imperceptibly shakes his head, and tightens his mouth.

––––––

Niall, October 2012: I've a re-occurring knee injury from playing football. I've dislocated my knee ten times in the last two years. Operation time for me.

So are you gonna have to go and get an operation done? When?

Niall: (shrugs) Whenever I have time. ...[come up with] a couple years. (Late Late Show, October 2012)

14 months later, January 2014: after performing 123 shows during the Take Me Home tour (only a portion of his responsibilities during that time), 20-year-old Niall had major knee surgery that was 'much larger than anticipated'. He began a new tour with One Direction about three months later, after One Direction’s first extended break since forming as a group.

––––––

From January 2011 – December 2015, One Direction:

• wrote for and recorded 5 albums (91 songs included on the albums)

• performed 327 full concerts as headliners during four tours (on the road for about 110 weeks total)

• were interviewed more than 800 times by various media

• performed at least 97 times on television

• visited at least 37 countries, often more than once

• walked some 33 red carpets

• filmed 18 music videos (at least 36 days’ work)

• filmed well over 100 additional miscellaneous videos

• had at least 29 photo shoots

• shot a feature-film ‘documentary,’ with cameras trailing them for months

• shot concert films for the Up All Night and Where We Are tours

Just one week of heavy promo for the feature-film This is Us in August 2013 included:

approximately 95 junket interviews appearance at the VMAs appearance at America’s Got Talent performance and interview at Today Show press conference in NY Premieres in London and New York; red carpet interviews hours of transatlantic flights

1D’s pace was much more relentless than the glancing summary I’ve given here.

–––––––

During the Four Hangout, Liam comments that there are "...a lot of meetings, there's a lot of meetings in Boybandville." [I added the video link]

(a very young and starry-eyed Zayn, Niall, Liam, Louis, and Harry are pictured above listening to the judges after their week 2 X-Factor performance, 2010) Below, Liam continues, "One thing we didn't realize when we [got in] this band is how many meetings you have." [I added the video link]

––––––

“…the business empire fronted by these cherubic faces now stretches well into the hundreds of millions of pounds, with licensing deals that include everything from lunchboxes to their own fragrances.  Their ambition, or at least their management’s ambition, is seemingly infinite…

During press for Midnight Memories in France, interviewer Cauet asks, "After your films, books, perfume—what's coming up next?" Harry: Space Liam: Our own range of door handles... lampshades... curtains! Louis: Let's do radiators. Harry: Radiators. Louis: Warmth. Zayn: Next music video's on the moon! [I added the video link]

––––––

Harry Magee, Modest!Management: ‘The scale of this band is unprecedented.  None of us involved in the band, from the management, to the agents, to the licensees, to retailers, have ever worked on anything this big before.  There might be huge acts that have been going longer than 25 years but they are not nearly as broad as One Direction, especially when it comes to selling tickets and selling merchandise. …in terms of per-head numbers for merchandise we have broken all the numbers.  We need more stands at the gigs.  More people serving.’ …  (GQ magazine, August 2013, emphasis mine)

(C'Cauet clip continues) Louis: One Direction central heating, I think. Liam: People. Our own range of people! Niall: Coffee tables! Liam: Opening a pet shop! Zayn: On the moon. (C’Cauet sur NRJ, 14 December 2013)

––––––

April 2012, below: it was rumored Simon had given them each 2 million pounds because they were so successful — Niall and Harry said ‘not true.’ In the first gif, Harry says, "He's a bit tight, Simon is." "That's why he's so successful, he's able to keep his money to himself,” Niall laughs.

––––––

1D partial gross revenue 2011-2014 (3 tours, 3 films): more than $500 million   xx  xx  xx  xx

(Here’s an enlightening post re: 1D finances) [updated the link]

––––––

Niall: You know when the Backstreet Boys and New Kids On The Block came back a few months ago?  And all they did were arena tours.  That’s how I’d like to be remembered.

Liam: Yeah, just pop in and do an arena tour every ten years…

Niall: Sell out Wembley.  Smash it hard. Home in time for tea.

Liam: Fingers crossed, eh? (Aug 2013)

In the gif above, OT5 hug in a tight bundle on the day of their X-Factor Judges' House audition, when Louis had an injured foot.

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One Direction were/are ambitious… but one must consider their ages when they signed their contracts, who truly managed their schedule (’This is what you have to do if you want to succeed’) and the pressure to continue making money. 

Beginning with X-Factor in October 2010, One Direction didn’t get any extended break until 21 Dec 2013 – Feb 2014, about nine weeks.

As students in the UK, they would've received anywhere from 10-22 weeks of vacation a year—not to mention being at home with the love and support of their families and friends.

master list of March 2012 filmed promo [by @youcancallmeathief]

March 2012 timeline [ @bulletprooflarry]

Four Hangout, Nov 2014 

(all gifs by OP, @quietasides)"

One Direction won at the Brit Awards on 21 February 2012.  Harry had just turned 18, Liam and Niall were 18, Zayn was 19, and Louis was 20.

Adding gif captions in italics! Above, the four gifs show some moments from Four Hangout, November 2014. Liam, Louis, and Zayn are pictured sitting on the red couch. Louis says, “I remember that first American promo trip was relentless.” Liam: “Crazy.” Niall: “Nuts.” Louis: “I think it was like three weeks on the trot that we were away [from home].” Liam asks him, “Do you remember when we were doing, like, ten  things at once, as well? Doing interviews and signing and something else…” Louis: “That’s what it was all like. It was all just so, so manic.” Liam: “Crazy.”

Three days after the Brits, they were in Chicago for a radio interview/meet and greet.  They also opened for Big Time Rush that night, and proceeded to play 12 shows over the next two weeks, each in a different city.  During March they also did at least six signings, some smaller performances (such as three songs on the Today Show), and over 60 interviews.

14 March 2012, above: Louis, Harry, and Liam are pictured during one of the nine+ interviews they filmed that day. The interviewer asks, “What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re not working?” Liam replies with a rueful laugh, “Have days off!”

Keep reading

[onlyhereforthestories]

Chica Medica - Part 5 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

So its been a while (sorry!) You won't have to wait long for the final few parts of this I am half way through the next part. Thank you all who have stuck with me, this was one of the first things I wrote and I feel a little emotional that it is finally coming to an end. Anyway enough ramble enjoy part 5!

You had gone through your whole wardrobe by this point, and you still couldn’t find the right thing to wear. All your clothes were spread around your room in various states of crinkled from the constant changing you had been doing. Nothing was working together or, or you were not feeling confident in others.

You checked you phone to see you had exactly 23 minutes before Leila and Mapi were due to collect you, so you knew you needed to get a move on. Deciding the only way you were actually going to put anything on over the underwear you currently resided in was with some help, you dialled the number of the only person who could sort you out.

Ona picked up on the second ring, “Hola Hermana, what can I do for you?” her smile and voice had the wave of calm you needed right now to stop your mind from its current running all over the place.

“I need help. I have Christmas drinks with the Barca girls tonight and I don’t know what to wear, I have tried my whole wardrobe on and nothing is right. I need you to just tell me what to wear.” Ona could hear the frustration in your voice.

“I’m guessing you are only this stressed about what you look like because of a certain midfielder, you never care about what you look. I’ve literally been to the club with you in joggers before.” You rolled your eyes at the woman before giving her a pointed look through your phone. Now wasn’t the time for memories or teasing you about the fact that you were hyperaware of the brunette that would in fact see you in the clothes you picked tonight.

“Ona please.” You pulled out the puppy eyes and the bottom lip, both of which you knew would get Ona helping you in a couple seconds flat.

“Oh, you really want my help you’ve pulled out the big guns. Okay show me what I’m working with. Ooooo actually do you still have that black silk shirt? The one you wore to you knows party?” you knew exactly what shirt she meant, it was the only item you had not actually tried on tonight, you’d just chucked it to the side.

“I do yes. Is that not like bad luck or something to wear?” Could you really wear a shirt your ex loved on you so much to a party you were so worried about looking good for because of the new person you had feelings for.

“She didn’t buy it for you I did, and you look really, really hot in it so if you want Alexia to drool over you, I would definitely say wear it.” You found it in the pile of clothes and picked out some beige slacks with the help of Ona, you chatted with the Manchester United player while you got ready and only said goodbye when you heard the doorbell ring.

Getting to the hired club was fun, Mapi and Leila had both complimented your outfit and made comments about who you were trying to impress much to your annoyance. The best thing was they both promised to protect or help you if you needed it, something that you almost chocked up on thanking them for. You were very lucky to have such amazing friends around you.

When the three of you got in you could tell it was going to be a fun night, Pina came running over to you all with Patri hot on her heels both had beers in both hands, and you were all passed one. Apparently, a drink had to be drunk as soon as you got in to be allowed to join the big group at the table.

Not one to back down from any challenge, you smirked at the two younger women who gave you the drink as you held the beer up in a semi cheers to them and downed it in a very easy and quick time. When you wiped your upper lip, you couldn’t help but laugh at the look on Claudia’s face. The younger woman’s jaw was on the floor so to say, and she had a slight spark of awe in her eyes.

What you didn’t know was that Alexia had walked in with Jenni just as you raised your beer so got to watch you smoothly chug it. An action from you that she found very hot indeed and even voiced that accidently out loud which put her on the receiving end of a slap to the back of the head from her best friend.

Righting herself and sending a quick but not really meant sorry to the older woman, Alexia walked just behind the little group surrounding you to the table where she was greeted with her own drink to see off as quickly as she could. She took a lot longer and struggled a lot more than you did to do it.

As the night went on the drinks flowed more and more, you had had your fair share but had stopped once the pleasant buzz had fully kicked in. You really didn’t like the feeling of losing your senses anymore, so you knew when to switch to sodas. Alexia had noticed you do this and chose to do the same thing in order to hopefully talk with you when her confidence wasn’t on the floor.

Confidence or not her opportunity came when Leila dragged the people on your table up and to the dance floor and you waved them away, stating you needed to watch and see what moves they were doing before you could join in. An excuse for sure but Alexia wasn’t going to complain.

Taking a breath to calm her already racing heart she grabbed her drink and walked towards you. “Mind if I join you?”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to come over here once they left. You pleasantly surprised me with a little under a minute.” You faced her with a giggle, which turned into a full on laugh when you saw her cheeks heat up. “I am only messing with you, of course you can sit. In fact, I would really like it if you did.” It was your turn to blush now, the alcohol you had consumed earlier obviously making your lips a little looser then they would normally be.

“I haven’t got a chance to tell you how stunning you look. That shirt is incredible.” Alexia wasn’t hiding her obvious attraction to the outfit you were wearing, in fact you could see it swimming in her gaze.

“You look incredible yourself, I do have to admit that open back dress on you will always get to me.” You were again saying a lot, more than you ever had in fact. Your inner thoughts of tracing the tattoos on her back came to mind and you had to shake your head to clear your mind of that briefly.

You did manage to catch her ducking her head at what you said, and it boosted your confidence a little bit. Deciding that you needed another actual drink now that this situation was clearly happening you decided you were not going to do it alone. “Do you want to get a drink with me?”

“I’d love nothing else. Lead the way, but drinks are on me.” Alexia was standing next to where you were sitting in the booth with her hand held out to you, a hopeful look in her eyes. A hopefully look that turned into full blown joy the second you placed your hand in hers and made to stand up.

Alexia was quick to drag you with her to the bar where she got you both a shot and a normal drinking drink. Those were drunk at the bar, the both of you enjoying the time away from the bulk of the group and slightly further away from the music so you didn’t have to shout so much to hear one another.

Alexia had just downed the last of her drink while making direct eye contact with you, taking the obvious hint she was giving you, you downed the last bit of your own. As you put the glass down on the bar you found a hand placed on the small of your back and your body gently pulled in the direction Ale was moving. You ended up on the dance floor with the rest of the girls, you split of slightly from the woman that was always on your mind so you could join the girls that dragged you here.

You danced with them all for an unknown amount of time, you were having the best time, and it didn’t matter who you were with. Alexia would slide up behind you every so often and get you dancing with her before she let you go back to either Mapi or Leila depending on who was requesting your presence.

As the night progressed and you consumed your final drink, you cut yourself off as you knew this was your limit. You knew that if you drank anymore it would go from a fun slightly heavy night to a messy night. Apparently, Alexia was in agreement because about 30 minutes after that final drink she was heading towards the bar to get water, something that you were planning on doing too.

“Did you get water?” You didn’t realise how much you were pressed up to the woman, but she did. Alexia could feel the curve of you pressed up against her and it was sending her head spinning more than alcohol every could. She took a second to compose herself before glancing over her shoulder and answering you.

“Si.” You smiled before requesting that she made that two. With a water in each of her hands she nudged your shoulder to get you moving back in the direction of the booth you were in earlier.

As you and Alexia returned to the booth, drinks in hand, the atmosphere between you was charged with unspoken words and lingering glances. The club was still buzzing with energy. Laughter and music filled the air, but here in your little corner, everything seemed quieter, more intimate.

You settled in next to Alexia, close enough that your knees brushed under the table. It sent a spark through you, but you focused on your water, taking a long sip to calm the nerves that had been building all night.

"Did you enjoy the dancing?" Alexia asked, her voice just loud enough for you to hear over the music. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your ear, and you tried not to let it affect you too much.

"Yeah," you replied, looking at her with a playful smirk. "Especially when you kept sneaking up behind me."

Her cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn’t break eye contact. "I thought you liked that."

You raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t say I didn’t." The tension between you hung in the air like a charged wire, sparking every time you exchanged a glance or a touch.

For a while, you talked casually; about the team, about the night, both of you skirting around the real conversation neither of you seemed ready to have. But the underlying feeling of something more was undeniable, every small gesture, every laugh shared, seemed to pull you closer.

After a bit of quiet, you glanced over at the dance floor where Leila and Mapi were making a scene with some questionable dance moves. You shook your head, laughing softly. "I don’t know how they manage to be so ridiculous and so fun at the same time."

Alexia grinned. "That’s Mapi and Leila for you. But it looks like they’re having a good time. I think this was really needed for them." You always admired how much the woman cared for her teammates, it was one of the many things that made her such a wonderful captain.

You nodded in agreement but felt the weight of her gaze on you, the air between you growing heavier. The rest of the room faded into the background, and suddenly, sitting so close to her, the only thing you could focus on was the warmth radiating from her body and how easily her presence made your heart race.

Without thinking, you stood up, needing a moment to collect yourself. "I’m going to the bathroom," you said, your voice steadier than you felt. "I’ll be right back."

Alexia watched you go, her eyes following you as you made your way through the crowd. The moment you disappeared into the hallway leading to the bathrooms, she stood up, almost on instinct, and followed. She caught up with you just as you reached the door to the bathroom.

"Hey," she called softly, causing you to turn around. Her gaze was intense, her brown eyes darker under the dim club lights. "Wait a second."

You stopped, heart pounding in your chest. "What is it?"

For a moment, Alexia just looked at you, like she was weighing her next words, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you. The hallway was dimly lit, the noise from the club muffled, and the two of you stood close, the space between you shrinking with every passing second.

Her hand brushed yours, a light touch that sent a shiver up your spine. "I—" she began, but whatever words she’d been about to say faded into silence. Instead, she leaned in slowly, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t not with her.

Your heart raced as her lips met yours, the kiss slow and deliberate. It wasn’t the rushed, drunken kiss from before; this one was different. It was tender, purposeful, and full of the tension that had been building between you all night. This kiss was meant, you could feel it in the way you both eased into it and melted into one another.

You kissed her back, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, pulling her closer. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the feel of her lips against yours, soft but insistent, like she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

"I... I’ve been wanting to do that all night," Alexia admitted softly, her thumb brushing over your hand, still entwined with hers. You got slightly lost in the feeling of her warm breath running over your lips as she was still so close to you.

You let out a soft laugh, your heart still pounding in your chest. "I’m glad you did."

Before you could say more, you heard familiar voices approaching from the direction of the club. You glanced at Alexia, the tension still palpable between you.

"We should get back before they notice we’re both gone," you said, though a part of you wasn’t ready for this moment to end. A part of you knew that if you could you would stand here like this with Alexia for as long as she would allow.

Alexia nodded, but her fingers lingered on your hand for a second longer before letting go. "Right. Yes."

Just as you both started to head back to the booth, Leila and Mapi came around the corner, clearly on a mission to find you. "There you are!" Leila exclaimed with a mischievous grin. "We were wondering where our chica medica disappeared to."

Mapi’s eyes flicked between you and Alexia, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Ohhhh, what did we miss?"

You laughed, trying to play it cool. "Nothing much. Just needed a break from all your terrible dancing."

Leila gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. "Excuse me, my moves are iconic."

Alexia chuckled beside you, but you could still feel the tension simmering beneath the surface. You weren’t sure if Mapi and Leila could sense it, but you knew you couldn’t stay here much longer without risking more teasing or worse, revealing too much.

"I think I’m going to head home," you said suddenly, glancing at Alexia for a brief second before turning to your friends. "It’s been a long day."

Leila and Mapi exchanged a glance but didn’t push. "We’ll come with you," Leila offered, her tone softer now. "It’s getting late anyway."

"Yeah," Mapi added, clearly sensing there was more going on but choosing not to dig, for now at least. "Let’s get out of here."

As you all made your way out of the club, Alexia stayed close to you, her arm brushing against yours every so often. You didn’t speak much, but the kiss still lingered in the air between you, full of possibility and unanswered questions.

And though you weren’t quite sure what would happen next, for now, you were content knowing that something had shifted between you and Alexia, something that felt too real to ignore.

The final whistle echoed through the stadium, marking the end of the last game before Christmas. The team had secured a comfortable win, and the energy in the locker room was buzzing with excitement. You smiled, watching the others as they celebrated, but your mind was already elsewhere, on the gift you’d been planning for Alexia.

Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and you both had flights to catch you were heading home to your family, and Alexia was off to Dubai for a much-deserved break as well as the award ceremony she had to attend. Despite the unspoken tension between you, the connection had only grown deeper, especially after that night at the club. But there were still so many things left unsaid, and you wanted to give her something so that she knows you are thinking of her over the break.

The present you had picked wasn’t overly sentimental, but it was personal. Something that could remind her of your time together while not being overly obvious to anyone outside of the two of you. You had chosen a silver necklace with a pendant that had a small wave on it, echoing the tattoo she had on her arm. To you, the wave symbolized something constant and unyielding just like the ocean, always in motion but forever steady. It was your way of telling her that, no matter what storms or calm seas lay ahead, you would be there, quietly supporting her, just as the ocean never stops flowing. You remembered a conversation you had shared about her tattoo and how it made you feel, how it reminded you that even when things are chaotic, some things, like your care for her, would always remain steady.

Attached to the box that held the necklace was a simple note with "Open on Christmas" written across the top in your neat handwriting. You didn’t dare give it to her directly, it wasn’t a grand gesture, but the idea of watching her reaction made your stomach flutter nervously.

As the team headed for the showers, you saw your chance. While everyone was distracted, you slipped over to Alexia’s bag. Glancing around to make sure no one noticed, you carefully placed the small box deep inside, just under her change of clothes. The note, tucked on top of the box, would be the first thing she’d see when she unpacked the bag later.

Your heart raced a little as you zipped her bag back up, the nerves making your hands slightly shaky. You weren’t sure what Alexia would think, but you hoped she’d at the very least like the necklace, even if she didn’t appreciate the meaning.

Just as you finished, Mapi walked by, oblivious to what you’d just done. "Hey, you ready to head out?" she asked, a wide grin on her face.

"Yeah," you replied, forcing a calmness into your voice. "Just about."

As the rest of the team began to gather their things, you exchanged a few quick goodbyes. With the Christmas break upon you, you’d all be going your separate ways for the holidays. You lingered for a moment, watching Alexia as she packed up her own bag, a small smile playing on her lips as she laughed at something Jenni said. You wondered when she’d find the present, and a nervous excitement built in your chest. You just hoped shed find it before she left, the logical part of your brain knew she would. Alexia couldn’t not unpack and clean away her kit bag after every session, it was something she had told you at the start of your time together.

That evening Alexia did exactly as you thought she would, she was slightly distracted with thoughts of you, slightly annoyed at herself for not speaking to you before she left the grounds. As she unpacked her bag, Alexia pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on getting comfortable. She was just about to pull out her toiletries when her fingers brushed against something unexpected, something small and wrapped. Frowning, she pulled it out from the bottom of her bag, her breath catching when she saw the small box wrapped in simple paper with a note attached.

"Open on Christmas," it read in your familiar handwriting, the instructions clear.

A soft smile tugged at the corner of Alexia’s lips as she ran her thumb over the words. You had managed to sneak this into her bag without her noticing, and now, holding the gift in her hands, a warmth spread through her chest. It was thoughtful, quiet, just like you had always been when it came to her.

The next morning, Christmas Eve arrived, and the airport was packed with travellers rushing to get home or off on holiday. You were there early, having left for your flight to see your family. As you waited in line at security, you couldn’t stop thinking about the gift you’d left in Alexia’s bag. You pictured her finding it when she unpacked, seeing the note telling her to wait until Christmas to open it. You just hoped she listened to it and took it with her.

Part of you felt nervous, wondering if it was too much or maybe not enough. But you pushed the thoughts aside as your boarding group was called. You checked your phone one last time and saw a message from Mapi, teasing you about the quiet night in before you both left.

You responded with a quick laugh emoji, then turned off your phone as you headed through the gate.

Later that morning, Alexia was checking in for her flight to Dubai. She was looking forward to the break, but her mind kept drifting back to the past few weeks, and more specifically, to you. Things had felt different lately, not just because of the kiss, but because of how you seemed to understand her in a way not many people did.

She sighed softly, adjusting her carry-on bag as she walked through the airport. The team had celebrated last night, and now they were all headed in different directions. As she sat down in the waiting area for her flight, she thought back to the locker room, wondering if she’d missed her chance to say something to you before you left. But then again, you had both left so many things unsaid.

Her thoughts were interrupted by an announcement for boarding. She stood up, rolling her shoulders to relax, and joined the line for her flight. As she settled into her seat on the plane, she tucked her bag under the seat in front of her, the box with the note she discovered last night tucked neatly in a pocket inside the bag.

After a long flight from Barcelona, Alexia finally landed in Dubai, exhausted but relieved to be away from the whirlwind of the season for a few days. The city sparkled beneath the night sky as she made her way to the hotel, her thoughts wandering to the time off she would finally have to herself.

Once inside her hotel room, the silence felt both comforting and strange. The entire flight had been spent mulling over the last few weeks, her thoughts drifting to you more than she’d like to admit. She hadn’t been able to figure out where she stood with you, especially after that kiss, and the uncertainty had left her unsettled.

Her mind was also on the wrapped gift she now had put on the desk in her hotel room, she could see it from her place laying on the bed. She didn’t get you anything which wasn’t because she didn’t want to, she was just scared it wasn’t the right move. Apparently, you had the bigger balls of the two.

She got up and walked to where the gift was placed, she picked it up and re read the little note on top. Her mind involuntarily making her smile at the thought of you scribbling it. She turned it over a few times contemplating whether to open it now or not.

But it wasn’t Christmas yet, and despite the temptation to tear it open right then and there, Alexia placed the small box on the nightstand. She’d wait until midnight. It wasn’t long, and she wanted to do it properly.

As the evening passed, she showered, had a light dinner, and spent some time aimlessly scrolling through her phone. But her thoughts kept drifting back to the gift waiting for her. The curiosity of what you had chosen for her grew with each passing minute, and as the clock crept closer to midnight, the anticipation made her heart beat just a little faster.

Finally, when her phone’s clock ticked over to 12:00, Alexia got up and reached for the gift, her fingers carefully undoing the wrapping. She peeled away the paper slowly, savouring the moment, until she uncovered the small box underneath. Her breath hitched slightly as she lifted the lid, revealing a delicate silver necklace nestled inside, with a tiny, intricately engraved wave symbol on a pendant.

For a long moment, Alexia just stared at it, running her fingers gently over the pendant. The wave it was very similar to the one she forever has on her arm. She understood it immediately. The constant, steady flow of the ocean, like how you had been there for her, quietly supporting her through her physical recovery and beyond. It was personal, thoughtful, and most of all perfect.

Her eyes fell on the folded note tucked inside the box. She unfolded it carefully, her heart thudding in her chest as she read your words:

Ale,

For all the times you’ve been my steady wave, keeping me grounded even when you didn’t know it. Merry Christmas.

Y/N

Alexia’s breath caught in her throat as she read the message. She hadn’t expected to feel this much emotion over a simple gift, but the weight of your words settled deep in her chest. It wasn’t just the bracelet, it was everything. The way you had been there for her, listening to her, supporting her, even when she hadn’t been sure of her own feelings. The message was your feelings about her, but they very much reflected her own for you too.

She leaned back against the pillows, the necklace still resting in her palm as she stared at it, feeling the emotions swell up inside her. It wasn’t just a gift. It was a message, one that told her, in no uncertain terms, that you were thinking of her, that you cared. That you might well always care if she would let you.

For the first time in a long time, Alexia allowed herself to think about what might come next. You were more than just her physiotherapist. You had become someone important, someone she couldn’t stop thinking about.

As she slipped the necklace around her neck, she made a quiet promise to herself. When she returned to Barcelona, she’d talk to you. Really talk. She wasn’t going to let this connection slip away, not after everything that had happened between you.

She glanced at the clock again, the soft ticking of the seconds filling the quiet room. It was Christmas now, and despite the miles between you, Alexia felt closer to you than she had in weeks. Smiling softly, she ran her fingers over the pendant one more time before closing her eyes, your words still lingering in her mind.

Merry Christmas.

Christmas with your family had been exactly what you needed. It had been cozy, familiar, and full of the warmth you'd missed while away in Spain. You'd spent a few extra days with them, catching up on lost time and letting yourself fully relax before heading back to reality. But after a while, the pull to reconnect with old friends had you itching to get out of the house.

It was Ona, of course, who suggested you stay in England a little longer after Christmas. "Why rush back?" she had said over FaceTime, her face lighting up at the idea. "We don’t have training for another few days, and you deserve some downtime with your friends. Take it."

You’d agreed, and soon you found yourself planning a few nights out with some of your old friends from the England team. That included Leah. The tension between you and her had lessened, especially after you had decided that a proper conversation was long overdue. There were still things to be said, things you couldn’t quite walk away from until they were fully resolved.

So, it was then that you found yourself out with a mix of friends from your past clubs, including Leah, Beth, and a few others. It was a relaxed evening at a familiar bar, drinks flowing and laughter filling the air. You weren’t overly worried about how it might look, knowing that everything with Leah was firmly in the past. But the conversation needed to happen, and tonight felt like the right time.

You and Leah stepped away from the group for a moment, moving to a quieter corner where you could talk privately. The noise of the bar created a bubble of privacy around you both as you began to speak.

"I’ve been meaning to say this for a while," Leah started, her voice soft but steady. "I’m sorry for how things ended between us. I know I didn’t handle things well, and it hurt you more than I realized at the time."

You nodded, appreciating her honesty. It wasn’t easy to dig into the past, but this conversation felt necessary. "It wasn’t easy for either of us," you admitted. "But I’m glad we’re talking about it now. I think we both needed this. I think it’s time for us to both let go of the past and move on with our lives."

Leah smiled, the tension between you dissolving as the conversation continued. It was nothing more than an honest exchange, two people clearing the air. But what you didn’t know was that in the background, someone else had unknowingly captured the moment on their phone.

Beth Mead had been recording a playful story for Instagram, filming some of the team dancing and enjoying the night out. In the background, just out of focus, you and Leah were caught in a seemingly intimate conversation, standing close as you talked quietly. It was innocent, but without context, the image could easily be misinterpreted.

Thousands of miles away, in the luxury of her hotel in Dubai, Alexia scrolled through her phone after a long day. The trip had been relaxing so far, a much-needed break from the intensity of the season, but her thoughts kept drifting back to you. She hadn’t heard much from you since before Christmas, and the uncertainty of where you stood with each other was gnawing at her.

Her thumb paused over an Instagram story from Beth Mead, recognizing several familiar faces in the crowd. She smiled at the sight of you laughing with your friends, but as the story continued to play, her heart dropped. In the background of the video, you and Leah were standing together, heads close, deep in conversation. The image of the two of you, smiling and looking comfortable with each other, sent a pang of jealousy straight through her.

She stared at the screen for a long moment, her mind racing. Were you getting back together with Leah? Had she misread everything between the two of you?

Without thinking, she grabbed her phone and opened her messages, typing out a quick message to Ona.

Ale: Hey, I saw something. Is Y/N back with Leah? They were together at a bar, looked... close. Just want to know.

The message sent, and Alexia sat there, biting her lip as she waited for a reply. The logical part of her knew she shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but the image from the story kept replaying in her mind. What if you were moving on with Leah? What if she had missed her chance?

It wasn’t long before her phone buzzed with Ona’s response:

Ona: It’s not my place to say anything, Ale, but trust me it’s not what you’re thinking. Just... give her time to explain when she’s ready.

Alexia stared at the message, her heart still unsettled. Ona’s words were somewhat reassuring, but they weren’t enough to silence the nagging doubt in her mind. She didn’t want to overstep, but the thought of losing you to Leah, especially after everything you and Alexia had shared, was hard to swallow.

Back in England, you were unaware of the storm brewing. The night had ended on a positive note, with you and Leah parting on good terms, both of you agreeing that the past was where it belonged. You felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt like you were finally in a place where you could move forward and you had in mind the person you wanted to do that with, hopefully.

It wasn’t until the next morning, when you checked your phone, that you noticed a missed call from Ona. Confused, you called her back immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, leaning back against your bed, still feeling the contentment of last night’s resolution with Leah.

Ona’s voice was calm but cautious. “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. Alexia saw a video from last night of you and Leah. She asked if you were back together.”

Your stomach dropped. “What? No, we were just talking. Clearing the air.”

“I know,” Ona reassured you. “But the video doesn’t exactly show the context. You two were in the background, and I think Alexia got the wrong idea. Well actually I know she did.”

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. Of course, Alexia would see that. Of all the things to misinterpret... You could picture her in Dubai, overthinking everything, and the thought made your chest tighten.

“What should I do?” you asked, feeling the weight of the situation now settling over you.

“I didn’t tell her anything beyond that it wasn’t what she thought. But you might want to talk to her, explain things when you’re ready,” Ona suggested. "She’s over there worrying, Y/N. It’s not my business, but I can tell she’s thinking the worst, which I know isn’t fair to you. You both have baggage, and you haven’t worked this all out yet, you need to talk to each other. And properly Y/N."

You nodded, even though Ona couldn’t see you. “Yeah I know, I’m sorry I haven’t been great at doing that. I wanted to sort the Leah thing before I had that conversation with Ale but maybe I should have been a bit more open after the other night. I’ll talk to her. Thanks, Ona.”

After hanging up, you stared at your phone, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. You knew you needed to talk to Alexia, to clear up the misunderstanding. But a part of you also wondered, what did this mean for the two of you. If Alexia was bothered by you being seen with your ex that much surely that had to be a sign of something right. Before you let your head run too much with this, you got out of bed and joined you family for one of your final days before heading back to Barcelona.

Christmas Day passed quietly for Alexia, it was just her mother and sister with her in Dubai, which is all she really needed. It was a much-needed break from the whirlwind of her career, but her mind kept drifting back to you. The silver necklace with the wave pendant had become her constant companion since she found it in her bag and she hadn’t taken it off since she opened it mere minutes into Christmas Day.

She ran her fingers over the pendant absentmindedly as she prepared for the Globe Soccer Awards, where she would be picking up the Women’s Player of the Year award. It was an honour, something she had worked hard for, yet the excitement that usually accompanied such recognition felt muted by the unease sitting heavy in her chest.

Ever since she had seen that Instagram story of you and Leah, a knot of doubt had been tightening inside her. She kept replaying the image in her mind, how close you and Leah had seemed, how comfortable. It had been days since she’d seen it, but she hadn’t reached out to you. She wasn’t sure what to say. Ona’s message had reassured her slightly, but the doubt lingered. Especially as you also hadn’t reached out to her.

As she stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the elegant outfit she had chosen for the awards, Alexia glanced down at the necklace resting against her skin. The wave, a symbol you had described so thoughtfully, felt heavier now. She knew what it meant, how much care and thought had gone into your gift, but that only made the misunderstanding hurt more. If you and Leah were rekindling things, where did that leave you and her?

Later that night, under the glittering lights of the awards ceremony, Alexia was announced as the Women's Player of the Year. The room erupted in applause as she made her way to the stage, graciously accepting the award with a quiet smile. She gave a heartfelt speech, thanking her teammates, coaches, and family for their constant support, but even as she spoke, her thoughts were elsewhere, on you.

The night continued in a blur of congratulations and photographs, but Alexia’s mind remained clouded. By the time she returned to her hotel room, the weight of the day had caught up with her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone buzzed with notifications, messages from friends, fans, and teammates congratulating her.

She opened Instagram, scrolling through the flood of posts from the ceremony. As she crafted her own post, thanking everyone for their support, she hesitated. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, and almost instinctively, she glanced down at the wave pendant resting against her chest. Without thinking too much, she typed a line from your note into part of the caption.

And finally Merry Christmas. Sometimes in life you need your wave to keep you steady, even when you don’t realise it.

It was a subtle nod to you, one that no one else would pick up on, but she knew you would.

Alexia posted the picture: a candid shot of her holding the award, smiling at the camera with her necklace peeking just slightly into view. That along with the end of the caption she hoped would be enough to show you what the gift and you meant to her. Well at least until the conversation could be had, if you wanted it still after the Christmas break.

Back in England, you scrolled through Instagram while waiting for your flight back to Spain. It had been a whirlwind few days, catching up with friends, clearing the air with Leah and now, you were finally heading back home. As you mindlessly flicked through your feed, Alexia’s post popped up.

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat as you read the caption. It was your words, changed slightly, but still the meaning you had written in the note attached to the necklace. The same words that carried all the meaning behind your gift, now reflected back at you in a public post for the world to see.

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, wondering what this meant. Did Alexia understand the depth of your message? Did she feel the same way? Or was this her way of saying goodbye before you’d even had a chance to explain?

Without thinking, you opened your messages and hesitated before typing a quick text to Ona.

Did Alexia say anything to you about that post?

Ona responded almost immediately, as if she had been waiting for you to reach out.

She didn’t mention it to me, but I know she’s been thinking about you. You should talk to her.

Your fingers hovered over your phone as you debated what to do next. The conversation with Leah had cleared the air, but now you were left with a different kind of uncertainty, one that involved Alexia and the feelings that had grown between you. And whether you were really ready for that again.

Taking a deep breath, you opened a new message to Alexia, your heart pounding as you typed.

Hey, I saw your post. I think we should talk when you get back.

The next few days passed slowly as Alexia remained in Dubai, the distance between you both growing heavier with every passing moment. The wave pendant rested against her chest, a constant reminder of you. And as Christmas turned into the new year, the tension between you both, fuelled by misunderstandings, unspoken feelings and lack of communication, remained unresolved, waiting for the moment when you could finally have the conversation that had been building for so long.

[kyksbb]

Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Word Count: 1K

Author's note: Another request, thank you anon! Enjoyyy 🫂🩷

He’s not joking when he says it was love at first sight.

That boy saw you and you knocked the wind out of him. Like, every single cheesy love song suddenly made sense to him. Not that he’s complaining.

“Babe, I saw you, and I was done for.” And he means it. Really means it.

Jude is a serious simp. Like, on another level. No shame though.

He is the sweetest, most thoughtful boyfriend in the world.

He is the type of boyfriend to leave little notes in random places, like in your bag or on the mirror.

“Missed you already” or “You’re my favorite part of the day” in his messy handwriting.

He has your favorite snacks on hand 24/7, tucking them in your bag when you’re not looking. He gets so excited picturing you reaching in later and lighting up.

He’s the biggest tease in the world, not letting a day pass without some good natured ribbing.

Everyone knows he’s extremely competitive. You would think that he would be a gentleman and let you win when you two play games but no. He lost? Oh, he’s pouting until you bribe him with kisses all over his face.

Jude is low-key so overprotective. He keeps you close in a crowd, hand firmly laced with yours.

Also, Jude 100% knows the sidewalk rule. He always makes sure you walk outside of the sidewalk.

He’s the type of boyfriend to show that he cares for you in the smallest ways.

Always peeling the straw for you, sliding the salt over in case you need it during dinner, adjusting your scarf if it’s chilly.

By the way, you only bring your wallet for decoration when you’re out with him. He’s got you covered, period.

He’s the most supportive boyfriend ever. Whatever you’re passionate about, he’s right there. Cheering you on, sending encouraging texts before a big day, asking hundred questions about it.

He’s also the definition of impulsive gift-giver.

You remind him the color of that sweater? He’s already bought it. Found a mug with a cheesy pun you’d love? Done. “Can never have too much,” he says with a smirk.

He’s absolutely obsessed with the bond you have with his family. His parents adore you and he couldn’t be happier about that but, but, truth be told, he finds the fact that you and Jobe are always ganging up on him very annoying.

He’s an actual cuddle monster. Literally. If you’re with him and he doesn’t have his arms wrapped around you, what is he doing?

He swears his arms were “made to hold you,” but he also loves resting his head on your chest, loving when you play with his hair. The little spoon sometimes is his spot.

He says he loves to cook but that is the biggest lie known to a man. He just loves being in the kitchen while you’re cooking. He’ll sing into the spatula, mess with the ingredients, and kiss your neck until you end up doing most of the work.

“Just here for moral support,” he’ll say, grinning while you roll your eyes.

Subtle PDA is his specialty. He doesn’t go overbroad, but he’ll lace his fingers with yours in public, place his hand on your lower back, squeeze your thigh and lean in just close enough to let everyone know you’re his.

Good morning texts, guaranteed. Whether it’s his sleepy face selfie from bed, a quick snap from training, or a random shot of something that reminds him of you, he makes sure you start your day with a smile.

He asks the most random questions at the most random moments. You could be lounging on the couch with him and he’d be like “If animals could talk, which one you reckon would be the rudest?” Or, “Who do you think would win in a dance off, me or my coach?”

You both have tons of inside jokes. Sometimes it takes a one look or a one word and you’re both cracking up uncontrollably.

He is actually obsessed with snapping candid shots of you. Whether you’re laughing with friends, squinting at the menu, or lost in thought, he loves capturing you in your most natural moments.

Jude has this adorable habit of kissing your forehead at the most random times. If you’re talking excitedly about something, he’ll suddenly lean over, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “I love how passionate you get about this.”

When he does it in public, he’ll pull you close with a slight smirk, like he’s silently telling everyone around just how much he adores you.

He’s memorized exactly how you like your coffee and surprises you with it just the way you like when you’re feeling lazy in the morning.

If you’re still in bed, he’ll bring it to you, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder to wake you.

Sometimes, he’ll try to make cute designs in the foam but laugh when they look more like blobs.

He’ll randomly offer you a piggyback ride, even if you’re just walking a short distance. He claims it’s because he’s “keeping you safe” but really just loves carrying you around.

If you’ve had a long day, he’ll give you a piggyback ride all the way to bed, tucking you in with a soft kiss on your forehead and a cheeky, “Lucky I’m here, huh?”

When he’s away, he leaves you cute, funny voice notes throughout the day. They range from “Hey, miss you” to “Guess what I saw today?”

Sometimes, he tries to make up a song about you, laughing through it because he’s making up random lyrics that don’t rhyme.

Whenever you have a small problem, like a squeaky door, a broken lamp, or your favorite necklace clasp breaking, Jude takes it as his personal mission to fix it, even if he doesn’t know how.

He’s ridiculously proud when he finally fixes something and says he’s “earning boyfriend points.”

Jude often talks about the future with you in it. He’ll casually say things like, “When we have a place together…” or “Our future kids would be the cutest,” and then he’ll get adorably shy, rubbing the back of his neck, realizing what he just said.

In conclusion, Jude Bellingham is a huge boyfriend material.

[delulupunk]

How the batboys react to you only speaking in meme references:

Dick Grayson

This is the Robin who used to unironically use turns of phrase while busting crime lords with Batman, so of course he’s going to match your energy. If you say “What the fuck Richard?” He’s just going to reply something even sillier.

“They are my crocs.” He does this in the most deadpan tone and these two memes aren’t even related to one another.

He loves it though and finds the funny way you react to situations similar to his demeanour so you bounce of each other very well. It leads to the pair of you having meme wars- you try and outdo each other in how many memes you can reference.

“Bethany I made BiScUiTs!”

“Look at all those chickens!”

“So no head?”

The pair of you now have inside meme jokes that you say to each other, that earn you weird looks from everyone else when you say them to each other. Mainly because the combinations barely make any sense. However it brings you two closer and sometimes helps break the ice after an argument.

“It’s Wednesday my dudes…”

…

“AHHHHH!”

Jason Todd

Jason isn’t much of a social media person anymore. He tells everyone he finds it jarring and that it’s like peer pressure on steroids. He only uses Pinterest for book recommendations. So you can only reference memes that went viral before his death, at the beginning of your relationship otherwise he just ignores you.

When he does recognise a meme he’ll either roll his eyes or give you an annoyed, yet affectionate smile. Over time though as he notices you making more relevant meme references with your friends, he finds himself getting jealous. Jason wants to experience that with you.

So he pushes aside all his reservations with social media and watches as many meme videos as he can. Eventually he tries incorporating them into your conversations, albeit sheepishly as he’s unsure of himself.

“Brother Eugh?” He’ll state in a reluctant tone and you’ll just laugh and say it right back.

Tim Drake

Tim is far too focused on being a detective to watch memes, instead the way he relaxes is by doing something that still stimulates his brain in a way, so he’s a fan of puzzles.

“You look like the polite cat sometimes.” You told this to him once absentmindedly and he looked at you like you’d grown two heads. He immediately researched it and saw some similarities. You continued the meme reference when you bought him a puzzle of the polite cat for his birthday. It was safe to say he wasn’t that impressed. However he finished it in record time.

Whenever you quote any memes though he gives you a factual answer, “Roadworks mean that construction workers are fixing the road.” In retaliation you begin sending him all the memes you reference and then one day he just starts saying them. At first you’re shocked and he doesn’t do it often, but he’ll have a smug smile on his face every time.

Damian Wayne

Due to Damian’s harsh upbringing from the league of assassins he isn’t well versed in meme culture.

“What is aura? How have I lost -10,000? What was my starting amount?” He takes your meme references too literally, but when you offer to show him some and explain them he accepts. He’ll scoff and tell you he was only doing it to humour you, but in reality he wanted to regain some of his childhood and he felt this would be a good way to do it.

This bitch empty… yeet!

“She could have hit an innocent bystander with that.”

“I think she did Damian.” You play the video back a million times just to see whether or not she had.

He doesn’t ever reference memes back to you or say them in the first instance. Despite this he learns when you’re most likely to quote them and which one it would be. If you choose not to he’ll raise an eyebrow and ask you why you hadn’t. He wants to make sure you haven’t stopped because of him, he likes it he’s just not sure how exactly to show it.

When you do quote memes to him, he’ll have the ghost of a smile on his face. You’ll only see it if you look closely.

[halfwayhearted]

heyy, I love ur work!! Could you pls write some hector fort boyfriend headcanons?? tysm 🤍🤍

Boyfriend Héctor Fort Headcanons! :3

“let’s get personal.” / “only acting like this ‘cause I like you.”

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… can’t and probably won’t take anything seriously. A character you liked was killed off in the show? He’s laughing. Though, he does try his best to comfort you while you bawl.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… finds himself reaching for you. If one of his friends scares him and you’re nearby, he latches onto you instantly, not caring when you try to pry yourself away from him.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… is always smiling. Even when none of you are doing anything, he’s smiling, making a smile form on your own face.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… enjoys being obnoxious, never missing the chance to bump shoulders with you, making you glare at him and do the same in return, turning it into a back-and-forth thing.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… doesn’t want to stop kissing you. The second you pull back to catch your breath, he starts littering tender pecks all over your face, making you laugh sweetly.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… will always be caught staring at you, unashamedly, no matter what. He’s staring at you for two reasons: one, because he knows how easily you get flustered when you catch him, and two, because he quite literally just loves to stare at you, like he’s committing your features to memory. It makes you utterly sick.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… needs to feel your gentle hands combing through his hair anytime he finally has the opportunity to lay with or on you.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… isn’t Héctor if he isn’t constantly teasing you about something that never actually deserved to be teased about. He’ll, unfortunately, make nothing into something.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… despite his cocky nature, he is a boy who still can’t help but be awkward around you the first couple of minutes you two see each other. You love to see it and tease him.

Boyfriend Héctor Fort who… won’t leave you alone without saying the three words you love to hear.

“I love you, I’ll let you know when I get home.”

“Thank you. I love you, too, Héctor.”

(+ he’ll say it again after you. For good measure.)

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby + of course, @tifosixculer ! ౨ৎ (thank you for this request, i love you!)

[planetpedri]

Hi!!! This is my first request but could you please do an imagine with Pau Cubarsi x reader where he wants to be more than friends and doesn't know how to tell her but in the end he finally does. your writing is amazing btw!!

I’ll call you mine — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: Pau has been trying to confess for months, but instead of it coming out with a planned confession, he just blurted it out.

Word count: 1.58k+

Disclaimer/s: Injured (but healing) cat + fluff

A/N: on a pau grind because i’m desperately in love with him.

Your whole study group, which consisted of you, Pau, Lamine, and a girl named Elaine, had agreed to meet at a local diner a few blockes away from school. Pau had kindly offered you a ride there, since he was your neighbor and best friend.

Music played quietly in the background while he drove, adding a nice vibe to the one you’d already created while talking. Pau was asking about you cat, Beatrice, since she just had surgery.

“Oh my God, she literally—“ You let out an annoyed breath, “she literally is so energetic. She literally just got her surgery and now she’s suddenly full of life! I had twenty-four hours of peace before she started walking on our balcony railing again!”

Pau chuckles, his eyes darting to you every few seconds to watch your animated retelling of Beatrice’s actions. “She’s always been a handful, why are you surprised?”

Pinching your lips together, you huff. “Okay, true. It’s still stressful though. So anyways, Lamine and Elaine texted and said they are waiting for us.. but, I was thinking we.. you, could stop at the gas station so I can get some chips? They always have boring flavors at the diner.” You turn in your seat to face Pau, your lips jutting out in a pleading pout.

The boy glances at you with a knowing look, but of course he could never say no to you. “Yeah, sure. Just be quick, we’re already late.”

Pau turns into one of the corner stores, parking in the front so you could get in and out as quickly as possible. As you dig for your bag to get your card, Pau pulls his out from his wallet, shoving it into your face.

Pulling back, you give him a look. “No. Pau, you paid for them last time!”

“And, i’ll pay for them this time.” He waves the card in front of your face, which was forming an annoyed look. “Take it. Go.”

With a groan, you snatch it from his hand. “Okay, thanks. I’ll pay you back.”

You were in and out of the gas station in five minutes, clicking your seatbelt on and handing Pau’s card back with a smile. Chips in hand, you watch the store disappear as Pau drives away.

Your eyes eventually trail back to Pau, who seemed to be deep in thought. Observing his concentrated face, you don’t realize the growing upturn to your lips. He feels your stare, but doesn’t say anything to stop it. His stomach churns the longer you silently watch him and his heart felt like it was beating so fast that it wasn’t beating at all.

You only look away when he parks outside the diner. Unbuckling and climbing out with an eager bounce in your step. Inside, you two find Lamine and Elaine waiting in a back booth, their laptops already opened on the table alongside a red box of fries.

“About time.” Elaine quips, not bothering to look up from her laptop when you and Pau slide into the bench across from her and Lamine.

“Someone,” Pau drawls out, eyes flickering to yours teasingly, “wanted her chips.”

Lamine laughs, sticking out his hand to Elaine who frowns as she places a few bucks into his open palm. “I told you.”

Your lips pull into a frown, “what the hell? You placed a bet—you know what. Whatever! I don’t even care. Moving along, who has the wifi password?”

“They haven’t changed it since we were last here.” Elaine informs, plopping a fry into her mouth.

Pau’s eyebrows quirk up, “they haven’t?”

Your elbow nudges his shoulder, “they are learning to love us!”

Lamine glances between the duo, sharing a quirked eyebrow with Pau when your hand lingered a bit too long on the boy’s arm, and Pau’s cheeks had flushed a bright red.

The thing was, Lamine had been trying to get Pau to tell you how he felt for months. Every time, the boy promised he’d do it ‘soon’. He never did.

As the night went on, the group studies quietly, sharing small talk here and there. You and Pau decided to leave early, opting out of the study session to go watch a movie at your house.

The second you two arrived back at your house, you had changed into pajamas and joined Pau on the couch. With your parents already fast asleep, they didn’t bother telling you what time to have Pau leave. This was quite a normal activity for you two; Pau coming over to your house and staying over while you guys half-pay attention to the movie playing.

Most of the time you two spent together was filled with you talking and Pau listening. Thats the sort of friendship you had. He loved to hear you talk, and, well, you loved to talk. Plus, Pau preferred it that way simply because he could avoid the stuttering mess you made him when you listened to him talk.

Even as you sat there, only a foot between each other as you talked. Your knees were pulled to your chest and you were going in on a conspiracy theory you happened to come across on Tiktok. Pau’s eyes darted across your face as you spoke, and you found it harder and harder to remember all the facts when his eyes kept wandering to your lips.

Maybe he should just tell you.

Your brain was spinning just trying to focus on the topic at hand, but you had enough. “Pau, will you stop. I’m trying to tell a story here.”

The boy blinks, taken aback at your random call out. “What?

“Whatever you’re doing with your eyes, stop. Look away, it’s like.. distracting.” You gulp, why was it distracting in the first place?

Pau nods, he hadn’t even realized what exactly he was doing, so he just avoided your face. That, though, was harder than he thought. All he wanted to do was look at you, to see your face, and now more than ever.

That was the hardest part about him liking you. He was so deeply enthralled with everything you did, having that taken away was horrible. Pau had started to hate away games for the simple fact that he saw you less.

“Okay, but also, this—Pau? Hi?” You wave your hand in front of the teen’s face. “You went off into another planet, did you even get the last part? It was kind of vital.”

“Sorry, I was thinking. Could you repeat?” He looks back at you, and finds his breath catching in his throat. Had you gotten closer? You did look beautiful in the TV lights glow.

You suck in a long breath, “okay. Prepare—“

“I like you.”

Oh.

Silence.

“Huh?”

Another long beat of silence.

Pau’s mouth parts, he didn’t mean to say that out loud. He really didn’t. “Whaaat.. who said that?”

It was your turn for your mouth to fall open, slightly shocked but more.. well. You started laughing. You were choking on your laughter, your hand clutching Pau’s shoulder as your head dipped down to rest on it. He was laughing too, partly humiliated, partly-amused.

When you finally calmed down and look back up at him, you take a deep breath, swiping a hand in front of your face for dramatic effect. “Okay, i’m done. Sorry. Say it again.”

“Uhm… say what?”

“Quit playing with me Pau. Say it again so I can have a serious reaction.” Crossing your legs, you wait for him to speak again.

Pau feels his face grow hot. He really didn’t want to do that. “Do I have to?”

You blink, “what? Did you not mean it?”

His face flattens, “what? No! No, I did mean it… it’s just embarrassing.” He exhales, attempting to calm himself down. He truly did mean it, he just didn’t want to say it without a certain response from you.

His eyes meet yours and he notices the almost hopeful look in your eyes. “I like you.” He says slowly, cautiously.

“I like you too.” You smile, the weight of your once hidden feelings dissolved as the words tumbled off your lips.

Pau’s heart feels heavy with the emotions rushing through it. “Yeah?”

You nod, “yeah.” You weren’t sure what to do next, but truthfully, neither did he. Instead, you both sat there with stupidly wide smiles on your faces and rosy cheeks.

“I wonder if Lamine and Elaine bet on this too.” Pau suddenly blurts, cutting the tension you’d just formed. He laughs nervously, causing you to laugh in turn.

“Probably.” You agree, “maybe we just shouldn’t tell them, not for a bit.”

Pau’s eyebrows pull together, confusion flashing across his face. “Why?”

You shrug, settling into the couch beside him, a bit closer this time. “I dunno, I kind of want to have this to ourself for a little while… not long, but, y’know?”

Understanding what you meant, the boy leans back against the couch, his arm draping over your shoulder’s and pulling you into his side. “Yeah, I don’t mind that.”

You smile against him, your stomach fluttering when you process the boy you’d had feelings for since you were thirteen, liked you just the same. He was finally yours.

Pau sat back too, smiling to himself. This meant he could finally call you his, and vise versa. He’d waited for this moment for a very long time and he was very grateful for his lack of… self control.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in any pau posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby @unx100to !

[hxney-lemcn]

Late Night Chaos — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: you become the first of many tragic deaths...

tw: murder, graphic descriptions of injuries, suicide, descriptions of a corpse, spoilers for all of the game basically

a/n: LAST PART! gosh I had such an evil smile writing the beginning of this. sorry that the end is literally just the game, I wasn't sure how to make commentary on it that the game doesn't do beautifully already :(

wc: 2.9k

Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

no

no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

This couldn’t be real.

“They came at me like they went mad.”

You couldn’t be gone, you wouldn’t leave him like that.

“I had no choice!”

Daisuke felt like he was going to puke, your unfocused eyes staring at the ceiling, lips slightly parted and the darkening skin around your neck. 

“It was either me or them.” 

Daisuke felt his hands shake. He couldn’t accept this, there was no way you were dead. You would get up any second and say this was a prank. Please. He doesn’t think he can handle this. You had been the only one keeping him sane, the only one he found comfort in, the only one to stand up for him if he felt uncomfortable doing something. You both were supposed to get off this rock together. You were supposed to meet his parents and have dinner and…and…and

Daisuke felt himself let out a sob, rushing towards your body and falling to his knees. Shaky hands reached out towards your face. You felt cold. You weren’t supposed to be this cold. You needed a blanket, or…or something. His hand went from caressing your cheek to holding your hand, bringing it up to his face. Your knuckles were bloody, but Daisuke didn’t care, he just wished you could cup his cheek again, reassure him that everything would be okay and you would always be there for him. 

Swansea scoffed at Jimmy, glaring daggers at the man, “Right, like they were much of a threat.”

“You think I’d lie about this?” Jimmy seethed. “You think I enjoyed doing that?”

Anya felt like herself plunging even farther down her spiral of madness. Why the hell did she tell you? Every time she tries to speak up, to get comfort, to find help for what’s happened to her she finds another tragedy left in her wake. First it was the crash and Curly, now you’re dead…who else will get hurt because of her? She couldn’t even look at your body or face Daisuke. Your cloudy eyes seemed to be taunting her, blaming her, and Daisuke’s sobs were like a stab to the heart. 

“Maybe you did,” Swansea glowered, bumping harshly into Jimmy’s shoulder as he walked past towards Daisuke. “C’mon kid, you shouldn’t see ‘em like this.”

“N-no!” Daisuke protested, trying to free himself from Swansea’s grip on his shoulder, clinging onto you desperately. “I-I can’t leave them. I just can’t…”

…

Your death made the tension on the ship worse. It caused the crew to be more distrustful of Jimmy, something he hated. Who did they think they were to judge him? You were like a wild animal, your assault had no end in sight? Was he supposed to let you beat him to a pulp? It’s not like there were enough medical supplies for that, and for all he knew you weren’t going to stop. 

Daisuke’s cheerful demeanor had darkened, but he still tried to keep a smile on his face, even if it was wobbly and didn’t reach his eyes. He would try to joke, to say something silly to lighten the atmosphere, but it started to come out forced, and he couldn’t help but imagine how’d you react. Would you laugh? Smile? Roll your eyes and shake your head? And just like that he’d feel his mood drop all over again. 

It had been a month since your death and he still couldn’t move on. He had got to know you over eight months, and for five of them you both were dating. Gosh, you really made the trip go by so quickly (even though it felt like you had been in space forever). And after the crash, you made it just a bit more bearable to be sitting like a waiting duck in the middle of nowhere. But now you’re gone, and the crash happened five months ago, and he could feel the despair start to consume him slowly but surely. 

Anya had kept to herself more than usual as well, tending to Curly as best she could. They ran out of clean bandages ages ago, so she couldn’t tend to his wounds as well. They had no more disinfectant, so the best she could do was try and keep him as comfortable as possible. Just focus on doing her job so she couldn’t think too much, so she wouldn’t think of how Curly's silent stare reminded her of your blank gaze. Try to keep her cries to herself when she was alone in the medical bay with Curly. 

Swansea was vehemently trying to protect the last working cryopod. He thought you and Daisuke were the most worthy of it, but fell under the dilemma of who it would go to between you both. It was clear neither of you would leave the other, and Swansea knew better than most what it was like to be completely infatuated with someone. When you believe you’d do anything for them, that you’d rather die than see them hurt. Seems like Jimmy solved that little problem for him. Swansea couldn’t help but internally seethe when he saw your body. If you were angry enough to throw a punch, then whoever it was you were punching deserved it, ‘cus you were one of the most level headed ones of them here. 

Jimmy? Oh, he was spirling further and further. The judgemental looks Swansea sent his way, or how Daisuke seemed to avoid him like the plague…he felt his control slipping, and he needed a way to feel in power again. To feel like he was in charge. So he took it out on Anya, the first person he’d go to when he needed to be in control. Whispering harsh words without an ounce of guilt, venom seeping past his lips and poisoning those around him.

Anya couldn’t take it anymore, the entire situation was too much. Jimmy terrified her, and the guilt was eating her from the inside out. She couldn’t handle it, rushing to the medical bay and locking the door. Curly’s stare pierced through her as Daisuke called out to her, asking if she was stuck. Anya didn’t have the heart to tell Daisuke how terrified she was, how the medical bay was her only safe place. So she told him she couldn’t leave, hoping everyone would leave her alone.

She was scared. Scared of what Jimmy would do in response to her pregnancy, her refusal to follow what he wanted. He had proven her fears right. That he was willing to kill. She thought hiding the gun or the fact that Swansea kept the axe would be enough protection, but he had killed you with his bare hands…

But sweet, sweet Daisuke was worried for Anya. Asking Jimmy for help, not wanting to see another crew member dead. Especially not Anya, you cared for her so much, he couldn’t imagine the despair you’d go through if she were to pass. 

“Anya!” Daisuke called through the thick metal door. “I brought Jimmy! We’re here to rescue you! Don’t worry! Don’t panic!” It was meant to be reassuring, but it seems like Daisuke was trying to comfort himself as well. 

“Hey,” Jimmy called out nonchalantly. “Heard the lock’s broken.”

Anya felt her heart drop, hands shaky as she refused to respond. 

“Hey. Anya!” Jimmy spoke louder, feeling irritated now. “Can you hear me?”

“...yeah, I can hear you, Jimmy,” Anya replied. Looking at the last of the paracetamol and grabbing it, sitting down beside Curly’s cot. 

“There rest of our medicine stash is in there too. Damn, this could be bad,” Jimmy grumbled, clearly not caring about Anya’s safety. “Did you really put your back into it?” “Any wrenches laying around?” Daisuke asked, the pit in his stomach only growing. “How heavy is the med kit?!”

With no response, Daisuke tried jiggling the handle again, his efforts being fruitless. 

“...Anya,” Jimmy called out coldly. “Is the door really stuck?”

“...” 

The silence caused bile rise in Daisuke’s throat. No, no no no

“No,” Anya replied strongly. 

No no no no. Not again. Daisuke tried more desperately to jiggle the handle. 

“H-huh?” Daisuke called out, trying to see any way that this wasn’t as bad as it looked. “What do you mean?!”

“Look, we’re all stressed,” Jimmy scolded, brushing off her emotions. “But you can’t go breaking down at every little hardship. Open the damn door.”

“...you were right,” Anya spoke out, hands failing to open the cap a few times. “You were right all along. I should have done this from the beginning. I always believed that our worst moments didn’t define us. Didn’t make us beyond repair.”

A strange sense of calm fell over the practicing nurse as the safety lid finally opened. It was going to be over, finally. 

“You think I wanted this either?” She laughed humorlessly, a grim smile on her lips. “Make no mistake, this isn’t my worst moment. Far from it. It’s the best one I’ll ever make.” 

“Open the door,” Jimmy ordered, clenching his fists tightly. Daisuke placed his hand on the door, that dreadful sense of hopelessness tearing his heart apart. This wasn’t happening, no way. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Were her last words before she downed the rest of the pain medication. 

“Anya?!” Daisuke called out, banging on the door. “What does that mean?!”

…

This wasn’t right. Daisuke wearily eyed the vent that held sparking cables. 

“Swansea said it’s not safe,” Daisuke tried to argue against Jimmy’s demands to enter. “I know he forgot to tell us about the pod, but he knows, like, everything about this kind of stuff. Maybe we should just wait for him to wake back up…”

“You said you could handle it,” Jimmy glared. Everything was slipping out of his control, first you, then Anya, then Swansea…he’d be damned if he let Daisuke rebel too. “Swansea taught you well, right? Time to prove it. He’ll be impressed when he wakes up. Proud. He’ll understand why we had to do this, then he can explain himself.”

“You think so?” Daisuke asks, alarm bells ringing. Glancing back at the vent, Daisuke couldn’t help but think about how you’d react. Probably fight against this, yell about how dangerous this was and if Jimmy wanted someone to crawl through that hazard then he should do it himself…but you weren’t here anymore, and Swansea was passed out from a drink he made with Jimmy…and Anya…

“Daisuke,” Jimmy spoke sternly. “Everyone’s counting on you…Captain’s orders.”

And in that moment, it really felt like this all fell onto his shoulders. Jimmy’s arguments made sense…if he could save Anya and Curly, maybe he could make both you and Swansea proud.

“Y-yeah,” Daisuke nodded, trying to hype himself up. “I got this!”

“Okay…” He made his first step towards the vent. “H-here we go…”

Grabbing the ladder, he climbed his way into the vent. A sense of claustrophobia hit him right away, trying to avoid any curling livewire or sharp metal, but it was clear this was the wrong choice. Daisuke let out a sharp gasp, feeling his body get zapped by an unseen electrical current, letting out a groan when he felt something cut his skin. He couldn’t stop now though, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much it stung, how he started to feel sluggish. No, he pushed through, he needed to get to Anya, needed to make sure everything was okay. Ignoring the way tears pricked at his eyes, or how it took all his strength and energy to pull himself up into the medical bay, he needed to keep…

“Anya…?” Daisuke gasped out in horror, the pain both physical and emotional becoming too much. “...what d-did you do?”

…

Daisuke couldn’t stop squirming, he could still feel the stings of electricity, like his muscles had become a livewire themselves. The burns and cuts wouldn’t stop bleeding, and Daisuke felt worthless. This was all for nothing, and the two adults were arguing over him. 

“Don’t do anything,” Jimmy huffed, not sure if he was talking to Swansea or Daisuke. “Stop, stop, stop. I can fix this!”

Maybe it won’t all be bad…maybe you’re waiting for him. He just hopes his mom won’t blame herself, that his parents will be able to continue to live a happy life…

“Why do you keep fuckin’ saying that?” Swansea shouted. “Are you hearing yourself?!”

“I-I’m s-sorry…” Daisuke muttered out. This is all his fault, he should’ve never entered that stupid vent. It was too late for Anya anyways, and now Swansea was angry…he doesn’t even wanna think about how you’d react…

“We still have disinfectant, right?” Swansea asked, trying to think of a way to keep Daisuke alive. “The one from the extra medical stash? Get it! Now!”

Jimmy avoided Swansea’s gaze, looking down to a struggling Daisuke, grinding his teeth, “The cocktail, we…you…”

“The cocktail?!” Swansea roared, rightfully pissed. “What are you blabbering about?”

“That was your fault!” Jimmy deflected, pointing at the older man. “You would never have-”

“I-I had no choice.”

“You…” Swansea sneered, banging his fist against the wall. “Useless! You goddamn fucking idiot! There has to be something else!”

Daisuke wasn’t sure how long they left him alone, but he found himself coming to terms with his fate, feeling guilty. He had always been a useless mess up, a last minute intern who didn’t even want to be here. It seems like even his final moments were because he fucked up. 

“I’m so…rry,” Daisuke struggled to speak as Jimmy crouched next to him. “I messed…up…mgh.” He wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle the way his muscles continued to tense and relax, like he was being continuously electrocuted. He could feel his wounds pulse with every contraction, blood trickling out like a steady stream. 

“Don’t try to talk,” Jimmy ordered, uncapping the bottle of mouthwash, pouring it on his wounds. 

…

“...the bleeding won’t stop,” Jimmy mumbled. “Just try to stay still, Daisuke. I-I need a second to think. We can fix this.”

“Hey, kid?” Swansea called out softly. “You hear me?” Daisuke could only make a strangled groan in response, everything felt like it was on fire and he could feel his body cry out for sleep, but the pain wouldn’t let him rest. Even breathing became a task he had to focus on.

“Daisuke?” Swansea called out again, feeling his heart break further at the sight as Daisuke jolted up in pain. “Hey!” Jimmy shouted, watching in horror as Swansea picked up the axe. “Stop, stop, stop! Don’t move!”

“It’s alright Daisuke,” Swansea comforted his young intern. “Calm down. This line of work…you could have never become like miserable ol’ Swansea. What a tragedy. Decades of hauling ass for Pony Express, big mighty bruiser with all his shiny tools. This is where it got me. The good life, huh?”

“I thought you were dumber than a can of paint, always just chewing my ear off about nothing,” Swansea continued. “Useless ray of goddamn sunshine. Not an ace student, workhorse or force of ambition. Just a damn good kid trying his best. You coulda taught an old fool like me a lot.”

“...”

“Close your eyes, Daisuke.”

…

no.

no no no no no no

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! Everything was fine! He had it all under control! Swansea had gone crazy, that’s why he killed Daisuke, that’s why Jimmy was forced to tie him up before he was another victim to the crazy madman. This wasn’t his fault. No one was letting him fix a goddamn thing! This was all because everyone stepped out of line. First you attacked him, then Anya decided to be selfish, then Swansea murdered Daisuke, now he is being attacked again. None of this was his fault, not a goddamn thing.

“I have something to say,” Swansea spoke up calmly, not batting an eye as Jimmy stood before him holding the gun. “So shut the fuck up and listen.”

But Jimmy wasn’t having it. No. He couldn’t listen, because if he listened, then he’d have to take responsibility. He’d have to admit that he failed, that they died because of his selfish actions. Clutching the gun just a bit tighter, Jimmy spoke resolutely.

“Swansea…I’m going to fix everything. We’re going to make it.”

“Fuck you.”

…

This would all be over now. It’ll all be fixed. He knew exactly what he needed to do. Curly’s stare burned through him as he carried his former Captain. This was the only way now, the only thing he could do to make this better. Swansea was right, a captain goes down with his ship, so that left only one person to take the cryopod. 

“It’s okay, Curly,” Jimmy consoled through the glass panel. “You’re going to be okay. You always had my back. I ended up hurting you even though I was trying to save us. But now you’ll survive. It’s like you said, together we can fix anything. I’m just proud I got to be your friend and co-pilot, Captain.”

“No one can hurt you now. We fixed it.”

“I…fixed it…”

[dubina-dawkins]

STRESS

~850 words

>After long missions Ben is obviously stressed. What else can you do if not help him?

warnings/notes: smut, minors dni! oral (m receiving), female reader but there aren't many real descriptions other than calling reader a "heroine", no usage of y/n, no proofread I'm gonna die, ben is being canonically really rough, but there's just a bit of his softer side i wish was there in canon so maybe ooc, supe!reader, reader is a second captain of payback (like starlight in the third season but no parallels between starlight & homelander and reader & soldier boy)

REBLOGS WILL BE APPRECIATED!

It hadn't been a hard day, not even a hard week, it had been going on for a hell of a long time. Everyone was on edge, even Tessa and Tommy were exhausted, and if all those missions, he filming of that stupid movie Legend had insisted on, could exhaust the twins, whose energy had always burned like dynamite, pun intended, then obviously no one had any energy at all.

People deal with stress in different ways. Some people try to abstract themselves from society - that's what Mindstorm did, and something in you told him that if he missed one more training session, then as soon as his coat even looms in Soldier Boy's peripheral vision, Dan would be dead.

Some were trying to forget themselves in training, and some were trying to beat the crap out of them in training. And you, as co-captain of this incorrigible team, as a supe who still had some humanity left in her, it was unbearably painful to watch Ben take it out on the others. But not at you, of course. Of course not at you, you were fucking special.

For instance, you were special when you sat between his legs in the meeting room.

No, don't think anything terrible, Ben wasn't the kind of man who would force a woman to do something like that, after all, he may have been a bastard, a misogynist and...a lot of other bad things, but he was a real man of his time - or at least he thought he was. In his opinion, it was much more manly to get a woman to fall at his feet - in this case, literally.

No, it's just that after he almost smashed Black Noir's head on the table during today's meeting, you had no doubt that he could use some stress relief.

And who, if not the second captain of the Payback, America's No. 1 heroine, on a par with the Statue of Liberty, could help him, America's greatest hero, become even a little more forgiving? The answer was obvious: no one. Did you do it out of fear, Stockholm syndrome, or because the only humanity left in you somehow cherished the bastard? It wasn't that important. Not now, anyway.

Not when his big hand was clutching your hair, painfully pulling back and literally slamming your head into his lap again and again. His cock slammed into your throat with a sharp and tremendous pressure, and somewhere through the veil of your own pleasure in the process you could hear his absolutely animalistic growl. Well, knowing that you could bring him to such a primitive state fueled so much pride in your chest that you obviously grew bolder.

You could grip his shaft lightly with your teeth, which made your hair pull back especially hard, forcing you to let go of his length from your mouth. You only laughed, and Ben only feigned annoyance.

And just a few moments after that, he's back to exhaling your name gutturally, stretching the "r" sound especially hard when he says you're his "good girl". And soon enough, Ben's grip on your curls tightens, and he's moving your head at an unsteady pace in pursuit of his pleasure alone. You suppress your gag reflexes, because to your great surprise, not only he likes it, but you as well. You were definitely a masochist.

His growls, guttural moans, and sloppy grunts mingled with your whimpers and the wet slapping of your face against his heated skin. How strange was it that you were ready to cum now without even touching your needy slit with your fingertips, just from the feel of his huge length in your mouth? It was probably very strange, but you didn't have that thought in your head, or any other, God, Ben had literally fucked the shit out of your brain, because all your sick mind was thinking about was his voice, his face, his hands, just fucking him. Thrust, thrust, another thrust--

He stops abruptly, apparently not wanting to end it like this. Soldier Boy lets go of your hair, pats your head approvingly (a rare sign of tenderness on his part!) and then takes up the locks again to lift your face off his still-hard cock, glistening in a mixture of pre-ejaculate and your saliva. He grins smugly, taking your chin with his finger. Judging by the fact that he's even allowed himself that smirk, some of his stress is already gone. But this is not enough.

"Get up, love. And sit on the table," he growls, lifting you off your lap as you almost hit your head on the edge of the table, and Ben lowers himself to you, pressing his lips dangerously close to yours in a scalding kiss. His lips taste gross, a mixture of expensive whiskey, weed, and smoke, but you grasp the taste with your whole life line. But before you can even open your mouth to his tongue, Ben soon pulls away, biting your bottom lip.

"I'm not going to end this with you so easily."

a/n: of course know this man is huge asshole and i hate him with all of my heart but your honor he's played by jensen ackles so he can be pardoned. idk what was the last time i written smut tbh

[venusindelusion]

Giving In (to the Love): Too Sweet

3rd chapter

SUMMARY: Being in charge of someone's education was heavier than you thought, but tonight doesn't have to be all about books and notes. PAIRING: Vi (Arcane) x Fem!Reader WK: 4K WARNINGS: bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, cursing A/N: slow slow slow burn Second chapter

After that encounter in the cafeteria you're left feeling nervous and mad, how could she make fun of you so lightly? Didn't her sister told her you weren't the one giving her booze?

You decide to skip your next lesson and head straight home. Once you're inside the elevator, you look for your phone inside your bag and send a text to Caitlyn asking her what time is she coming over.

The elevator stops at your floor and while you're searching for your keys, you see Caitlyn standing in front of your apartment door, carrying some bags on one hand and the other one typing on her phone.

"I didn't know you were here." you say as you approach her, smiling and looking curiously at her bags.

"I wanted to surprise you but I forgot to bring the spare keys you gave me." she says as you turn the key around and open the door.

Once inside, Caitlyn leaves the bags on the table and takes out the fast food she had bought, preparing everything for both of you to eat lunch together. You get into the bathroom and wash your hands and face, then look into the mirror; you felt like shit, and you could feel your mind spinning a thousand miles a second— guilt was cursing through your veins and you couldn't help but wonder what it was about.

Except you did know.

You grab a towel and dry both your hands and face, feeling like cold water didn't do much to your anxiety so you get out of the bathroom and sit in front of your best friend at the table. Both of you start chatting about your day; she tells you that her boss, Marcus, had been driving her crazy all day long until she finally found those papers he was asking for and then let her off for the day. You told her about all the exams you had to grade and then mentioned that Violet's was in that pile too.

"So you took revenge, huh." she says jokingly and chuckles.

"In my defense, it was a mess anyway and," you feel your stomach tied up in a knot, thinking if it was really okay for you to tell her— no, to do it entirely, "now I have to tutor her, so the universe punished me for it already."

You can't decipher what her expression means while she's looking at you but she keeps chewing on her food and laughes lightly. The awkwardness doesn't leave your body and you start thinking you may be going insane, why did you think so much of it? It was just tutoring.

"If it makes you feel any better, she's smarter than she gives on."

What was supposed to make you feel relieved just had the opposite effect. You didn't know they were that close, Caitlyn never mentioned her before that night and now it felt like she was keeping more from you than she might be telling. She is supposed to be your best friend, why wouldn't she tell you she was seeing someone if they were that close?

Food already eaten, you get off your seat and clean the table, grabbing the remaining leftovers and putting them in the fridge for later. You felt a bit sad, and maybe jealous. There was a part of Caitlyn's life you weren't aware of and, for some reason, now you were afraid to ask.

Working after classes sucked, but what sucked even more was having to look for someone who could cover her at work; it couldn't be just anyone. She wouldn't care if the place belonged to someone else and her life didn't literally depend on it, but "The Last Drop" was hers to take care of now. Well, almost.

"Can't pick you up today, Powder." she says, holding her phone on her ear with one hand and organizing bottles on the shelf with the other. "Come straight home, okay? I don't want you messing around again."

Violet could hear her younger sister complaining on the phone about how controlling she was and what plans she already had that night with her friends. It was always the same argument so she let Powder vent about it while she was rearranging the expensive bottles' shelf, hoping that the old wood would resist the weight and not make her lose thousands of dollars. She needed to replace those shelves.

"Look, Pow-pow," holding her phone between her neck and shoulder, Vi kept on trying to convince her sister, "bring Ekko if you want, I could use his help anyway."

With her little sister convinced, Violet put down the phone on the bar and looked over the place; everything needed to be done and she was already feeling tired, both physically and mentally.

All day she had been going around, signing papers and then attending classes. The only time in the day she could actually relax— or unleash some stress, was in the ring; throwing punches, sweating, analyzing her opponent's movements just to finally bring them down. She felt capable, strong and even good at it.

But this? Going to college, watching over her sister, working and barely sleeping; that was hard. It felt impossible at times.

"You've got a good heart," she remembered her father saying, "don't ever lose it. No matter how the world tries to break you."

Those words were like fuel for her, that memory has kept her going for years and it still worked now. She had to bear, just a bit longer.

Violet grabbed her phone again and sent a text to Caitlyn, letting her know that she'd probably be busy the rest of the week because she needed to study. Hard. She got an instant reply, "We'll meet as soon as you can."

Feeling relieved, Vi sighed and continued cleaning and organizing everything at the bar. She was thankful for meeting Caitlyn, it was not long ago and she was already changing her entire life— is this how hope felt? It's been years since she had something to look forward to.

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, The Last Drop was ready to be opened but still no one could cover for her. Hearing the keys from the backdoor alerted Violet that her sister was finally home, so she went to greet both Powder and her friend.

"I brought some donuts from work." said Powder, leaving the box on the table. "Although they're dry, that's why I got to bring them."

Violet grabbed one and muttered something about the donuts being dry indeed, but she shrugged it off and ate one anyway. She started her way back to the bar, Ekko following behind her and eating his own dry donut.

"Powder told me about your tutoring lessons," he said as he was chewing, "I can cover for you here, you know."

"I didn't ask."

"I'm offering." he replied as soon as he saw his friend's expression, she was clearly uncomfortable and unexperienced when it came to receiving some extra hands. "C'mon, Vi. I know how the business works and I can handle tough costumers."

Violet had to think about it for a bit; it's true that he knew how the bar worked and handling drunken men wouldn't be a problem for him— if anything, God help the idiot who dared to mess with him, but she had never left anyone to run the place without supervision, not even her sister. However, she didn't really have any other option, she couldn't afford to close for even one night. Those debts wouldn't pay themselves.

"Be puntual, no drinking while working and no letting Powder steal any booze, got it?"

"Got it."

She gave him a nod and finished her donut, then went to the back to let Powder know that she was going to be busy the rest of the night. After a short speech about being responsible, helping Ekko and making her swear that if anything came up she would call her immediately, Violet made her way upstairs and into the apartment.

It was strange having some free time on her hands, she was used to running around and work all night until late, but she figured it was a well deserved break; although she was worried about leaving Ekko and Powder in charge of the place.

"She's ready," Violet thought to herself, it was about time to give her sister more credit. She deserved it, after all; Powder was way smarter than most people, only lacking in concentration but that's normal for a teenager, and Vi wouldn't want her little sister feeling like she had to behave like an adult so soon.

Headed towards the bathroom, Violet decided she could use a hot shower and got inside the bathtub, filled it up with water and added her sister's bath salts into it. She had never tried them, but Powder was always telling her about how relaxed she would feel after if she tried them, so she did. And maybe it was because she was completely drained of energy, but it felt like they were working.

She could feel her body relaxing, her shoulders no longer tense and her eyes blinking heavily— these salts were like magic.

Once she finished cleaning and drying her body, she walked into her bedroom and chose some comfortable pants and a big sized T-shirt, then some bandages for her knuckles; today's training had been more intense than usual and she had forgotten to clean her wounds and covering them.

Back into the living room, Violet turned on the TV and laid down on the couch. This was the whole day off experience, now she just had to wait for her new tutor to text her so she could let her in.

Except, she didn't ask nor she gave her number, but there was no time to think about that as her eyes started closing on their own until she fell profoundly asleep.

The sun was already going down and Caitlyn had already left your place, wishing you good luck and telling you to let her know once you were back safe and sound. After taking a shower, you go to your room and decide what to wear; you weren't sure if you were supposed to dress comfortable or as if you were going out— it was a bar, after all. You remember Violet saying she would close the place so you could study at peace and decide to wear some casual but cute clothes, then grab your bag and turn off all the lights. Once you're out of your apartment, you grab your phone and attempt to send her a text, but she never gave you her number, and you didn't gave her yours. You shrug it off and think that she must surely remember you were going over and call the elevator.

You decide you would walk to the bar instead of calling a cab, it was a beautiful night and you were still going to arrive earlier than expected, hoping the walk would calm your nerves even a little. It was the first time you had to tutor someone, you were used to grading exams and doing other academic work but being in charge of someone's education felt heavier than that, specially when you were asked to do it by Viktor; he was more than a professor to you, you looked up to him and you wanted to be as smart and dedicated as he was. It was clear you didn't want to let him down, that's the only reason you accepted in the first place.

The Last Drop was near now and you could see all the lightning coming out from the inside, strong neon colorful lights illuminating even its surroundings outside, the big shiny sign spelling its name and announcing the beggining of your night with your new student. Sighing heavily, you open the door and let the loud music penetrate your ears, you could smell the scent of cigars and sweat, people sitting in different tables chatting and drinking. You were confused now, this seemed far from being closed and you couldn't see Violet anywhere. Walking over to the bar counter, you can see the barman working hard as he was preparing two drinks simultaneously while receiving more orders from group of girls who were clearly going to keep him busy.

"Excuse me—" you say lifting up your finger in an attempt to get his attention, but he doesn't even flinch. "Excuse me!" you yell a bit louder and he turns around to look at you.

"Hey, what are you having?" he asks now looking at you.

"I'm looking for Violet. She works here, right?"

"Oh, you must be her tutor." he says while smiling, you give him a small nod. "That door back there," you follow his finger pointing to an old wooden door, "go upstairs and knock on your left."

Thanking him, you walk over to the door he pointed and read its sign "Personal Only", feeling a bit odd about crossing a forbidden door, you twist the knob and walk upstairs; it was a small place, you could feel the humidity on your skin and the lightbulb over your head twinkling like begging to be retired, the stairs were squeaking under your steps until you were finally facing the left door the barman had mentioned. You knock on it twice and wait, although a few minutes pass by and no one answers, so you knock three times and yell Violet's name. Still no answer. You hear some steps coming from the stairs and turn your head around.

"No answer?" moving her blue haired braids behind her shoulders, she shoves her hand inside her pockets and takes out a key. You greet her as she opens the door and lets you in first, chuckling for no apparent reason to you and leaves her keys on the table. You leave your bag on the same spot, feeling a bit uncomfortable being at someone else's house, someone you don't know that didn't even open the door for you. Maybe she forgot you were coming. "Vi, wake up!" you heard Jinx yelling.

Peaking to where the yelling came from, you see Violet laying on the couch with one leg spreaded and her feet touching the floor. She shuffles while her sister keeps yelling at her and then opens her eyes, looks at Jinx and then at you. Her eyes open wide and she sits straight on the couch, rubbing her eyes and murmurring, "I fell asleep."

"Yeah, no shit." her sister answers while she opens the fridge and takes out a bottle. "I'll be downstairs, bye." she opens the door and leaves both of you alone.

"Sorry, I wasn't planning on sleeping," she says now looking at you.

"Well, we should begin." you sit down at the table and watch her sitting in front of you. She handles you a glass of water and you softly thank her, taking a sip and feeling your throat was more drier than you noticed, your hands were shaking as you grabbed everything you brought from your bag; some books, your own notes and her failed exam.

"Cait said you're good at this," she says, "so please enlighten me." the smirk she gives you makes you both furious and nervous, you couldn't figure if she was really taking this seriously.

You decide to be the bigger person and ignore all her snarky comments so the lesson could begin. To your surprise, she took in everything you told her and she was a quick learner as well; listening carefully to your explanations and even taking her own notes, asking questions about the book and what she lacked in the exam. You tell her she should focus more on certain chapters and the logical part of the subject because, even though Viktor appreciated debates on his classes, his exams put emphasis on the scientific part and not so much on the student's interpretations.

As you continue the lesson, you start to think Caitlyn was right— Violet was way smarter than you thought.

Both of you decide to take a little break from studying and she brings snacks, putting the books and notes aside, she asks, "So how do you know Cait?"

"We've been friends since highschool, " you answer, "she was running some sort of campaign so each class could vote for a delegate or something. She convinced me to sign and we're inseparable since then." Violet laughs at that and makes you smile.

"Sounds like her." Curiosity got the best out of you and you ask her the same question. "Well, we—" someone opens the door, it was the barman. He starts telling Violet he needed her help with a drunk costumer, saying he was getting violent and couldn't calm him down. "Be right back." she says and leaves with him.

You sit there eating chips and waiting for her to be back, but then half an hour passed and you were feeling like a soldier's wife. Worry grows in the back of your head, what if something happened to her? Violet looked strong but that drunk violent customer could be stronger, and she didn't seem like the type of girl to walk out of a fight.

Unable to deal with your own head, you get off your seat and walk to the door. Just when you were about to twist its knob, the door suddenly slides wide open, startling you. It was Violet, standing in front of you, a bit sweaty but generally unharmed; she was so close to you, the air leaving out of her mouth when she apologized for taking so long felt like a fresh breeze against your face and you couldn't stop starring at her little scar on her upper lip. You wonder how she got that one and if she had any other somewhere on her body.

Before you could shake that thought off, you realised she might have noticed your stare because she licked her lip, just where the scar was, and smirked. Blood rushing to your cheeks, you turn your gaze somewhere else and say, "It's okay, I was just worried..."

"Come." she says and starts walking downstairs. You follow her steps into the bar, still feeling embarrassed, and at the end of the stairs you notice the overwhelming silence compared to the loudness of music when you first arrived. The bar was now closed and empty, just the two of you there. She goes behind the counter and grabs a bottle of whisky, pouring it into two glasses while you walk around to take a better look at the place. Warm lighting was on now that the neon lights were off, beautifully illuminating the decorated walls; pictures with different people on it hanged on them, most had a very muscular and tough looking man smiling with someone— you couldn't recognize anyone, but you could tell they were close to each other and that moment was definitely worth immortalizing on a frame. There were also drawings clearly made by a child, full of colours and love and joy, and you see one with two girls in it; a pink haired one with boxing gloves on her hands, fighting some sort of wolf while the blue haired one was cheering on her, a little toy monkey by her side. It made you smile.

"Powder made them." Violet says behind you, scaring you off a bit. She approaches you and hands you a drink, standing beside you now.

"Is it Jinx or Powder?" you ask sipping a bit of your whisky, you can feel it burning your throat and your nose scrunches making Violet chuckle.

"Powder, but everyone calls her Jinx." she answers, "Stupid nickname."

You hummed and watched her going behind the bar counter again, so you decide to sit in one of those fancy tall seats in front of her. You put your glass down and she refills it then her own.

"What happened to the violent costumer?" you ask.

"Kicked his ass and sent him home." she sips her whisky like it's juice, meanwhile you're already feeling dizzy. Strong liquor shouldn't be near you but you couldn't refuse when she refilled your glass again. You had to admit, her presence was strong; she was someone you couldn't ignore if she walked into a room, it's like her confidence drawn you in, clouding your senses and making you want more. It didn't exactly help that she was hot as hell. Still, you couldn't get out of your head the fact that the night you met her, she had been locked up in the bathroom with your best friend.

Both of you keep drinking and chatting, your curiosity growing stronger as you ask her if she runs this place all on her own, feeling pity when she answers, "Yes, been on it since my dad died."

Doubting a little but feeling the booze cancelling your inhibitions, you ask her, "What happened to him?"

"He got sick, " her expression changes, her jaw clenches and she takes another long sip at her glass, you watch the liquor going down her throat and then she speaks again, "it was a few years ago, Powder was still a child."

"And you?" you could feel your stomach tied up in a knot.

"Someone had to take care of things." she says while looking to the wall filled with pictures and drawings, her face seemed calmed like she was already used to this kind of life but you couldn't stop the sadness. "When he was in bed, he used to do these animal-like groans because of the pain, " surprisingly she smiles at that, "Powder used to say he sounded like a wolf."

You couldn't take it anymore and started sobbing, Violet looked at you surprised and then laughed, which made you feel embarrassed.

"Don't laugh, I'm already drunk." you tell her, rubbing your eyes and looking at her with your eyes furrowed.

She walks out from behind the counter and keeps laughing, standing beside you and helping you off your seat, she says, "Can't take strong booze, cupcake?"

That dumb nickname made your face go on fire, it didn't help that she was grabbing your waist to help you keep your balance and you could smell her scent, a mix of whisky and perfume, the warmth of her body next to yours as she was guiding you upstairs again.

"You'd know that, " you tell her, trying so hard to put one feet in front of the other, "you took a pic of it."

Violet opens the door to her place and helps you inside, she walks you to her bedroom and watches you sitting down on her bed. She leaves you there and you take a look at the room, it was tidy and well organized; her night stand had a frame of Powder, herself and their father. She comes back with a cup of coffee and hands it to you, looking at you expectantly. You take a sip of the coffee and make a face of disgust.

"I don't drink coffee."

"Yeah, I can tell." you answer her, still drinking that disgusting liquid she dares to call coffee. You can feel her gaze burning on you, the concern in her eyes even if she was making fun of you, it made your heart soften.

"Stay here tonight, I'll sleep on the couch." she says and puts her hand on your shoulder.

You inhale heavily, trying to ignore the sensation of her touch, even something as small as a reassuring hand is clouding your senses now. It wasn't just the booze anymore.

"Can't you sleep in your sister's room?" you ask her, trying to put your mind somewhere else.

"That's a rat nest," she chuckles and crunches her nose, "sleeping outside is safer." You hand her the empty cup and lay down, covering your legs with the sheets, her scent was impregnated in the pillow. Violet was still looking at you, her face inexpressive.

"I never gave your sister booze, " you say and she looks at you confused, "the other night, at the party, it wasn't me."

"I know," she closes her eyes and sighs, "that's just Powder testing my patience."

"An apology would be good," you say jokingly and she chuckles.

"You know what?" she smirks and raises one eyebrow, "If your tutoring is that good and I pass my exams, I'll take it down." You laugh and tell her that you shouldn't be punished for her stupidity, so she pretends to be offended and punches you softly. She watches you blinking heavily and stands up, turning the lights off and stopping at the door frame, "Good night, cupcake."

Humming in response, you close your eyes and let sleep take over you, ignoring the vibrations coming from your phone.

TAGS: @pokiiks

[oimitocat]

TTANG | OS

bang chan x m!reader

gun wounds + injury + violence + crying + death threats + coping mechanisms

a/n: i have another req. similar so stay tuned

security is on high alert. it’s been a week or so since the death threats have begun. maybe they should have expected it… as many people love you, there is always a few that hate you. it’s the blessing and curse of being famous.

ilogical, you’d say. super stupid. people that have nothing better to do and rile things up.

many (true) fans are defensive.

you and chan have talked about it. how good it feels to know the fans are taking care of them however they can. chan himself always makes sure things go right. he’s checking in with security, with managers. everything.

there is that slight worry. the members don’t exactly talk about it, but you yourself know they think the same as you. what if?

the concert starts and your enjoying yourself. you make contact with jeongin and grin. you fist bump with felix and laugh with minho when jisung makes a mistake. you talk to your fans and simply end up feeling at ease. you put your trust in security and management.

you check up on chan during outfit change.

“see, all good.” you say softly, rubbing his arm.

he nods. he’s pretty serious but you don’t put much mind to it. you trust that at the end of the night he’ll lighten up for real.

sadly, at the end of the night is when everything goes south. felix is talking as the show almost comes to an end. you casually look around at the hundreds of fans watching them- when you here a gunshot. everyone naturally ducks. the fans scream. security runs around. your in ear is suddenly ringing a noise in your ear.

your managers are screaming at all of you to run to backstage. you spin around and run, catching up to chan who, despite the situation, makes sure the other kids are backstage first.

“go!” you shove him, spinning him around at the entrance when the second gunshot is fired.

your bodyguards are barely getting on the platform to guard you and change whatever outcome could happen.

yet, at the third gunshot, you cover chan. your guards don’t make it in time to prevent the situation. your eyes widen when a pain shoots from your upper back. the impact itself sends you forward, stumbling down the flight of stairs. chan screams, so do the kids and staff waiting at the bottom.

a hiss and groan escape your lips when you hit the floor. you force your eyes to open, watching chan run down the stairs to reach for you. it’s so noisy- screams, orders and crying. yet, your ears muffle it out when you finally take your hand away from your chest. you had blood dripping between your fingers. your eyes flit to chan’s wide eyes, his hands grabbing your bloody one.

the pain subsides into numbness. you’re bleeding out on the floor, breathing is hard- then you’re on a stretcher. then you feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness.

then everything goes black. you can hear for a bit. you wish you could’ve heard chan’s voice instead of the EMT’s yelling out codes and whatnot. soon though, you truly black out.

it’s not a very comfortable sleep. literally felt like you were in a sleep paralysis. by the time you come to some awareness, that’s all you feel. you hear people talk. you feel when you’re moved to a bed. you knew when the lights were on or off. you felt cold sometimes and hot other times.

after who knows how long you actually were out for, you finally open your eyes. your manager gasps and sits up.

not even a few minutes later you’re popular by a couple nurses and a doctor. turns out the bullet hit your from the back breaking a rib and shot through. fatal, apparently.

you beg and ask for them not to tell the members. they already know you’re recovering, just not awake yet. you don’t want visitors.

it’s an agonizing few days. your manager keeps updating you on things. all you want is to be in chan’s arms, really. your body is still sore from the aftermath, but all you really care about is how chan is doing.

you know he’s strong. but you also know how much he can take. this isn’t something light. sometimes you close your eyes and remember how scared he was.

you miss him.

“what’s with that face?” chan sits up and whips his head around to look at you.

he opens his mouth but nothing comes out. he can’t even stand without stumbling. “y-y/n!”

“you’re supposed to be at the hospital-“ he falls silent when your fingers brush the side of his face.

“i got discharged an hour ago,” you say casually, sitting next to him on the bed. “so, what’s with that face?”

“i was just…” he stares at you. he knows you, so as much as he wants to pry and ask, he knows you’re not up for it. he shrugs, swallowing down his emotions while looking away. “thinking.”

“about me?”

“who else?” he chuckles dryly, “but about everything… i never thought anyone would actually go through with a threat…”

you watch him, “i mean we had talked about it, but experiencing it is different. i’m okay and that’s what matters.”

“but the bullet was for me-“

“it was for any of us.” he looks at you, “okay maybe it was for you. i don’t even know how but i just felt the need to be blocking you and then that happened. jyp already released a statement and like i said, what matter is…” you swallow when you see him wipe away his tears, “is that i’m fine. i’m alive. i’m here.”

there’s a silence that engulfs you. then, you pull him into a hug. “i’m here, chan.”

and he sobs into your chest. after days of holding everything in— his worry, his anger… his love. his fear of you not coming back. of something probably going wrong last minute and you don’t make it- “i love you so much,” he cries.

“i love you just as much,” you tighten your arms around him. “i think me taking that bullet proves it.” you pause when his arms twitch around you, “okay my bad, i shouldn’t joke about it.”

chan sighs, sniffling after. “that’s what i love about you… it makes me happy to know that you’re still you.”

“of course,” you wince a bit as you try to get him onto your lap to cuddle him better. “this is good. i have something to flex during interviews.”

chan snorts, shaking his head. he looks up at you, tears still glimmering in his eyes. you eye him, taking every detail of him. he’s so fragile now. you remember the look of absolute mortification when you were bleeding out on the floor. you lean in and kiss his lips before hugging him again. you bury your face into his neck.

“we’re fine, chan.” you whisper.

he nods, embracing you and closing his eyes.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Peaches Soup, except Wukong never got souped. It's just that he was so injured from his fight with the Thrall he ended up collapsing on the side of the road, and Pigsy happened to find him. Seeing he's so badly hurt, he brings him back to the Noodle Shop since A) he has a baby and B) the last thing Wukong coherently said before passing out on Pigsy was no hospitals. Wukong wakes up in the spare room of the shop approximately three days later, confused as to how he got there and panicked because his last memory was Xiaotian and him being attacked

That could be very much be the "#marbled stone egg au"!

For those unaware; Wukong in the au has a Stone Egg (basically his body doing rock-mitosis) and is struggling to take care of himself + baby MK.

I can see a situation occurring in the AU; where The Thrall still steals the Stone Egg/baby MK, and Wukong goes berserk mother-monkey on him, only to get severely injured in the process.

Pigsy finds an injured, pregnant monkey on the side of the road clutching a crying newborn, and wonders if this is one of those "what you do in the dark?" situations.

Mystery Monkey, defeated: "No hospitals, please." (*passes out clutching the newborn*)

Pigsy panics, thinking this is someone who just gave birth and is running from a disapproving/abusive home life. Gathering all his pig-dad strength, he lifts the unconscious monkey and newborn into the van.

Pigsy isn't a doctor, but he's patched up Sandy enough back in their military days to treat most wounds. The (still) pregnant monkey heals quickly, almost meditating in their sleep as the newborn rests beside them.

Tang is called in a panic. He knows about monkey demons, right? Any idea whats going on here?

After the initial shock of learning his best friend is hosting an undocumented injured demon, Tang is quick to find sources that can help (he aint a snitch). Namely what they can feed the baby monkey (which Tang melts at the cuteness of), and how to tend to it's unconscious parent.

They're thankful that the baby monkey only requires formula and a few diaper changes before it's parent awakens.

Wukong, jolting awake: "Xiaotian! Where is my Little Heaven?!" Baby!MK, besides him in a baby basket: (*grumpy squeak at being woken up!*) Wukong, overjoyed, pulls baby into arms: "Oh Buddha is gracious! You're safe! Are you ok? I'm sorry I was too weak to get us home." Baby!MK: (*happy chirpy noises at hearing it's parent's voice again! Reaches chubby little hands out to them*) Pigsy, sigh of relief: "Whew. Thank the gods you're ok." Wukong: (*turns and looks at his saviour with shock*) Wukong: "Piglet?" Pigsy, light-hearted laugh: "Heh, close enough. It's Pigsy. I found you and the little guy hurt on the side of the road. You said no hospitals so I brought you back here. Not exactly a surgeon, but I think I did ok." Wukong: (*looks at injuries and sees that they've healed well enough. Better than he would have thought given his Egg zapping his powers*) "Thank you. If there is anything I can do to repay you-" Pigsy, waves him off: "Nah, I'm good. You and the kid rest up here as long as you want. Tang's got an old phone if you need to call anyone. I'm making soup dumplings if you're up for eating." Wukong: (*completely in shock. Was genuinely not expecting this level of selflessness from a complete stranger. Eyes fixate on Xiaotian once more, the newborn sucking idly on a store-bought pacifier. Wukong finds himself smiling again for the first time in ages.*)

Although the mystery monkey "Qi Shihou" isn't likely to stay above Pigsy's for long (he has Stalwarts and an island to get back to), he never forgets the kindness Bajie's descendant showed him.

A teenager wearing skates frequently appears in the years following that encounter, picking up the exact same soup dumplings he fed the mystery monkey that night.

And if Pigsy opens an unmarked letter stuffed with yuan and literal chunks of gold from the strange monkey, then he ain't saying nothing.

Until they reunite accidentally through Xiaotian's noodle-loving tutor that is.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam: I can try.~ I like your place a lot but.... What if I literally out grow it?

He didn't want to not be able to fit in somewhere, especially Lucifer's house one day.

Lucifer: Do you think you will?

Adam: Hard to say, it may not happen right away but it could happen some day. And it's a nice place! I know Charlie is just a baby but she could run around here all she wants.

Lucifer thought about it and yeah that would be cool for her.

Lucifer: If we didn't?

Adam touched the door in a longing type of way: It'll just sit here. And yeah, it's kind of far away from everything else like places to buy food and such. But did I mention no neighbors?

Lucifer laughed: Yes you did. If we did you'd have to decorate, for a Prince there's not a lot to look at around the castle.

Adam: Yeah..... Mother didn't like flashy things.

Have you seen Resident Evil: Village? All I'm saying is Adam and Emily as two of the three sisters and Sera as Lady Dimitrescu.

Lucifer is Ethan trying to find Charlie.

At first, Adam was on his mother and sisters side- but because they have a weird thing against dudes, he eventually helps Lucifer.

Trust me, it feels illegal not to make Adam the stunning Lady Dimitrescu, but for story reasons, he'll be one of her kids.

I mean, their hot. What can I say? Adam would look great like this 🤷

Adam: Mmm- man flesh~.

Lucifer: ...Kinda gay, man.

Adam: It's not gay.

Lucifer: It is- man flesh? Really?

Adam: ...

Lucifer: ...

Adam: *stabs sickle into his leg and drags him away* Mother!

I have seen it! Ha I love this. ((Yes he'd rock being the Lady of the house 😩))

Lucifer: Ow!! What the fuck!?

Adam: It's not gay! Mother was right.

[ak319]

Oooo hear me out, it's up to you, something inspired by "me and the devil" by soap&skin for platonic arthur and reader?

(AN: Lmfao this is smth else, hope this caught the essence of the song!)

Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, fluff

──୨Pre-camp୧──

You’d always been content with the fact that Arthur and your friends hadn’t crossed paths yet. After all, there’s something universally embarrassing about siblings mingling with your friends, especially a brother like him. But today, fate seemed to be laughing at you.

You waited on the porch of Mrs Anne's house with Isla, Faye, and Mavis, caught up in a lively discussion that had everyone too engaged to notice time passing, mostly about what happened in your classes today. Usually, your friends would have left by now, but something had kept the whole group lingering in a close-knit circle.

“Alright, guys, we should really go,” Faye finally said, glancing around. Isla nodded, then smirked at you.

“Oh, right,” she teased. “Forgot you’re waiting for him. Where is he? Late again?”

You clutched your bag, trying to brush it off casually. “He’ll be here soon. You guys can head out if you want.”

Please do, please do, please do-

Before anyone could move, Mavis stretched lazily and patted your arm. “By the way, we’ve never actually seen him. I mean, I haven’t.”

“Trust me, he’s… well, you don’t want to,” Isla added, chuckling with an odd mix of awe and apprehension. “I have, and he’s terrifying, honestly.”

“Is he?" Faye raised an eyebrow at Isla's earlier comment. “I mean, your dad’s not like that. Quite normal, actually, like he’s nice.”

You rolled your eyes. "Isla, he's just a bit...tall that's it. Which to be honest I hate. I mean like how dare he be taller than me! Eugh. Anyway, you guys, he's nice too, much nicer than Dad I would say-"

"But I never saw him smile." God, Isla. She's literally your younger annoying sister who can't shut up, at this point.

"He does smile!"

You could feel Mavis and Faye’s curiosity prickling at Arthur’s character, especially since they had no clue about his line of work. Isla, though, knew enough, which left her more spooked than skeptical. You nudged her with a playful yet pointed elbow, a silent but clear Don’t spill the beans, or I’ll make you spill your teeth. Thankfully, she caught on quickly.

“Yeah, it’s more of a… ‘you had to be there’ situation,” Isla tried to wave it off, though her tone just made things more awkward. Before anyone could respond, a voice drifted over the porch, a voice that could freeze or haunt your dreams.

Arthur had arrived.

“(Y/n)!” Arthur’s voice cut through the chatter, and all four of you turned to see him, perched on his horse, dressed head-to-toe in black. But what really set your teeth on edge was the bullet belt strapped across his chest along with some guns, a blatant display of everything you’d been trying to hide. You glanced back at your friends, who stared in wide-eyed shock as if Arthur had just ridden straight out of a legend, or a nightmare. Isla, though, wore a triumphant smirk, her dramatic warnings about your “scary” brother proven right.

You shot them all a quick, apologetic goodbye before rushing over, and Arthur extended a gloved hand down to help you onto the horse. “Hurry your ass up,” he muttered. His gaze was sharp and impatient, and you climbed up with a sigh, half-irritated and half-resigned.

“Maybe you should try being patient, too,” you shot back, settling in behind him. The horse sprang forward as you waved at your friends over your shoulder, watching their stunned faces disappear into the distance as you and Arthur rode away.

Arthur’s gaze was sharp as he maneuvered the horse down the path, his voice edged with something darker. “Your friends looked like they’d seen death itself when I rode up. Got anything to explain?”

You tried for a casual laugh, but it came out shaky. “Maybe because you showed up looking like you were ready for a showdown, Arthur. You could have been less armed...y'know.?”

He glanced back at you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Less armed?

“Yeah, you didn’t have to look like you were coming to take me hostage,” you teased, though there was a tinge of nerves in your voice. “You nearly gave poor Mavis a heart attack.”

“Maybe she needs it,” he muttered with a hint of amusement, his hand gripping the reins tighter. “Ain’t my problem if your friends are scared of a bit of leather and metal. And excuse me , for not tryin' to make you wait and rushing here after the job."

You rolled your eyes, but decided to switch gears. “Anyway! Artieee....

Artie = I want something.

"What’s really important is that I’m starving.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t cook nothin’ today,” he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his tone.

Panic struck, and you scrambled for an excuse. “Well, I did cook even with a terrible headache, but Dad was starving, and he, uh… had some friends over, so they polished off everything.” You added a dramatic sigh for good measure, hoping it’d sell the story.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical but too tired to argue. “Him and his damned pals. You couldn’t save a single bite, huh?”

“Believe me, if I could’ve, I would’ve,” you lied, trying to keep a straight face. Truth is, you did cook and there was still food left for dinner but you were craving something else. Your Dad would definitely side with your lie anyway so why not take advantage of the opportunity.

"So…how about we grab some dinner? Just a little something for your favourite sister?”

Arthur groaned, but you could tell he was caving, being starved himself, “Fine."

You grinned, hugging his back as the horse picked up speed, your stomach already dreaming of food. Knew you’d come through, brother.

⋆⋆⋆

──୨Post-camp୧──

"So what's up with you?" Micah’s voice broke through the quiet, his tone drawn out in that infuriatingly lazy way, like he didn’t care about anything in the world. You kept your focus on the book in your hands, not bothering to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

"I mean, I know it’s only my second visit to the camp and all, but at least the other women talk. You, though..." His voice rose just a little, like he was trying to provoke you.

You didn’t flinch. The page turned, your eyes still scanning the words.

Micah, noticing he wasn’t getting any attention, stepped closer, his boots scraping against the dirt. "Hey! What’s up with all the attitude from you girls around here? I swear, the prettier they are, the more attitude they’ve got."

That was it. You set the book down, slowly, deliberately, and looked up at him with a level stare, the faintest flicker of irritation crossing your face.

"You should go, if you want to keep breathing," you said flatly, voice laced with a coldness that might’ve warned him to stop before things escalated.

He smirked letting out a scoff, clearly not taking you seriously. "Oh really? Why, doll? What’s so special about you?"

You didn’t answer. Instead, you let your gaze shift to the side, barely looking at him as you spoke, "My brother won’t be happy."

Micah blinked, caught off guard. "Brother? Who--"

Before he could finish, a heavy, familiar hand fell on his shoulder, spinning him around with ease. "Me." Arthur’s voice was low, smooth, and cold, a tone that instantly made the air around them feel heavier.

Micah’s face drained of color as he took in the sight of Arthur, standing tall and unwavering, his stare unblinking and intense. The recognition hit him hard, and the cocky grin that had been on his face moments ago faltered, turning into an awkward grimace.

"Oh...right, I see the resemblance now," he stammered, his confidence crumbling beneath Arthur’s unblinking gaze. "Didn’t know... didn't know it was you."

Arthur’s eyes darkened as he took a slow step toward Micah, his presence undeniable and terrifying. “You didn’t know, huh?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Let me make something clear, Micah. If you ever think it’s alright to speak to my sister like that again, you won’t have the chance to be this sorry.”

Micah’s smile faltered as he looked from Arthur’s hard face to yours, clearly realizing just how deep his mistake ran. He hesitated, then muttered, “I didn’t mean any harm, just jokin’ around cowboy, y’know?”

Arthur didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. His grip tightened slightly, and Micah’s hands immediately went up in surrender. “Yeah, you should’ve known better,” Arthur growled, his voice dropping even lower. “I don’t appreciate anyone talking down to my sister or any woman in the camp for that matter. Got it?”

Micah’s breath hitched, and his eyes darted between Arthur and you, his legs wobbling a bit under the pressure of the enforcer’s glare. He took a step back, quickly distancing himself, his earlier bravado long gone. “I, I’ll just go... No harm meant, alright?”

Arthur didn’t speak, only watched him with unwavering intensity, his posture stiff and unyielding, until Micah turned on his heel and hastily retreated, all but running.

Once Micah disappeared into the distance, Arthur exhaled slowly, his gaze now shifting back to you with a slight softening in his demeanor. “You good?”

"Hm. Thanks for that by the way." You answered nonchalantly, already reaching for your book again, satisfied with how things had gone. But before you could dive back into it, Arthur snatched it away from you with a swift motion.

"Wha--"

“Go fuckin’ read in your damn tent,” he snapped.

You blinked, surprised by the sudden shift in his mood. “Hey, don’t take your anger out on me too. I didn’t do anything.”

Arthur’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at you, still holding the book just out of your reach. “You’re sitting here, reading, like nothing happened.”

"So I just stop existing because... what? Men like him exist?!" You shot back, annoyance flashing in your gaze.

He sighed, clearly over it. "Yeah, yeah, you win the debate, but for now, go. He still has some work left here in the camp. You stay inside. Now stop yapping and go before I-"

You cut him off with a dramatic roll of your eyes, but you didn’t want to test his patience. Grumbling, you stood up and scurried toward your tent, throwing a glare in his direction as you went. Arthur didn’t bother replying, just watching you with an unreadable expression as you ducked inside. You couldn't stop yourself from imagining how he was still standing there, no doubt watching over the camp with that ever-present watchfulness of his.

But deep down, there was a strange comfort in knowing Arthur was there, looking out for you. You couldn’t help but feel grateful for the sense of security his presence brought, even if it came with its moments of irritation.

You were luckier than most women, the ones who had no one to protect them, to guard their well-being when this society felt too harsh. You had never had to face that, not completely.

Your brother could’ve just left you to fend for yourself when both of your parents died. He could’ve given up, and let the weight of responsibility crush him. He could’ve taken the easy route, let you fend for yourself, but he didn’t. He chose to provide, to protect. And that, in itself, was something you could never take for granted.

You smiled softly to yourself as you opened your book again, getting comfy. It wasn’t perfect, your life, and it didn’t come without its complications, but it was yours, and you knew you weren’t alone in it. Arthur’s attempts, and his constant presence, always reminded you that no matter what happened, he would always try. That thought made everything a little easier to bear.

Speaking of....

You were tailing behind Arthur as he checked the items on the list. Just another day buying out supplies when your eyes caught the movement outside the general store’s window. A man was yanking a woman by the arm, his grip forceful, and he struck her hard before pulling her toward a nearby house.

Your heart hammered. “Arthur…”

“Hold on.” He didn’t look up, tossing another can into the basket you held.

“Arthur!” Your voice trembled as you grabbed his arm. “That woman… He’s hitting her. Aren’t you going to do something?”

He finally glanced at you, an irritated look flickering across his face until he saw the worry in your eyes. He followed your gaze out the window, his expression darkening as he took in the scene.

“That bastard’s beating her…” you hissed. “I’ll go to the sheriff if you won’t.” You started to take a step, but Arthur’s hand shot out, gripping your arm like iron.

“Hey, hey! You ain’t runnin’ off to the station,” he growled, his tone as unyielding as his grip. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?” You tried to pull away, anger mixing with shock. “How can you say that when she needs help?!”

The shopkeeper, who had been eavesdropping, chimed in with a lazy shrug. “That’s Carter for you. Mean drunk, that one. Nothing new around here.”

"Arthur," you insisted, voice edged with urgency, "we can’t just stand here and ignore this! You’ve got to do something!”

He looked back at you, his eyes narrowing with frustration mixed with something softer, a concern he rarely showed outright. “And what, exactly, would you have me do? Burst in there? People like him, they’ve got the whole damn town used to their mess. It ain’t as simple as you think.”

You clenched your fists, your heart pounding. “So we just let it happen!?”

Arthur scoffed, glancing down at the basket you held with a resigned shake of his head. "I’m not sayin’ we do nothing. I’m sayin’ we’re not the ones here to play heroes every time some bastard acts up." He looked away, jaw tight. But then suddenly, your dejected face stung something within him. It always does.

"Fine, but let's get this shopping done first."

You bounced impatiently on your heels as Arthur went through the rest of the list, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally loaded up the last of the supplies. He gestured for you to sit in the wagon while he headed off to “handle things.” Minutes later, you watched as the blonde woman stumbled out of the house, her face streaked with tears. You jumped off the wagon and hurried over, helping her onto the seat beside you.

“Don’t worry, your husband will definitely rot in the jai-”

The words barely left your mouth when the sharp crack of gunshots rang out from the house. A moment later, Arthur sprinted out, leaping onto the wagon and snapping the reins with urgency, the horses lurching into a gallop.

“What--what was that?” you stammered, glancing at him in shock. Even the woman had stopped sobbing, her eyes wide as she clung to the edge of the wagon.

Arthur shot you a level look, his tone matter-of-fact. “I did what you asked.”

“I said jail, not… not blowing his brains out!”

“If you think they take in men jus' for that, you still have a lot to learn, and aren't you happy...? That son of a bitch had it comin',” he replied calmly, not sparing you a glance as he kept his gaze on the road ahead.

You fell silent, a part of you taken aback but another part feeling a grudging agreement with his logic. The jail thing was indeed a dumb idea. You do feel happy. "You know what? You’re absolutely right, probably the best thing you ever did,” you murmured, giving a subtle, reassuring smile to the woman sitting beside you. She was still in shock, her hands trembling as she took it all in. You deliberately missed Arthur giving you a dirty look on your comment.

“Um, don’t worry,” you said softly. “You’re safe now. He deserved it.”

The woman’s gaze flickered, her fear giving way to hesitant relief as she managed a weak nod. “Damn right he did,” she added, her voice firm. "I kinda...I always wanted to do that."

You giggled, glancing back at her with a grin. “Today's your lucky day then. What’s your name? Mine’s (Y/N) Morgan and this is my brother, Arthur.”

She took a shuddering breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “K-Karen.”

“Do you have anywhere to go, Miss Karen?” Arthur interjected, his tone gruff but not unkind.

“N-not really,” she mumbled, looking down, her hands twisting in her lap.

Arthur shot you a look that clearly said, You started this. Now what the hell are we supposed to do?

You cleared your throat, searching for the right words. “Um, the thing is, Karen… we, uh, well, we live in a camp where people are… let’s just say, not exactly law-abidin-”

“We’re outlaws,” Arthur cut in, his tone blunt as always.

“O-outlaws?” Karen’s eyes widened, her grip tightening on her skirt.

“Yeah, unfortunately…” you mumbled, casting a sideways glare at Arthur. “And not 'we', I’m not! I’m…just you know....there and normal.”

Karen blinked, her initial shock giving way to an expression of deep thought. Then, to your surprise, a hint of excitement crept into her face, as though she’d stumbled upon something she’d been waiting for her whole life.

“You know… I may not look it, but I’ve got skills,” she said with a newfound confidence, sitting up straighter. “Real skills that could be useful. My old man never liked it, but I’ve learned a thing or two about… pickin’ locks, sneakin’ around, that sort of thing.” She looked between the two of you, her smile growing. “Maybe I could… you know, join you?”

Arthur’s eyebrow arched, clearly taken aback by her enthusiasm. He turned to you, looking somewhere between amused and exasperated. You stifled a grin, giving him a shrug. “Looks like she’s got some outlaw spirit after all, better than whatever life you were living, am I right?” you said, reaching out to pat Karen on the back who nodded wiping her tears.

Arthur rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, “This camp’s turning into a damn circus," earning him a smack from you on the arm.

You couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as you watched Arthur stand by, his silhouette dark against the fading light of the camp. You’d done something good today, something right. You helped someone, and he had backed you, without hesitation.

As you made your way back to the campfire, the weight of the day's events still hung heavy on you. You could still hear the echoes of the man’s voice, the rage in his eyes. But it didn’t matter now. The woman was safe, and you’d made a difference. More than that, Arthur had made sure of it.

You glanced back over at him, standing tall, looking unfazed by the confrontation. He had that look, stone-faced, like nothing ever rattled him. Yet you knew the truth. Arthur did what needed to be done, for you, for anyone who mattered to him. He’d always had a way of making sure things were taken care of, no matter the cost.

"You did good today," you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of the unspoken things that lingered between you.

Arthur gave a half-grunt, not really one for praise. His lips curled up in the slightest of smiles, but there was no boastful pride in it. That wasn’t Arthur’s way. "Just doin’ what’s right."

You huffed a soft laugh. "I know. You always do more than what's right. You do what needs to be done." He always does tenfold what you ask of him.

He didn’t argue, didn’t try to deny it. Instead, his gaze flickered to you for a brief moment before he looked away. "You’re the one who had the guts to step in. I just made sure it ended the way it should."

You shook your head, though a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "Don’t try to downplay it. You know damn well that if it had been anyone else, they would have just ignored it."

He snorted, his eyes scanning the horizon, ever vigilant, as if nothing could touch him. But you knew better. You knew the weight Arthur carried. You’d seen it, felt it. He wasn’t the same as the others. He was a brother, a friend, a bodyguard, and a killer all in one. Your own personal killer that too free of charge. You chuckled inwardly at the thought. This is something you never imagined even thinking of him in childhood. What a turn life has taken for both of you.

As you sat beside him, watching the fire crackle, the camp settled into a quiet rhythm. You felt proud, not just of yourself, but of Arthur too. He may not have cared for the praise, but you knew the truth, Arthur was the kind of man who would go to hell and back for the people he cared about. Especially you. And for you, that meant everything.

[male-readerwriter]

Johnny Storm x Male Reader

Title: BURNING LOVE!!

WARNING'S: Language, FLUFF, brief sexual thoughts, headcanons for Johnny Storm falling in love with male reader in the void, Romance

M/N= Male Reader Name/ Male Name.

First and third person POV

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

You were sent to the void after being caught stealing a rare diamond from a museum worth 35 million dollars, it wasn't the first time you've gotten in trouble for stealing- this was more like the 100th or 200th.

You were an international thief, you alone were able to pull off some of the most infamous and greatest robbery's ever. You were constantly in and out of prison but after this well- turns out they were sick of you breaking into places and stealing things so they ended up sending you to the void leaving you to rot with everything else they deemed trash.

You had heard of this place while in prison so you kinda knew it was only sooner or later until you were sent here but you never expected it to be this bad , things were constantly after you as if it wasn't bad enough that there was basically no food in this shit hole you had to deal with monsters, people, and animals chasing you trying to either kill or kidnap you to take you to some women named Cassandra Nova - who the fuck was that?

After a rough day of being chased by people and monsters alike you were getting exhausted and STARVING and you were suddenly getting very dizzy and you could have sworn you saw a man covered in flames flying through the sky fighting off the things chasing you, next thing you know you passed out.

You woke up to the smell of food and when you looked around and it was suddenly night time and you were in a place you didn't recognize, it looked like some type of hideout but nobody was their at least you thought. After rushing over to the food scarfing it down almost immediately a man's voice from behind you laughed saying "look's like someone's hungry".

Who the hell could that be? And what did he want, did he want to hurt me? Dropping the food out of my hand I turned around to see a muscular man in a blue shirt with a 4 on it, my heart skipped a beat. I was still terrified thinking of what he could do to me but damn was he sexy. He took a few steps towards me with his hand outstretched and a warm smile on his face- he seems friendly.

"Hey, I'm johnny. Nice to meet you" I allow him to take my hand, shaking it in a greeting manner "I'm M/N, sorry I was hungry" I respond. Something about this guy intimidated him in a good way.

"No, help yourself we got plenty" he giggles as he lets go of my hand, the smile this guy has is so warming it's lighting up my heart. My heart is beating out of my chest "how did I get here?" I ask taking a bite out of a big turkey leg.

He tells me how he found me and fought off the things after me then took me to his hideout, he says he stays here with a few friends he met who I soon meet named Elektra, Blade, X-23, and Gambit who was my personal favorite other than Johnny. After introducing themselves they all went off doing their own thing not wanting to overwhelm me, I continue eating more food still starving but Johnny stays by my side the entire time still chatting away. There's something about this guy that I immediately wanna cling to and he's not bad looking he can definitely manhandle me any time he pleases the- sorry got off track there, he's just that good looking.

We end up talking for 3 hours straight and I realize my dumb ass has already fallen in love with this man (even though I just met him) there was something about him and he was hot literally. I found out he was able to set his entire body in flames and he could fly all he had to do was say two little words "flame on".

He ended up showing me at a later time, he and his friends explained pretty much everything I need to know about the void then they told me I could stay with them but there was one little problem...

I had to share a bed with Mr. Johnny Storm.

I had no problem with that in any way shape or form neither did Johnny it seemed, though he had kept blushing the first couple of nights I shared a bed with him, after that he started acting a little awkward he'd start smiling everytime I came around, and he started playfully flirting I assumed. After a little while I started flirting back and every time I did he'd start blushing like crazy, which was really confusing considering the way he usually acted before he started flirting with me.

His behavior screamed fuckboy yet he wasn't a bad guy, he never acted like a pig he - seemed like a typical straight guy fuck boy. But he was the most perfect guy you'd ever met and it only made you fall for him more and more.

You assumed he was straight at least but one day when you were walking back into the hideout you heard everyone talking about you so you decided to stay hidden and listen. Somehow they figured out you had feelings for Johnny and before you could even be shocked by that Elektra commented how she knew Johnny had feelings for you as well.

You were flabbergasted, he felt the same way you did and yet he never knew the things you did, everytime he asked how you got sent to the void you changed the subject.

That's when you decided to tell him the truth, you were expecting judgment but surprisingly he was completely fine with it and he didn't care what you did saying you were still a good person at heart. After telling him that you found that it was much easier to open up to him and in no time you both confessed you have feelings for one another.

You were outside going for a walk with him playfully flirting with each other as usually when suddenly Johnny became quite. "Hey, what's on your mind?" You asked and before he could come up with some lame excuse he found himself saying "I have something important to tell you". That's when he told you he had feelings for you, he didn't just have feelings for you, he loved you.

"I'm in love with you M/N, I've been in love with you since the moment I first saw you're fine ass" he said giving your ass a nice smack, and that was the fuckboy part of him coming out but you still couldn't have been happier.

He asked you to be his boyfriend and you said yes, jumping at the opportunity to be in a relationship with Johnny. You were never this kind of guy to rush into some relationship all willy nilly but Johnny was different from any guy you'd ever met before, it was hard to explain -

He was just special, he was Johnny.

The others pretty much ended up finding out we were in a relationship immediately, even though we discussed not telling them at first but it was apparently way to hard for Johnny to keep his hands off me and keep his dirty jokes to himself. So everyone found out awkwardly standing around because Johnny was bad at keep secrets.

It happened I the morning-

He was the last to wake up and the first thing he did was wrap his arms around my waist and shove his head in the crook of my neck mumbling "Mornin babe" just loud enough for everyone to hear it and look over at us shocked we actually got together.

But after about a minute they got over the shock and congratulated us saying things like "about time" or Gambit trying to be sexual and make dirty jokes about the relationship but Johnny is always able to match his freak and make the same type of jokes back. Their banter is always fun to watch.

We all stuck together when we went out incase we had a run in with Cassandra Nova and her gang (I learned she was someone not to be messed with- she's professor X's brother and she's incredibly powerful so I'm the void that basically made her the HBIC and everyone feared her) Johnny liked to act like he wasn't scared of her and he had no problem voicing his hatred for her but I know him- if he had a one on one run in with her he'd most likely end up pissing himself.

There was never much to do in the void but he still tried to do special things for you, like date nights or a walking hand in hand at night when not many people were around to bother you both.

He seems like some typical fuck boy but you knew he was so much more, he was romantic and loved the attention you gave him literally any type of attention you gave him put a big smile on his face and a pink tint to his cheeks, he's such a dork.

He loves cuddles and so do you, it's both of your favorite thing to do to pass the time, well that and sex! you both are pretty wild in the bedroom, and luckily Johnny has a lot of stamina.

Whenever your together it's like time just stops and the only thing either of you care about is each other (you're so wrapped up in each other's little bubble, it's like you were made for each other) he never judged you for who you were even tho you were pretty much polar opposites and he's a hero and you used to be a villain -kinda- but that all changed after going to the void.

In this place you never know how much time you have like you can literally all die at any second, but it doesn't matter as long as you have him by your side you'd happily live in the moment and don't even think about what tomorrow could possibly bring.

He is my world, my human torch....

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Oop.

Literally had no idea how to end this so that's why the ending is so abrupt sorry- also sorry for any spelling errors I didn't proof read.

Hope it was at least a little enjoyable, I'll be better in the future I haven't written in a bit sorry- 🤣 FEM READERS, AND MINORS DNI! go away-