#these are for class and i hate both of them

[wordsarelife]

—style

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco and you always come back to each other, sneaking around in secret, unable to let go, even though it’s getting harder to hide and maybe you're not willing to keep the secret any longer

warnings: slight angst but ends in fluff, height difference mentioned

your back was leaning against the castle's wall, arms crossed, you quirked a brow at the boy across from you. he was spotting a similiar expression, his arms crossed like you and face in a deep frown, unmoving as you nodded for him to talk.

"i'm not gonna apologize first" you shrugged, deciding to have it like this if he wanted to be difficult.

"well, me neither" he spat, voice venomous as he looked at you unimpressed, your threat not having the least bit of effect on him. "i wouldn't even know what for"

"you were the one that came back, draco" you reminded. "we agreed that whoever came back first had to apologize"

"well, i'm not doing that"

"then i'm not kissing you" you shrugged, turning your body as if to leave, before his hand grabbed your shoulder, turning you back around in a swift motion.

before you could protest or say anything else about his sudden action, his lips were on yours, pulling you in through the feeling that evaporated in your body.

you moaned into his mouth, not even caring that he didn't apologize, as he pressed you against the wall.

draco and you came from completely different worlds. he was a proud slytherin, someone that valued social standing and reputation above everything else.

you were a gryffindor, hanging along the golden trio most of the time, but basically being friends with everyone, no matter who they were or from which family they came. you didn't mind as long as you liked them.

draco and you had hated each other from the first encounter on. arrogant as he was, he had introduced himself to harry, muttering something about the wrong kind of people (eyeing ron and you) he had chosen to spend his time with.

you rivalry reached it's peak during third year when hermione had hit him and you had caught him days later as he was trying to throw something into her cauldron during potions class. you had slapped his hand back, resulting in him breathing in whatever he had held in there and spending a week in the infirmary, throwing up hours on end.

you gained two weeks of detention from snape, but quickly decided it was worth it, considering you had saved your friend from an even worse fate.

but the real change of your relationship had begun during fourth year. you had noticed that he grew into his looks and you couldn't believe it, but his cockiness actually attracted you.

draco continued making no secret of disliking you and your friends, but you noticed his eyes linger on you longer than they had before.

it had been a week of constant fighting, hormones high and upcoming exams stressing the both of you, where one thing had led to another and you found yourselves in shared detention with professor mcgonagall who punished you to sort through and clean her classroom.

"this is all your fault" draco muttered, cloth in hand as he rubbed it along the table, that picked the water up quickly.

"sure" you nodded with a role of your eyes. the row of goblets in front of you, used for the first year classes, turning out to be a particular hard thing to clean. "as if you didn't start the fight"

"i merely concluded obvious information"

"pff" you made, sending him a glare across the room. "that's not what i would call it"

"let's hear it then, genius"

"i'd call it an uneven distribution of arrogance and stupidity" you smiled smugly as you set down another goblet in front of you.

"you take that back!" draco let go off the cloth in his hand and dashed across the room, pushing his hands to his hips and looking down on you as if to try and dare you to say more.

"no" you shook your head, rising up from your chair so you were on an even level with him.

"one last chance, l/n"

"or what? you will send daddy to straigthen me out?" you puffed air out between your lips, not even caring about his answer. "you've been using the same empty threats for years, malfoy, it's honestly gotten boring at this point."

his eyes widened, switching to collect the glimmer of your lips as a memory and before he could properly think of what he was doing, he had closed the space between you, kissing you softly.

it had taken exactly ten seconds for both of you to realize what had happened, quickly breaking apart.

"you just kissed me!" you muttered stunned, pointing an accusing finger in his direction.

"you kissed me" he shook his head, just as shocked as you, as he tried to remember what had happened exactly.

"no" you corrected firmly. "i'm not taking the blame for this mess. this is solely on you"

"you kissed back though" he concluded, with a final nod. "don't ever do that again"

"well, okay?" you shrugged "i won't as long as you don't ever kiss me again"

the tension between you was palpable, as you kept holding eye contact, no one of you moving as both of you tried to find out what the kiss would mean for your relationship, or more so lack of, moving forward.

it had been a sudden decision, maybe because you had spent all your years at school trying to one up draco malfoy, but you didn't think twice, before you pushed your mouth against his once more.

this time the kiss lasted longer and both of you had to catch your breath.

"i thought i told you to never do that again"

you nodded, before you smirked, "you said i should never kiss you back"

"yeah" he nodded, admitting that you hadn't done anything he had forbidden. "and you said i should never kiss you again"

"never is such a harsh word" you shrugged and just half a second later you were kissing once more, your hands gliding into his neck as you pressed him closer.

what began that day in the classroom accompanied you through the school years that followed. you and draco would put on a facade in front of your friends and pretend like you still couldn't stand each other, which was, to be honest, not even far from the truth considering he still constantly annoyed you. all while you would meet in secret, sneaking around the castle and hooking up with each other behind everyone's back.

apart from sleeping with each other not much changed between you. you never declared what you did to be a relationship, although both of you never met other people.

draco was the one constant through your teenage years. sometimes you would go longer without the other, but you would always come back, like a drug you couldn't stop taking even if it had the potential to destroy you in the end.

draco ended the kiss, pressing his forehead against your own. "sorry" he muttered and you furrowed your brows in surprise.

he had never apologised before, even if that was your rule. he would always suck up for a while, until you finally accepted that he was somewhat sorry, without actually saying it.

"hmm" you hummed, pressing one more kiss against his mouth, before you broke away and grabbed your bag off the floor. "we've got herbology"

draco nodded and turned around, picking up his own bag. "i'll go around the courtyard, you'll go now"

"sure" he softly grabbed your neck with his hand, bringing you close again and kissing you, more passionately than the moment allowed. you were way too flustered when he let go off you, but he just nodded for you to go. so you did.

you kept thinking about him for the rest of the day. through the whole herbology class, most of potions class and even charms, which was you favorite subject.

it hadn't been yesterday when you realized that you maybe didn't still find him as annoying as you did back when you were children. that you had maybe even grown fond of him a little, or whatever it was that you had.

and there was a stupid part of you that longed for more. for more of whatever it was.

what you had enjoyed at first, was now the part you hated most about your little arrangement. sneaking around, lying to your friends and always keeping something from them, while they viewed you as family, as someone they knew everything about.

you just wanted them to know and maybe you also wanted to know if he would stay. stay at the possibility of people finding out about you.

all that went through your head until the next day. and realistically you knew he wasn't what you wanted him to be. you knew draco well enough. he would never agree to go public, much less to even be in a relationship with you.

so it was pretty clear what you had to do.

you knew that it was the right decision in the long run. for both of you.

you met in the same hallway. you were leaning against the wall when he arrived, a distant smile on his face, that only really broke out when his eyes fell on you.

"hey" he muttered. you let him kiss you, before he stepped back, leaning across from you.

"hi" you said, testing the waters. he furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

"what is it?" he asked unimpressed. he was used to you berating him for something he had said or done the day before. most often it was something regarding your friends and even though he never admitted it, you noticed his behaviour change, when you had been angry about something.

"nothing" you averted your eyes. you could hear him step forward, on edge, not used to the sadness in your voice.

times you had been apart came normally right after you had fought with each other. always screaming loudly, having found something to be annoyed about, before you decided not to see each other anymore, until one of you eventually came back.

"tell me" draco urged, the calmness in his voice long gone. "did something happen?" normally you would have made fun of him for his unusual care, but now you even felt sorry about it.

"i don't think we should continue to see each other" you shrugged, acting as if you didn't even care.

draco laughed, or rather puffed out air through his nose, before he shook his head. "i told you i was sorry"

"it's not about that"

"then what?" he stepped even closer. "something with you friends? i didn't even really see them yesterday"

"that's not it, draco"

there were a few seconds of silence, before he sighed loudly. "is it a guy?"

"no"

"okay, so you're just doing this? for what?" he threw his arms up, like he couldn't understand anything anymore. "you'll come back anyway"

you didn't answer anything, staring at him blankly, not having the strength to even say it out loud. without you wanting him to, he caught the uncertainty in your eyes.

"..you'll come back" he repeated, voice low. "right?"

"draco" you sighed, not knowing what to tell him.

"no, don't be like that" he shook his head and you saw that he was trying hard not to show you how much he cared. "don't act like you have to console me, don't act like you're breaking up with me"

"i'm not" you nodded. "but i'm not coming back either"

he pushed his hands into the pockets of his trousers, not even looking at you when you picked up your bag. you tried to catch his eyes, but it was to no avail. so you just walked away, not even knowing if you felt relieved or sad at the predicament that he would never be coming close to you again.

you walked through the halls of the castle and opened the door to the courtyard. the weather had turned rainy, thick clouds hanging over the towers of the castle, hiding them in the white air. the rain hit the ground mercilessly and you realized too late that it had been a stupid idea to walk across.

"you can't just do that" the voice behind you was so sudden and loud that your bag almost hit the wet ground beneath you.

draco caught up with you quickly, not caring about the rain one bit.

"what?" you asked, continuing your quick walk through the yard. but admittedly it was to no use, considering that you were already wet to the bones.

draco grabbed your shoulder, making you halt in your step and turn to look at him. "you can't just decide that" he said "it's not your decision to make"

"it's not yours either"

"why are you like that?" he ignored your previous answer. "i thought you liked this"

"i did" you nodded, seeing no reason to lie. "until i didn't"

"what does that even mean?" draco pushed his wet hair back annoyed. he wasn't able to understand you and scarily enough, that was the first time in years he failed to read what was going on with you.

"that means that we have to stop seeing each other"

"but why?"

you ignored him, moving your arm so he lost his grip on you, walking further through the wet garden. draco followed you.

"why?" he repeated, "what do you want me to do?"

"nothing, draco, it's fine"

"if this is some psychological trick, i swear to god"

"it's not, draco" your voice became louder, trying to drain out the rain that muffled it. "just forget about me"

"what if i can't?" he had stopped moving, staring at you blankly when you turned around. you had never seen him like this. so vulnerable, so honest.

"it didn't even matter" you simply said, "it was nice for a while, but it's over now"

"so you just decided that?"

"yes"

"but it wasn't just nice" he came closer, his face painfully twisted, as if to try and see your reaction to it. to get something from you. to see if it really didn't matter. "it was different. it wasn't just something"

"then what was it?" you pushed him to say more, to hear what you needed to for so long. "tell me why it was different? i thought you hated me"

"i did everything but that" he muttered and you had a hard time understanding him.

"why did you never say that before?" you asked, stray tears mixing with the rain on your face. "why are you so desperately trying to convince me of something you would've denied if i had asked you before? why didn't it matter before? why didn't you say something sooner?" your voice evolved into a scream, begging him to answer.

"why do you think i always came back?" he matched the loudness of your voice, anger blending with desperation as his blue eyes crashed into yours.

"why do you think i did?"

"i thought you knew" he shook his head, not understanding how it had come so far he had to explain it to you. "i thought i made it clear"

"thought you made what clear?" you asked, your voice louder than his, as he had grown more quiet. "that you didn't hate me? tolerated me even? that you—“

"that i fucking love you" his scream made you shut up immediately, eyes wide as you stared at him. "and maybe i should've actually said that or maybe i'm not what you want anymore—"

"what did you think would happen? did you think i would just accept it? not knowing how you really feel?"

"no" he shook his head "but i had hoped you would stay until i finally gathered up the courage to say it"

"how long?"

he sighed, looking annoyingly sweet as raindrops fell down from his hair and onto his cheeks. he looked like he was crying in an artful way. beautiful even, you thought, as you kept your eyes on his face like your life depended on it.

"mcgonagalls detention in fourth year"

"you couldn't have possibly loved me back then"

"maybe i didn't" he shrugged "but it was the first time i felt like this, when you kissed me"

"you kissed me" you corrected, but unable to stop the smile from breaking out.

"well, what do you say?"

"you want to hear it back?" you asked.

"preferably yes, but for now a sorry would do"

"for now, a hot shower would do" you rolled your eyes. "alone"

"and after that?" his voice lost a bit of it's cockiness, returning back to the insecurity it had held a few minutes before, "what then?"

you pressed his lips against his and he took the kiss with surprise, before he reciprocated it.

you pulled back, looking up at him, drenched from head to toe, but absolutely beautiful in his eyes.

"i'll come back"

[gotham--fc]

Rivals - A Jessie Fleming Imagine

Request: Jessie and R both play at UCLA but R plays for the US national team and the media invents a rivalry between them, both Jessie and R get annoyed at being constantly asked about their 'rivalry', they both talk to each other about it and confess their feelings

A/N: I will probably even less active than I am now (if that's possible) I just started school again and I'm very stressed and booked n busy

“So Jessie,” The reporter began. Jessie looked over to where she heard him speak. “You’re about to start at UCLA after these Olympics, and I’m sure you know, but American player Y/N Y/L/N committed to UCLA as well. Do you think your rivalry with her will effect team dynamics at UCLA?”

Jessie really hated media. She was an introvert at heart and if she had it her way, the media wouldn’t be allowed with 500 feet of the team after a game. They weren’t even scheduled to play the US this tournament unless they both made the finals. Still, all they want to ask is about Jessie’s ‘rivalry’ with Y/N. Jessie doesn’t have a rivalry with anyone, and she hasn’t met Y/N off the field even once. They don’t even really interact on the field when they do play, so Jessie has no idea where the ‘rivalry’ theory came from. Except that they’re both the youngest members of their teams, the same age, both midfielders.

“I don’t think that’s going to effect the team at all,” Jessie says, “I have nothing but respect for her as a player and I think she’s a really strong midfielder and she’s very skilled, so I’m confident that we’re both going to play important roles at UCLA and I’m just excited to get started.”

“You might end up facing the US in the finals, the US obviously are the reigning gold medalists, is that something you and the team are thinking about?”

“Not really,” Jessie said honestly, “That’s not our focus right now because nothing is guaranteed, so our focus right now is on our next game. We put ourselves in a good spot coming out of the group stage, uh, in first place, so we’re just focused on the quarterfinal games.”

***

“Y/N, your focus is obviously on winning gold, but can I ask how you’re feeling about joining UCLA this fall?”

“Yeah,” Y/N says, “I’m thrilled to be joining UCLA and I’m excited to further my development as a player and hopefully help the team win a championship.”

Y/N doesn’t really understand why they always ask her to do media. She doesn’t believe anyone really wants to hear from her over some of the vets. But still, here she is, trying not to pull her hair out at these stupid questions.

“Jessie Fleming is also joining UCLA this year, have you spoken to her at all? We know you two have a sort of on field rivalry, have you spoken to her about the both of you joining UCLA?”

“No, we’ve never really crossed paths outside the field, so I haven’t spoken to her. She’s a great player, though, and I think she’ll be an important part of the team at UCLA.”

***

A lot of the players at UCLA are roommates. Even the freshman in their dorms tend to get paired up with someone from the team.  Jessie ends up rooming with Teagan Micah, a keeper from Australia. Jessie likes her, she’s funny, and she’s pretty outgoing, so she drags Jessie along to frosh week activities and Jessie knows if she was left alone she would’ve spent the entirety of her first weeks at school either in class, at practice, or at home.

They have their first practice pretty soon after they move in, since the season starts up right away. The first practice is mostly getting to know each other and the coaches and the style of play they want. It’s different than how Canada plays, so it takes Jessie a second to adjust.

After practice, one of the senior girls calls the team over. She invites everyone to a team bonding night at her place that night.

Jessie gets ready in her dorm with Teagan. Jessie wants to leave so they’ll arrive a bit early, but Teagan just laughs at her, and tells her if a party starts at 8pm, people won’t arrive until 9pm. Jessie wants to say it’s not a party, it’s just for the team to get to know each other, but she doesn’t.

Turns out, it’s a party.

Not only is the soccer team there, but so is the basketball team, the football team, teams that Jessie can’t recognize. She stays near Teagan most of the night, not feeling the most comfortable with the loud music, the drinking, the number of people crammed in a tiny living room. Jessie loses track of Teagan after someone bumps into her, then someone steps in between her and Teagan. Instead of continuing to struggle through people to find Teagan, Jessie goes into the kitchen which is mercifully less full.

Jessie grabs a clean cup and fills it with water from the sink. She hears a commotion and turns, seeing Y/N with a small group enter the kitchen. They make eye contact, and Jessie waves. Y/N nods in acknowledgement. The group begins yelling about shots, and Jessie takes that as her cue to leave. She tries to find Teagan, but it’s impossible, and instead she finds Hallie Mace.

“Hallie!” Jessie yells over the music, “Can you tell Teagan I left? In case she wonders where I went?”

“Yeah, sure Jessie,” Hallie says, “Are you having fun?”

Jessie smiles and nods, and she knows it looks forced, but it satisfies Hallie, who Jessie figures is a little tipsy.

Jessie makes her way outside and walks home, the cool air a relief after how hot it was inside.

Jessie is asleep by the time Teagan comes home, and either Teagan was really quiet, or Jessie was really asleep, because Jessie didn’t hear her come in. The only sign that Teagan did come home is Teagan sleeping in her bed in the clothes she wore last night, hair sticking up in all directions. Jessie sets some Gatorade and Advil on the nightstand for her before she leaves for class.

***

It’s not that Y/N is intentionally avoiding Jessie.

There is truly no bad blood or actual rivalry or whatever people want to believe. It’s just that there’s not much overlap between them except on the field. They’re not in the same program, so they don’t share classes together, they don’t really share the same friends, outside the team. Y/N is friends with the people in her class, other student athletes, and Jessie is friends with people from her classes, and the soccer team. Y/N doesn’t even really notice it, until the online comments start.

It starts with a clip from one of their games. Jessie and Y/N were both on the bench, after being subbed out, and Jessie sat after grabbing water and her pinny, and Y/N stayed standing.

omg they haaate each other

they won’t even sit together its so over

LMAO Y/N really can’t stand Canadians there’s miles of space on that bench to sit and she STANDS???

Y/N frowns when she sees it. It wasn’t intentional, she wasn’t not sitting because she didn’t want to sit with Jessie. She prefers standing for a bit after she’s subbed out. It’s a mini cool down, and she likes bringing her heartrate down before she sits and fully relaxes.

Then it’s the clip from the Olympics, when Y/N said she doesn’t talk to Jessie. All Y/N meant by that is that they hadn’t crossed paths, through no fault of theirs, it’s just how things happened. Of course, everyone decided she meant that she refuses to talk to Jessie.

There’s rumours on campus about a bad fight the two had, about how they played against each other with their national teams and after they got into it off the field. Another lie, because they’ve truly never encountered each other after a game. Still, some of Y/N’s new friends ask her about it, ask her what Jessie did, what really went down. Y/N tells them the same thing each time, nothing happened, there’s no hatred or rivalry, they’re simply two people whose lives don’t really overlap and that’s all there is.

***

USA and Canada don’t even play each other at the next FIFA window. The US plays in the SheBelieves Cup and Canada plays in the Algarve Cup. All Jessie wants to do is focus on the games. She can’t, however, because the first media appearance she does, the first question is about Y/N.

“She’s a great player,” Jessie says, “She brings a lot to the team and I’m happy that for most of the time she’s on my team and not playing against me.”

It doesn’t help that her teammates bother her about it too.

“How is it really?” Janine asks, “Does the team have to build a barrier between you guys?”

“Janine,” Jessie sighs, “We don’t hate each other. We’re literally normal teammates.”

“Oh, come on, you won’t even tell me the juicy details?” Janine whines, “I’m your best friend!”

“Beckie, leave her alone,” Sophie Schmidt says. Jessie almost thanks Sophie, then Sophie keeps talking. “Jessie doesn’t want to spend her rare time away from her enemy thinking about her.”

“She’s not my enemy!” Jessie snaps, “You guys suck.”

***

“Sooooo…” Kelley slides in next to Y/N at the lunch table. “How are things at school?”

“Good?” Y/N says, “Why?”

“I’m just wondering!” Kelley says, “I want to make sure you’re handling things, you know, balancing school with soccer, all those things.”

“Yeah, it’s good. I’m good.”

“Aaand the team is good?”

“Why are you being so weird?” Y/N says.

“I’m not! Alex, am I being weird?” Kelley yells over at Alex across the room.

“You usually are,” Alex comes over and joins them at the table, “What are you being weird about now Kel?”

“I’m just asking her how school is!” Kelley insists. Alex rolls her eyes.

“Kelley wants to ask how Jessie Fleming is, but she’s trying to be subtle about it.”

“Alex!”

“Jessie is fine,” Y/N interrupts before the two can start bickering.

“Do you guys get along?” Kelley asks.

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Y/N sighs, “Are you seriously talking about that stupid rivalry thing? That’s just a bunch of BS.”

“Do you guys hang out? Are you friends?”

“Oh my god,” Y/N groans, “Can’t I eat without everyone bringing up Jessie? They’re not even in the same tournament as us, can I not get a fucking break?”

Kelley and Alex share a look.

***

It only gets worse from there. As Canada and the US start playing each other more, and the longer Jessie and Y/N play together at UCLA, and seemingly don’t get along, the more they get asked about it, the more comments are made online, the more frustrated Y/N gets.

Y/N sludges through the mud on her way to practice. It’s been unexpectedly rainy the past few days. Y/N thought LA was supposed to be hot and sunny all year round, and she thought she would spend her days basking in the sun, wearing suntan lotion and getting tan, not stepping in mud and puddles. When she gets to the field, she’s surprised the only other person there is Jessie.

“Am I really late or really early?” Y/N asks.

“I was asking myself the same thing,” Jessie says, “I’m always early but usually the coaches are already here.”

Y/N sets her bag down on the least muddy spot, and shakes her head.

“I thought LA was supposed to be sunny,” Y/N says. Jessie laughs.

“The rain is actually a relief for me,” Jessie says, “There’s not this much sun in Canada, I’m not used to it.”

Y/N laughs. Of course the Canadian likes the rain.

“I’m not surprised no one else showed up,” Y/N says, “The field is a bit waterlogged.” Y/N points down at her feet, her cleats sunk an inch into the mud.

“You can leave if you want,” Jessie says, “I’m gonna stay and run around for a bit, but you don’t have to stay if you’d rather get out of the mud.”

Y/N considers it. She would really like to go back to her dorm and take a hot shower. But she thinks of Jessie, here all alone, and she can’t leave.

“No, I’ll stay, might as well get some work in for the game this weekend.”

Y/N thinks Jessie means she’s going to stay and run drills, so Y/N waits for her to be ready to warm up. She’s too focused on the way her cleats are getting caked in mud to notice the mischievous smile on Jessie’s face. Y/N gasps and jumps back as a wad of mud hits her chest. She looks at Jessie who’s laughing.

“Oh, it’s on.”

Y/N pounces before Jessie can run, tackling her into the mud. They roll around until they’re both covered in mud and laughing so hard their sides hurt. They run around, trying to push each other into puddles. After a bit, Y/N suggests they play 1 on 1 against each other to ‘see who’s really the better midfielder’. They go back and forth a bit, and the score remains even, both equally matched. It goes until Jessie’s up by one, having stripped the ball from Y/N on defense. Jessie dribbles up to Y/N and Y/N knows immediately that she made a mistake, committing too far one way and Jessie easily goes the other. She does it without thinking, one second watching Jessie cut the other way and the next she has her arms around Jessie’s waist, pulling her back until the two of them are tripping backwards into the mud.

Jessie sputters, mouth gaping open.

“That’s a foul! That’s a red!”

“There’s no refs!” Y/N says, “No refs, no rules! We’re tied again, you didn’t get past me.”

“We are not tied! That doesn’t count!” Jessie says, “I had you beat! I fooled you so bad you had to foul me to stop me!”

“What foul? I didn’t hear a foul call,” Y/N knows she’s being annoying, but she refuses to concede the point. “The rules were you had to get past me, and you didn’t get past me. You lost the ball, therefore, my point.”

“You little…”

Before Y/N can react, Jessie is up and running to the ball. She starts dribbling it away from Y/N.

“There! I recovered the ball and got past you! My point!”

“Get back here!” Y/N chases after her.

Y/N runs after Jessie, yelling the whole time, with Jessie yelling back at her. Y/N almost has her, has her fingers in Jessie’s jersey, ready to give it a tug back, and she startles to a stop when a voice rings out.

“You know practice was canceled today, right?” Teagan stands on the edge of the field.

“We sort of figured that,” Y/N says, out of breath.

“Are the two of you going to clean up before team dinner, or is being covered in the mud the new style?”

“I forgot about dinner,” Jessie says, “We should go shower. It’s going to take a while to get all this mud off.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Y/N yells after them as they walk away.

***

They don’t necessarily start hanging out after that. They still exist in different circles, but it’s more like they partner up in practice, or sit together at team meals, or Y/N plops into the seat behind Jessie on the bus.

Comments start to swirl again after one of their games against USC. USC is one of their biggest rivals and the stands are always packed, each team fighting for a win. UCLA pulled out the win, thanks to a goal from Jessie. Jessie gets pulled into an on field interview after the game and Y/N sneaks up behind her and dumps her almost full Gatorade on Jessie’s head.

“I’ll get you back for that!” Jessie yells, before clearly remembering she’s in the middle of an interview. “Sorry,” Jessie says, “What was the question?”

The clip circulates, people asking if they’ve squashed their beef, if it’s all for show, or if they’re really friends. Y/N rolls her eyes at all the comments.

They end up playing against each other with their national teams in a friendly. While in the tunnel waiting to head out on the field, Y/N finds where Jessie’s standing in line.

“Psst, Fleming,” Y/N gets her attention, “Can I get your jersey after the game?”

“Sure,” Jessie says, “But I don’t want yours. I’d rather die than wear American colours.”

Y/N sticks her tongue out at Jessie, but smiles when Jessie has to turn away to keep from laughing. She catches Kelley staring at her, raising her eyebrows. What? Y/N mouths at her. Kelley raises her arms in surrender and focuses back at the front.

After the game Y/N and Jessie meet in the middle of the field. Y/N already has her jersey off. She holds it out to Jessie.

“The whole point of a jersey swap is the swapping of jerseys, now give.”

Jessie rolls her eyes and pulls off her jersey, handing it to Y/N. They put on the others jersey and Jessie makes a face.

“This feels illegal.”

“Let’s take a photo,” Y/N drags Jessie over to the nearest photographer. She’s more than happy to get one of the two of them in each other’s jerseys and promises to send it to both of them.

***

After the game, a lot of the teams plan to meet up since a lot of them are friends and teammates on their club teams. Jessie isn’t 21 yet, and she really doesn’t know anyone on the US team very well, so she stays behind. She should probably do some homework anyway.

Jessie’s finished showering and doing her post game routine and about to pull out her textbooks, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Hey,” Y/N says when Jessie opens the door, “Everyone’s out drinking, except us it seems. Wanna hang?”

Y/N doesn’t wait for an answer before she pushes into the room and flops on the closest bed.

“That’s Janine’s bed,” Jessie says as she closes the door. Y/N groans and moves to the other bed.

“It’s so lame being under 21,” Y/N says, “Everyone ditches us to go to bars and stuff.”

“I don’t like bars anyway,” Jessie says, “I’d rather stay in.”

“I don’t mind staying in, I guess, I like hanging out with you, I’ll skip the bar if you’re here.”

Jessie doesn’t answer, looking away before Y/N can see how her cheeks grow red.

“Did you see this?” Y/N turns her phone to Jessie, “People are going crazy over the picture of us from the game. They’re trying to prove it’s a PR stunt since we tooootally hate each other.”

“All that rivalry stuff is pretty stupid. There was never anything to it.”

“You know everyone wants to create drama when there isn’t any.”

“I never…” Jessie turns to look at the wall, talking quietly, “I never had any problem with you, even before we became friends. I hated the rivalry crap. I always thought… I thought you were cool and I wanted to talk to you, but I thought you might’ve really hated me.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Y/N says, “Jess.” Jessie hears Y/N shifting on the bed and Y/N gently grabs Jessie’s shoulder and turns Jessie to face her. “I didn’t hate you, I thought you were cool too. You’re such a good player and everyone liked you so much. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

“I don’t think I’m that cool,” Jessie mutters.

“You’re way cool!” Y/N says, “You’re one of the best midfielders in the world and you’re still in college! And your photography stuff is really good, and everyone likes you, and, I think you’re really awesome Jess.”

Jessie feels like she might cry, and she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want Y/N to see her cry, she doesn’t want to try to explain why a few nice words from Y/N are making her cry. She panics, because she can feel the tears coming and she doesn’t know how to stop it. Y/N is looking at her intently, and Jessie stops thinking. Before she knows it, her lips are on Y/N’s. She pulls back almost as quickly as she leaned in.

“I’m so sorry,” Jessie says. She feels like she might cry even more now.

“Oh,” Y/N breathes, “Oh. I didn’t realize…”

“I’m so sorry. I get it if you don’t want hang out with me anymore. I’m so sorry.”

Jessie keeps apologizing, not able to do anything else. She’s expecting Y/N to slap her, or to just walk out of the room and never talk to her again. She wonders how easy it is to transfer schools, she doesn’t want to leave UCLA, but she doesn’t know if she can face Y/N again. Lost in her thoughts, she freezes when Y/N kisses her again.

“Sorry,” Y/N says, “But I didn’t know how else to get to you to stop apologizing. I’m not mad, I like you too. I didn’t think you liked me back, so I didn’t say anything. I like you, Jess.”

“Really?” Jessie asks, “You… you like me?” Y/N nods. “I-I like you too,” Jessie says shyly.

Jessie covers her face and falls back on the bed. Y/N laughs and follows her. When Jessie uncovers her face, Y/N is facing her, looking at her with a soft smile on her face. Jessie takes a deep breath and works up her nerve. She reaches a hand out and slides her hand over Y/N’s. Y/N grins and laces their fingers together. Hours later, they fall asleep like that, hands clasped between them, and Jessie wakes up to the sound of a camera shutter.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Janine whispers, “I felt like we needed photo evidence of this moment.”

“Please don’t post that anywhere,” Jessie says, and she rolls over and falls back asleep.

[golden-dart]

Zosan College Professors AU (or teacher I’m not picky) with the one oversharing and the other being closed off about his personal life trope (I think there’s a name for it I just can’t remember it rn)

Sanji teaches culinary arts (obviously) and Zoro teaches maths (maybe? He’s good at it dunno if he would actually teach it tho. Better ideas are more than welcome) and is also responsible for the kendo team there.

Most students think they hate each other cause they always have fights that most of the time get physical that one of the other profs (read: Nami) have to pull them apart.

Students in Sanjis class think his husband is classy in a weird way and probably works with nature? Specifically moss? Why else would the cook call him mosshead?

While Zoros class knows next to nothing about his husband except that he’s a cook and that in zoros opinion his eyebrows are weird, cause he only calls sanji “cook” and “curly brows” in front of them.

His team has seen Sanji at competitions (to support his husband but shh🤫) but they think he’s there to keep them fed and make fun of Zoro cause “what do you feed them? They need nutrients if they want to win!” (No one has the courage/heart to tell the prof off despite everyone being adults who don’t need to be “fed”)

On the rare occasions that a student has both classes, is part of the team and figures it out, no one believes them cause let’s be honest. Them?! They’d kill each other if left alone in a room for too long!

Anyway this is as far as I’ve gotten with this idea, I’m also not entirely sure what the others would do. Like okay Franky, Robin, Chopper and Brook are easy. (Franky: mechanical engineering, Robin: Archeology, Chopper: Medicine, Brook: Music) but Luffy, Usopp, Jimbei and Nami? No idea. Nami maybe geography tho?

[tiyoin]

You know twisted anxiety reader is gonna hate the events from book 5. Like "What do you mean people I barely know is staying here?"

They're just invading on reader's safe space. The only place she can be for a few hours without being so anxious she can't think or breath.

NVM ALL THAT

What does she do in the other events she can't be at the dorm? In book 3 does she sleep outside? In book 4 does Jamil make Kalim tell her Yuu and Grimm are okay or smth? Like after book 2 she doesn't really have a safe space anymore. People are constantly at the dorm.

Does she find a place to hide away when more people start approaching the dorm?

Anyways twisted anxiety reader is the bravest soldier. I wouldn't have made this far. Btw love all your work and you don't have to answer anything that's spoiler-ish/at all if you don't want to.

no because 🌀 will become a cryptic at ramshackle 😭

each guy will have their own interaction with her, but only at night. Jamil finally put Kalim to bed at 1 in the morning, only to find mc snooping through the fridge for a midnight snack

vil gets up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom (even he cant ignore nature for beauty sleep 😔) and mc is finally getting ready for bed and its a 🫵😲 🫵🤨 moment between them

rook gets up super early to work out/ go for a quick nature walk only to find mc on the porch watching the sunrise

Kalim gets up super early because he just cant keep his excitement in only to find mc on the couch doom scrolling and they have a heart to heart 🥺

epel comes back to the house early mad after practicing (he HATES this) only to find mc trying to learn the moves and having fun while doing it, helping him with his process of 'changing his fixed mindset' a bit

ace finds mc on the roof watching the sun set and they have a confrontational teasing moment that brings them closer

deuce forgot something at heartslabyul and was going to sneak out to get it but as he opens the door mc is returning from...wait just where was mc? doesn't matter, they both go together and bond 🤭

but other than these cute one on one moments, mc is in HELL, she cant do ANYTHING ANY MORE BECAUSE BOYS ARE EVERYWHERE!!

she goes to the bathroom for me time, only to have someone pounding on the door yelling about how they 'forgot they were lactose intolerant.' more than once has someone accidentally walked into mc's bedroom thinking it's there's because every room looks. the. same.

mc cant even explore in the middle of the night because EVERYONE IS AWAKE??? THE HOUSE IS NOW ALWAYS NOISY and now she has to temporarily find solace somewhere else- wdym mc is now you's assistant?

ive been thinking about how mc fits into the chronicles of twisted wonderland.

I think mc would follow along with yuu and grim to leona's dorm, but she'd try to make as little of a fuss as she can, but, leona here finds that more annoying and gives her extra things. (he also feels bad for her 😭)

but mc doesn't go the first time to the Scarabia when yuu and grim get trapped, not feeling in the partying mood. but she does try to visit/ go there (because she promised yuu and doesn't want to let them down) the next day... or maybe in a few days?

its either mc also gets trapped or gets kidnapped by one of the leeches in the middle of the night when yuu escapes to the lounge 😭

but yes, mc gets forced to start exploring more and more of the campus as more and more people decide to cause her problems (call it the 'push of fate,' that causes you to react to your situation)

that's where singer au and ice skating au comes from... maybe she comes across a club or the heartslabyul animals!! or an 'abandoned class room' that's actually used for a club and is then forced to join said club....

I think mc would have a whole array of hiding places she can use that will eventually come in handy!!

[lailawinchesterr]

remedy (vi) — sam winchester

> prev, masterlist

summary: just when you thought things were getting easy between you and sam — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing.

“Why do you have so many nicknames for me?” Sam looks up from his book with a frown, still comprehending your question, and you can’t blame him, it came out nowhere. 

It’s only been a few days but you’ve spent the night with each other, though to be fair you’re both mostly studying. You figured it’s a good way to keep him next to you instead of Lily and you’ve always loved study dates. But it hasn’t all been so easy— Jess doesn’t approve of freakin’ Sam Winchester, like, who else would you approve of if not this man? 

In other news, Sam has been shutting you down everytime you brought Dean up and you don’t want to push him so he’s been getting away with it even though you can clearly see how bad it’s eating at him. 

“What?”

“Nicknames. You use lots of them.”

“Such as? Sweetheart?” He has to know how sensual it is when he says it. He has to.

“You use lots of other ones too. Why?”

“I don’t know, I want to see what fits you and what you like, I guess. Do they bother you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and it might as well have been you calling him a fucking idiot. Hate them? You’ve never been so flustered in your life from one person but every single word out of his mouth makes you want to lean in and kiss him. Which you can technically do.

“Was just wondering.”

“Well, which one do you like best?” He questions with a smirk, he knows how unnerved you get. You’ve gotten plenty of nicknames from other people, but most of them are just your own name twisted around, this is something that’s reserved for… lovers, you guess. Couples? Whatever.

“All of ‘em. They all sound good coming from you.” He raises an eyebrow in question and you shrug, sitting down on the bed next to him, “maybe I like some more than the others. Just a little, though, but I want you to call me whatever you like.”

“Tell me which ones.” It’s the way he doesn’t hesitate that makes you speak up even when everything in your body is begging you not to. 

“You know which ones,” it’s a little bit teasing, mostly nerves, but you move closer to him. It seems to be the only position you’re willing to kiss him in, with you on his lap. You really should try to change it up. 

“If you don’t tell me which ones I’m gonna have to start calling you honey-pie.” You gasp, a hand on your chest in offense.

“You fucking wouldn’t! Sam, I think I’d actually throw you out.”

“Of my apartment?” You nod absolutely. “Sure you would, baby.” Okay, that’s the one. The one that makes your heart flutter and eyes fall to his lips and makes things jump inside of you. It’s sweet and hot and so so possessive. 

“Whatever.” It seemed to be your usual ‘conversation ender’ around Sam. “Anyway, I’m done with studying. Bored. And done.”

“Which one?”

“Bored.” He nods and puts his book on the nightstand, some old classic he’s reading for a literature class, not that you understand why on earth he would increase the work-load on himself, but he does. He loves it apparently, and this one was free, too, so. When he’s done you’re immediately straddling him, smiling down at him and enjoying the fact that this is the only time you’re taller than him.

“What are you doing?” He asks teasingly. You’re about to answer when it hits you all at once. Does he think this is sexual? Surely not, you’ve done it a thousand times (a couple) and you’ve only ever made out. But it is ten at night. Still, so what?

You’re about to shake your head when you feel his lips on yours, unrushed and perfect. The way he’s been doing every time you get in your own head. When he pulls away, you’re chasing after him, basically, “Never anything you don’t want, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, though it comes out a little like a whine, then push him against the headboard again, your lips on his. Sam sucks on your bottom lip, making you squeeze your eyes shut in a silent moan that he swallows.

And then. You’re grinding against Sam, involuntarily. You’ve never done it, never felt like this, never felt so—

“Sam— Sam, wait,” He lets out a small laugh as you push him away. You’re sure your hair’s not obedient at this point and you’re only slightly sweating and off balance, but that’s the least of your worries.

“You want me to wait? You’re the one moving.” He says fairly, lazy and relaxed. It’s a long way from how he panicked everytime you pulled away only a week ago, which is heartwarming considering you’ve also gotten better at holding yourself back. Everything is easier now, less strained. Okay maybe it’s just the making out, everything else is still new and unknown to you.

“I know, I know, just— I’m scared…” 

“Hey, come on, I wouldn’t do anything you don’t—”

“That’s not it. I just don’t wanna do it, you know, wrong.” He shakes his head swiftly, sitting up.

“We’ve been doing this for a week and you haven’t messed up once, what makes you think now’s any different. You’re perfect, sweetheart.” He steals the breath from your lungs— not enough to make your worries disappear though.

“Sam,” you pull away, a little breathless, “I didn’t mean, kissing or whatever, I meant. The whole way.”

His eyes widen dramatically, leaning down to whisper, sarcasm lacing his words, “you mean sex?” Like it’s a secret and you roll your eyes, slapping his shoulder.

“Asshole.” 

He uses your arm to bring you back in for a kiss, “we already said we’d wait.”

“I don’t know, Sam, there’s been lots of waiting happening, don’t you think?” Even if you’re right (which you are) Sam’s staying true to his word. He said it would happen when it was the right time, when you’re comfortable enough not to be insecure about it (though that’s probably never so…), and when you’re sure it’s something you want to give to him. 

Which— seriously? Longest list ever. 

He’s about to remind you of his boring list again when— yeah, that’s a window opening. The one in the living room. Okay. This is okay. No big deal, Sam’s here and he probably knows what to do in cases like these… right? 

When you look over at him, he’s already carrying you off his lap to get out of bed, shushing you with his finger over his lips silently before opening the door, looking outside. This is some movie—level type shit, right here, you’re not dying because he’s deciding to take it slow.

“Sam—” He shushes you, sternly this time, with the glare and everything. Which freakin’ terrifies you because up till now you were only overreacting in your head, but very calm on the outside, now you’re shaking on the outside too.

He departs the room so you’re alone with a possible killer in the— “Dean!” 

Oh thank God. 

You let out a breath you were very much holding for dear life before stashing your phone (your finger was on the emergency contact), and opening the door as wide as it goes to greet Dean. Except you get Sammy on the floor, a snappy remark from Dean you can’t hear, then they switch sides.

“Guys… should I leave?” You hesitate, frowning at the pair. Dean look up at you then fucking winks. Sam’s never scrambled off his brother so fast, you’d guess. They’re both off the floor quick, Sam helping Dean to his feet before he saunters to you, that same smirk from the first time glued to his (pretty) face.

“Hey, sweet—”

“Why are you here, Dean.” Sam asks loudly. States loudly? It’s not quiet, that’s for sure.

Dean clicks his tongue with a look that says, ‘I’ll come back to you’, before turning around. He does something, another expression Sam gets with no words and shakes his head, but ultimately nods. 

Great. Another silent conversation you’re not apart of. This is getting real good— “Hey,” Sam steps over to you, a hand on your lower back as he leads you back to his room.

Anyone else think this is getting real fucking repetitive?

“Sam, what’s going on?”

“I’m leaving. With Dean, tonight.” 

Sam’s room is the exact same from when you two were having your moment, lights turned down low the way you like it, and suddenly it doesn’t feel so romantic. Neither does his docile tone. 

“I don’t want to stop seeing you anymore.”

“Beautiful, every part of you.”

“I want to be with you.”

And the best liar’s award goes to… 

“Hey, baby,” You give him a look, one that screams ‘are you on fucking drugs right now’, and he shakes his head. “Not— just till next week. I’ll be back before next week, I promise.” Oh. 

“You said if you leave you wouldn’t come back.”

“I thought that would be the case but,” he leans closer, his dimples, oh-so-beautiful, with that smile, eyes glinting, “I have something to come back to.”

And you’d be deceiving yourself if you say that it doesn’t calm your heartbeat to hear it. You don’t want to be easy, you want to stand your ground, and tell him there’s no way— but wouldn’t you be as bad as Dean, then? Not letting him do what he craves? Whether it’s law, or being a good brother/son, who are you to dictate that for him? All you have is to be there for him through it.

“And— and we’ll keep in contact?” He agrees feverently, his hands landing on your hips to draw you in. 

“No way I’m going to stay for that long and not call you. You said you trust me, right?” 

“Right.”

“So trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” He pinched your hips and you let out a yelp, he made sure to capture the moment by stealing a kiss, deepening it immediately. Like he doesn’t want to keep telling you how he feels through words, they’re too little, too underwhelming, not enough to explain what he feels for you. 

And you hope, with everything that you fucking are, that that’s what that kiss meant.

When you disconnect, his eyes, if nothing else, serenade you. And you’re sitting on his bed watching him pack with such little disdain, it’s comforting. Even when him and Dean drive you home in the impala, even when you kiss one last perfect time with his promise of next week you’re still composed.

Even when you tell Jess.

“He— what?” She shrieks, her arms crossing in front of her chest. She’s not even angry at him for leaving you. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

“He’s coming back, jess—”

“Yeah well I come back after every summer vacation, still tell everyone I love them before taking off.”

I shrug, partly agreeing with her but honestly? The fact that I got to kiss him seconds before he took off is enough for me to forgive anything else he’s ever done. Except Gen jumps into the conversation, holding up her phone, reading out loud his ‘hey, Gen, I’m out of town for a few days, love you.’

And Jess is freakin’ seething, it’s actually kind of funny. Gen is rapidly regretting her decision to share with the class and is soothing her girlfriend when you get another text. Thankfully your phone’s on silent so it doesn’t alert both girls, but you feel it vibrate and open the message.

Sam: hey.

Sam: Did you tell Gen and Jess?

You: yeah, why?

Sam: because I don’t wanna tell Jess.

Sam: I can imagine how funny she’s being right now that I said bye to the both of you but not her.

Sam: don’t want her to worry though.

You: asshole.

You: in an affectionate way.

Sam: I’ll text you later, baby.

Maybe he should leave more often if he’ll be this tender and caring with you. You take that back. Because you’d still be on his damn bed talking, kissing, maybe even going a little further if Dean fucking Winchester hadn’t interrupted you. 

You were talking about something really important, just for him to, what? Break in! Like a lunatic, no less. But you’ve gotten over it already, new problems, new overthinking material. 

You’re thankful for the nights with jess and gen, considering you haven’t been close with them these past few days, always with Sam, sleeping over at his, which is surprisingly easy considering you lock yourself in a room of your own after spending half the night on his bed talking or studying. 

But thankful, nonetheless. You needed some alone time. And when you wake up Sam sends you a text, just good morning and when you respond it doesn’t go further than that, you don’t mind. You’re glad to know he’s alive everyday till he decides to come back home. Which is why when he calls two days later, you on your stomach with some assignments in front of you, you answer like he’ll hang up in a second if you don’t. 

“Sam Winchester. Who would’ve thought, you do know how to use a phone!” It’s a tease, he’s honestly been incredible with keeping you updated, but it’s good to know he meant it when he said he’ll call.

“How’s our favorite doctor?”

“How’s our hotshot lawyer?”

“Good. Better now that I’m talking to you.” He says, exhaling like he just sat down on his bed and you let out a laugh.

“Stupidest thing you’ve ever said. Hands down.”

“Oh, shut up, you love it.” You do. “How’s school?”

“Fine. Jess said you’re missing important classes. How’s Lily taking it, her partner up and leaving?” He doesn’t answer, just groans like she’s been making his life miserable, though you wouldn’t know. Okay maybe you’re a little bitter about him leaving.

“She’s texting non stop, but I get it— just wish she’d believe that I’m out of town. She probably knocked on my apartment door I swear to God.”

“Gen would’ve known.”

“She’s staying at the apartment?” He questions, and you hear— Dean. Dean is in the background, shouting something about a… woman called Constance. And you’re muted. Great. “Sorry,” he says over the static after a long thirty seconds. “Gen, why’s she not over at yours?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t wanna leave the apartment empty, I guess. Jess is over at yours more often than not, though, if that makes you feel any better.”

“So you’re alone.” You shrug, then remember the obvious, and mumble something about studying. This whole call has been dull the second he spoke. There’s something going on, and it has nothing to do with Gen or Jess or the apartment.

“What’s wrong, Sam?” Everytime sam takes a pause before he answers, or say ‘baby’ in that low voice, full of so much emotion, or shakes his head before he’s even spoke a word, your heart drops for a second. First it was age, then experience, then leaving and now— God, whatever this is. The only reason you’re not always assured with sam is because you have to hold your breath in anticipation when he open his mouth.

“It’s nothing, I’m just— this case is taking longer than I thought.” 

They’re called cases, now? What has America come to? “Okay, what’s wrong with that? Is it like… too infected?” 

He stutters and it forces you to shut your eyes in agony, just stop. Just stop and say what you mean or you might actually throw the phone.

“Yeah, something like that— I gotta stay for another week.” You huff out a breath, sitting up immediately, another week? 

“It’s only been two days! How could you possibly know you’ll need to stay another two weeks?” If your voice is slightly raised, it isn’t because you mean for it to be. In fact, you’re trying with everything in your soul to breathe before you speak but he’s making it so difficult. You feel like you’re being… played or— something is going on and it sucks. 

“Look it’s connected to another state and we’re—.”

“You’re what? The only exterminators in the country? Sam what the fuck kind of exterminators are that important, huh?” Suddenly, you're no longer concerned about the volume of your voice, “I swear to god, I just— just give me something, anything, sam! Tell me something I can believe. You promised it'll only be a week.”

He says your name like it’ll stop you from lashing out, and you can just imagine him with his head in his hands over the edge of the bed, or sprawled out on it, a palm pressing into his forehead. Either way he’s stressed and any other day you would’ve tried to be there for him, he’s your friend above all else, but he’s lying to you. “I can’t just— it’s a family thing, okay?”

You scoff, already feeling the tear running down your cheek. Whatever. Fine. You weren’t naive enough to think you’re close enough to be considered anything other than his girlfriend, if you were even that. You’ve never had sex, you’ve only been dating for a week, known each other for a month. You know what? Maybe this is going a little too fast. Maybe this is just—

“No, no, stop it. Please. This isn’t it, okay? We can have fights without ending it, right? Right?” 

Right. He’s right. He should be right.

Is he right?

“Tell me the truth.”

“I… am. Kind of. We’re not exterminators for the bugs type of thing— more like bears and other wild animals. Wolves.” So. Much. More. Believable. 

You’re in Med school for fucks sake, does he think you got there with your good looks? He can’t be for real. “That’s a lie.”

“It isn’t, I swear.”

“Your promise, your swearing, whatever, doesn’t mean that much right now, Sam.” Even with how mad you are, you know that’s not true, he’s always been true to his word, and you get that this was out of his hands, he can’t help it if there’s an extension of the ‘case’. But it’s as low as you can go. “Whatever. You hunt bears, where’s your dad?”

“He’s, I don’t know.” The way he says it, so heavy with exhaustion and worry, even you can tell it’s as truest raw as it can get. “Me and Dean are looking everywhere. He left us this thing, his journal—”

“Journal?”

“He’s old school. Wrote where he’d be next in it, we just want to find him, then I’ll come back, I have to finish the year.”

“Yeah. And your LSATS. They’re in one month starting tomorrow.” 

“Yeah… I know.” And for some reason, you feel like a dick for being so assertive. Sam doesn’t sound like himself at all, and sure a part of it was probably from him lying to you, but you can still sense there’s something else. You’re done asking for tonight, though, he doesn’t need questions, he needs comfort. You get that, more than anyone. But one last thing—

“Why the hell would you lie to me about something like that, Sam?” Your question isn't accusatory like most of the conversation was, it’s lighter, and seems to flow between you and Sam easier. 

“Didn’t want you to worry. What me and Dean do is dangerous, and we kind of seek out these things to hunt them down— only if they’ve hurt someone.” That’s sweet, no matter how moronic it is. His intentions never were malicious, with you or other people.

“Right. That’s petrifyingly risky.” 

“Petri—” He chuckles, “Yeah, Shakespeare, what else?”

You scoff affectionately, “Not the point. Just… honesty, okay? That’s all we have, it’s all I ask.” 

You can feel him nodding, and you can feel yourself mirror his actions. You’re not even— you’ve only known him for a month and somehow he’s the only man you’ve ever seen yourself have a future with. How? How does he do this to you? Hypnotize you and pull you in, while still being your safety net. It’s comfortable, it’s passionate and God you’re so into him. 

“Yeah, baby, honest. Tell me about your day.” If the grin on your face means anything it’s that you’ve never felt like this before, and you might never again with another man.

Sam: morning.

You: hey, how are you?

‘Mornings’ never usually open up to conversations, just a way of reassurance, but it’s been a couple of days since you’ve last called each other and you’re life’s pretty tame right now, why not initiate the conversation?

Sam: hey, i’m okay, what about you? 

You: I’m fine, just studying.

Sam: oh, want me to leave you for a bit?

You: no, no, I’m done already. 

You: I wanna talk to you.

You: when are you free?

He usually opts to call at night, between ten and twelve before he has to go to sleep and it’s usually just half an hour, maybe an hour if he’s not too tired. He doesn’t say much about Dean or his Dad but at least you get some of him.

Sam: I can call you tonight.

You: okay, stay safe.

Sam: you too.

But then ‘tonight’ comes and it’s as silent as it was the night before, except last night you didn’t have a promise of a call. And you’re not even mad, you’re just worried— not worried enough to throw your dignity to the floor and call or text him yourself— but still pretty worried. 

It’s only eleven, maybe he’ll call later? 

He won’t. He doesn’t. But he texts good morning. The next damn day there’s a ‘good morning’ text right under your previous texts making plans to call.

So, like the petty person you are, because that is one trait you are not afraid to let shine, you don’t text back. You have classes all day, anyways, and it’s the last day before the long weekend, so it’s busy enough as it is without having to talk to Sam. Which you don’t have to worry about because he doesn’t want to talk to you anyways.

Except when he decides to talk to you. Except when he decides to text you at ten at night two days later, after not getting a response from you;

Sam: can we talk?

part seven: all my habits came back around.

title: it’s ok, I’m ok by tate mcrae — (baby, don’t get it twisted)

can you tell I wouldn’t die in a horror movie with her finger on the emergency contact? one thing about me is I will not write a horror movie bitch no matter what the plot is, she will be calling the police/her mum the second there’s a sound‼️‼️

I’ll make a master list for remedy since I think there 2 chapters left maybe. this one is pretty cute to prepare you for the next one which is just angst at its finest. THEN THE LAST CHAPTER WHAT. okay I won’t get too excited since I’m not sure when I’ll be posting them yet but I hope you enjoyed this.

and I’ll fix the format for the rest of the chapters so that they’re like this one since this is the one I decided on. If u wanna be tagged comment or send me a message!!

tag list:

@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats 

@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy

@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97 @tranquilitybasegrunge

[justmeinadaze]

Colors (Part of Halsey AU)(Eddie X You)

A/N with Warnings: You don't have to have read the others to understand this but it helps. Part of this AU. While the universe is a Steddie pairing, this is about one of the readers experiences with Eddie when he was an addict. I'm writing one for Steve next. I would place it between part one and two of the series.

Warnings: 1994 is healing Eddie munson and 1985 is Toxic/Addict Eddie with Fem Girlfriend Reader, SMUT, slight dirty talk, comfort, needy intimacy

ANGST, Eddie unintentionally triggers Y/N and she disassociates, Steve uses his therapy skills to bring her back and help them both, Eddie exhibits toxic behaviors (yelling, degrading, throwing things, accuses her of cheating), He unintentionally throws something and almost hits her. Mentions of Steve's alcoholism. Wayne scolds his nephew and worries about him "ending up like Allen". A teacher is a dick and belittles Eddie.

The flashback doesn't have a happy ending but the 1994 timeline does. Obviously because events in the series...

Word Count: 4815

Donate/Tip me <3

"You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink."

1994

“Hey, pretty girl.”, Eddie beams from his place at the stove where he was making dinner. “How was your day?”

“Good. Long.”, you sigh as you hop up on the stool by the counter as you watch him move around. “My editor wants me to rewrite the article and he just kind of made me feel bad.”

The metalhead’s back straighten as he turned to face you. 

“What did he say?”

“He kind of insinuated that I’m slacking and that I’ve turned in way better work than this. He’s right ya know?”

“What? No, sweetheart. Fuck that guy!”, he shouted as he turned back to his pan to stir the food. “Y/N, you writing is amazing! That asshole fucking sitting on his high horse behind his desk like he’s God or something dictating what’s ‘acceptable’. He should feel fucking lucky he has someone as talented as you!”

His long hair lightly smacks his cheek as he turns to throw a smile your way but your wide eyes and frozen stature has it falling from his lips. 

“Y/N?”, he coos but you don’t respond. “Baby?”

Tossing the spatula he was holding to the side; he turns off the stove and comes around to cup your face in his palms. 

“Sweetheart, look me. What’s going on?”

You were mumbling something as your mouth moved and he had to place his ear right above your lips to even put any of the words together. 

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do? What do…”

“STEVE!!”

####################

1985

You stare at his empty seat beside you in class when you should be listening to the teacher speak about trivial things like Shakespeare and Hamlet. Eddie had been there that morning when you shared your breakfast with him and Steve knowing they most likely didn’t eat because their vices made them nauseas especially in the mornings. 

Now it was your first class after lunch and he wasn’t here. When he walked away from you, he said he had to go to the bathroom but he would be there before the bell rang. You couldn’t help but envision him hiding in a stall before digging into his pocket to look for the vile filed with powder he felt like he needed to survive. He was probably smearing it along the point between his index and thumb before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply. He most likely thought about how late he was going to be and how disappointed you were in him but the pull of the high was stronger. 

“Y/N?”, the teacher calls jerking you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to answer my question?”

“I, uh, I’m sorry what was the question?”

“I asked if you thought Hamlet loved Ophelia especially with the way he treated her.”

“Um, I feel like it’s more than what’s on the surface. Hamlet seems to hate her when he says mean things to her and calls her names but he was so consumed by things going on inside his head… that he lashed out and said things he didn’t mean.”

The teacher’s eyes scan you over as the bell rings and kids start to stand to pack up their belongings.

“Alright, class. I’ll see you on Monday. Don’t forget your assignment due first thing Monday morning! Miss Y/N, would you mind staying behind for me?”

You nod as you finish putting away your things before following behind him to his desk where he takes a seat and waits for the last student to leave. 

“Here’s a copy of the worksheet I handed out at the beginning class. Tell him if he skips my class one more time I’m going to have to speak with Principal Higgins and his uncle.” As your lips form into a thin line, you nod again as you reach for the paper, pausing when he doesn’t release it from his grasp. “I know he’s your best friend, Y/N, but you can’t let him keep dragging you down. You are a smart girl and an extremely talented writer. You deserve to excel in life.”

Taking the worksheet, you push it into your backpack and flash him your calmest smile you could muster.

“So does he. Thank you, Mr. Gold. I’ll see you on Monday.”

***

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice as he forced his eyes open to see a blur standing over him. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Shhh, Eddie. You’re in the library. Come on, it’s time to head home.”

“Is it? Fuck me. I meant to sit down for one second. Ok, let’s go, fuck.”, he grunted as he tripped over his feet and fell into your arms accidently pushing you back. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m ok. I got it.”

As you drove his van, you worried about Steve who was supposed to have dinner with his parents and some of his father clients. Knowing him, after he would binge the booze in the house and then come to the trailer looking for you. You always worried when he went outside drunk, afraid he would cause an accident or if he was walking, ended up somewhere he shouldn’t be. Your parents were out of town this weekend so you planned on staying at Eddie’s to help him with his English homework but knowing them none of that would get done. 

“How was class? Did Mr. Asshole have anything to say?”, he sighed as he turned his body to face you while you drove. 

“No.”, you lied. “But he did give me the worksheet we worked on and then he mentioned we have that homework due on Monday.”

“Fuck, I haven’t even started that. I don’t Hamnie.” His eyes flick towards you when you giggle making him smile softly towards you. “What? Why are you laughing at me, pretty girl?”

“It’s Hamlet, dork.”

“Oh, excuse me.”, he teases before tilting towards you to kiss your cheek and leaning on your shoulder. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you to, Eddie.”

***

“Fuck me.”, he whines under his breath when he sees his uncle’s truck still by the trailer.

Taking a hold of your hand, he practically yanks your arm out of its socket as he pulls you to the door and through the living room. 

“Ed.”, Wayne calls before the boy even makes to the hallway. Sighing, he releases you and takes a step back to meet his guardian. “I got a call from a couple of your teachers today. They said you weren’t in class.”

“I was. They must be mistaken. Y/N can vouge for me since she has a couple with me.”

You stiffen as he points to you but Wayne already understands what his nephew doesn’t seem to. It’s not fair to put you in the middle. 

“I’m not asking her, I’m asking you. Your English teacher tells me you’re about to fail his class and your science teacher said you’re one test away from an F.”

“Ok, ok. Jesus, I’ll do better.”

“You said that last time, kid, and the time before that! I won’t tolerate it anymore. You need to get your act together. When I took you in I promised you’d have a better life! I won’t allow you to end up like Allen!”

Eddie’s entire body straightened as you felt the anger practically radiating from him. 

“I’m nothing like him. Now, don’t you have a deadbeat job to get to?!”

Your heart broke for Wayne when you say his own crack open through his eyes. Grabbing his cap, he shimmied around his nephew and paused by the door. 

“Y/N, would you like me drop you off at home on my way?”

Taking ahold of his hand, you caress it gently with your thumb piercing Eddie’s chest as he watches you comfort his uncle. That was the kind of person you were and one of his favorite things about you. You were so kind and full of love he felt he didn’t deserve.

He was always terrified one day someone would notice that and take you away from them. Or even worse, you would realize you deserved better and leave. No…he couldn’t allow that. Eddie and Steve needed you. Without you they were less than nothing; they were empty. A blank canvas with zero color or a dark room with no light. 

“I’m actually going to stay here tonight, Wayne. Thank you and be careful. It looks like it may rain soon.”

Glancing towards the hallway Eddie had disappeared down, he nods and lightly shakes you hand before letting go. 

“Yeah, it does.”

***

“Fucking asshole. I’m nothing like my dad.”, he grumbled as he pulled out a cigarette and lit the end. “And what about you, huh? Why the fuck didn’t you defend me out there?!”

“I didn’t…I don’t want to be in the middle, Eddie.”

“Bullshit! You put yourself in the middle all the fucking time! Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Gold was going to call him?! Do you want to see me in trouble?!”

“No! He told me if you missed one more class then he would call him.”

“So, you lied to me!? He did talk to you?! Why the fuck did you lie?!”

“Because I didn’t think it was a big deal. You are going to class and I’m going to help you get an A.”

“By fucking him?”

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me! You and I both know you’re not as innocent as you claim to be, little girl! What else did he say huh?! Tell me!!”

Your jaw tightened as you defiantly planted your feet into the floor. 

“He said I deserved better and that I’m an amazing writer! He thinks I’m going to make something of myself one day.”

“And he’s going to help you right?”, he sneered.

“Yes, you fucking dick! You caught me! He said all I needed to do was meet him after class and if I do whatever he wants he’ll help me get into school just to spite you!”, you lied watching as he slowly got amped up the more you spoke. “Is that what you want to hear?! It seems to be because you accuse me of bullshit like that all the time, Eddie!”

“Because I know you’re not fucking perfect like you pretend to be, you fucking whore! FUCK! Teachers think I’m a fucking failure, you think I’m a fucking idiot apparently, and my uncle thinks I’m like my father. You want to see me like my fucking father, I can show you what Allen is capable of. 

You watched him with wide eyes as he trashed his room around you both muttering things to himself under his breath while the destruction happened around him. You were never afraid of either of them when they got low like this. Neither boy had ever hurt you physically and the viper tongue you had long gotten used to. It was when all sense seemed to fade and the light that usually gave you hope disappeared into the background of their anger that you started to worry. When caution was haphazardly thrown to wind and they were no long present which was rare but happened. 

Like now…

He wasn’t even sure what he threw until your squeak filled the room and a loud shattering crash pushed some of the drug induced fog out of his brain. It took him a moment as his eyes darted around the room looking for you before he realized you were on the floor with your hands covering your head. 

“Y/N?” 

Behind you there was now a hole in his wall the size of the ashtray he threw with ashes suddenly sprinkled all around you. 

“Baby! Oh my god!” Falling to his knees, his hand reached out to dust the mess from your hair but you coward away and his heart shattered. “Sweetheart…FUCK! I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean what I said or…” When he tries to touch you again, you forcefully shove him away. “Baby, please, let me make it up to you. L-Let me hold you.”

The last of your resolve faded away as he reached for you again and this time you allowed him to lift you into his arms, where he pulled you onto his bed and held you tightly to his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’re too good for me, princess. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Eddie…what do I have to do…to show you that I love you both and ONLY you both?”

“Nothing, baby. I know. It’s the blow…fuck…you deserve better. I swear I’m never taking another hit. I hated seeing you afraid of me.”

Closing your eyes, you melted into the frame, his hands shaking as he gently petted your head and kissed your shoulder.

“Y/N?”, he whispered but you chose to pretend to be asleep, to heavy in your trauma exhausted brain to even answer back. “I’m scared. If I ever lost you it would kill me, baby, especially if it was my fault. If I ever… no…I could never hurt you, sweetheart. Not like my dad with my mom…or me. Did you know that black eye I had when you first met me…Allen accused me of ‘being too good for this family’. Popped me so hard… That’s not me…right, baby? I’m not…that bad?

Fuck. The fact that I even have to ask myself that says enough. No more, pretty girl. I’m going to get clean and get my act together. I’m going to be the man you need me to be. I love you so much.” His voice cracks and he clings to you tighter. 

When he finally releases you, you do fall asleep only to be woken up to the bed jostling as someone falls into.

“Steve Harrington!”, Eddie hisses in a murmur. “I have a fucking front door. You’re going to wake her up!”

The boy stumbles not so subtly, still shaking the mattress before rising to his feet. 

“Jesus, dude. What the fuck happened here?”, the jock slurred. 

“I, uh, we… I did too much blow at school and…”

“And? You didn’t fucking hurt her did you?!”, Steve growled.

The sounds of him scurrying off the floor before pushing his friend against the wall fill your ears. 

“Shhhhh!! No, dick. I didn’t fucking hurt her and I never would.”

“Get the fuck off me! I had a long night alright dealing with my parents and their bullshit friends. I don’t need you and your bullshit to!”, the boy shouts with zero regard to the volume of his voice. 

“Steve?”, you call as you open your eyes and face their direction. He was drenched from head to toe from the rain outside and you quickly crawled out of bed realizing just then that Eddie had begun cleaning the mess around the room. “You’re gonna get sick, baby. Let’s get you warmed up and dried off.”

Steve’s eyes softened when you took his hand, leading him to the bathroom so he could shower and change before getting into bed. 

***

The following morning, you awoke to the feeling of fingers in your hair and opened your eyes to lock with Eddie’s tearful, bloodshot ones. 

Without saying a word, you reached out to caress his cheek, swiping your thumb along his face to catch the wetness that stained it. Placing his palm over yours, he tilted his head to kiss your skin and nuzzled into the warmth of your hand. 

When his bottom lip trembled, your own tears began to fall as you pulled his body into yours and held him tightly to you. 

Out of all the many states and emotions you have seen both boys in, you hated this one the most. When the pain, no longer numbed by vice, would leak through. You never wanted to see them hurting and did everything you could to remind them that you were there. You desperately wished there was a way you could take it from them to house it yourself. 

Sometimes you would imagine touching your palm to their chest and blue glow would flow from them to you. They would shine brighter and smile wider; maybe finally be at peace. You were strong. You could handle the heaviness of that glow until they were ready to work through it themselves. 

“I’m not my dad.”, Eddie whimpered as his voice cracked. 

“No, baby, you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Shaking your head, you tilted back so your lips could kiss his. “I get so scared sometimes…I don’t know what I would do without you…”

“I’m not going anywhere, honey, I promise.”

He kissed you again, slowly at first till they became steadily more passionate with his shaking palm gripping your hips to press against his own. In one swift motion, Eddie pulled you from Steve’s sleeping side, underneath his warm frame as his needy kisses promptly travelled to your neck. 

Feeling the movement between your legs, you wrapped your limps around his waist as he shimmied his cock free from his boxers and you licked your palm before reaching down to pump it along his shaft as a heavy pant escaped his lips. Tilting both your heads to look down, you two watch as you move your panties to the side and guide his length inside of you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”, he groaned as he collapsed fully on top of you as you circled both your arms around him. 

“I love you so much, Eddie. I know—mmm—I know you’d never hurt me like he did you.” 

As you spoke, the metalhead steadily thrust his hips delivering long, deep strokes that had the head of him deliciously abusing your g-spot while you tried to focus on comforting him. 

“I’m yours and Steve’s. I would—oh my—I would never hurt you or-or leave you for anyone else. I need you.”

Abruptly pushing up onto his palms, his eyes searched your face as he picked up his rhythm.

“You need me, baby?”

You don’t know what made you do it but your hand extended landing directly on his bare chest. You imagined that blue light leaving his heart and wrapping around your wrist, guiding you as your palm moved behind his neck to bring his lips to yours. 

“I’ll always need you, Eddie. Make me cum, honey, please. I-I need to feel you fill me up.” Honoring your request and not caring about the man sleeping beside you, he pumped his hips harder and faster, slamming his cock deep inside you. “Just like that, Eddie, please.”

“Just like that, Y/N? Fuck, say it again. Say you need me.”

“I need you.”

“Again.”

“I need you, Eddie.”

“Ah—again.”

“I need you.”

Taking ahold of your wrists, he pins them beside you head as his own fall into the nook of your neck and his heavy breaths warm your skin. Your body shakes beneath him as the coil snaps and the pillow smothers his grunts as he pounds his release into your cunt. 

As you both pant, you glance towards Steve who was still fast asleep with his head turned towards the wall. When Eddie shifted his gaze to see what you were looking at he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Boy sleeps like a rock especially with that whiskey he drinks.” Shifting his gaze to you, he tenderly leans down to kiss your lips. “Tomorrow when we wake up maybe him and I can come up with a plan together on how to get sober.”

Your fingers caress his cheek as he grins and kisses your fingertips. 

***

“Mr. Munson, you seem a bit jittery today.”, Mr. Gold addresses Eddie with an edge as the boy slowly walks to the front to hand him the worksheet with other homework you had given him and worked with him to complete all weekend while you waited for him outside the door after class. 

“Y-Yes, yes, sir. Just, um, trying to get things in order.”

The metalhead just wanted to throw all this bullshit on the man’s desk and leave. He hadn’t had a hit since Friday evening and he felt like his body was trying to kill him. All he wanted to do was go home and lay down with you in his arms. 

“Well, there’s a lot more that needs to be done, son. Did Y/N help you with this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She’s a sweet girl and very smart. She has a bright future ahead of her.”, the teacher responds absently as he looks through the boy’s assignments. 

“Yes, s-sir. We tell her that all…all the time.”, Eddie winces as he grabs his stomach. 

“Hm. It’s interesting that you tell her that yet you continue to drag her down. She’d probably be in one of our higher courses we offer here but for whatever reason she insists on being where she’s at.”

“Steve and I would never do anything to keep Y/N from being great.”, he growled. “She’s our best friend and we love her.”

“But not enough to grow with her it seems. All right, well, I’ll go over these and input your grade later. Keep showing up and doing the work. Who knows, maybe we can keep another Munson out of jail.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as his brain goes into overdrive before reaching over the desk to grab the paperwork you both had work so hard on and ripped it in half.

“EXCUSE ME!”

“You’re not fucking excused, asshole!”

“Eddie, wait—“, you called trying to stop him as he shoulder checked you and powerwalked down the hallway. “How could you say that to him?!”

You teacher grumbled as began picking up the pieces of paper around him. 

“He did a couple of assignments, Y/N. He has a lot more things he needs to do to show me he actually wants to do better and this isn’t a tick in his favor.”

“How the fuck is he supposed to do better when you belittle him like you just did?! He worked all weekend trying to catch up!”

“Watch your mouth, Miss Y/L/N, or I swear to god I’ll call your parents.”

“Call them! Hell, I’ll tell them when I get home what an asshole you are! You’re a teacher! You’re supposed to guide him not bring him down!”

Turning down the hall, you went on the hunt for him, ending up in the parking lot where he was sitting in his van.

“Babe?”

A small smirk painted his lips as he lazily leaned his head to face you. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Eddie…please…”

“No, baby. Everything…everything’s ok. I actually feel a lot better, you know. Fuck that guy. I’m going to show him how amazing I am and pass that stupid class with flying colors so I can shove it in his face!” 

As his glassy eyes meet yours, your heart shatters into pieces once more as you wonder to yourself why you even bothered to get your hopes up this time when every time before has always had the same outcome. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get something to eat.”

 After climbing into his van, he inhales and rubs the bottom of his nose with his finger before glancing toward the glovebox to make sure it was closed and reaching for your hand to hold onto his lap. 

###################

1994

Ice touching your arm startles you back into the moment as you gasp and squeeze the hand holding yours. 

“There she is. It’s ok, honey, you’re ok. Breathe. Good girl. Inhale…and exhale…good.”, Steve smiles as he places the cube he was holding back into the cup by his side. His cold fingers continue to run along your skin as he watches your eyes fleet from left to right. “You’re alright. We’re in our apartment in Detroit and your safe, baby.”

“Is she ok?”, Eddie murmurs as he bites the nail on his thumb. “Do we need to go to the hospital or doctor or something?”

Steve calmly shakes his head as his other palm pets your hair. 

“You’ve seen her do this before in high school. She’s disassociating.”

“Because of me? I-I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even think. I—”

Both men watch as your head hangs and you start to sob. You allow Steve to pull you into his arms while he continues to comfort you while his friend waits helplessly on the side lines. 

“Shhhh. We got you, Y/N. You’re safe. Everything is ok. Hey, Ed, why don’t you go make her a bath with those smells she likes?” Without hesitation, he runs that way and the other boy allows him a moment before carrying you to the bathroom. “There we go, pretty girl. There’s no rush ok? You sit here as long as you need to and I’m going to go finish dinner. Is it ok if Munson sits with you?”

You nod and in return he kisses your forehead but before he can leave Eddie grabs his arm. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if I scare her again?”

“She’s not afraid of you, Eddie. Trust me. Whatever happened I’m sure you didn’t do it intentionally. It could have been something as small as a smell or as big as a raise in your voice. Whether we like it or not…we’re responsible for her pain… we just have to be there for her and do whatever she needs.”

“Yeah…yeah…hey, um, can you show me what you did out there to bring her back? Just in case in the future, you know?”

“Of course. Right now, though, I think it would be good for you two to talk.”, he smiles as he pats his friend’s back and leaves the room. 

Exhaling out the nerves, he takes a seat on the floor beside the tub facing you as you stared forward. Your gaze shifted towards him, however, when he leaned his head back and accidently hit it a bit too hard causing him to wince as he rubbed his head. 

A little snort laugh left your lips and he grinned as he playfully rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, that’s funny, huh? I think I just lost some lyrics to a few songs with that little bonk.” When his eyes meet yours, he sees that light that had been reflecting through them this past year return and he sighed in relief. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me.”, you murmur. “I think it was just a combination of my day and…”

“And what?”, he urges as he rests his chin on his arm that’s laying on the edge of the tub. 

“I don’t want you change who you’ve become, Eddie. You didn’t do anything wrong. My brain just…sometimes things trigger it…”

“Because of what we did.” Your head hangs but he immediately places his fingers under your chin to lift it again. “Baby, we own it. That’s what therapy and rehab taught us. We can never take that back even though every day I wish we could. I wish I could just touch your brain and take away all the pain we caused but I can’t.”

“I always wanted that with you two. I thought of me touching your chest and…”

“Yeah but sweetheart it’s no longer just you facing this alone. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“My editor said the things he said and then you raised your voice. It reminded me of that incident with Mr. Gold.”

“Pfft, yeah…Mr. Asshole.”, he chuckles as he shakes his head. “I heard he’s not teaching anymore thank God. I, um, that was when I accused you of wanting to sleep him. I threw things including the ashtray…”

When you nodded, he swallowed at the memory. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it? I don’t mind. It helps me to understand you know?”

You two talked until the water got cold. 

Eddie brought you to the bedroom to dry you off, put you in comfy pajamas, and brush your hair. By the time Steve said dinner was ready, you wouldn’t have been able to tell anything had happened at all. 

The metalhead threw you over his shoulder and you giggle all the way to the couch where he lightly tossed you down to sit beside you. 

“Don’t get used to this, rockstar. Here you go, honey.”, the other boy teases and hands you both your plates. 

“Thank you. Oh, hey Steven! Fork?”, Eddie sasses, grin widening when you laugh. While they playfully banter, you grab the remote and flip through the tv. “Oh, princess, look!”

“Yes!”, you beam as you both get more comfortable and Steve whines as he places himself beside you. 

“Why? Do we have to watch blood and cuts?”

“Yes.”, you and the metalhead announce at the same time. 

Eddie smiles down at you and tilts down to kiss you lips. 

###########

[queerprayers]

I’m unemployed dropped out of school before I reached high school and am unbaptised. Does God care about someone like that

Welcome, beloved, to the blog of a high school dropout who walks dogs (but has never actually been employed anywhere), and was baptized as a baby and so did not have any choice in the matter! God cares about both of us, and has given us ways to serve Them in our own lives, as we are now.

Your employment status can obviously matter quite a bit in terms of survival, because of the world we live in, but itself has no bearing on your relationship with God. Whatever the reason you don't have a job, you have a life worthy of care, from those around you and from God. Being employed has never been a Christian focus--devoting your life to God has. Capitalism has changed so much, but please know that the ways the system (and those misled by it) shames you do not reflect the will of God. No human system can decide your worth.

Your level of education, similarly, doesn't say anything about you that God cares about. I dropped out of school for health reasons--whatever yours are, even if you don't feel they're good, whatever! High school was invented like 200 years ago, and has nothing to do with God's care for you. Education is holy--reading, talking to different kinds of people, learning about history and the natural world, thinking about God. This knowledge is in schools but it's also everywhere else. I'm not telling everyone reading this to drop out of high school, but I am saying that there are so many beautiful paths without it. I would also point out that in many places, there is support for people who left schooling early--my city, for instance, has free GED (high school equivalency diploma) programs. If that's something you want to change (of your own volition, not because God will care about you any differently), it's very possible that you can.

Baptism is the most easily changed thing on this list, if you seek it. Most churches require some discussion beforehand, maybe a class to learn about the denomination, but there aren't huge barriers (and there is no test of worthiness). If it's not in your future, for whatever reason, I can still tell you God cares about you, fully, as you are. Baptism is lots of things for lots of people--a symbol, a physical manifestation of grace, a welcoming into a Christian community, a sealing of a covenant--but it has never been the first moment of care from God. That has already passed--it was the first moment you existed. To say you need to be baptized for God to care about you is to say that God doesn't care about anyone from any other religion, or about those who die before baptism--what a sad life that would be. What a limiting belief.

I don't know you, but I have faith you treat others well. I have faith you wouldn't tell me God didn't care about me because of my job or schooling. So don't do that to yourself. I hate to break it to you, but you have no say in the matter. It doesn't matter how worthy you are, or how much you're succeeding by our current society's standards. God is love, a love which keeps no record of wrongs, a love which does not weigh with the measures of this world, a love which cannot be contained in the rituals of an institutional church, a love which does not require knowledge or action or belief to surround us. We are saved by this love, not by a diploma or paycheck or a pastor's words.

Go in peace, beloved. Glorify God with your life, not with someone else's. And anyone who tells you that there are limits on God's care is not talking about the God of the Bible--who works through the underdog, who turns any idea of worthiness on its head, who picks the younger son and the tax collector, the unwed mother and the poor father. God comes to where we are, and takes us by the hand.

<3 Johanna

[gilverrwrites]

Sionis!Reader with Jason is a genre handcrafted by a fanfic deity, but Sionis!Reader who is classmates paired together on a project to unlikely friends to lovers with Tim Drake is untapped potential

Callin’ you captain, 'cause you've got one hell of a hook, boo!

But if I may add one thing: Sionis!Reader who actually has a moderately decent relationship with their pops, so they were raised with a chip on her shoulder, especially when it comes to the Wayne family. Thus; academic rivals to lovers/academic rivals to unlikely friends to lovers.

Excuse me while I do some yapping:

Tims always thought you were cute, if a bit annoying. Always trying, often succeeding to one-up him at any chance, to get a higher grade, to be a class rep or group leader, checking out books from the library before he gets a chance. But for you it's personal. It's ingrained deep in your bones to hate him and his swoopy hair, and his pretty eyes, and his cheeky laugh.

You hate the way he quietly contradicts your statements during lectures, hate his hushed tone as you whisper-argue over it until you get told off.

You even hate the way he rides to classes on that damn skateboard, and how his posture makes his dumb butt look cute.

So when you’re paired together on an important assignment it’s like your world is crumbling, how can you trust him? God, your dads gonna be pissed and sneaking him around is only gonna cause stress which will affect your ability to work.

Basically, you’re expecting the worst.

Which is why it’s so darn surprising when you actually enjoy his company. Confusing even, it goes against everything you believe but he’s actually, nice? Fun?

You stop arguing about who’s wrong during that one class, instead bitching about the professor you both dislike instead.

It takes a while to compromise, but eventually, you find a way to evenly split the workload. For the first few weeks, you take it upon yourself to secretly do his half of the work anyway, but that stops after he impresses you by consistently delivering week after week.

You’re a little harsh in your feedback but he only bites back when you go too far, and eventually, he coaxes an apology from you for being intentionally overly critical. When he doesn’t lord that over you, you start to relax around him.

Sneaking around turns out to be kind of exhilarating, actually. He’s like forbidden fruit. Well, if the forbidden fruit was studying and Eve had to eat the fruit in order to stay in the Garden of Eden. Certainly not any other interpretation of that story.

And he’s pretty flexible about meeting you in places your dad won’t find out about, so long as it’s before sundown. A few times he surprises you by throwing rocks at your window in the middle of the night like he’s John Cusack or some shit just to swap notes and tell you about his latest idea. You’d never tell him but once you got over your paranoia, you actually kind of enjoyed your late nights together.

There’s still witty banter too, you still act like you’re adversaries a lot of the time, but by the end of it, there’s no venom behind your snide remarks. It’s like your inside way of showing affection.

Although he does keep borrowing all your pens and never returning them which is infuriating, but endearingly so. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

When you get your joint grade back on the final submission,obviously you get full marks. You’re not sure what comes over you, but when you find out you pull him in for a tight hug, his hands linger on your hips a little to long, your eyes are drawn to his lips until he speaks;

“So… are we friends now?”

“No.” Embarrassed, you pull back, pushing on his shoulders despite your waists still being joined.

“Oh, well, good. That means it’s okay if I kiss you then.”

“What?! Why would that be okay!?”

“Cause you so clearly want me to kiss you, and doing so won’t ruin our nonexistent friendship.”

You're dad is not gonna like this, but really Tim’s not so bad. Your dad will have to understand. He can’t honestly be mad at Tim for the sins of his adoptive father, right?

[lovelettersforthedamned]

hockey!peter how is it when bug spends the night for the first time because I feel like peter would kinda be like not down for a sleepover at first ? or is that just me

bug spending the night at peter's wasn't intentional. it was the result of intense hate sex that caused the both of them to become so exhausted that they passed out.

it was definitely awkward the morning after though.

✩✩✩

the sun coming from the open curtains woke you up, your eyebrows scrunching in exhaustion. feeling the sheets under you, you eventually bump into another body. tensing, you look over to peter fucking parker next to you, completely naked.

retracting your hand as carefully and quiet as possible, you slowly get out of bed. your jeans are on the floor, along with your socks, shoes, and bra.

no way i just fucked peter parker.

you hear shuffling as you put your legs into the demin, looking over your shoulder, peter's half awake form is looking back at you. "didn't know you were the one night stand type of girl," he yawns.

"i'm not," you look for your shirt, "i'll see you at class. you made me late to my lab that started fifteen minutes ago."

peter finds one of his shirts on the foot of his bed and tosses it towards you, making you look back at him in confusion. he knows it's not your shirt, but he doesn't care, "just take it."

hopping to put on your shoes, you begin to open his bedroom door before turning back to him. "i still hate you, by the way. this doesn't mean anything," you mutter.

his hands come behind his head, a content sigh leaving his lips, "yeah, yeah. i'll see you tomorrow, bug."

[starryeyeddreamer21]

Hazbin Hotel cooking head canons

Alastor: I think we can all agree he's the best cook in the hotel. He would've learned from his mom and enjoys cooking for people because of it. The first few times he cooked for them everyone was a little weary because cannibalism but he made it "vegetarian" so don't worry. Also he hates cooking with other people that spot is reserved for his mother only and everyone learns really fast to not go into the kitchen while he's cooking.

Sir Pentious: An amazing baker but not a great cook, like he can cook and it comes out fine but he always feels like something isn't right. Loves baking with Angel and Nifty. He even tries to teach Charlie how to bake. She makes no progress but he continues to teach her until he ends up in heaven.

Charlie: An absolute disaster like holy shit. Not only will she set the kitchen on fire she will also create the most disgusting food combinations and act like they're completely normal. She's doing her best I swear. She would probably try to take cooking classes but that would just end horribly.

Vaggie: Cannot cook. Everything will come out burnt and underdone at the same time. She's convinced she's cursed.

Angel: Second best cook at the hotel. Learned from his Nona. He used to cook with Molly all the time but hasn't for a while. He just didn't have the energy to cook and it always made him miss his sister too much. Eventually he got more comfortable at the hotel and started cooking again. Now he tries to cook dinner for everyone at least once a week. Loves cooking with other people he just doesn't have the patience to teach them.

Nifty: Is actually a good cook is just terrible at plating. Her food won't look good but the taste would be worth it. There might be a crunch in something that probably shouldn't be crunchy but just try not to think about it too much.

Husk: Would live off microwavable dinners if they let him. He can't cook but he'll eat anything anyone makes him. He's even eaten Charlie's disgusting food combinations like it was nothing. Can probably figure out how to make anything in the microwave if you give him the time.

Cherri: Do NOT let this woman in the kitchen. She will blow the entire place up and then do it again the next day for fun. Has probably figured out how to make bombs out of food idk how but she would.

Lucifer: He's not a bad cook he just doesn't usually have the energy or patience to do it. He prefers to make sweet foods so he'd specialize in breakfast and dessert. He can make other food too he just doesn't as much. It's probably better for him to have supervision while he cooks though. He gets distracted or just bored really easily. He'll space out or leave the room entirely to do something else and completely forget he's cooking. Like he'd be boiling potatoes to make mashed potatoes and then leave the room to do something and get distracted until suddenly he smells burning and runs into the kitchen to find that all the waters evaporated and the potatoes are burning to the bottom of the pot and he has to start over (no this has never happened to me why would you say that). Because of this Lucifer and Angel tend to cook together because Angel prefers cooking with company and they both have a sweet tooth.

Vox: Mostly lives on cup ramen and take out. He cooked once but it was dry unseasoned chicken and was never allowed to cook again. I want to say he'd have expensive taste but he's a workaholic so leftover Chinese food for the third time this week it is. I'm serious though this man hasn't slept in four days, is on the brink of hallucinating, and is surviving off caffeine, three day old leftovers that should definitely not be eaten, and pure unfiltered spite.

Valentino: He's actually a really good cook. The thing is he can't decide if he wants people to be in the kitchen with him or not because he'll be standing at the stove and ask Vox to hand him something and then five minutes later he's yelling because Vox is in his way. It's a very stressful experience for everyone except Valentino who finds it calming.

Velvette: She's pretty average honestly. Like she can cook fine but it's nothing exciting. She loves trying new recipes she sees online but always gets pissed when it doesn't go as planned so then she orders takeout. She's really good at decorating though like she can't bake a cake but she'd decorate it beautifully so that actually works well with Valentino who can't use a piping bag for shit.

[nail-art-no-jutsu]

🎶🌹 Rojuro 'Rose' Otoribashi headcanons 🌹🎶

Soundtrack: Alexis Ffrench - A Time of Wonder

Y'all I'm back on the bleachwagon and I can't stop thinking about this man, I especially love to imagine how he got to where he is, and finally I'm putting all my ideas in one place. So without further ado:

I don't think he grew up in Soul Society, but I definitely think he died at the worst possible time, when he was young and life was good and easy, and he had time to indulge in his hobbies, music in particular

like Toshiro, Rose heard the calling of Kinshara before he knew what it was, he just thought it was just something that happens to artists after they die

but unlike Toshiro, I imagine Rose told everyone, cause he just talks a lot in general lmao, and someone or other must have told him that what he's describing is called a zanpakuto

otherwise he wouldn't have gone and become a Shinigami at all

he was only interested in the training he needed in order to understand this creative force inside of him that he absolutely must express outwardly, and no instrument seems to be good enough

... except for a sword ...

he absolutely hated the Academy though, not enough room for creative freedom, too much structure, no composing daydreaming in class allowed, not to mention how he always got the best ideas for songs he wanted to write while he was in the middle of a training session

the only good thing about the Academy was meeting many of the people he would call friends for way over a hundred years

Rose didn't acquire shikai or even bankai in order to advance in his career or to become more powerful, he did so because it would have been impossible not to

Kinshara is very insistent and when it has something to show him, he has no choice, not that he doesn't absolutely love the experience, it's so magnificent that it moves him to tears of joy, it's ecstatic, it's sensory heaven

Rose: look at this thing I just learned to do, isn't this wonderful? Any of his friends: my dude, that's called a shikai, go apply for the position of Lieutenant. right now!!!!

he goes through a phase where he's uncomfortable with the fact that Kinshara doesn't just entertain, it kills

he'd be a lover not a fighter if it wasn't for how much farther he got artistically after learning to use his love for music for fighting

he overcomes this dilemma by telling himself that it's fine actually because he's one of the good guys, and promising that he'll only blur the line between creation and destruction against opponents who really deserve it

how do you identify that? he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it. don't worry about it

Rose didn't have a good time as a Lieutentant, again, too much structure, but he actually did apply for the position of Captain himself, at least that way he'd get to make the rules and he could take breaks whenever he wanted and procrastinate with his paperwork until he found the perfect background music for it and so on

this did not work out that great, because he had a very hard time working with Iba's mother as his Lieutenant, she had no patience for *gestures towards all of this*, and I also suspect she might have been resentful that someone so carefree ended up as her superior

and to fast forward just for a bit, Izuru is not like that at all, and it's one of the first things that Rose appreciates about him, Izuru does respect structure, but he's not above doing the work in all kinds of unusual ways as long as it gets done

a thing that Rose shares with Shinji is that he's always been interested in what's going on in the world of the living, especially when it comes to music, and then he branched out to literature, philosophy, pop culture, and other things that are referenced in lyrics, that's how he learns about things, even if after that he starts enjoying them for their own sake

I can see them both taking trips to music stores or to concerts on Earth, separately or together, especially when they were supposed to be doing something else

Rose just really needs a lot of enrichment in his enclosure or else he absolutely will wilt and perish, most gracefully, of course~

he is in fact not a snob when it comes to music, he knows the lyrics to songs you'd least expect, and he can appreciate the artistic value of artists or genres that he doesn't really listen to

you wanna rickroll him? nice try, he loves that song

and yeah, this is getting so long someone pls take my keyboard away from me

just kidding, this is way too much fun 💖

[freyadragonlord]

Han Yoojin: the best way to tame beasts - and people! ;) - is through food!

Sung Hyunjae, serving him eggs: that's really clever, Han Yoojin-gun

Han Yoojin: I can surely bond with Chief Taewon if we have a few meals together

Sung Hyunjae, serving him dessert: how brilliant ^^

Han Yoojin: wow this is really good, maybe you're not completely terrible

Sung Hyunjae: ^^

[800db-cloud]

i’ve been wanting to do this since day one

[heartorbit]

HAPPY NEWONDERHOY YEAR 🍡

[junebugtwin]

what if they were happy huh?? what then!!!!

[chocochat]

how do i tell this girl in my ceramics class that i want to be friends without sounding weird 🤔