#still in disbelief that this is what I’m losing my mind to rn

[exterminated-acc]

Radiostatic doodles from earlier this month 😐👍 Can you tell I wasn’t paying attention to their designs at all.

[knavesflames]

halloooooo !! I’m not sure if requests are open but if they’re not it’s okay if you don’t write this. I wanted to ask if you could write an Arlecchino x reader (fluff, can be fic or headcanons or anythint) where reader is insecure about her face ? Like they don’t think they’re pretty enough bc of their friends and stuff. Thank you !! Take your time and have a nice day <3

I needed something like this rn so I’m almost glad it took so long for me to get to (though I am sorry, i have been so busy) a lil hard to be positive right now but i tried my best!!

Word count: 707

Contents: fluff, insecure reader

UTC!

Your friends are beautiful, handsome. They truly are. Your girlfriend, Arlecchino, is stunning too. It seems everyone around you has the perfect face, looks utterly amazing. You find yourself admiring them whenever you’re around them. Yet, you, yourself, are not any of those things. Not in your own mind. You can’t even look at yourself in the mirror, at least, not recently. You find your eyes burning with hot tears the second you catch a glimpse, and you find yourself growing bitter at the sight of anyone who doesn’t look like you. At least before it got so bad you could joke about how you wanted to be them, and now jealousy has given way to hatred, even if they’ve done nothing wrong.

It isn’t like Arlecchino hasn’t noticed, either. The way your makeup mirror has been flipped around so you don’t have to see yourself, or the way you purposely avoid looking towards any reflective surface, even during intimate activities. And if we’re honest, Arlecchino loves to make you look at yourself while you’re coming undone because of her, except her recent advances have been met with a firm ‘no’.

She can’t figure out why you suddenly began acting like this. Any mention of either your frame or your face turns you angry and silent, with your fists clenching. You aren’t angry really though, you’re just sad. Sad you won’t ever look like the people you wish you could look like. Devastated at the thought that Arlecchino will one day see sense and leave you for one of them. The thought of that hurts you so much you begin distancing yourself from her, too. Arlecchino, at first, is confused. She, for the life of her, cannot understand any of this. Yet, the day comes where you can’t even bring yourself to look at her while she speaks to you, and she can’t seem to keep herself quiet anymore.

“Look at me,” she snaps. She tries not to lose her temper with you, not when she knows there’s a clear reason why you’re acting the way you’re acting, but you’re not saying anything, you won’t even look at her.

You feel your own jaw setting, all of your negative feelings bubbling up for no reason. Unfortunately this time, she seems to be the target. “Or what, you’ll leave me for someone prettier?”

Arlecchino doesn’t flinch, but her expression, the one that’s usually so graceful and emotionless, crumples into a frown of pure disbelief and confusion. Her voice this time comes out as a quiet hiss. “What? You doubt my affection for you after all this time? Is that what this is about?”

When you go to argue back, and your voice breaks into a cry, she softens as much as someone like Arlecchino can soften. “I see,” she murmurs, sitting down next to you. Her hand softly lands on your knee, squeezing it gently. “This again, is it? I have told you countless times—“

“It doesn’t help. I still feel this way.” Your attempt at a venomous response does nothing but highlight how you’re feeling, the exact opposite effect you wanted. Still, you sniffle, your hands curled in on themselves as you talk. “No words will help that I want to rip off my own skin because it feels like I am the ugliest creature to ever walk the earth, or that I feel like I have been created for the universe to be amused at my torment.”

“Yet to me, you are a creature full of beauty and grace. You are wonderful, your face is, too. Do you not think I would have left if I wanted to?” Your response to her words is silence. Unfortunately for your brain, she has a point. She could leave in a heartbeat, you couldn’t stop her if you pleaded. She stays, though. Doesn’t that say enough?

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you are a descendant of a goddess. So, how dare you speak about yourself in that way? I did not fall for your friends, or some girl on the street. I demand nothing but the best for myself, and that is exactly what I have. Next time you feel this way, you come to me.”

[lavishedinjimin]

for kinky hours: single dad jk that hasn’t had any in so long, so he just goes so hard that he feels like he has to apologize after

warnings: as always, all characters are intended to be consenting adults. office worker!jk x babysitter!OC, single dad jk, age gap

writing this while sleepy, so SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES IM TRYING TO KEEP MY EYES OPEN RN

~

Jungkook comes back home with his shoulders slumped, drained from work. He was expecting you and his son playing in the living room, but the two of you were nowhere to be found.

He releases a deep sigh, throwing his keys on the dining table as he loosens up his tie. A sudden pitter-patter sound comes from the other side of the room, he turns around and sees you walking down the stairs.

"Mr. Jeon!" you exclaim in a half-whisper, "I already put him to bed. He's already sleepy after playing a little game of hide and seek."

Your joyful, cheery tone made him smile. You were perfect for your job, and you're definitely a character that your son badly needed to have.

"You know I can't thank you enough, Y/n."

His tired voice made his tone a bit raspier than usual, and it startled you.

"It's no problem, sir. Do you want anything to drink?" you immediately ask after he plops down on the couch, "You seem extremely tired. I'll get you a glass of water."

Jungkook can't even bring himself to say no to you. He looks to where you are in the kitchen, your hair tousled from working hard all day. "Thank you," Jungkook mutters, accepting the drink from your hands.

"Is there..." your eyes wander to his neck, seeing how his adam's apple bob up and down. "Is there anything else that I can do?"

"No need, Y/n." Jungkook puts the glass down on the coffee table.

You stand a couple of feet away in front of him. Jungkook fondles with his belt buckle, and your eyes unknowingly follow his actions. "Actually, come and sit beside me."

You were taken aback, mouth gaping open as you hesitate to comply. Why was he looking at you like that? Jungkook raises his brows, waiting for you to obey. "You heard me."

"Right," you breathe, sitting down on the couch with him.

"I'm so fucking tired from work, Y/n. And all of my damn co-workers decided to act like total children today."

You quietly listen to him rant about what happened at work, to which you obediently oblige to. He probably needed someone to listen to him, and you understood that.

"One of my partners didn't even try covering up a hickey on his neck," he throws his head back, "so professional of him. Made me want to punch the wall," Jungkook chuckles, his mind racing with thoughts until he whispers the next sentence: "At least he's getting railed, huh?"

He turns to look at you, and he smirks from seeing your cheeks blush from his words. He looks at you up and down, seeing that you were bouncing your knee. Jungkook swiftly rests his hand on it, rubbing his thumb on your skin.

The simple action encouraged butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn't lose eye contact, inching his hand higher up your thigh.

"You're not pushing me away, Y/n," his forehead creases, "Tell me to stop."

"What?" you meekly ask, "What are you doing?"

"You have no clue?" Jungkook says in slight disbelief. He abruptly, without foreseeing it, straddles you and grips your wrists in one hand. His eyes turn into little slits while he looks at you as prey. "I have one thing on my mind right now, and that is to fuck your tight pussy, make my dick feel good until I shoot my cum deep inside you. So tell me," he grasps your jaw, tilting your head up. "may I fuck you?"

He adores the way you instantly turn into a shy puddle. Everything escalated so quickly that you didn't even care about the consequences of your answer.

"Yes."

Jungkook growls, immediately attaching his lips onto your neck, making you gasp. "You better be fucking sure about that answer, darling. It's been so long since I fucked someone, and you bet that I'm not gonna go easy on that cunt."

Someone get this man a fucking pocket pussy.

Jungkook knows how to please a woman. While time passes by, he already had you deep into a cloudy state of submission, allowing him to use and play with your body the way he wants to. Jungkook pounds you from behind as you lay on your stomach, his strong arms on either side of your head.

His hips thrust into you so skillfully, already knowing what your body likes as if he had fucked you a hundred times. Jungkook finishes all the stamina and energy you had in your body as with each moan you let out, Jungkook fucks you harder.

He fucks you so hard that his balls clap against your skin. He lowers his head to whisper in your ear, "You're so tight and so fucking wet, baby girl. I fucking bet you fantasized about what it's like fucking an older man's cock, huh?"

From his dirty talk alone, he earns a desperate whimper from you. "So cute," he muses.

After he makes you cum, he spurts his seed inside you, coating your walls. Jungkook immediately flips you around and notices how exhausted you looked. "Oh fuck—" he holds your face in two hands, biting his lip to hide the giggle he tries to suppress, "I'm sorry, Y/n, oh god, are you okay?"

Your bodies were sweating and the air was hotter than before. You look up at Jungkook with blown-out eyes, still trying to catch your breath.

"I'm sorry, fuck, w-were you hurt at any point? I apologize, it's just I haven't fucked someone in a long time—"

"No, it's fine, sir," you gulp, "I-I think I should go and check if your son is still sleeping."

[tokoyamisstuff]

This Is New For Me

Loki x Reader

Summary: Life on Asgard can be straining - especially if the God of Mischief has taken a liking to you.

Warnings: Loki being so terrible at flirting it physically hurts, bullying, this got way angstier than I initially intended

Words: ~2800

A/N: I’ve written this trying to distract myself from personal problems, but honestly I can’t think straight rn. Dunno I kinda hate how this turned out but here you go I guess...sorry.

Loki Odinson must really despise you.

No matter how often Thor would stand up for his brother and try to justify his behavior, there was no other explanation for you other than that he must truly hate you with every essence of his being.

In the beginning, having been invited in the palace to train magic under the Allmother sounded like a once-in-a-lifetime chance - yet all that’s left from your initial excitement had been replaced by pure annoyance.

Lately, whenever you knew that you had to attend class with that certain raven-haired prince, your insides would churn before you even arrived.

Weeks have turned into months, never once ceasing his condescending remarks or childish pranks. Of course, he wasn’t called the God of Mischief for nothing.

All nine realms had tales to tell about his sheganinans - yet with you, he seemed especially invested. There was not one encounter where he could leave you at peace, always ending with you being victim to his wicked humor. 

The man did not seem to respect you at all - and it made you furious.

Today, you’d show him just what you were capable of!

“Greetings, great Allmother.” Polite as always, you bowed deeply in front of your queen, her magnificent presence still making you jittery beyond belief.

“No need for formalities, my lovely student” she responded heartily, only making you admire her even more - until a loud, exaggerated sigh cut through the calm atmosphere.

“Her again?” There he stood, maintaining his defensive pose as he rolled his eyes at you. “Mother, why would you keep on bringing a lowlife like her to defile this holy place?”

This was probably the millionth time that Frigga apologized deeply for her son’s behavior, and you were always amazed by her patience with him. How could a person so formidable end up raising such a troublemaker?

But then again...if she believes that there is good in the God of Mischief, then so would you.

“For today, I have prepared a spell that can only be cast by two mages at once”, Frigga explained, while Loki would still not bid you a single look. “So throughout this lesson, you will need to work together to succeed.”

Irritation was clearly visible on his face - and if you were perfectly honest, you weren’t really fond of that idea either. Yet if it was your scolar’s wish, none of you would protest.

“Spontaneous creation of complex concepts puts a huge stroll on one’s mind and body, so do not be frustrated if it doesn’t work within the first try.”

The idea was simple: Create a blooming meadow in midst of the palace floor, since creating life would be way too complex - only masters of the sorcery arts could take this spell to completion.

You and Loki were now sitting on the bare floor in front of each other and only now you realized how tense he had become, sweat dripping from his forehead and biting his bottom lip.

Was your presence really so terrible that he couldn’t bear with it?!

“Hey” you whispered, taking his hands to form a ring just as instructed “Don’t worry, we’re gonna get this!”

“I don’t need your encouragement...” he spat between gritted teeth, now that you noticed his palms were just as sweaty as his face seemed to be.

One second. Two, tree...fourty....a hundret and two...

“Relax” Loki repeated to himself as if it was his mantra - but now, with your fingers entangled in his? Sheer impossible.

Distraught, he shot his mother a desperate look, just for her to point  towards you, sitting cross-legged and seemingly completely relaxed.

Since your eyes were closed, Loki took this chance to observe every detail of your face, without having to fear that you’d notice his little infatuation.

By the norns - you were as fair and bewitching as always. So way, way out of his league. An unreachable, vigorous being. No angel, valkyrie or similar could ever reach up to you - at least in his eyes.

Was this what they called love at first sight? Loki only knew those sentiments from novels he always ridiculed before he got to know you.

Slowly and steadily, Loki aligned his breathing pattern with yours, picturing the cycle of energy the two of you formed. Carefully, he began infusing you with his magic, trying his best to allow yourself do the same to him.

Another minute passed by and you were finally able to let your magic flow through each other’s bodies entirely, like a serene stream.

With things being like this, he felt so different from the Loki you knew.

His magic was strong, indeed - but so gentle, warm and somehow comfortable to be coated with. You wondered-

“HEY!”

As soon as Loki slapped your hand away, breaking the cycle, all of the flowers that had previously bloossomed through you would wither in an instant.

“What the hel do you think you’re doing, you mewling quim?!” Loki shoutet as loud as his lungs allowed him to, while his mother’s face distorted in second-hand-embarrasment at her son’s choice of words. “Who do you think you are?!”

“I-I’m sorry, I just-” You only wanted to scan his emotions through the magic bond you shared, just peek under the cover for a mere second - what was he so afraid of you to find?

“Know your place, woman!” The god pointed at you before he rushed up, ignoring the ache in his heart as he saw your face contort in sadness. “You are beneath me, never forget that!”

Why were you even surprised?

“You’re right” you sniveled quietly as you balled a fist in your dress, and Loki hated himself so much that he wished to just disappear. “My apologies. You don’t have to put up with me ever again.”

As always, instead of fighting, you made your leave without ever fighting back.

Frigga’s pleads for you to stay and talk this over were all for naught when you rushed away, muttering curses directed towards youself rather than anyone else.

Instead of scolding her son, she’d punish him through her silence, furiously shaking her head as she rushed away as well.

Why did he always have to ruin everything?!

The God of Mischief was very well aware that whenever you were close, his mind went completely blank - and that made him panic.

Never before he had felt so goddamn vulnerable in front of anything, terrifying him beyond belief.

And Loki loathed that feeling: Losing control over himself, being reminded once again how alone and  unloveable he is, facing a goddess as stunning as you are every single day.

So he concluded it to be best to cope like he did all those millenia: Cover up those insecurities, shove his anxieties in the back of his heart and protect his heart from anyone coming close.

Good thing you believed that presumptupus, disoblinging duplicity of his to be his true self.

That would make it easier for the both of you, having as much distance as humanly possible. Vicinity could become dangerous terrain.

Yes, he would only save you some time - it would be a waste if you would try to actually give him a chance, just to be let down by what kind of disappointment he truly was.

But it wouldn’t end here - since the only way Loki Odinson first and only communication was through causing mischief.

A scream of yours startled the servants early in the morning, with your personal maiden being the first to rush to your side.

“Milady, wha-” She stopped in her tracks as she saw you standing in front of the mirror, touching your scalp in disbelief, where everything had been cut short.

That was it. Enough of it!

Dismissing the servants, you took a scissor and tried to at least make an acceptable hairstyle out of the mess he had made, before you would leave to the royal garden.

“You!” Pointing towards Loki, innocently sitting on a bench to watch the sunrise, you screamed and let a strand of hair run from your fingers to the floor. “You did this!”

“Now relax, would you” he chuckled, wearing his smug grin like a trophy as he defendingly held his hands into the air. “You should be grateful, it looks much better like this.”

Next thing he knew was the feeling of your backhand, mercilessly crushing against his collarbone.

Usually, you’d be shocked at yourself, for you had never been a person to choose violence ever before - but right now, you were too full of anger and hurt to even realize.

“You conniving craven pathetic worm!” you exclaimed, breathing heavily as you swung yet another fist towards the prince - however, he grabbed your wrists, trapping you in his hold.

In his life full of wrongdoings, he had been called worse than that - yet still, hearing insults coming from you of all people shot arrows through his heart with every word escaping his lips. Not that he’d ever admit, though.

“It was just a little prank.” Loki would’ve never thought that his actions would affect you this much. “What are you so worked up about?”

“All this time I believed there could be a good person beneath all that...but now what?” The compassion you detected in his eyes were only upsetting you even more. “You are a selfish, cruel and terrible person, and I gave up on you.”

Loki let go off of you, staring at you in disbelief:

You actually believed in him, all this time?! That was impossible!

If anything, the Odinson had always believed you to ignore his existence completely, if he wouldn’t use such drastic measures to attract your attention.

“Wait a second, I-”

“I hope you know that you deserve to be alone...” you sniveled, turning around to face him one last time before you fled the scene. “And you always will be.”

Several minutes had passed until Loki had given up in silencing he voices inside his head that told him you were right: He was indeed a despicable being, tainting your pure goodwill - repelling anyone that would still be willing to give the God of Mischief a chance.

Out of a whim, he jumped up from his place, wanting to rush after you. He was very well aware that he was probably beyond forgiveness by now, yet he at least wanted to make things up to you - even though he had no clue where to start.

“Calm down, Lady Y/N.”

Thor’s voice drang to Loki’s ears just a mere second before he saw that particular heart-wrenching scene unfold in front of him:

You were lying in his brother’s arms, crying to your heart’s extend while soothed you, softly petting what remained from your hair.  Loki remained hidden in the shadows, even though his guts told him to stab his brother right here and now.

“My brother...you know-” The God of Thunder was trying to find the right words, even though poetic speeches were not really his forte. “It’s just his speecial, twisted way of interacting. Who knows where he got that from.”

“I rather wonder if he realized how his behavior truly makes me feel” you snapped back, unwilling to keep defending him. “Weak and worthless, that’s how I feell. And every time our ways cross, he’s making it worse!”

By the gods, Loki never wanted to make you feel that way, let alone think such ways about yourself! He of all people, who knew best what its like to feel unfit and nowhere near enough.

Loki grabbed the fabric of his shirt tight, feeling that his heart might burst if he didn’t. It took everything in him to not let out a loud sob and be caught - but then, his brother snapped him out of it with an impossible question:

“Do you still love him?”

“L-Love might not be the right word, I mean-” Lately, you had let Thor in on your secret admiration for his younger brother. “With the way he’s treating me, and all-”

You just couldn’t help being drawn to him against all reason. After everything you had endured, just to be close to him - and he never even acknowledged your feelings.

And still, here you were, crying over a man that didn’t want you.

“Lady Y/N?”

Loki’s voice made you panic, immediately wriggling out of Thor’s embrace. The Odinson understood immediately, nodding towards his brother before leaving the two of you alone.

“Since when have you been standing there?!” Panic dropped to your stomach, wondering just how much he had heared.

“From the very beginning.”

Before you could even think about what to do now, Loki summoned a dagger, cutting off his raven locks in one swift move. “Wha-”

“Please, accept this as means of apology.” The man now dropped to one knee, humbly facing the ground. “I have never intended to make you doubt your most perfect self.”

Frantic, you were scanning his voice, face, anything for the slightest hint of a lie - but nothing. Loki seemed determined and sincere when he looked up to you, hesistantly taking a hold of your hand.

“This is new for me...” he uttered under his breath as his lips graced your knuckles, and only now you realized that he was trembling ever so slightly. 

“I-Is that another trick?!”

“What kind of vicious being do you think I am?” Well, after everything he had commited it was only natural of you accusing him. “There are lines not even I do not cross.”

Only for a brief second your heart felt a little bit lighter, as his eyes were locked with yours, lost in this moment you have been waited for so long...

...a little too unexpected, right?

Suddenly, you tugged your hand away, and Loki could only sigh in frustration. Of course it won’t be that easy for him to gain your trust. “I don’t need your pity, Loki...”

No matter how he racked his brain around the matter, he had burdened your shared past probably beyond the point of repair.

That would be his last chance, maybe the last time he’d ever see you again. He was so desperate in his attempt, and yet - what else could he do?

So for the first time in millenias, the God of Mischief decided to speak from the heart for a change:

"Y/N, I-I...As I said, this is new for me, so...” he cleared his throat before continuing, stress literally dropping out of every pore. “From the first day we’ve met, you...I mean...you were the most magnificent being I ever laid eyes upon, and...when I think about it now, I-I may be enarmored with you.”

Your eyes widened at this wholeheartedly confession, a sincere smile playing on his lips in contrast of sole tears running down his face.

Never before you had seen him like that: Flustered, vulnerable, and honest...

“I thought to be unworthy of your affection, so I tried to belittle you, to...I don’t even know. I’ve been told many times I am quite assertive of anyone but myself. I-I mean, I am a mess...I don’t understand my own feelings and thus drive away any chance of happiness, and...how could you ever-?”

“Mhh...” you silenced the man as your lips crushed over his, falling straight into his arms. It took Loki quite a second to fully grasp the situation before deepening the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if you’d disappear if he was to ever let go.

“Y/N...” the prince gasped when your lips parted from that breathtaking kiss - and this time it was you who wore that thug grin on your face.

"Apology accepted” you giggled, just to smother the face of this flabbergasted man in yet another thousand smaller kisses.

This had to be a dream, he thought...and immediately, a wave of guilt washed over him. He did not deserve this in the slightest.

“Now, don’t give me that look.” Cupping Loki’s face in your hands, you gifted him that heartwarming expression he had ignored for so many years, thinking it was not meant for him. “That kiss wiped my memory from everything you’ve done...by now.”

Out of sheer, genuine happiness, Loki leaped from the floor and excitedly swirled you around in his arms.

After another kiss that would kick the air right out of your lungs. the god would peck a more gentle one afterwards, as sweet and tender as no one ever thought he could be.

Even if it’s gonna be a long way, Loki would prove to be worthy of your love.

“Lady Y/N...if you are to believe in me, then I swear I will be on my best behavior from now on!”

"Let's see about that."

[anxioussweasley]

Request lol if you have time bc i love ur writing with my whole heart. Basically i need me some angst with George with a happy-ish ending in my life rn. Maybe angst prompts 1 and 2? if you don’t have time that’s totally cool there’s just not enough happy ending angst with george lol

1.when we’re you going to tell me

2. I’m not going to argue with you

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word count: 1.2k

A/n: hi love! So sorry this took me so long to write! I hope you still see this, and you like it! Thank you for the request.

Arguments

You weren’t even sure how the argument started. It was all playful in the beginning. But now as you and George, your best friend, shouted back and forth in the middle of the common room, you realized this was anything but playful.

“Well maybe if you and your brother weren’t always running around causing trouble, we wouldn’t have been stuck in detention.”

“Well maybe if you would stop pissing people off me and my brother wouldn’t have to go around causing ‘trouble’ pranking people for you!”

“I never asked you to do that! I can take care of myself! And you know what I don’t remember ever pissing digory off so I guess you pranked him for no good reason!” You shouted back.

“Oi, I had a reason!”

“Oh, really? What was it then? You know he hasn’t talked to me since that little stunt you pulled!” You seethed.

George stopped. He couldn’t possibly tell you why he had pranked Cedric. He couldn’t possibly tell you that he was burning with jealousy at the mere sight of you next to golden boy digory. How was he supposed to look one of his best friends in the eye and tell them that he loved them? George scoffed, “It doesn’t even matter. I’m not going to argue with you.” With that he quickly turned making his way up the stairs to his dorm.

The few people in the common room that had been watching the argument started at you, before Fred cut in, “Oi, you all mind your own business! That was awkward enough without all you gits listening in!” With that everyone went about their business, some people making their way out of the room, Ron and Harry continuing they’re game of Wizards chess, Hermione turning back towards her book.

“I- I don’t even know what just happened,” you mumbled.

Fred gave you a concerned look before nudging your shoulder assuring, “hey you know how he is. can be a little hot headed sometimes, that one. That’s why he’s so good at quidditch,” Fred chuckled. “Don’t worry I’m sure he’s not angry with you, just give him some time, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.” You answered, still staring at the door George had just disappeared through.

“Why don’t you come by later, I’ll talk to him and we’ll get this whole thing sorted,” Fred suggested, putting his hand on your shoulder to reassure you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “yeah, that’s a good idea. I’ll um- I’ll see you later.” You didn’t know how to function. The whole argument had you confused, and the embarrassment of fighting in such a public setting was starting to sink in. So without another word you turned and made your way to your dorm, slamming the door behind you before letting out a frustrated sigh.

A couple hours passed and you were feeling restless. You had tried to distract yourself with homework, reading, a nap, but nothing had worked in keeping your mind of George. Then again… nothing ever did.

You sometimes find it impossible to stop thinking of the ginger. Everything about him made your heart race. He was softer than Fred. He was an amazing quidditch player. His jokes and sarcastic comments always made you laugh for minutes on end. It had taken you a while to realize you were in love with him. But now you were in a fight, a petty argument that made your stomach twist with nerves. You knew it was irrational but you couldn’t stop worrying about if you would lose him over this. It was pointless anxiety but nevertheless a sick feeling made its way into your stomach.

You wanted to end this, to go back a few hours when you and George were laughing together happy as can be. So you got up out of bed and made your way to the boys dorm. Surely Fred was right, and George just needed a bit of time to calm down. But as you approached the door the sound of Fred and George’s shouting voices made it clear that this wasn’t going to end quickly. You tried not to listen, tried to walk away but Fred’s voice caught your attention.

“Why didn’t you just tell Y/n the truth? This is getting ridiculous, George!”

“What do you want me to say Fred? Yeah, Y/n I had a good reason to prank digory! It’s because I saw that prat put his arm around you and I was burning with jealousy because I’m in love with you?” Your breath caught in your throat as your heart raced faster than it ever had before. Surly you had heard that wrong.

“Yes! Anything would have been better than storming out!” Fred answered.

“I can’t do this right now, Fred.” Came George next words and suddenly the door was being pulled open, and there wasn’t time for you to react. George and you stood there for a minute wide eyed.

“George-“

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief before quickly sliding past you and making his way down the hall.

“George!” You shouted after him, finally breaking away from your initial shock.

“Shit, Y/n,” Fred swore, making his way out the door and down the hall.

“Fred, wait! I’ll take care of it,” you rushed quickly moving past him and running down the hall after George.

“George! George, wait! Please?” You shouted after the boy. Hurrying to catch up with him.

“Leave me alone Y/n,” was all he replied with, making his way through the common room and out the portrait hole.

“Can we please talk?” You questioned as you had to jog to keep up with the ginger's fast pace, as he led you into an empty corridor.

“Y/n, please, just go away,” he sounded desperate, continuing to walk away from you.

“No, George! When were you going to tell me?” You pleaded. George stopped dead in his tracks.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “never.” He sounded so uncertain, you had never seen him like this so… defeated.

“Is- is that really why you pranked Cedric? You were jealous?” You questioned.

George scoffed, turning quickly around to face you. “Yes Y/n! I was jealous! I was jealous because I’ve been in love with you for years, but you are never going to feel the same way about me! Because I’m just George, I’m not like golden boy digory or Fred, I’m not the outspoken one or the popular one I’m just everyone’s second choice!” George let out a sigh, a single tear falling down his face, before whispering, “even yours.” Tears started falling down your face, your heart shattering with George’s words. How could he be so blind?

“No, George. Don’t you get it? I love you! Me and Cedric are just friends. I don’t care about that kind of stuff. I don’t want Cedric or Fred, I want you.”

George stands wide eyed, not fully allowing himself to believe it.

“You-“

“I’m in love with you,” you finished the thought for him, tanking a step closer and grabbing his hand.

“Y/n, I am so sorry for everything I said today. I was such a git.” George apologized, squeezing your hand and pulling you closer to him.

“It’s okay Georgie, I’m sorry too.”

[mandoalorian]

If you’re taking requests RN can you hit me with them fighting about something big and they think reader is gonna break up with them but then the reader is like uhm no it was a fight but I still love you and then they get all soft afterwards with Maxwell, Frankie or Javi? You choose I love them all equally (BTw if not that’s okay obvi)

follow up: “ (I meant Javier Peña from my last ask 🥰) “ 

Thank you so much for this request!! I’ve had a pretty lousy day but writing this for you was really the highlight so I hope you enjoy! I was going to write for Maxwell because he’s my number one favourite, but I thought I’d challenge myself with Javier since I haven’t wrote for him yet.

Lie To Me [Javier Peña x Reader]

READ PART TWO HERE

READ PART THREE HERE

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: mention of drug trafficking and general Narcos topics, blood/a little gore but not too much, angst anGST ANGSTTTT!!!

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

"I just can't believe you'd be so reckless!" you exclaimed, dampening the wash cloth and carefully dabbing it into your boyfriend's arm. Javier stayed silent, although it was hard not to hiss and curse in pain as you washed away the blood seeping from the deep cut in his bicep. "It's not like you at all Javi. I don't understand."

Your boyfriend had a history of being impulsive, yes, but ever since you became 'official' and started living together, he had changed. It was like this new experience had grounded him. Javier wasn't offering you any information about the incident which, truthfully, infuriated you. The cut was deep but everytime you brought up the hospital, he'd grumpily tell you he was fine. That he's had worse. After just a simple look over his wound, you knew he needed stitches. This was serious, and you knew he never really liked to discuss his work with you, but this was different. His whole demeanor had changed.

And this wasn't about work, really. Javier was closing himself off, shutting himself out from you. Once upon a time he'd make a habit out of this. He found that it was just easier to bottle away his emotions and not talk about them. But that was no good for either of you; not healthy at all. Javier knew this. He was trying to change for the better— improve himself, all for you. That's how he got in the entanglement in the first place. You didn't know this, but he was trying to protect you.

Javier was so sure his disguise worked. He wasn't a spy, he didn't often go undercover. He had very little experience; but he was so close to catching this kingpin, he just went with it. Lucky for Javier, he was blessed with the charisma of a criminal and could charm his way out of most situations if it became necessary. Unfortunately for him, the cartel was already one step ahead, playing along with his little charade.

"Javier Peña, DEA." the kingpin grunted, reaching into the pocket of Javier's leather jacket and snatching Javier’s ID. "You really thought you could fool us?" the kingpin chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. Javi's jaw ticked when he saw that his abrupt action had caused his wallet to drop on the floor. The kingpin picked it up and clicked it open. Luckily, Javier had nothing of value in there. Maybe ten dollars and a condom. At least, that's what he thought.

He watched the kingpin's face soften under the dimmed amber light as he adjusted Javier's wallet, tilting it in his hands. His eyes narrowed and a smirk wormed its way across his lips. Javi knotted his eyebrows together in bewilderment.

"Quite the pretty lady you scored here, Agent Peña," the kingpin snaked, gesturing for his lieutenants to come on over and take a look. The one on the left took a drag of his cigarette and wolf whistled when he caught an eye on the picture. "Nice tits too." The kingpin shrugged his shoulders, lighting a cigarette for himself. "Would be a shame if something were to happen to her."

His threat set fire to his heart and his job felt like it had just gotten a whole more personal. He had been working for the DEA for over a decade now; he knew how dangerous cartels and drug lords could be. He would not and could not ever let anything happen to you. He swore his life depended on it. But now he was standing before the Capo and his men, and in typical Javier Peña fashion, his first instinct was to fight.

He went to throw a punch at the kingpin, but one of the lieutenants grabbed Javier's wrist mid-air whilst the other one flicked open a pen knife, dragging the blade through Javier's bicep and ripping open the sleeve of his cream coloured shirt. 

Javier groaned at the stinging sensation and his crimson red blood began to stain through the material. The kingpin laughed again, before tutting and shaking his head. "So, you have a soft spot for her? I expected better from you Agent Peña. Last I heard, your reputation wasn't one for commitments. But myself? I'm a family man too. I love my wife. Our kids. So here's the deal. I'll let you go, but you tell the DEA your so-called undercover mission was a bust. You go home, into the arms of your woman, and speak nothing of this. This stays between you, me, and my men. Do you understand?" 

Javier was never one to follow rules— especially not ones made by cartel leaders, but he was outnumbered and he knew the Capo had an upper hand. Javier nodded, pressing his hand on the cut and applying somewhat pressure to stop him from bleeding out. "Can't go to hospital either," the kingpin told you with a roll of his eyes. "If that wasn't already obvious. No one can find out about what went on here. Agent Peña, I have thousands of falcons all over Columbia. They can find out where you and your pretty lady live. And I promise, it won't be pretty."

Javier gulped, not wanting to imagine and nodded his head. There was no need for anymore fuss. The kingpin popped Javier's wallet and ID back into his jacket pocket and pat him on the shoulder. "Agent Peña, I hope I never have to see you again." the kingpin narrowed his eyes before gesturing his lieutenants to open the door and let Javier out. Javi scoffed, but stayed silent. The situation could've gotten a lot worse. He walked outside to his truck, guided by the sicarios of course, and made his way home.

When Javier stumbled into your shared apartment, colour drained out of his skin and blood seeping through his fingers where he was holding his bicep. Your heart sank. His hair was stuck up in places from his cold sweat and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. "Baby," he grumbled. "Could you- could you help me with this?"

"Javier what happened?" you gasped, a knot forming in your throat. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes when you took in the state of him. Sure, Javier had scars, and you didn't mind— but this was the first time you had ever seen him so injured. "I- I thought it was an office day." you exclaimed, holding him gently by his shoulders and guiding him into the bathroom.

"Was," Javier gritted out. "But you know how unpredictable work can be. We got a lead. So- I was sent out. But uh-, everything is fine now. I sorted everything out and erm-, you know." Javier gasped when you ripped open his shirt and pulled it off his torso, dropping it to the tiled bathroom floor.

"Jump." you ordered him, pointing at the sink. Javier obeyed and hopped onto the corner of the counter nearby the sink. He watched as you wet a washcloth under warm running water and padded it gently over his cut. As the faucet was still on, Javier leaned over and rinsed his blood stained hands from where he had been applying pressure on the open wound. "Javi, this cut— it's so deep. I think you need stitches." you said with worry, carefully analysing the depth of his injury.

"No." Javier spat immediately, the aggression and urgency in his voice making you jump slightly. He saw your reaction and placed a hand on your cheek, cupping it and taking a good look at you. You were his angel. He had done the right thing, and he wouldn't screw up now. He couldn't lose you. "No," he repeated, this time with conscious effort to sound less stern. "I'm a big boy, okay? Please just bandage me up."

Your eyes flicked from the cut to Javier, and you hesitated for a few moments. "Okay," you agreed quietly. You knew Javier well enough to know that there was no point in arguing with him. All of this sounded highly suspicious but you knew that you had to trust him. You kneeled down to the cabinet under the sink and took out the green first aid kit. Unbuckling it, you located some bandages, tape, and a tourniquet. "Shit Javi, it's still bleeding." you sighed, pressing the now ruined wash cloth back into his cut.

He choked up at the sudden pressure you applied. "It's okay," he reassured, running his free hand through his short dark hair. "Once I'm bandaged up, I'll be fine."

"Javier, who did this to you?" you frowned, carefully removing the washcloth and unravelling the tourniquet. "Who hurt you?"

Javier stayed silent. He wanted to tell you. He didn't want to have to lie to you, or keep secrets, but he was too caught up in the moment— he didn't want to risk your safety. His paranoia settled in. What if the kingpin's sicarios had followed him home? What if they were listening in? Javier's fists clenched around the cabinet he was sitting on, knuckles turning white. Between his injury, and the thought of losing you— he knew which hurt more.

"Are you just going to ignore me?" you puffed out, folding your arms across your chest in annoyance and looking at him in the eyes. Javi looked down at his feet, not saying a word. "So that's a yes?" you questioned further. Still no response. You shook your head and finished bandaging up his injury. Javier hopped off the counter and followed you into your shared bedroom where you opened your closet.

You threw him a clean shirt and he mumbled a 'thank you' before pulling his arms into it, careful not to disrupt his now bandaged bicep. You rummaged deep into the back of your wardrobe and pulled out a duffel bag, unzipping it and throwing piles of clothes into it. T-shirts, jeans, socks and underwear. Javier watched you, bewilderment written all over his face.

"Baby, what are you doing?" he asked eventually, standing with one hand on his hip and watching you intently.

You didn't respond. If he wanted to ignore you, fine. But two could play at that game. You zipped up the duffel bag and hung it on your shoulder, grabbing your car keys from your bedside table. As you left the bedroom and walked to your front door, Javier raced after you. "Hey- where are you going?" he demanded, panic coursing through his veins.

You couldn't leave. What if the sicarios were outside— watching for you. Waiting for you. Javier grabbed your arm and for a second you felt the slightest touch of empathy when your gaze met his anxious blown eyes. You quickly washed away that feeling. If Javier wasn't willing to be honest in your relationship, you weren't willing to stick around.

"I just-" Javier took a deep breath. "Figured, um- please. Please stay with me," Javier begged, dropping his hand to your hand and intertwining your fingers. "I'm sorry. Can we just forget what happened? We can go to bed, order take-out, watch a corny movie? I need your comfort." Javier compromised.

The idea did sound appealing but you wanted to know what had happened. It drove you insane. You sighed and shook your head. "No Javier," your gaze was cold and empty. "You're a big boy, right? Comfort yourself." And with that, you left the apartment, slamming the door behind you.

Javier raced to the window and watched as your truck pulled out of the driveway. He looked up and down the street for any suspicious cars that might be stalking you or following you, but thankfully, there was nothing. Nevertheless, he cursed himself for letting you get away. That was the last thing he wanted. He kept the information from what happened with the cartel a secret from you because he didn't want to fill you with worry.

Luckily, Javier knew that there were only a handful of places you could go in Colombia. You weren't too familiar with Bogota and so he ran with the first place that came to his head. Connie and Steve's. He raced to the phone that hung on the kitchen wall and dialled their home number.

"Hey, Con? Is Steve there?" Javier asked in panic. He didn't really want to talk to Connie about this because there was a very good chance she'd take your side over his. And, rightfully so. There had been plenty of times Steve had kept work business away from Connie in fear of hurting or worrying her. But she always found out in the end.

"He's with Olivia," Connie replied. "Javier, what's going on?"

"Uh," Javier ran a hand through his hair in stress. "Listen. I think y/n is on her way over. We had a fight. She's not talking to me. Everything is a mess. But, I'm on my way too. She took the truck so I'll have to walk but- I'm coming, okay? So just, keep her there. Keep her safe."

Connie scrunched her nose up at Javier's words. "Safe?" she repeated before lowering her voice. "Javi… what did you do?" she asked sternly.

"I'll explain everything when I get there." Javier promised and slammed the phone back down on the hook. Not even bothering to grab his jacket, he raced out of his apartment and ran to Connie and Steve's.

Of course you were first to arrive. Javier can read you like an open book. He knew you'd be going to see Connie. You let yourself into their apartment and flopped down on the sofa. Connie, who had of course been expecting you, entered the living room to greet you with a cup of hot tea. You didn't even know she was already brewing a coffee for Javier and Steve in the kitchen. You took a sip of the herbal drink and smiled appreciatevly. 

"So, what brings you here this evening?" Connie asked, raising an eyebrow with inquiry.

You sighed, nursing the mug in your cold hands. "Javier." you mumbled, as if that one word was enough of an explanation. Connie nodded her head understandably when Steve stumbled in.

"I put Olivia to bed," he announced before his eye caught on you. "Oh hey y/n."

You offered Steve another smile.

"Javier's being a dick again," Connie rolled her eyes and Steve shook his head.

"No," you replied. That felt unfair. "He's just being distant. Shutting me out."

"Well that's Javi for ya," Steve shrugged, sitting on the arm of the sofa and taking a box of cigarettes out of his pocket.

"No but— we had gotten better," you explained. "I mean. We talked a lot. He'd finally started opening up."

Before you could say anymore, the front door to Steve and Connie's door burst open. Javier stood at the doorframe, heaving and panting like he had just ran a marathon. Steve looked confused, but Connie just smiled, knowing that he had sprinted over just to try and fix things with you. You didn't know how to feel. Javier's chocolate brown eyes were sparkling with unspent tears and his heart blossomed when he saw that you were safe. That no hard harm had come to you.

He approached you and fell to his knees. You placed your mug on the coffee table and let your boyfriend take both of your hands. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into your wrist. Once again, Javier was speechless— just wanting this moment to last forever. Wanting you to be safe and healthy in your arms.

Connie nudged Steve who cleared his throat. "Uh, we'll give you two some privacy." he said before dragging Connie out of the living room and into the kitchen.

The second it was just you two, Javier dropped his head and his heart broke. "I'm so sorry," he sobbed, warm tears falling down his cheeks. You shuffled off the sofa and fell to your knees, facing him, and pulled him into a hug. 

"Don't cry," you hushed. "Javier… I just wish you could be honest with me."

"When you left earlier, shit, I thought I had lost you for good. I thought you were never coming back." he admitted, his voice croaking as the ache in his heart intensified. Your face softened at his revelation. "I know it might not seem like it, but everything I do, I do it because I love you."

You ran your fingers through his hair and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I worry about you Javi," you whispered. "And seeing you so injured today, it really scared me. You weren't telling me anything. Do you understand how that might make me feel?"

"I do," Javi promised, squeezing your hands tight. "When I said the DEA sent me out on a mission… that wasn't exactly true. I found a lead myself. And I didn't tell anyone. I went out to pursue the lead and got in an entanglement with the Capo himself. He saw the photo of you that I keep in my wallet and he threatened to hurt you. He said if I told anyone about my findings at the cartel, he'd get his sicarios to hunt you down and… listen, my love. They do bad things to pretty girls like you. And I couldn't risk it. I was so afraid."

Javier felt ashamed. Ashamed for lying to you, and also, he didn't want you to see him as weak. But you could never think such a thing of your boyfriend. He was the strongest man you knew. So brave and compassionate. And after this revelation, you saw a whole new side to him.

Your finger gently brushed over his bicep. "The capo did this to you?" you whispered, feeling your cheeks burning with rage at how a drug lord had gaslit Javier into staying silent by making threats over your safety.

"No, but one of his men," Javier explained. "When, when they mentioned you. I got so mad. I raised my fist and-"

"Oh Javi," you whispered, wiping the tears that filled your eyes. You pressed your forehead against his. "You could've just told me."

"I wish I had now." Javier admitted. "I really thought you were going to break up with me."

You pulled away from your boyfriend, but your hands were still resting on his shoulders. You looked deep into his dark eyes and found nothing but guilt and remorse plastered over his face. "No," you shook your head and offered him a small smile that immediately eased him. "We had a fight, but I still love you."

Javier smiled back, the corners of his eyes crinkling in delight. "I love you too." he grinned. "Come on, let's go home." he said, taking your hand and pulling you to your feet.

"Okay," you hummed. "Cuddling up in bed with take-out and a corny movie sounds great right about now." you reflected back on Javier's previous compromise and Javier let out a hearty chuckle, pulling your hand up and brushing his lips delicately over your knuckles.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." he professed, his eyes sparkling. "So please baby, there's going to be times I fuck up- but please don't leave me."

"Whatever the future has in store for us, we will get through it together." you assured him with a soft kiss on his lips.

Permanent taglist:

@goth-topic​  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria

[dragonboydominicc]

How soul-crushingly devastating was it when John found out Sherlock had a girlfriend

When you watch HLV, as soon as John realises it’s Janine stepping out of Sherlock’s bedroom it’s as if all hope drained his eyes. He’s absolutely desecrated at the fact a Sherlock now has a girlfriend.

Mind you, he’s the one who got married to a woman just before this. Hell, all those years he was the one going out practically every night and finding new ladies to date one by one. They were so meaningless he even forgot which one was which despite having differing physical attributes.

He should be happy that Sherlock finally could be happy for the same reason he is. But he isn’t.

He detests the idea of Sherlock being romantically involved with anyone. Sure, only two prominent examples being Irene and Janine as John has seen them for himself. You’ve all seen how he was with Irene- “You..... /flirted/ with Sherlock Holmes?” Even had to say his full name as he just couldn’t believe the possibility. John is a jealous man, that’s for sure.

He wants Sherlock all to himself.

He only went out for girlfriends for the sake of having girlfriends. A societal need, if you will, from having internalised homophobia. Now- and possibly even back then- he realised how little they all meant to him, he never focused on them- “Don’t make me compete with Sherlock Holmes,” not forgetting “You’ll do anything for him,”

All throughout, it was him doing the dating, “romance”. Never Sherlock- John knows this, so why now?

Sherlock having a girlfriend is such an intangible, absurd concept to John that he’s left in mental disarray at trying to find out why- why?- someone he knew for so long finally has a partner. The only reason Sherlock Holmes could have a partner is to use them and John was indeed right- Sherlock used Janine to get to Magnussen.

Janine was a farce. He realised that later. Relief.

But before that he was absolutely distraught.

The way his face dropped when he heard Sherlock and Janine- laughing!- in the bathroom.

The way he’s sat forward; tense, unnerved.

The classic John Watson smile of Pure Annoyance.

The little shake of his head in disbelief after Sherlock confirms his relationship.

The fact that he’s not even listening to Sherlock talk about Magnussen- he’s going through Hell rn.

THE FACT THAT SHERLOCK EMPHASISED ON MAGNUSSEN BEING THE CURATOR OF EVIL AND HE’D JUST “you have?” PLEASE the regret he’s feeling after losing his chance. He reasoned that he would still be around albeit marriage as always and things would be fine again, but it doesn’t happen that way this time. And he’s utterly defeated.

“You- you are in a relationship?” John buddy, I’m glad you’re sat down, if not it’d be carnage.

He thought Sherlock was the one who should be maturing and growing- throughout the series, Sherlock does do that (but at what cost?)- when really it was John who should’ve buried the homophobic lessons he’s grown up with and took his chance because /it doesn’t last forever/.

“Care to elaborate?” The wide angle shot after Sherlock speaks says it all. It hasn’t sunk in and it will never sink in.

AND THE POV SHOT WHERE IT BLURS SHERLOCK’S HAND IS ON JANINE’S HIPS AND IT SHOWS HIM CLEAR IN THE BACKGROUND LOOKING SO SMALL. AAAAAAGHGGH.

“But we should have you two over for dinner,” No more it being John and Sherlock- It’s John and Mary with Janine and Sherlock. No more just the two of them. He’s heartbroken, but he should be settled into married life by now, shouldn’t he? The danger addict decided no more and chose a normal way of life, but he’ll never be truly satisfied with that. He knows this and he’s haunted by it. But still, he thought he could have it both ways. Being Mary’s husband and simultaneously being on adventures with Sherlock. Worth a long shot.

But then Janine came along and his hope shattered.

HIS MOUTH ACTUALLY FALLING OPEN AND HIS EYES WIDENING WHEN SHERLOCK AND JANINE KISSED. I COULD WRITE A MILLION PAPERS ON THAT MOMENT.

“Dinner, Me and Mary coming around with wine... and sitting.” HE DOES NOT WANT THIS. HE HATES WHAT HE’S BECOME. HE WANTS OUT BUT HE KNOWS HE WILLINGLY TRAPPED HIMSELF IN THERE. AND FOR WHAT? TO KEEP UP THE STATUS QUO OF A WHITE PICKET FENCE HOUSE.

Then he realised Sherlock was becoming like him too, Janine was his way up there with John- becoming “normal”. Again, he should be happy.

But Sherlock Holmes isn’t supposed to be like that.

Tldr: John sees Sherlock has a girlfriend and he isn’t too happy about that. John felt like he actually lost Sherlock. Powerless. Absolutely devastated. And it was all his fault.

-

Hello, this is my first Sherlock discussion post and I am enthralled to write more. Replies, reblogs and sharing your own opinions etc are very much appreciated. Thank you for reading.

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Hello... this is a bit of an emergency request cuz I feel like sht rn... bit of a backstory, I won a contest in our school. They’ve given me prizes, praises, etc etc... but I still feel disappointed and self conscious, like what if they take that back? What if I didn’t really win and it’s all just a mistake? It’s because I am so used to losing and now that I’ve won something, I feel like I don’t deserve it... can you do hcs about inarizaki and nekoma about their manager who feels exactly like that? Like they feel like they don’t deserve the praises she’s given? Thank you so much❤️

Anon-chan!! I wasn't planning on posting today but as soon as I saw your request, I could not help myself!! This is an absolute emergency, I hope you're hanging in there, love.😭😤💖

I know this might be out of the blue, but you are lovely, talented, and wonderful, and you really do deserve all the praise you're receiving for your win! I'm so proud of you, congratulations!! and I'm so happy to have such a talented and wonderful individual reading my work and supporting me.

If you need to chat about this, my DM's are open. I love you, Anon-chan, and I hope you enjoy these soft comforting headcanons I've written for you.

(these lil fishies are rooting for you too!!)

Comforting their adorable manager

Characters: Nekoma X fem! manager, Inarizaki X fem! manager

Warnings: none, maybe mentions of self depreciation.

Nekoma

Let's start with our favourite cat team :) You've entered a competition in school, after our sweet Yaku signed your name up.

“Ku? Why'd you do that?” you asked him. You were apprehensive about joining the competition because you weren't sure if you could handle the disappointment of losing.

But one look at Yaku's excited face and warm smile made you reconsider.

You handed in your submission, with support from the entire team, and promised yourself not to think of it, eventhough it silently bit away at the back of your mind.

Days had passed, and finally, it was the day of the awards ceremony, which the entire team insisted on attending.

You tried persuading them not to come, but they wouldn't hear of it. “Kitten, we're here to support you, just go out there, and believe in yourself the way we do, okay?” said Kuroo with a soft smile on his face.

You nodded, but you didn't really think you might be the winner of the competition.

The principal finally announced the name of the winner, and the words "y/n, l/n" left his lips. You were in disbelief and shock. Did you really win this?

The excited cheer from your cat babies confirmed it, as you walked to the stage to receive your prize.

Yamamoto wrapped you in a hug, and he was joined by the rest, quickly forming a group huddle, with you in the middle. “I'm so proud of you, y/n!” said Yaku with a knowing smile.

You didn't know why, but you felt empty. Unworthy. What if it's all just been a mistake, and I don't actually deserve all of this? These thoughts ate away at your happiness and you felt yourself feeling upset, and turning rigid in the group hug.

Kenma immediately noticed, and rubbed your shoulder in a comforting way.

“Are you okay, kitten?” he asked you in an affectionate way, which was rare for him. You felt so comfortable in the boys' presence that you broke down in tears in front of them.

They steered you away and out of the auditorium. Kai gently wiped your tears. He felt horrible, knowing you felt sad, and desperately wanted you to smile, and be happy again.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” asked Yaku in a warm tone. He engulfed you in a hug, and gently rested your head in the crook of his neck. “Is everything okay?”

You confessed to him, and the rest of the team that you felt unworthy of receiving the prize, and your fear of it being taken back at some point, which left you empty and insecure.

Inuoka softly ruffled your hair. He wanted to cheer you up desperately. “Y/n-chan, I think you deserve it. You've been working so hard on your submission, I would've been surprised if you didn't win.”

“Yeah! You're talented and dedicated, not to mention extremely hard-working. The school board doesn't make mistakes when selecting winners, kitten.” said Kenma with a straight face.

It cheered you up, when you heard their words, especially Kenma's. You knew he'd never lie.

Yamamoto pushed through and effortlessly placed you on his shoulders, “let's buy ice cream to celebrate our nekoma queen's well deserved win!”. He had replaced the comforting atmosphere with one of energy and happiness.

“yes, let's.” said Kuroo with a grin. The team followed behind you and Yamamoto, eager to spend more time with their precious manager.

Kuroo bought your favourite ice cream up to you when you reached, and Yamamoto let you off his shoulders whilst he went to buy his own.

He laughed when he saw you got some on your nose, and wiped it away gently, giving you a small kiss after he was done.

“you deserved your win today, my little kitten” was all he could say before giving you a wink and stealing some of your ice cream. “and you'll win again, okay? We believe in you.”

Inarizaki

It's the last match of your competition, and you're filled with energy and adrenaline. Your entire volleyball team is at the bleachers, there to motivate and support you.

It's finally a match point, and the whole gym goes silent as you earn the final point, thus making you the victor. The twins are exploding with happiness, and Suna's recording it, determined to capture this priceless memory forever.

You happily wave back at them, until a feeling of fear and unease rushes over you, causing you to lurch, discomfort evident on your face.

The team picks up on it immediately, and wait for you to receive your prize before rushing over to you to congratulate you.

Atsumu picks you up and spins you around before peppering kisses over your face. He's like an enthusiastic puppy, and you forget about your unease for a little while.

“Congratulations, y/n-san”, says Kita. He's so proud of you, and looking into his eyes, his feelings reflected in them, you begin to sob quietly.

The team gets very protective of you, and Aran scoops you in his arms as the rest of the team follows him out, forming a protective circle around you.

“What's wrong, oni?” (btw!! headcanon that Osamu calls y/n, "onigiri", "oni" for short, because he loves y/n, and he loves onigiri :D)

You tearfully look up at him and express your fear at not deserving the prize or your win. “What if they recount the matches, and I'm not actually the one with the most wins? I feel so empty, and I'm not used to winning, this feels so strange and beautiful, I'll be heartbroken if it's taken away. I'm not worthy of this...”

Their hearts squeeze at your confession. How could you, their precious, beautiful, talented manager ever doubt herself?

Suna is the first to speak, and he leans down to you and wipes your tears before they fall. “If only you saw yourself the way I see you, y/n. Then you'd understand how talented and worthy you really are.”

You blushed at Suna's words, but Kita continued the momentum. He wanted to make sure you understood. “You won, y/n-san. It's evident that you're the best here, and you deserve every single congratulation and word of praise you get.”

Aran is just patting comfortingly on your shoulder and giving you the physical affirmation to let you know that he is there for you.

Osamu then feeds you an onigiri, and smiles. “Let's go home, Oni, we'll have a cheer-up session there.” the team's main objective now is to have a relaxing and soft afternoon, whilst taking care of their tired and demotivated little princess. They can't bear seeing her sad.

Atsumu takes your hand in his and you guys make your way to the twins' house.

When you arrive, Atsumu carries you and places you on the couch. Osamu is hunting for food in the kitchen, as Aran finds a blanket to wrap your legs with, seeing how you get cold easily.

Suna rests his head on your blanketed lap and falls asleep immediately, and you quicky follow suit, sleeping on the couch.

“Yer not gonna believe what—” announces Osamu, but he's cut off by the team, noticing you and Suna asleep. They're all silently seething with jealousy, and Atsumu makes his way beside you and leans on your shoulder.

“Nap time, I suppose. She must be tired. Being the best is hard work, after all” says Kita fondly, as he cuddles up to the other side of you.

Osamu settles down next to Atsumu and glares at him, he wants to be near you too, but he suffices by gently holding your hand. I want to be closer, but this is enough for now, I think. He too succumbs to slumber, next to his twin.

The last, Aran, wraps another huge blanket on the team, and positions himself next to Kita. The team enjoys a peaceful afternoon with you, reminding you of a silent message that you'll always have them.

“I think you're so amazing, and I hope someday, we'll show you exactly how amazing you are”

Taglist: @k-sakusa-old @osamusriceballs

[nbrook29]

So a few weeks ago, @foxsake5 sent me one of those dialogue prompts, and at the time I wasn’t taking them anymore but since she’s the sweetest I just couldn’t say no 😌💖

I’m sorry for the wait, I hope this isn’t awful :)

Therefore, ladies and gentlemen:

159. [text] Also, my bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall.

***

The hopes he had late last night of waking up with all his symptoms miraculously gone vanish seconds after he wakes up and gets aware of his surroundings. 

His head still feels like it’s full of cotton, eyes sting and itch at the same time, and his nose being all stuffy is the proverbial cherry on top of his misery. Before he can fully grasp this truly pathetic situation he’s in, he feels the beginnings of a sneezing fit brewing in his nostrils and sure enough, a moment later all hell breaks loose.

When he finally finishes, his chest aches with the effort and he drops his head back onto the pillow, whining at the unfairness of it all. 

Every year, it’s the same story. Spring comes, trees and flowers release tiny grains to fertilize other plants and Robbe is doomed. He’s so fucking doomed. April barely arrives and he turns into a sneezing, itching, coughing, swollen mess. It’s not pretty. Far from it actually. 

He curses himself for being stupid and believing he was cured after last year’s very mild case. Thinking about it now, it was probably due to being forced to stay in the house for the entire month more than anything. All his hopes of battling this fucking thing forever are now officially gone. His disappointment is immeasurable, his day is ruined.

And, Sander’s not here.

Why is he not here.

Why isn’t he lovingly stroking his brow to ease his sinuses pressure like he did last night.

He’s gonna have to have a serious conversation with his boyfriend because this is just unacceptable behavior.

Tugging the duvet tighter around himself to prevent the chilliness of the room from touching on his toasty warm body, he reaches for his phone. When Sander’s beautiful face welcomes him from his screen background, he yearns for his comforting presence even more. Yes, he’s being a tad dramatic, but sick Robbe has always been a drama queen, needing care and attention. Mama Ijzermans always laughs at him, saying he turns into a five year old when down with a runny nose. There may be a bit of truth to that statement, Robbe is a man enough to admit that. He just really hates having to blow his nose every ten seconds and all that, okay? Sue him.

Just as he’s about to start typing, his eye catches something flickering in the sunlight on Sander’s pillow. Frowning, he shifts closer to inspect it and discovers sprinkles of glitter covering the bottom half, and it’s honestly barely detectable, but for Robbe’s skilled eye it’s no hardship. 

Weird. Unless he somehow missed the fact that Sander turns into a sparkly unicorn every night at midnight in the last year and a half, there’s no reasonable explanation for glitter being in his bed.

He decides to leave it be for the time being and goes back to the job at hand.

R: Where are u and why aren’t u here 

S: Hello to you too, love of my life, light of my day 

R: ☹️

S: I had to run home cause I forgot I promised my mum I'll be there when the couch delivery comes

R: That's a very elaborate excuse for you abandonning me

I won’t hold it against you if you decided to leave me after being faced with my gross snotty self :(

S: You’re not gross

R: I don’t believe you

S: Okay you’re a tiny bit gross rn but I'm not afraid of your snot 💪🏻

I'll be back in 40 minutes x

R: I'll try to survive til then 🥺

I miss you 🥺

I need your cuddles 🥺

I miss your fingers in my hair, my head hurts less then 🤧

S: You're so sweet when you're all sniffly 😂

R: That's cause I need you to get your butt here faster

S: I'll try my best

R: Okay :(

Hey sander?

S: Yeah?

R: My bed has glitter in it for reasons I do not recall

S: 😶

R: Why is there glitter in my bed

S: Idk

R: I hate glitter

S: Maybe it's the allergies making you see things

R: 😠 what did u do why is there glitter in my bed????

S: Gotta go the delivery guy is here love youuu 

R: SANDER!!!

***

When he wakes up next time his head is still stuffed, but the feeling of warmth coming off Sander’s body and his hand playing with his hair makes it that much bearable. Scooching closer, he wraps his arm around his waist and buries his face into his black t-shirt, hoping the graphical form of Freddie Mercury in the front of it won’t mind much if he messes it with his runny nose by accident.

“I bought croissants on my way over, and there’s hot lemon tea waiting for you in the kitchen. Do you feel like getting up?” Sander asks in a gentle tone, hand stilling where it felt so good on Robbe’s scalp.

And no, he doesn’t really feel like it. So he decides to use the power of his eyes on Sander and rests his chin on his chest, giving him a pleading look that he knows his boyfriend is far from being immune to. 

“Bring it here?”

Sander regards him for a second like he’s searching for a strength inside him to say no to him, but very quickly he gives up, head shaking at himself as his fingers resume the ministrations in Robbe’s hair.

He lets out a deep sigh. “I’m such a pushover, aren’t I?” And Robbe knows he won because there’s a smile tugging at Sander’s lips and a moment later, he disentangles himself from Robbe’s grabby arms, heading to the kitchen for their breakfast.

They eat in bed, sitting side by side, shoulders brushing as they keep reaching for the goodies on the tray balanced on Sander’s thighs. Robbe has his feet tucked under his calves, his extra clinginess during sick time coming out in all force, but Sander doesn’t comment on it, just smiles and kisses his temple, looking like he doesn’t mind to be his personal teddy bear for the time being. He lets Robbe lie half on top of him when they watch silly youtube videos and draws mindless patterns on his back as his arm is probably asleep from being stuck in the same position. His fingers make goosebumps rise all over Robbe’s body and he must be thinking the shiver is the result of cold because he then meticulously tucks the comforter around him, making sure Robbe is burrito-like and safe from cold.

It’s the first time Robbe has been somewhat under the weather since they got together and he melts at every caress and gentle touch that Sander provides without even thinking about it and just in general being this five star on booking.com thoughtful boyfriend.

So yeah, Sander is passing this when-in-sickness exam with flying colors, Robbe thinks, as he leaves a few kisses on what looks like Freddie Mercury’s hair, reveling in Sander’s content sigh.

It’s an all around peaceful afternoon, except when the peace is occasionally broken with sneezing, blowing (only nose, damn it) and groaning in displeasure. Sander is taking it all like a champ, teasing him only a little and handing tissue after tissue, his face twisting at the grossness of Robbe’s state only a few times. Mostly, he just squeezes him tighter, scratches his back in that way he likes, kisses the pout out of his face despite the gross factor and makes him a fresh tea. 

He even cooks him a soup when Robbe naps out of things he finds in Robbe’s mom fridge, leaving Robbe himself gaping at him in astonishment, more so when the soup actually turns out good, because he had no idea Sander could cook something more than croques. 

The confession earns him a light jab in the ribs, light because Sander is still considerate of his state, but jab indeed because he will not stand for Robbe disbelief in his cooking skills, hell no. Robbe then keeps moaning in pleasure at the taste of every single spoon of the tomato soup to show his gratitude (and because it’s really good) and Sander rolls his eyes at him, but there’s a pleased smile on his face that lets Robbe know his ruffled feathers have been smoothed.

When they get back to just simply lounging around in bed with Robbe breathing (wheezing) loudly as he plays with Sander’s fingers, he remembers something.

Propping his head with his hand, he narrows his eyes at Sander. “So what about that glitter?”

The guilty look that immediately blooms on Sander’s face leaves him with no doubt that it was his fault. He thumps his chest in frustration.

“I’m sorry! I just, I was kinda bored after you fell asleep so fast last night, and, um, I bought some new paints yesterday,” he explains, wincing at Robbe’s growing frown. He scratches his head before he continues as if to delay the fallout. “And I wanted to try them out a bit and some of them might have contained, um, glitter in them?” he ends in a squeaky voice, waiting for Robbe to blow up, because he’s well aware of his burning hate for glitter. 

It’s like herpes. Once it’s on you, it never goes away.

“I can change the sheets later?” Sander adds wide-eyed, buttering him up as he leans in to kiss him once, twice, three times, until the scoff on Robbe’s lips melts completely. 

He could get mad, but Sander has been so sweet today and he’s looking so apologetic now, like he’s actually afraid Robbe may throw him out the door for this unfortunate incident of bringing that abomination into his house. The idea is so ridiculous it makes him giggle, and at first, Sander’s confused, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Robbe doesn’t stop, he scoffs at him and pouts.

“Ugh, you made me believe you’re gonna yell at me and put a ban on sex for a month or something, jerk.” 

He folds his arms all petulant as Robbe keeps rolling in bed, laughing, but then the sneezing fit abruptly stops Robbe’s fun and he sits up straight, letting out one sneeze after another, losing count after the eighth one. He thinks he got to twenty in the end, his new record, and when it’s finally over he feels so miserable and achy he doesn’t feel like laughing anymore. His eyes are so watery it feels like they’re gonna spill out any second now, nose rubbed so red it’s painful to even breathe and cheeks burning hot from the congestion.

Sander keeps handing him tissues, holding the waste bin in his other hand, and Robbe must look really awful because all signs of sulking are gone from his now sympathetic face as he gathers him into his arms, whispering sweet nothings into his hair as Robbe hides his face in the crook of his neck to keep his frustration tears at bay.

Sander is graceful enough to not say anything when a few escape anyway.

“Maybe you should see a doctor, huh?” he suggests after a while, hand stroking Robbe’s arm. “Maybe he will give you something?”

Robbe shakes his head, his voice raspy when he replies. “It’s no use, the doctor is gonna give me stuff that’s gonna make me drowsy. I just need to get over those first few days, it always gets better afterwards.”

He gets a lingering peck to his forehead. “Okay.” 

“Thanks for being so amazing.” Robbe looks at him with sincerity from under his droopy lids, thumb sweeping under his eye in caressing motion. Sander just smiles, shaking his head a little as if Robbe’s gratitude is silly.

“You’re always there for me when the situation is reversed, right?”

And they both know he’s not talking about allergies, of course he’s not. No more words are necessary as Robbe considers him for a few seconds, love shining in his bloodshot eyes before he shifts closer to place a kiss on his chin and then snuggles to him as close as humanly possible, his heart full when Sander does the same.

Robbe’s eyes sting too much for them to keep watching anything on their phones, but they’re also too lazy to get up and actually do something and they’re not yet hungry enough to think about preparing dinner. So to kill time, Sander quizzes him about Bowie and his lyrics, the year and a half of them being a couple pretty much skyrocketing Robbe’s knowledge about this man, so he knows the answers to 3/4 of the questions, Sander's eyes gleaming with pride as he pretends to wipe the imaginary tear making Robbe giggle and forget about his state for a while.

Eventually, Sander’s calming and sweet like honey voice lulls him to sleep, and the last thing he registers as he’s losing the fight to keep his eyes open is Sander chuckling as he promises him quietly to paint him in all of the intense colors of those glittery paints he owns soon and there’s nothing he can do to stop him.

[wreckofawriter]

Drunken Kisses

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Alochal use, swears like twice

Request: @justsomeficsyo hey my love, I hope you're doing well with lockdown! Could I request number 46 with Draco? If not use it for any other character (if you're sick of writing for him), I always love ur writing! ❤️❤️

46- you’re drunk at this festival and dancing on the table and when you eventually fell i caught you

A/n: not gonna cap, kinda feel like this is shit but oh well. Idek what to say, I'm pretty sure I'm in a slump rn, my last two fics have been actual garbage. I hope you guys like it better than I do.

    The quidditch world cup was something you had been wanting to go to for ages. You went to one when you were fourteen but it didn’t end well and since then all you had been wanting to do was go to one where you wouldn’t be almost burnt alive. You loved the sport, you played it for your own school and made a decent beater, since you graduated and stopped playing your thirst for the game grew. You finally decided after your second year of college you would go. You rounded up a bunch of your friends and apparated to the stadium. It had been built the year before, brand new everything, you were thrilled. 

    You and your friends all have the same intention when going to the game and that was to watch quidditch and get completely smashed. You were going into your third year of college the next year which meant you would have to buckle down and work so this was about it for the year. You were dressed in red and black clothes that showed too much, one of your favorite teams, the Buglrians was back in the cup thanks to their far too attractive seeker; Viktor Krum. You and four others piled into your tent where Gabby and Annabeth had already started drinking. You laughed at them claiming you weren’t going to start till five and they booed mixing up a margarita with too much vodka. 

    By the time the match started, you were two drinks in and Gabby was nearly blackout drunk. Annabeth had already passed out. You tried to wake her up before sighing and tucking the covers up to her chin. You made your way through the crowds of people, you and the three girls you were with all should have been wearing more than you were but none of you gave areally cared. Alex had the word ‘Krum’ painted across her stomach and you and Ruby both had black and red handprints covering your legs and arms. You were all covered in glitter and glow sticks which were enchanted to circle around your frame. 

Some Holyhead Harpie fans booed as you walked past and you flipped them off while Gabby shouted, “You’re just mad you're gonna lose!” 

You got to the stands pushing your way through a few people and climbing way too many stairs until you were in the center of the piled seats, You stood at the railing as Alex passed you a beer. You made small talk until the announcer came on introducing the teams. You all screamed like crazy when the Bulgarians flew into the field, Krum did a handstand on his broom whipping past and Ruby mumbled, “God he’s hot” Next to you. 

The game was amazing. You were getting progressively louder as it went on. 40 points Harpy’s, 20 Bulgaria, then 60 Harpy’s, 70 Bulgaria. Until finally, as the game progressed Krum came dive-bombing out of the sky streaking after a flash of gold. He caught it moments before pulling upwards holding it in his fist. You were elated. 

The four of you headed back towards your tent, Gabby was giggling about something you couldn’t make sense of as when suddenly a guy around your age popped out of his tent holding a pack of beers.

    “Blaise?” Ruby asked in disbelief. The name rung a distant bell.

    He turned towards you, “Holy shit Ruby?” 

    She laughed walking over to him, you followed a bit confused, your mind hazy with alcohol. 

    They talked for a second before she turned to introduce you. You smiled and shook his hand and suddenly it struck you, “Oh! You’re the guy she had a major crush on in high school.” 

    Your eyes widened as you slapped your hand over your mouth Alex burst out laughing. 

    “Sorry.” You mumbled, “Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

    The man brushed it off with a wave of his hand, “You guys should head over with me, a bunch of us have a bonfire going and I think someone brought a keg.” 

    “Then why are you carrying a six-pack of beer?” Alex asked.

    “Because their stuff probably tastes like shit.” He shrugged, “Are you guys coming?” 

    Ruby glanced back at you and you shrugged, “Why not?” 

   

    You followed Blaise about a quarter-mile from your tent to where a massive fire was raging. There must have been thirty college kids in the area, filling picnic tables and dancing on the grass. Someone had brought two kegs actually and it was apparent that a good chunk of them were hammered. It was dead silent until you stepped into a small glowing ring and suddenly the music was so loud you had to shout to hear anything.

    The smell of burning wood, weed, and beer was thick as yelling and laughter could be heard above the pop song which blared overhead. You laughed turning to see that Alex was already making her way towards one of the kegs. You followed her getting booed by a group of people sitting at a picnic table who were adorned in green and yellow. 

    “You’re the ones who lost!” Alex shouted from over your shoulder handing you a blue cup. Blaise was right, the beer tasted like shit.

    Draco watched as Blaise returned with four girls in tow. He sighed, rolling his eyes, not at all surprised by the new additions. All four were in black and red and were smiling widely. He snickered watching as one stumbled over nothing before finding her way to a picnic table. When his eyes landed on you they widened, your hair was messy and swiped back from your face, your cheeks flushed the shorts you were wearing left little to the imagination and the t-shirt was hugging your curves. You were stunning. His mouth went dry as his gaze followed you toward a keg, you laughed as one of your friends said something he couldn’t make out. Your smile was mesmerizing. 

    Draco was broken from his trance when Blaise coupled with one of the girls from before sat in front of him blocking his view.

    “Draco, you remember Ruby right?” he spoke gesturing towards the girl. 

    “Totally.” He lied, “Good to see you.” he craned his neck to the side attempting to catch a glimpse of you again. 

    Blaise raised an eyebrow, “Watcha looking for?” he asked, turning around too.

    “Nothing.” Draco shrugged, finding you sitting on the grass with the girl from before. 

    “See a hot girl?” Ruby joked, smirking following his gaze, “That’s y/n by the way.” 

    Draco felt his cheeks go hot, “I’m sorry who’s y/n?”

    “Who do you think?” She laughed, “The one you’re staring at, I’m not blind.” 

    “Which one is y/n again?” Blaise questioned, “Redhead or y/h/c?”

“Y/h/c.” Ruby responded, “She’s single you know.” she wiggled her eyebrows, “Very single.”

“Well, that’s convenient.” Baise mussed, “So is Draco” 

He rolled his eyes at their smirks and took a beer from the pack his friend had brought. His eyes wandered back to you as Ruby and Blaise’s conversation left without him. You were laying on your back now laughing hysterically as your friend tried to drink lying down, spilling beer down her front. You lifted out your wand to clean it before leaning over and whispering something into her ear. You waved it twice at the fire and suddenly it flickered deep black and red flames.  

“Bulgaria!” You and your friend shouted as Ruby turned around laughing. A few words from Harpy fans had the fire turned back to its original color. 

“Y/n! Alex!” Ruby called beckoning you towards them with a hand. 

You stumbled to your feet, white tennis shoes smudged with grass, “What’s up?” You giggled walking around the table and seating yourself next to Draco, Alex slumped on your other side.  

“Not much we were-” She was cut off when the song suddenly changed.

You squealed, leaping to your feet and hitting your bare knees on the hardwood, you didn’t seem to notice. You snatched Alex’s hand dragging her to her feet as well. You blurted out lyrics off-key as you climbed onto the table, glow sticks hovering around you as you swayed your hips to the music. You twirled on the tips of your shoes bringing your beer to your lips as a microphone 

Cheers and whistles from nearby people only encouraged you as you continued to drunkenly dance on the table “My loneliness is killing me, I must confess I still believe.” You drew out each word. Feet tapping along with the beat as Alex jumps up with you grabbing your hands. You sang together as Ruby howled with laughter beneath you. 

Your feet caught suddenly and you tumbled backward with scream you knocked directly into Draco’s’s chest knocking him from his seat and onto the grass with a thump. Draco groaned, opening his eyes and feeling his cheeks flush. You were laying on top of him, your hands holding you up as your face hovered just over his. 

Your eyes were wide as you traced the man’s features. His shimmering blond hair, deep red cheeks, sharp jawline, and icy blue eyes. Your heart sped in your chest as your gaze flicked down to his pink lips which were parted slightly. 

“You’re so pretty.” You mumbled and Draco felt his breath leave his lungs. 

“I should be saying that to you.” He countered shakily.

You giggled, staring for a moment too long, “I should probably stand up.” 

He nodded slowly, “Yeah.”

You got to your feet, Draco doing the same, both of you were bright red as you turned back to the group, Blaise winked at him and he rolled his eyes. 

The conversation continued and you slowly began to inch towards Draco craving his warmth, he smelt of expensive college and mint, it was intoxicating. The blonde almost jumped when he felt you lean onto him, your hand resting on his thigh. You laid your head onto his shoulder and Draco found himself resisting the urge to lean back into you. 

As the party began to dwindle Ruby decided that you should probably head back to your tent when Alex passed out on the table. 

“Where’s Gabby?” She asked glancing around to see her sitting with a group of girls you didn’t recognize. You pouted as she attempted to haul you to your feet.

“Y/n, we have to go.” She mumbled as you clung to Draco’s arm. He looked stunned.

“No!” You whined, “I don’t want to go!”

“God, you’re like a toddler when your drunk.” She huffed pinching the bridge of her nose. 

Finally, you got to your feet, stumbling and falling almost immediately. Draco stood to help you when he offered you a hand you took it but when he pulled you toward him you used that momentum to smash yourself onto his lips. 

You stood on your toes ramming your tongue into his mouth your eyes closed as you pulled him towards you. Draco kissed you back for just a second before pushing you away. 

Ruby stared at the scene her jaw dropped. 

“Why’d you pull away?” You pouted up at him, your hands fiddling with his shirt. 

“Because you are crazy drunk.” He responded hardly able to make out the sentence. 

“Fine. I'll kiss you when I’m not drunk.” You declared turning to Ruby, “Do you have a pen?” 

She shook her head.

You groaned snatching your wand from your pocket and shouting, “Accio pen!” about a dozen rushed at you. You snatched one turning to Draco and grabbing his hand, pulling up his shirt. You began to write on his forearm, the cap of the pen lodged between your lips. 

You pulled away, your phone number scrawled onto his skin, “You better call me.” You mumbled turning on your heels to follow your friends. 

Ruby snorted “You are going to regret so much of what just happened tomorrow morning.” 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

@chloe-geoghegan1

Masterlist

[wordsablaze]

9~ i’ve been in denial

tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…

A/N: this was meant to be angsty but it’s festive season n all so here’s the most fluff we can get rn <3

@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @blueboobutterfly @havenoffandoms @lasaga666​

previous chapter

-

“Hey, Jaskier?” Eskel asks as they reach their room.

Jaskier hums, perching on the edge of the bed and all but peeling his boots off, making a face at the way his feet free themselves with a soft squelching noise.

“Why haven’t you changed clothes yet?” Eskel continues, not exactly sure what he’d been expecting but definitely not having expected the way Jaskier freezes, his pulse spiking.

It’s almost alarming how quickly Jaskier manages to turn his panic into a grin. “I’ve been reliably informed that this blue really brings out my eyes and I don’t see any reason not to flaunt that. Certainly helps with bargaining for another drink, you know?”

“No, I don’t,” Eskel replies slowly.

Jaskier laughs brightly, too brightly. “Well, yes, I suppose witchers don’t often have to rely on their sense of fashion for coin, what with the whole monster-hunting business and-”

“Jas.”

“-the twin swords you all seem to carry. I mean really, they’re very intimidating to most people and while they may be useful, they’re not exactly in style. At least you’ve got a splash of colour rather than-”

“Jaskier.”

“-just black, not that there’s anything wrong with black but it does often give the impression you’re dressed for a funeral and that’s a pretty morbid picture to paint for yourself! Unless it’s Valdo Marx’s funeral, which would truly be a momentous occasion if you ask-”

“Jaskier!”

The bard flinches.

Eskel exhales softly, trying his best to cause any kind of panic. “I’m not mad, I’m just… I’m just worried. You almost drowned in those clothes and you’re gonna make yourself ill if you don’t wear something clean and dry.”

A small smile blooms on Jaskier’s face but he shakes his head anyway. “I- uhm, I… I don’t have anything else… with me.”

It’s not that Eskel hadn’t already guessed that, at least deep down, but it hurts to hear the confession anyway. “Then you should borrow something of mine,” he says before he can change his mind about his decision.

Jaskier’s eyes widen as he looks towards Eskel like he’s just offered up the moon itself. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I’m sure,” Eskel confirms before gesturing to where his bags are in the corner of the room. “You can just, uh, choose something you like. I’m afraid I don’t have bright colours but I do own more than funeral clothes.”

This time Jaskier’s laugh is genuine and he wastes no time in making his way over to the bags, carefully shuffling things around inside one before pulling out a black shirt that has long since faded into a soft, dark blue. The breeches he finds are just a shade darker but they match enough for him to look good when Eskel turns around again. Really good. In fact, he looks so good that Eskel suddenly understands what that woman from his last contract had been talking about when she’d said seeing her wife in her clothes was a truly magical experience.

“That bad?” Jaskier asks, half-laughing but clearly not very amused if the sour scent of worry is anything to go by.

Eskel shakes his head, forgetting how to use words for a second. “No, no. Not bad at all, it’s just… I didn’t think my clothes could ever look so good.”

And he’s not even lying. He is surprised that his ordinary clothes can seem so fashionable even if that’s probably a result of Jaskier generally being Jaskier and he’s even more surprised to realise that, even though they’re clearly big for him, they don’t just comically hang off him - Geralt certainly hadn’t mentioned that his- that the bard is built so well.

The red that floods Jaskier’s face most definitely does not match his new outfit but Eskel thinks it looks stunning all the same. Not that he says that aloud, no, he’s taken to biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything else stupid and scare off his favourite bard.

“I think I’m going to use the stars as an excuse to sleep again. Could you-” he bites his lip for a moment, “-uhm, that is, could you try and be back here for when I wake up?”

Eskel frowns, letting go of his tongue. “Back here?”

Jaskier exhales softly, shakily. “Or not. I mean, of course you must not be tired again since witchers don’t need as much sleep anyway but I- you mentioned travelling on together?”

Ah, so they’re not over the doubt yet.

“Are you losing your memory, bardling, or do you still remember what we discussed at the table earlier?” Eskel asks, trying his best to sound like he’s teasing instead of insulting.

Jaskier’s eyebrows furrow as he bites his lip and Eskel simply waits, smiling softly when Jaskier’s eyes eventually widen and his scent softens into hope and relief. “When you said you’d choose me?”

Nodding, Eskel gestures to the bed. “I meant it, and now I’ve chosen to forget my bedroll again.”

With a pointed glance at Eskel’s bags by his feet, Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Is that your attempt at flirting me into bed, darling?

Really not having predicted that kind of response, Eskel’s mind decides to stop functioning for a moment. He would be embarrassed but the way Jaskier laughs makes him reconsider his urge to flee and just shrug instead. Neither of them say anything else as they settle under the blanket again but a soft gasp escapes Eskel when Jaskier curls around him bit by bit until they’re almost entirely pressed together from Eskel’s chin resting on Jaskier’s head to their feet locked around one another’s. It’s the closest Eskel has ever been with anyone outside of Kaer Morhen’s cold winters spent huddled in front of the hearth and he can’t stop the smile that takes over his face.

“Promise you won’t leave while I’m asleep?” Jaskier asks sleepily.

“I promise I’ll be here when you wake up,” Eskel confirms, wanting not for the first and probably not the last time to literally knock some remorseful sense into Geralt’s thick skull.

“Thank you,” Jaskier mumbles just before he drifts off, most likely missing the way Eskel quietly confesses that it’s his pleasure.

He doesn’t sleep for even a second, he doesn’t need to after all the sleeping they’ve done in the past few days, but he does let himself relax and true to his word, he doesn’t move a muscle until Jaskier stirs again.

“Hello there,” Jaskier yawns, grinning up at him before he rolls out of Eskel’s arms and stretches his limbs as if he were a cat.

Eskel hums, returning the bard’s smile. “How do you feel?”

He already knows that Jaskier will feel better, it’s obvious that he would after sleeping off the siren-induced exhaustion, but it only feels right to ask. Besides, Jaskier’s eyes light up when he does and the warmth of his happiness fuels Eskel’s own.

“Like I could survive a lightning strike,” Jaskier replies theatrically, and Eskel can’t stop the snort that escapes him. Thankfully, Jaskier only rolls his eyes. “Well alright, if you want it in simple terms then I suppose I feel great, much better, well-rested, all of those plain descriptions.”

“What’s wrong with being plain?” Eskel asks, turning onto his side and resting his head on one palm just in time to see Jaskier glare at him like an overly passionate professor would at a hopelessly dispassionate student.

“I have never been plain a day in my life and I certainly do not intend to start now! Do you know how many ways there are to describe waking up, Eskel? I could list them for hours and still not be finished! And not to mention that after you have what may very well be one of the best nights of sleep you’ve had in years- no, decades, that you really cannot be satisfied with anything even close to a prosaically plain answer!”

Jaskier looks ready to fight someone to prove his point but all Eskel can focus on is that someone would want to poetically declare a night with him one of the best nights of sleep they’ve had in not even years but decades. He’d be lying if he said that, minus the sleeping part, he doesn't feel the exact same way.

“Eskel, are you even listening to me?” Jaskier whines, poking his cheek.

He blinks, bringing his attention back to Jaskier with a genuine smile. “I think I get your point, though I’m no bard and will have to make do with being plain.”

Jaskier scoffs. “You, plain? I think not. Have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

While Eskel is busy trying to recall the last time he’d looked in a river and wondering if catching his reflection in his ale counts, Jaskier springs off the bed with a nervous laugh. “I um, I didn’t mean any offence by that, truly, I was just…”

“I don’t own a mirror,” Eskel says, politely overlooking how worried Jaskier seems to look for some reason and the way he’s anxiously rubbing his fingertips together the way he tends to do when he’s expecting the worst.

“Then we’ll be needing a trip to the market,” Jaskier replies easily, the tension in his expression melting into both amusement and disbelief. Eskel doesn’t usually like going to the market on account of the not quite subtle stares and not quite hushed whispers, but he might be looking forward to it this time.

“Right now?” Eskel asks, which prompts Jaskier to remember he’s still wearing Eskel’s borrowed clothes and flush red again; Jaskier points an accusing finger at him but dissolves into laughter before he can say anything, laughing for so long that Eskel wonders if he’s gone mad. Finally, he shakes his head and pulls on his doublet, the lighter blue somehow working well with the rest of the outfit.

Eskel stays still, watching as Jaskier weaves his fingers through his hair so it sweeps to one side and pulls on his boots before picking up his lute and winking. “Might be useful to gather a little extra coin first. There’ll be food waiting for you if you decide you want to listen to more of my singing.”

As if there’s even the slightest possibility that he wouldn’t.

Still, Jaskier’s footsteps have long since faded when Eskel finally sits up and wonders how he so quickly went from leaving at the first hint of dawn to waiting for a bard to buy him a mirror. Not that he’s complaining, he might have a mean poker face but even he couldn’t pretend that finding a plateful of food waiting for him on a quiet corner table doesn’t warm his heart.

He doesn’t know what the song is about this time but it sounds lovely all the same, although not quite as lovely as the bright smile Jaskier sends his way when he notices him. He has all of three seconds to wonder what the mischievous look in those bright blue eyes is about before Jaskier starts singing about the rose of the wolves - about him - again, which leads to everyone raising their tankards at him even if they’re only half-awake.

“You don’t have to sing about me every time I enter the room,” Eskel tells him as he finishes up.

Jaskier shrugs, making sure his now-cased lute is balanced safely before slumping into the seat opposite him in yet another confusing but endearing show of priorities. “It’s the least I can do.”

No, it’s really not.

“I appreciate it,” Eskel says warmly, not sure he’d win in trying to convince Jaskier that he’s done far more than is expected of anyone for witchers, whether or not he’d initially meant to. Another day, perhaps.

“The markets will open soon, are you ready?” Jaskier asks once they near the end of their meals.

Eskel raises an eyebrow as if to remind Jaskier that witchers are known to always be ready for anything. Jaskier offers him a sheepish grin. “Yes, yes, I know you all have enhanced everything and all but what I meant is, do you want to go right now?”

He finishes his drink before replying. “Lead the way, bardling.”

Jaskier grins so widely that Eskel is afraid his face may crack. But all that happens is Jaskier practically inhales whatever is left of his food before rising to his feet and slinging the lute case over his shoulder. He’d ask why Jaskier is taking his lute with him but he knows the question would be thrown right back at him regarding the twin swords on his back so he doesn’t say anything, merely gesturing for Jaskier to lead the way and trying not to make it obvious how momentarily overwhelming he finds the subsequent scent of joy.

“I am going to find you the best mirror, darling, I swear!” Jaskier declares happily, and Eskel doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s probably never going to actually use such an object.

-

almost 22k and they're only just barely flirting, send help- no but really, i can’t believe the year is ending before any of my wips, oops :p

-

thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter

[bellesque]

idk if your requests are open still but royal loki concept with a midgardian reader— yeah? maybe? take it wherever you want from there and be creative because your other fics are and just amAZING! i might be late but anywayy— happy birthday, even though it was yesterday!

Midnight’s Mischief (Loki x Reader)

Read on my AO3.

Summary:

You only wanted to feel like a princess for a night.

You didn’t expect to meet an actual prince.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings/Tags: Fluff, Dancing, Royal Loki, some Cinderella Elements

A/N: Listen you can’t give me so much freedom like this because I feel in my bones this is going to turn into a multichaptered fic and I have a million other wips side-eyeing me rn

Tag List: @shiningloki @imnotrevealingmyname @wolfsmom1 @hanyasnape @lukeyirwy @toozmanykids @rorybutnotgilmore @myraiswack @green-valkyrie (Tag List is currently open! If you’d like to be a part of it, let me know!)

BEING IN A whimsical, fairytale ball has always been high on your list of escapism fantasies.

You wondered if princess parties (like the ones in movies) were actually real when royalty was still a thing. If they got to attend extravagant, lavish balls in venues that seemed to reach the high heavens, with castle corridors illuminated by candlelight and crystal chandeliers. Whether fact or fiction, you’ve never been more excited for a night than you are now.

Just for tonight, you allow the indulgence of looking—and feeling—like royalty.

Your heels clack against the marbled tiles of the venue as you and your friend Leigh navigate your way to the Regency Ballroom. Careful not to trip over your ball gown, you glance at Leigh. Beside you she shimmies, adjusting the top of her gown to fit her boobs better.

“I feel twelve,” she mutters, brazenly cupping her breasts.

“Oh, please. As if you’ve never wanted to be a princess for a night.”

“I mean, yeah, when I was twelve. And I’m saying this with love, but the fact that you’ve got on a fucking crown isn’t exactly helping me feel like an adult here.”

Your cheeks grow warm. “I’m sure I’m not the only one,” you say, a little defensive. “And by the way, it’s a tiara.”

Leigh smirks at you, perfectly painted lips curling at the edges. “Twenty bucks?”

“Fifteen.”

“Bo-ring.”

“Fine.”

She claps her hands, looping her arm with yours. The Regency Ballroom is right ahead. “I hope you know that I agreed to this because you said there’d be some yummy men. Potential knights in shining armor, all that jazz.”

“And I value your honesty,” you say, nodding a thank you to the servers who open the large doors as you approach. “But, for the record—”

“Whoa, the organizers of this thing were not playing.”

It’s true: the place is more than what you imagined from the email invite you received prior. Aside from the grandeur of the venue itself, the entire ambience transports you into what feels like another world entirely. Soft, regal music swells from the mini orchestra that plays on the raised platform, and everyone’s dressed in gowns of all colors and periods and styles.

It makes you a little giddy to see everyone commit to the event to such an extent. You wish this becomes a regular occasion.

“You don’t mind if I ditch you, right? If I, hypothetically, find someone cute?” Leigh grabs a glass of wine from a passing waiter. “Because I saw this guy in a tailcoat on the way inside, and he was kinda giving me looks already, so…”

Leigh is neither best friend nor fair weather friend. She’s in town for a few days, and having been partners in a high school class once, she somehow felt the need to ring you up, pleading for you to take her anywhere because she was dying of boredom.

You mentioned that you had an extra ticket, and she said yes before you could even finish your sentence and tell her it was to a costume ball.

“Hey, no worries,” you beam, plucking the wine glass from her fingers and taking a dainty sip, “by all means, mingle! Meet someone! Get swept off your feet! It’s a party. It’s what I was going to do whether or not you came anyway, so don’t be too guilty.”

“Okay, great!” She kisses you on the cheek. “Because he’s kind of already waiting.” Leigh jerks her head to the buffet table across the room, where a broad-shouldered man stands tentatively, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He’s clearly waiting for someone—that someone specifically being Leigh, if the not so surreptitious glances your way are any indication.

Before she can leave, a lady with a hoop skirt that’s draped more than the large windows of the ballroom comes into your peripheral, something glittering atop her bouffant hair.

You lift your chin at Leigh triumphantly. “Pay up first, baby, you saw that tiara.”

“Fifteen.”

“You said twenty!”

“I changed my mind!” she calls as she lifts the hem of her gown off the floor, retreating. Laughing, Leigh waves and you bring up a hand as the man places a meaty hand on her shoulder blade.

Well. You knew you’d lose her for the night. Just not this quickly.

Still, what you said is true. Leigh’s absence doesn’t dampen your mood. You’re happy standing by the tables at the side, observing people and their different gowns, with a glass of rosé in hand. Couples trickle into and out of the ballroom dance floor; others mingle by the tables like you, occasionally nibbling on the fanciest finger food you could ever imagine. The light reflecting from the gorgeous, majestic chandelier dances over the partygoers, and you revel in the moment, wanting to commit this to memory. Simply existing in it. The minuet transitions into a waltz, and more people and their partners taking to the dance floor with excited grins on their faces.

You would like to take your dress out for a twirl at some point before the night ends. If only a gentleman were to ask.

“That’s a lovely color on you, my lady.”

Speak of the—you turn around, glad you didn’t startle so much to the point of spilling perfectly good wine, to face whoever spoke to you. A subtle smirk plays on the face of a lithe man dressed in what looks to be costume straight out of a period film. Or fantasy period film. It doesn’t really make sense, but somehow he makes it work.

You glance down at your gown: a rich forest green with silver detailing cinched around your waist. “Oh, uh… thanks.” You smile politely.

Only it falters after a couple seconds, because he pins you with an expectant look. “My… lord…?” you try, uncertain.

Satisfaction spreads across his face, confusing you mildly. Did he really wait to be addressed…?

“Would you care to dance?” he asks, taking a step towards you and bending forward. A bow, you realize, as he holds the posture while awaiting your answer.

“O-okay, sure.”

You slip your hand in his outstretched one, his slender fingers clasping around you and leading you gently to the middle of the dance floor. His back is as straight as a board as he guides you towards him, and when you’re a pace away he pulls you closer. His hand settles on the small of your back, yours on his shoulder.

And then you’re waltzing; slowly, tentatively, shyly. Though he takes the lead you can’t follow as well as you should, your bafflement blocking you from waltzing like you do in your daydreams. And as weird as it sounds, he’s distracting you from dancing—even if you’re dancing with him.

He’s good-looking. Strong, cutting features with a regal gait. He stands much taller than you are, his head angled down towards you so his green eyes pierce you with the intensity of the sun at high noon.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you. As much as you try to look away, fixate your attention instead on the couples that sway around you, your gaze always finds his. And he probably hasn’t looked away from you once. There’s no malice in it though—he regards you with somewhat of a silent, amused curiosity.

If it’s awkward to be dancing with a good-looking stranger who seemingly can’t take his eyes off you, it doesn’t help that you’re both painfully silent. You expect him to make polite small talk as he guides your steps—only aside from the lovely orchestra playing and the faint chatter of the attendees around you, all that’s heard is the sound of your breathing.

The music winds down, violins sustaining their last note, and your expectations are shattered once again when instead of this mystery man guiding you into a twirling finish, he spins you into the next dance.

Another waltz.

“Do I scare you, princess?” he asks, raising his chin slightly.

You jump a little at his sudden question. “Um. Maybe a little?”

The man sighs, giving a short chuckle as he shakes his head minutely. The hand on your back releases you as you circle around him, one of your arms outstretched as gracefully as you can manage, before you come back in front of him and rest your hand back on his shoulder.

“Perhaps my reputation does precede me,” he mutters.

You blink, even more confused now. “Sorry?”

“Do you…” He narrows his eyes in near disbelief. “Do you not know who I am?”

“I think I’d remember if you told me your name,” you say with a sheepish laugh. Of course you’d remember. With a face like his and the rich voice to match, meeting him on a night like tonight? You’d remember it forever.

“Ah. Then—forgive me, my lady.” He pulls away from you to bow cordially. “Prince Loki, of Asgard.”

Stunned doesn’t seem to cover the emotion racing through you. No one else seems to mind that you’ve both stopped smack dab in the center for him to bow to you with a flourish of his cape. He looks up at you, expectant, yet again, and so you hastily curtsy and mumble your name.

He rises, taking you once again in his arms and picking up where you left off in perfect rhythm to the music. It’s a little disorienting. Your mind struggles to catch up: so far he’s bowed to you twice, is leading you through a perfect waltz, and is, apparently, a prince.

“And your kingdom, my lady?”

“What?”

“Am I to believe you’re a princess with no people to rule over?” he smirks.

And then somehow, realization dawns on you: he’s an actor. Trying to get you into some kind of fantasy, medieval, whatever character to really sell the idea to yourself that you have actually been whisked away, into a story akin to fiction.

“Okay,” you snort, “since we’re doing this whole made up thing, fine, I’ll humor you. Uh”—you rack your brains, glancing at the chandelier overhead—“Genovia.”

“Genovia,” Prince Loki repeats, as though testing the name on his tongue. It comes out melodic and velvety, making you shiver involuntarily. “Sounds… quaint. Not as dreadful or painfully dull as some of the other kingdoms I’ve heard of tonight. What in the Nine is New Jersey?”

You laugh this time, an actual belly laugh, your head tipping back in mirth at his delivery. You sober up sooner than you’d like when you see he’s still absolutely mystified.

“Well, that’s what it is,” you add helpfully. “Genovia… it… yeah.”

“What are your people famous for?”

Damn. He’s really making you think. “Gosh, um…” You blow out a raspberry. “Horses? Apples? Archery? Oh! Mattress surfing.”

Prince Loki hums thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of it.”

Either he’s an exceptionally good actor, or he really hasn’t seen The Princess Diaries. Or, a part of you begins to argue, he could actually be who he says he is—

But that wouldn’t make sense.

Could it?

“Well, what about you?” you say quickly, seizing the opportunity to deflect. “What’s uh, what’s Asgard famous for?”

“The Realm Eternal,” Loki says, completely serious. “Warriors of strength, leaders of justice.” He pauses at your lost expression. “Have you not heard of it?”

You have a feeling he has more to say, so you shake your head. Prince Loki spins you around once, before continuing.

“Asgardians are the peacekeepers of the Nine Realms, endowed with strength of all facets to keep the realms from falling. Thwart the possible dangers it can be to itself before it starts, or finish disputes where they arise. We protect. Asgard plays a vital role, if not the most vital of all the realms.”

“And you’re their prince.”

The corners of Loki’s lips curl upwards. “One of them.”

“So you have a brother.”

You’re not sure why you’re still entertaining him at this point. The waltz’s cadence does nothing to separate you from each other, and neither does the lively first note of the polka. Instead Loki’s leading you into a quicker step, bouncing in the most poised manner you’ve ever seen a man dance in.

“Aye,” he says. “Most prefer him to myself.”

“I prefer you,” you blurt out mindlessly, immediately feeling regret in the form of heat crawling up your neck.

Prince Loki’s piercing green eyes light up in surprise. “Not many would,” he murmurs.

“Well, I mean—” you backpedal, “—I don’t—I haven’t met—”

The entrance to the ballroom rattles in its hinges, followed by a booming thud. Heads swivel to the source of the commotion and even the orchestra falters. You are no exception, craning your neck to look behind Loki and at the doors.

He is the only one who seems completely unfazed.

“Perhaps that is for the best. Ready for our big finish, princess?”

Bang! The doors swing open, and strange men in very detailed costumes—metal armor, odd-shaped helmets—charge in, long spears in hand. Your mouth falls open. You’ve never seen anything like them. The attendees gasp collectively, some dancers pulling away from their partners to retreat to the sides of the room.

But Loki places his hands on your hips, lifting you off your feet and into the air, and instructs, “Eyes on me, princess.”

“Wh—�� He spins you around, the world around you blurring, and you fix your attention on him so as not to get dizzy. “Prince Loki, I think we should get ou—”

He sets your feet on the ground, a mad intensity in his eyes—and Loki wraps his arms around you and kisses you.

Well. You’ve had multiple daydreams about how tonight would go. This is definitely not one of them.

His arms tighten around your waist, and swarms of butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. Your feet are on the ground, but with your fingers and toes tingling with every soft movement of his lips against yours, it feels like you’re floating. He’s kissing you. You’re kissing him.

The clanging of armor jolts you apart, but Loki keeps you within arm’s reach. Your heart pounds against your sternum.

“I like it when you say my name,” he murmurs.

“Prince Loki!” one of the strange men shouts. The prince in front of you flinches slightly, and then huffs in amusement.

“Don’t like it when they do.”

“I—what?”

Loki sighs. “I’m afraid I have to bid you good night. And farewell.”

“Wait, who are they?” Question after question presents itself, your mind a jumbled mess and your knees still shaking from that damn kiss. “What do they want?”

“The Einherjar. Ah. Well.” He brushes a thumb over your cheekbone. “What’s life without a little mischief?”

“Your Highness!”

“Where is he?”

He pulls you by the elbows, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, and whispers in a voice that could melt butter, “Something to remember me by.”

And then he takes off, a cheeky grin splitting his face as he keeps his eyes trained on his pursuers, slinking through the crowd and towards a nondescript door. An exit.

The strange men sift through the partygoers. Some shake their heads in fear, cowering; others shrug. You simply hope they do not approach you. And by some mad stroke of luck, when they’re a few feet away from you—they ignore you entirely.

Loki catches your eye by the small archway, and with a mischievous wink and a heartstopping smile, he disappears with a flash of his green cape.

You exhale, a little shakily, as one armored man shouts instructions and points to the door. They bolt after him, each footfall thunderous. A few seconds tick past, and once the clatter disappears completely the orchestra warms up again.

Back to normal. Just a little. But you—you’re still reeling from what just happened.

Leigh sidles up to you, poking your side.

“So,” she says, “who was the knight in shining armor, and what’d they want with him?”

His kiss, the feel of his mouth against yours, still tingles at your lips, lingering like the warmth of a fire. You stare at the open door, still trying to make sense of what on Earth just happened.

“I… I think I just met a prince.”

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (3/6)

Part 1 Part 2  (@geraskier-trashh  @negativenuggetz) 

*** 

“How is it?” Jaskier asks, “at sea?”

Geralt looks at him thoughtfully for a long moment. The silence is broken only by Ciri’s chattering on the phone with Yennefer outside the door.

“Empty,” Geralt answers finally, “Sometimes there’re some moments when life erupts at the surface.“ The tiniest of smiles lights up Geralt’s face. “Like when a group of whales shows up. Or something else is happening, like storms. Those can be fucking terrifying. Other than that it’s... nothing. A vast blue desert. It scares the shit out of you at the beginning but you get used to it. Over time land can become too much. You miss the calm.”

“You love it,” Jaskier remarks, entranced by Geralt’s quiet passion. It’s fascinating how a man as taciturn as Geralt can reveal the depth of his feeling through the minute shifts in his expression – the slightest upturn of his lips, the barely-there crinkling at the corners of his eyes. Jaskier wants to study all the little changes in Geralt’s face, decipher what they mean. He hasn’t been this intrigued in a long time.

“Hmm,” Geralt replies in assent and smiles a touch wider than before, “I once saw... a single bolt of lightning hit the water in the distance.”

Jaskier gasps as the image of it appears in his mind: both the sky and the water illuminated by the sudden flash. A violent shiver runs down his spine and the hum of inspiration starts coursing through him. Words pop up in his head that describe the scene and the emotional impact of it. Jaskier instinctively reaches for his phone to write it down but then firmly files the words away for later. He has guests he should focus on now.

Geralt and Ciri arrived two hours ago. The absolute shock Jaskier experienced when he saw Geralt – how muscular he is and how bloody well he looks in a black leather jacket (and black everything) – should qualify for therapy. Jaskier almost fucking choked on his tongue. Thank goodness that Ciri was there, so he focused his attention on her. The girl looks a lot like her father but carries herself with confidence which Jaskier assumes she got from her mother. She’s perceptive, asks questions and talks back. Jaskier adores her at once.

So far, Jaskier ordered everyone their favourite food and they ate it. Ciri bombarded him with questions about his music, the two of them also discussed their favourite music bands and singers. Geralt spoke little, only threw in some dry comments here and there, which always made Ciri laugh, and didn’t seem to mind when his daughter talked about him too.

Turns out Geralt is a commander. As Ciri recited, he can command a frigate, destroyer, submarine, mine countermeasures squadron, fishery protection squadron, patrol boat squadron, aviation squadron or shore installation, or may serve on a staff. It’s so hot. (Even if Jaskier has no idea what half of those words mean. Still. A fucking submarine? Jaskier’s a goner).

He promised Ciri that he would sing for her after they finished the meal but Yennefer called before he could fetch his guitar. The girl rushed out of the living room to talk to her mum, leaving Jaskier alone to fall prey to Geralt’s enthrallingly calm and restrained presence.

Now as he looks at Geralt, he can’t help but wonder what hides beneath the facade of his collected demeanour. Geralt must have numerous stories to tell. Jaskier wants to know them all.

“So, when are you sailing off again?” he asks.

“I’m... retiring soon.”

“Why?” Jaskier blinks, baffled.

Geralt swallows hard. “I’ve served for the Navy for seventeen years. Ten in total at sea.” The corners of his lips turn downward, a pained frown on his face. “I... haven’t been present enough for Ciri. Not nearly enough.”

For a fraction of a moment, Jaskier can see it all in Geralt’s expression: the pain of losing so much precious time with his daughter and missing out on so many crucial moments of her life, the sheer guilt of not being there, the torment of still choosing to do what you love even though it hurts the ones you love, the self-hatred of such selfishness.

Then, Geralt’s face becomes a blank mask. He reaches for a glass of water on the coffee table silently and doesn’t spare Jaskier a glance.

“I’m sure she understands,” Jaskier tries to reassure but immediately realises it was a wrong thing to say. Geralt fixes him with a gaze so burning and deadly that it reminds him of the surface of the sun that he’s seen in photos and videos.

It’s clear now that Geralt doesn’t have to do much to keep his authority as a commander – a look like that is enough to cower anyone. Anyone but Jaskier, perhaps. The thing with Jaskier is that fear... doesn’t come to him sometimes. He knows it should be there but it isn’t. Must be the reason why he’s been described as “feral” by many.

“You don’t –” Geralt begins.

“Okay, all done!” Ciri announces cheerfully as she enters the room and sits next to her father, breaking the tension in the room. “Mum wanted to speak with you,” she tells Jaskier, “She wanted to give you a shovel talk but I convinced her not to.”

“She would... do that?” Jaskier asks, not believing his ears, “but Geralt and I aren’t even together!”

Ciri only giggles.

“That’s why I’m single,” Geralt grumbles.

Ciri giggles harder. “Mum just likes being scary,” she says, “but she’s actually very soft.”

Jaskier frowns at her in disbelief. Intimidating the guy your ex-husband agreed to fake-date yesterday and soft don’t go together.

“Don’t ever tell her you know that, though,” Geralt advises almost playfully, “she’d make you forget.”

“I... I’ll go get my guitar,” Jaskier answers.  

After that, Jaskier is in his element. He plays and sings a few of his songs and some classics. Ciri joins him with her sweet voice, making everything even more joyful. All the while, Geralt’s sun-like eyes are on Jaskier, watching, assessing. Daring him to be just a little bit less subtle when he throws quick winks and wide smiles Geralt’s way so that it’d be blatant how Jaskier is actually flirting with him through singing. The almost-glowing gaze should be unnerving perhaps, but it only feels strangely familiar. Jaskier’s idiotic brain sees the opportunity to make it romantic and naturally seizes the chance, supplying the thoughts of how they could know each other from their past lives, or how their atoms could be birthed from the death of the same star, and other such poetic heart-ruining bullshit. Jaskier shoves them away eventually. He just wants the moment to last.

It doesn’t last, of course. Geralt and Ciri soon have to go.

Ciri leaves with the happiest grin, Jaskier’s autograph and a selfie with him, for which Geralt thanks him very nicely. Jaskier gets overtaken by the urge to have him stay and, when Geralt is walking out of the door after Ciri, he blurts out anything to stop him.

“Oh, Geralt!” he says, making Geralt turn back around and look at him expectantly. “Uh... Please don’t wear all black to the party. It’s not my father’s funeral.”

“Hmm.”

It’s a playful hmm and Jaskier later has to send a text that strictly forbids Geralt from wearing his suit. Jaskier has looked at the picture of him in the suit an embarrassing number of times in the past two days. He wouldn’t survive seeing that live.

TBC

Part 4

***

A/N: the Internet says the earliest you can retire form the RN is at the age of 55 but well, Geralt deserves a break. 

[purple-nana]

Barriers

Part 8 - Fluff, Crack

2.7k words   ( Part of the Dorm of us Series)

Warnings: Language

You stared at Jaemin in awe.

“Oh by the way, where’s the other boys?” He asked in confusion, “I bet they would crackle up if I had told them about this ehehehehe” He continues to chuckle in a rather, weird one though.

“Wait—I thought you guys went out?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Jaemin looks around then right back at you. “Well, you can clearly see that I’m right in front of you. In flesh y/n.” He explains as he shrugs his shoulders.

Your forehead furrows even further. “Sooo, what the hell have you been doing that you absolutely had no idea where the boys were when you went home earlier than me?” You ranted in confusion at him.

Jaemin giggles. “Calm down y/n, I fell asleep okay? Ya know it’s hard to look for someone when that person is really trying hard to not be seen.” He smirks, causing you to shut your mouth.

“Besides, it’s really not a big deal that they left us here. Unless,” His turn to raise his eyebrow at you now, “you’re still guilty of something.” He says, crossing his arms.

It wasn’t really a big deal for you anymore—okay fine, it was still a big deal for you that you came in contact with him and not only that, you were alone with him in that space.

That could only mean one thing, more interaction!

Your mind panicked. You need to get out, you need to escape from the possible outcomes that were unfolding in your head. Grabbing your bag, you immediately made your way to the door.

It doesn’t matter where the heck are you going to end up for the night, the club at a fraternity house? Or should you just crash into a friend’s place?

Jaemin grabs your wrist, stopping you as well as your thoughts.

“Stay Y/n please just stay.”

His soothing voice shook your whole being. You really wanted to go out and escape yet another chance for you to talk to him but now—it seems like there’s nothing you can do.

You let out a sigh and turned to Jaemin, who was ready to let go of your hand and hear your words of farewell, however.

You beamed a smile at him. “What should we do to kill time then?”

His lips immediately formed into a wide grin and that was enough for you to convince yourself that you’ve made the right choice. You’re going to accept this one for now, but you’re going to make sure that the boys will get the best beating of their lives yet. They must be having the time of their lives right now.

That made you curious though. Where are they?

Unwary to you and Jaemin’s knowledge cause the both of you were somehow convinced that the boys were having the time of their lives, clubbing, partying, or what the hecky heck they were supposed to do.

Cause your assumptions might have been wrong or let’s just say—it was completely wrong. Turns out, they were having the worst time of their lives.

They’ve made the river park their own personalized debate arena.

“Who’s idea was it in the first place huh?!” Renjun snarls at Haechan, “I was supposed to be studying right now you maniac!”

“Hey! I thought you wanted to see the two idiots together cause they were giving your non-existent ass a damn hard time?!”

Renjun gasps in disbelief and proceeded to look at his ‘non-existent ass’. “How dare you say that I don’t have a butt when yours is as flat as a pancake!”

So yeah, basically the two were doing their thing as usual except the only difference were—they are in public. Making it 1000000x more embarrassing.

Jeno on the other hand, has his lips puckered while sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, mindlessly playing his game on his phone. He was trying his best to ignore his companions as well as pretending to not know any of them, cause they were hella embarrassing

Thoughts such as ‘I regret my life rn’ ‘I wish I should’ve just stayed back home’ ‘I don’t know those guys’

Yeah, each one of them were regretting their life decisions, especially Jeno.

He doesn’t even know how is he going to go home peacefully at this point. He was a hundred percent sure about the events that were about to go down when they go back home.

 And it wasn’t going to be good.

So for the mean time, he’s just gonna enjoy the fresh air and play his games while pretending that the two boys who were just exactly 5 meters away from him were non-existent and silently hope for the best.

“Why was I friends with these psychopaths.” Jeno mutters to himself quietly. Which wasn’t really that quiet since someone might have picked up his words.

Renjun turns around to Jeno with angry eyes. “Ya! Lee Jeno! Who were you calling a psychopath huh? It better be this bitch here or else!” Renjun said that annoyed Haechan.

Haechan’s eyes widened.“You bastard! I’m going to fucking kill you!” 

“Not if I kill you first!”

Jeno just smiled to himself while shaking his head. “Kids.”

You thought the idea of staying with Jaemin would be fun. 

The both you could play games, watch movies, or even talk about you know—stuff. Maybe you made up your decision a little bit too fast? No, it would be fun. You haven’t really spent time with him since you avoided him.

Maybe this time, you could make up for the lost time. It wouldn’t be awkward right?

If you were sure that the both of you can spend leisure time together without being awkward then—you were completely wrong.

You stared into blank space as the terribly awkward atmosphere messes with your brain. Who would’ve thought that a happy question could lead to this situation right now?

Well, who were you kidding? Of course it would be awkward, why didn’t you thought of this sooner? You should’ve just went out.

You’re really going to kill the boys once they step foot inside of the building.

If it weren’t for those morons then you wouldn’t be sitting here staring into thin air for the past hour with Na Jaemin. Yes, you’ve been sitting for the last hour and now your butt is starting to hurt like hell. 

You’re also hungry af, you haven’t eaten anything except for those countless glasses of strawberry milk that you had at the cafe when you ran away earlier.

You just wish that your stomach wouldn’t betray you and make noises without—

“Ahm Y/n? Was that your stomach?” Jaemin asks after he heard a loud growl.

—asking for your permission. great.

“Ah hehehehe,” you giggle nervously, “yeah that was me. I haven’t eaten anything after school ended.” You smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head in bashfulness.

Jaemin chuckled loudly leaving you confused. “You should’ve told me then haha, come on I’ll cook us something.” He says while standing up.

“Oh really? You really don’t have to, I’m fine.” 

“Your stomach says otherwise Y/n.” He smirks at you which made you responded with a blank face. “Come on now~.” He convinces you while pulling your arm. You always wonder why he pulls your arm when he tries to convince you at something.

Well, it does work though.

You sat at the table while you for Jaemin to finish up cooking. Yeah you weren’t helping, you really wanted to cause it would be burdensome for him if he did all the work by himself.

But he insisted, saying that he was ‘the chef of the household’ and it was his responsibility to do the cooking. If you were being honest, that was a very ridiculous reason but nonetheless you accepted it.

You were too tired to create an argument and who wouldn’t want to just sit and do nothing right?

He worked in the kitchen for probably about 20 minutes, Jaemin decided to cook something easy and quick as you were probably tired and need to head to bed any time now.

How can he say so? It was evident that sleep was already at your doorstep when you kept on staring onto space for the past few hours now.

You snap out of your reverie when Jaemin placed a bowl of fried rice and fried eggs in front of you. The aroma of the food slowly made it’s way to your nostrils making your mouth water by it’s scent.

After you thank Jaemin you immediately begin to devour your bowl. After sometime, you tried taking another spoonful of the fried rice but instead you were met by a sad clinking sound of the bowl. 

“Uh? It’s gone already?” You ask your self as you took the bowl closer to your face to take a better look. Empty.

Jaemin snickers at you making you look at him in confusion which then he immediately stops. You gave him ‘the look’.

“What?”

“Why were you laughing at me~?” you ask in a annoyed tone.

“Why?” He chuckles looking at you from top to bottom then averting his gaze. “You were cute.”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you look away from him, avoiding his eyes in attempt to hide your flushed face. You stood up flustered and made your way to the sink to put away your dishes. 

Jaemin was confused when he saw you walking towards your bedroom. “Hey! Where are you going?” 

“I’m going to bed.” You responded quickly.

You were about to open the door to your bedroom when Jaemin grabbed your wrist. How many times have he stopped you today by grabbing your wrist?

“Can you stay for a little while longer? I want to talk to you about something.”

You turned to look at him. “There’s nothing for us to talk about Jaemin, and if this is about the other week then please, let’s just forget about that.” You pulled your wrist from him and continued to open your door.

“How can I forget about that when I haven’t even said what I wanted to tell you.” His words made you stop.

You look at him in the eye. “Jaemin please—” your words got cut off by him.

“Tell me, why did I decide to leave home so that I could be here?” 

“Because—” 

“Tell me y/n, why did I still made efforts knowing that you’d still run to Jeno in the end?”

“J-jaemin...”

He ran his fingertips through his brown strands. “Why do I feel jealous whenever a guy touches you even if we were just friends?” 

You were confused by his words, you never knew Jaemin felt that way about you.

Does this mean you were special to him?

That he treasures you? Or is it—

He grabbed your arm and embraced you tightly that caught you by surprise. “I love you y/n, I love you so much to the point that I had to pretend because I was afraid to lose you.” His words were genuine.

You were shocked and happy and dazed at the same time, you were already tired and then these new information started shaking your mind. You never knew but, what about Miri?

“I-i thought you still love her?” you asked softly.

“I didn’t y/n, I never did. I tried to forget about my feelings for you but I—can’t. I can’t bear to think that I would lose you y/n.”

“Why would you lose me?” 

“I was scared that if I told you the truth you’d be gone, forever. I was scared that I might ruin our friendship. So what you told me last week, it made me feel—ecstatic. From that moment on, I realized that I should stop pretending and do something. My feelings only get stronger and stronger each day.” Jaemin admits as tears fall from his eyes. 

You smiled and returned the hug. “You know? I was scared too Jaemin. But now, I’d be gladly to say that—I love you too.” you say as your heart beats uncontrollably in your chest.

You cannot see it but you were sure that Jaemin smiled widely as he embraced you closer to his. Everything was—perfect.

The both of you stayed in that position for quite a while, your chin was resting on Jaemin’s shoulder as he slowly caresses your back. Only stopping when he heard your soft snores.

He smiled to himself, you must have been really tired for you to pass out while standing. Jaemin slowly picked you up and opened your bedroom door. Which caused your eyes to snap open while muttering a soft ‘please don’t leave me’.

Jaemin then decided to take you to the couch. He sat on one end while you peacefully sleep on his lap.

He still couldn’t believe it. Who would’ve thought that the both of you will be in this position. With you in his arms as he slowly guides you to sleep.

Not as friends, but finally as lovers.

Haechan and Renjun quietly tiptoe their way to the dorm while silently wishing that you and Jaemin were already fast asleep cause if not, they’re going to get their butts whooped tonight.

On the other hand, Jeno was casually walking not giving a damn even if his shoes were producing clinking sounds across the tiled floor.

“YA! Lee Jeno! Would kindly make your foot shut up?” Renjun whisper-yells at him.

Jeno’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ahm no? Why would I? It’s not like my foot has a mouth so that I’d be able to make it shut up.” Jeno sarcastically replies to Renjun.

“Will the both of you shut up? I am about to open the fucking door and if y/n sees us then we’ll be fucking dead,” His eyes widened while running his finger across his neck to indicate that ‘they will be dead’.

That made the two shut up while Haechan cautiously open the door, praying that it wouldn’t make any sound to betray them. But much to their dismay, the opening of the door made a ‘creaking’ sound that would certainly wake anyone who wasn’t a heavy sleeper.

This caused the three of them to scrunch their faces in disappointment.

In addition to that, they were welcomed by a wide-eyed Jaemin who was noticeably waiting for them and that scared the living shit of their souls.

“WAH!” Haechan freaks out.

“WHAT WHAT WHAT!” Renjun follows.

“Took you two long enough.” Jeno said as he was the first person to notice your sleeping figure on Jaemin’s lap.

Jaemin just gave them a fake smile while hushing them to prevent you from waking up.

“Oh boi, I guess our plan worked!” Renjun glee cheerfully, giving Haechan a high five.

“So, you were the guys who planned this shit ei? Guess who’s gonna get a nice, lovely beating tomorrow.” Jaemin clicks his tongue while shaking his head.

“Ahehehehehe we’re sorry.” Haechan apologizes.

“We only planned this out cause I was fucking tired of seeing you both being in-denial. It was stressing me out.” Renjun complains, folding his arms together.

Jaemin just rolled his eyes and turned his gaze to Jeno, waiting for his explanation for his side of the story.

He immediately shakes his head. “Nuh uh, I wasn’t apart of this. These guys blackmailed me saying that they will destroy my computer if I didn’t tag along.” Jeno briefly explains.

Jaemin just rolled his eyes for the nth time. “Did you guys had fun? What did you do?” He asks.

Renjun and Haechan awkwardly laughs.

“Of c-course we had fun. We ate out tonight and—” Haechan reasons out.

“We ate pizza”

“We ate burgers.”

 Renjun and Haechan both said at the same time. Haechan gave Renjun the ‘stink eye’ telling him to shut up.

“Ah yes we ate burgers and pizza we also went bowling. Yeah we had fun hehehe.” Haechan awkwardly laughs.

Jaemin pursed his lips as he knew they were lying.

“Well, I didn’t know we went bowling and ate burgers? All I knew was there was apparently two boys bickering at the park as if it was their debating arena.” Jeno innocently says.

“Oh. okay. gotta blast.” Renjun says as he and Haechan ran for their rooms and immediately lock their doors.

Jaemin and Jeno laughed at the behaviors of the two.

Jeno turned to your sleeping figure and gave Jaemin a warm smile. “Take care of her huh? She’s been through so much.”

Jaemin returned the smile to Jeno. “I’d definitely will,” Jaemin looks at you and gave your fore head a gentle kiss.

“She means the world to me.”

Previous   Masterlist

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A/N: Again I’m sorry for the latee update, i’ll have more time now that school has been moved again. Wiee ty!

[dccomicsimagines]

Coming Out By Bleeding Out - Young Justice Imagine

Requested by Anon -  If you're comfortable with it, maybe something with the S1 team where FTM!reader gets hurt on a mission and when they take him to the med-bay to patch him up he refuses to take off his suit, and the team is freaking out bc *Y/N you're gonna bleed out--* when he finally takes it off they see he has top surgery scars and he tells them he didn't want them to find out he was trans because he'd had some bad experiences with coming out before and its just some good platonic hurt/comfort💞 thanks✨!!

Requested by Anon -  can you please write something with a trans!reader who is nervous about telling the team since people hadn't been accepting before? I'm kinda in a similar situation rn and your writing always cheers me up :)) also sorry if i made any grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language lol😂 thanks in advance!!!!❤❤ ❤❤

Author’s Note -  For the second Anon, if you wanted a story with a MTF!reader, please send in another request and I’ll do that for you. I just figured since both prompts had similar themes of coming out that I would combine them. 

***

“Stay awake, (Y/N),” Artemis ordered as she put pressure on your gunshot wound. You moaned, sleep pulling at you.

“I’ll try.” Pain seared through your body when Artemis pressed down harder. Black swarmed your vision. 

Kaldur came into your sight, taking over for Artemis. “We’re about five minutes out, (Y/N). Stay awake.” 

“I think I might hurl,” Wally exclaimed when he got a peek at the blood soaked bandage. 

“Shut up, baywatch.” Artemis smacked him away. “You have no room to comment when (Y/N) took the shot for you.” 

“That wasn’t me! Rob was the one that was about to be shot,” Wally protested, moving away.

“Who cares?” You moaned, closing your eyes. There was a hard tap on your cheek. You forced your eyes open to see Conner glaring down at you.

“Stay awake.” He snorted.

You hummed. Pain rocked through you again. “We’re almost there,” M’gann shouted.

Everything blurred together. You felt yourself being moved. Pain shot through your body. You heard Kaldur explaining the situation to Red Tornado. 

You were laid down. Your heart skipped a beat when you felt someone start to pull up your shirt. “No!” Your hands gripped the edge of your shirt, keeping it down. Fear made your blood run cold. You saw the rest of the team was still in the room with Red Tornado standing over you. 

“(Y/N), I must take your shirt off to see the wound,” Red Tornado explained. 

“No, no, no.” The pain disappeared as you kept a tight grip on your shirt. 

“(Y/N), you are bleeding out, we have to take your shirt off,” Kaldur soothed, coming to your side. 

“It will be fine.” Red Tornado attempted to take off your shirt again, but your grip was too strong. “(Y/N), your resistance will only cause you to lose more blood.” 

You shook your head. The fear made you more aware. They didn’t have to worry about you falling asleep anymore. “No, leave me alone!”

“Take the shirt off, (Y/N)!” Conner snapped, tired of it. M’gann touched his arm.

“(Y/N), why are you scared?” M’gann asked, frowning. You felt her reading your mind. The horror of the team finding out this way chilled you to the bone. You weren’t ready to come out to the team. They would reject you like how you were rejected before. 

More blood gushed from your wound. You felt lightheaded. “No, don’t.” You collapsed back into the bed. All you saw was black.

***

You woke up to bright lights. Panic filled you as the memory came back. You reached to touch your chest, relieved to find you were wearing a shirt. However, the horror set in when you realized it was a different shirt. They had taken off your shirt.

“(Y/N), you’re awake,” Dick said, perking up from the chair beside you. You flinched, staring at him in horror. “Woah, hey you’re fine.” 

Your mouth went dry, terrified out of your mind. You didn’t want to be kicked off the team. They were your friends. You couldn’t stand the idea of them throwing you out. 

Dick held up his hands. “Hey, you’re fine, (Y/N). You lost a lot of blood and you’ll have to heal, but there’s no permanent damage.” 

You covered your face with your hands, wincing when the IV pulled slightly at your movement. Dick eyed you before leaving the room. You couldn’t move your hands away from your face even after you heard the others filing in. 

“(Y/N), my dude,” Wally said with a bright smile on his face. “I’m so glad you’re awake. We thought we lost you, man.” He plopped down beside you, making himself comfortable. You stared at him in shock.

“You scared us to death,” Artemis added, slapping Wally’s arm. “Give (Y/N) space, baywatch. He doesn’t need you crowding him out of his own bed.” 

“(Y/N) doesn’t mind. We’re buds.” Wally nudged you with his elbow, giving you a smirk. You were still staring at him with wide eyes. None of this was making sense.

Swallowing hard, you were able to wet your throat. “You don’t care?” 

Wally and Artemis looked confused. “What do you mean we don’t care? Of course, we care. Why else would we save you?” Conner said, frowning.

You snorted at the irony that you would have to bring this up. “About my scars?” 

“Of course, we care,” Kaldur said calmly. “You are our friend.” 

You blinked in disbelief. This wasn’t what you expected. “You mean it doesn’t bother any of you that I’m trans?” You looked around at everyone, meeting each of their gazes.

Dick shrugged. “No, I mean you’re a cool guy that took a bullet for me and Wally. Can’t complain about that. I’m whelmed.” He laughed his signature creepy laugh. Your heart soared. A smile pulled at your lips.

 M’gann gave you a bright smile. “You’re our friend, and I think I speak for everyone when I say this changes nothing.” 

“Yeah, doesn’t change a thing,” Wally said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

Artemis snorted. “Yeah, like we didn’t have to explain what top surgery was.” She slapped Wally’s head. Wally whined.

“Sorry that I don’t know everything.” Wally glared at her, but turned back to you a moment later. “But I’m willing to learn what I need to know.” You turned away, tears in your eyes. “Hey, don’t cry. You’ll make Artemis cry.” 

Artemis snorted. You ran a hand over your face, getting control of yourself. “I just expected you guys to hate me,” you explained. “When I came out before, everyone treated it like a joke. No one would use my correct pronouns and don’t get me started on the bathroom...” A sob escaped you.

Kaldur came up to pat your leg while Wally hugged you. M’gann joined the hug a moment later. “We respect you, (Y/N),” Kaldur said quietly.

“Thank you.” You sniffled, trying to stop yourself. 

“But if you refuse to take your shirt off again when you’re bleeding out, we’ll kill you,” Dick said. The mood lightened. You laughed along with everyone else. The relief rushed through you and you realized the best friends you had ever had were the ones standing around you. 

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#5)

S3 e3: Trust Your Gut. From what I remember this is a big one. I just remember this episode title honestly but we’ll see what happens.

-look at that! ava’s just casually in this scene, minding her own business, doing her job! you would never guess that this is a character who would later have a psychotic break and commit suicide.

-that’s really the point i’m trying to make. I hate all those posts where they’re like ‘i hated ava before, but season 4 has finally shown her true colors’ like not even?? no??? we’re trying to prove that that was never even a thing. i want to eliminate the possibility of s4 happening from your minds. nothing from s3 should ever be used as foreshadowing. that’s what the rewrite is about, ava being a good character. ava was never going to commit suicide. she was never gonna go psychotic. that should be ingrained in everyone’s minds.

-anyways, back to the episode.

-connor takes everything like a personal attack. relax

- i never realized how fun stoll was. like obviously not in the story but as a character he’s hilarious. unattached by everyone else’s drama

-awww. this maggie interaction is amazing. tapping sarah on the shoulder (neck actually but whatever) just to say hi. adorable. and sarah is already super jumpy. come on. her anxiety is already setting in. they really gave sarah two huge storylines in the same season.

-maggie... no one else would ever slash sarah’s tires. i mean honestly

-WHY DOES CONNOR HAVE TO CONTROL OF EVERYTHING - honestly ava was just reading off the chart and he can’t even let her do that he has to take over just to say the same things.

-and the way ava just takes it with her smug smile

-she is such a strong character there is no reason she would have gone crazy over connor she literally needs nothing from him.he has not ever had anything that she needed. 

- SHE’S JUST ROLLING HER EYES, SMIRKING, AND SHAKING HER HEAD AT THIS INSECURE MAN ava I love you.

-okay there’s no way i can explain it but after rolling her eyes at connor Ava turns and looks at the patient and instantly her face changes and you can see such pure concern in her eyes?? s4 ava could never (can someone please rb with a picture of what i’m talking about? it’s uncanny and so so sincere.)

- she’s in control of her emotions. she cares so much for her patients so don’t even try to play that card. the only thing connor has done literally since she got here is get in her way.

-AND CONNOR LOOKS AT HER WITH SUCH DISTRUST AND CONTEMPT. TELL ME HOW. this is insane. exasperating.

-and the way she smiles and comforts the patient. i mean come on. she’s just so amazing. AND COMFORTING. if ava really was as heartless as people say, she wouldn’t take the effort to do that. connor didn’t even do that, he just scowls at ava.

-which just proves my point, ava is only ever mean to people who she thinks deserve it. and, the more that I think about it, she’s never really actually mean. sure, she’s blunt and rude, but never cutting. she’s nice to her patients (and I know what you’re going to say, it’s not because she has to be. she’s a doctor, she still wants to help people). but when her patients are dicks, she’s not nice to them. she’s as snarky with as she’s professionally allowed to be.

-like, take this guy. he seems nice enough. he’s funny, polite, comes across charming, so ava is nice and is polite back to him.

-let’s move on.

-why is connor always so suspicious of ava. come on. he’s the one who should be sus. she literally said ‘Don’t worry, Ray, we’ll take good care of you’ and he’s giving her this weird side eye.

-ethan and will being in this board meeting is really adorable to me. like, just, bros.

-oh godddd sarah please relax. sweetie. please.

-sarah fucking tranqed him oh my god

-oh my god noah asking people for help literally shut the fuck up

-straight people are gross. not to hate but how does anyone sit through manstead

-connor literally needs to chill. I know this bit (they’re arguing over menial things in surgery) plays more to them just picking on each other, pulling each other’s pigtails on the playground if you will (i didn’t like that analogy but I used it anyway), but if you look at it, ava was only trying to help connor (suggesting a wider possible target and an easier to handle stitch) and connor took it wayyy to personally. sure the second bit of advise is just poking at him, but she suggested a better spot on the base and he shut her down without any thought.

-and then latham points out that there is no point in arguing, to which ava defers, then connor snidely says ‘Thank you, Doctor, Now, how about from here on out we keep the background noise to a minimum’ and ava just shakes her head, scoffing.

-at this point ava just likes annoying connor because its fun. it’s entertaining. he gets so upset. everyone’s done that, just be annoying for fun (its bad to say but i mean come on everyones done it)

-another point, ava immediately deferring to latham might read to some as her being a suck up but that’s not what it is.

-ava really likes seeing how close to the line she can get. she goes right up to it, but she never crosses it. the same is true with her interactions with other people outside of surgery.

-I really like this story of the girl who passed out and hit her head, and her brother’s a wreck, and her parents obviously think the brother’s a disappointment. and it was finals week so of course she wasn’t taking care of herself. and the brother knew that, and you can tell he cares so much and feels so bad. it’s nice

-complication on the surgery they were working on. ava comes in with a solution (off of connor’s mistake during surgery after not following her advice) but I have a sneaking suspicion that by the end connor will be back on top

-the effort it took connor to say ‘it’s a good idea’ come on man just fucking let it go

-i’m glad we’ve all agreed that connor’s just a dick

-aw look at that she even held the door for him. connor would never

-i don’t want to overly push the ‘med is sexist’ thing but how is it that in a storyline between nat and ethan, characters who have never been romantically involved, they still pull the woman thinks one thing, man refuses to believe it and is right dynamic. i mean come on med seriously. what the fuck is wrong with you.

-the look of annoyance and disbelief on ava’s face that connor hadn’t actually messed up. comedic, but also i get your pain.

-glad that latham sides with ava, ava advocating for a riskier procedure so they could ensure the blockage is removed)

-(something could be said about ava’s high-risk, high-reward ideals. you could even draw the parallel to events in s4 and s5, even though I really don’t want to. it’s an interesting and notable character trait to say the least)

-YOOOO I FORGOT HOW METAL THE PSYCH STORY GETS

-dude straight up cuts his abdomen open and his intestines spill out

-the fear and shock and emotion on sarah’s face make me feel so bad for her

-WAIT IS THIS THE EPISODE WHERE SHE LOSES THE END OF THE INSTRUMENT? IS THAT WHAT THIS IS? i am not prepared to watch an ava bekker breakdown rn.

-the shock on ava’s face when connor said nice job.

-ava actually tried to apologize to connor. well, not apologize but she feels a little bit bad for just how abrasive she’s been to connor. (connor didn’t necessarily have to make it super competitive). Ava said “Look, I know i have the tendency to step on toes. it’s nothing personal”

-and now they’re not arguing and are this close to actually working like a team

-and i cannot believe connor’s big one-liner is ‘Murphy’s law’

-the emotion on april’s face when the girl’s parents won’t even let her brother grieve for her. I feel it. astounding. its so painful omg

-ava: “your optimism is enchanting.” when i was writing earlier I was worried I wasn’t being accurate with her dialogue and making it sound too overly formal but i guess I nailed it. also, this line reinforces how much I love her (so does every other line)

-connor just refusing to give ava anything, no credit, no nothing. doesn’t even give her credit for earning the surgery saying “you may have elbowed your way onto the case, but he is still my patient” (I JUST TRANSITIONED INTO A QUOTE SO SMOOTHLY WHY CANT I DO THAT IN MY LANG RHETORICAL ANALYSIS ESSAYS YOU’RE KIDDING)

-hey it’s joey!

- i can appreciate him so much more when he’s not chasing after reese

-do you remember their first meeting? bickering over who gets the last splenda? (real meet cute amirite)

-dr. charles remarking how all the scientific advances can’t beat human instinct, nice little tie in to the episode title

-ava just smiling while connor waits for her to apologize. she. takes. no. shit.

-i literally hate connor’s face so much. it fucking looks predatory like stop looking at her like that. it’s almost like you were planning her psychotic break

-ava’s cunning, saying ‘we’ instead of ‘i’ when talking about the decisions being made. she’s smart. she knows what to do. She knows how to present herself. (and yeah, a little hypocritical that she said to connor ‘when you fail, I will make sure that it is noted that it was your fault and not mine,’ but like I said, she just knows how to present herself)

-latham: “Dr. Bekker seems to enjoy this discordance.”

-rhodes’ face when changing his mind and saying ‘maybe I do’ when asked if he enjoyed it too - he literally makes the dumbest faces. please. stop. (is it a straight people thing?)

Alright. Another episode down. 17 to go. This was actually a pretty good episode all around. Ava took none of connor’s shit and you’d have to squint to find any sort of romantic subtext in their interactions, which is huge win in my book. reese’s storyline wasn’t too bad, she didn’t go through too much trauma, which, the bar for watching med is incredibly low i guess. This was a really good episode for ava. like I said before, very little romantic subtext, and she had a redeeming quality in the way she obviously cared for her patient at the beginning of the episode.

The main point is something I’ve been reiterating again and again. Ava cares about her patients. Ava is mean to connor because she knows someone needs to put him in his place, and she is glad that it is her.

All in all, this was a pretty good Ava episode. Very happy.

thanks for sticking with it.

-

read the rest here:

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Extra