#these girls are selling so no hate just appreciate

[peachsukii]

Burn Out

『♡』  pro-hero fem!reader  x pro-hero bakugo ╰➤ ꒰ pro-hero au | engaged | aged to 23 | bakugo POV! ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist 

summary: Japan’s #4 Hero, Dynamight, is holding (forced by his agency) a meet and greet with fans - for the fifth time this year - by popular demand. The only difference? It’s three hours longer than the previous four. tags & warnings: fluff, soft bakugo, pro-hero bakugo, reader has a quirk & is also a pro hero, reader & bakugo are engaged! a/n: i thought the idea of reader waiting in line every time he has a meet and greet was such a cute gesture and relaxes him when he’s overwhelmed by fans :) ꒰ Ao3 version | word count; 1,300 ꒱

“I really gotta do this shit for 4 hours?!”

“Sorry, Dynamight. It’s standard hours for meet and greets, plus you get the exposure to retain popularity amongst the public.”

God, what a fuckin’ joke.

How the hell does Deku do this all the time? I’m not a people person, end of story. I’ll sign shit and let them sell it, but actually meeting people? My goddamn nightmare. Especially the damn fan girls, they’re rabid fuckin’ animals. I hate when people only see me a piece of goddamn meat and not a top rated hero.

“Why are you still here?” This agency lady is really pissin’ me off. What the hell else does she want from me?

“Just going over the logistics. You’ll be hosting at a store in Shibuya Crossing from 1PM to 5PM tomorrow. You’ll be doing signatures on pre-approved official photos. We’ll meet at the agency at noon and you’ll get suited up.”

I hate these stupid publicity pricks.

“Can’t I just sign ‘em and you sell ‘em? I really gotta do it in person?”

“No can do, you know the process by now. The hours are just extended to allow as many fans access as we can.”

Why the fuck do fans need “access” to me? They don’t. I’ve got better shit to do.

“Whatever. See ya tomorrow.”

───

It’s almost 1PM and I’m already fuckin’ over being here. Nonstop “do this, not that,” “don’t take too long,” “don’t accept large gifts,” blah blah blah. It’s a damn signing, not a conference, I shouldn’t need to follow some stupid rule book.

“Before settling in for a grueling four goddamn hours, I gotta call my fiancé.”

“Make it fast, you’re set to start in 15.”

Was it an excuse to talk to her? Hell yeah it was. I didn’t need to call her for shit, I needed to get the hell away from that agency lady before I said shit I can’t take back.

Really wish she could sit here with me instead of with the agent with stick up her ass.

───

[y/n] Hey babe, what’s up? I thought your meet and greet was happening now? [Bakugo] Yeah, in 15 minutes. I needed to step out before I sit here for four fuckin’ hours. What are you up to? Sounds like you’re outside or somethin’. [y/n] Nothing really, grocery shopping and boring stuff. Are you nervous? [Bakugo] Me, nervous? Fuck no. I just don’t wanna be here for that long. It’s exhausting. [y/n] I don’t blame you, the last few were much shorter. Do you need me to bring you anything? [Bakugo] Even if you did, I don’t think they’d let me take it from ya. [y/n] That’s so annoying. It’s not like I’m a stranger. [Bakugo] Y’would think so. Fu-dammit, sorry baby, but I gotta cut ya short. This agency bitch has been breathin’ down my neck all week. [y/n] It’s alright. Make sure those fan girls don’t take all of you, I still want my share of the number 4 hero! [Bakugo] Hah, y’know you’re the only one who gets that. I’ll talk to you later baby, love you. [y/n] Love you too, good luck!

───

I. Am. So. Fucking. Tired.

If I hear another person screech over me just looking at them? I’m gonna lose my damn mind - and it’s only 2:30PM.

“Dynamight! You’re my favorite hero, thank you for signing this!”

At least most of the kids that showed up weren’t loud and annoyin’ brats.

“Thanks, appreciate th’ support.”

I’ve signed my name so many damn times that it’s starting to look like gibberish. They wouldn’t even let me use a stamp or some shit like that. Y’think that would appeal to their “access” plan if more people could come and go if it meant signing this shit faster.

───

3:45PM.

Fifteen. More. Minutes.

Exhausted is a goddamn understatement. I don’t wanna talk to anyone for the next 24 hours when this is over.

I’m grabbing the next poster from the agent, tunnel visioned on gettin’ the fuck outta here, when a familiar voice catches my attention.

“Hiya Dynamight!”

I can’t help but laugh. Did she really stand in line this whole time?

“The hell you doin’ here?”

She’s dressed head to toe in my merch - sweatshirt from the winter line, joggers from the athletic set, even her damn shoes are the limited release sneakers from the crossover line with Deku.

“Just supporting my favorite hero. I’d love if you could personalize my poster.”

God, I love this woman.

“Hah, y’got it.”

To my favorite hero, y/h/n, my shining star - love, dynamight

I slide it over the table to her and the look on her face is priceless. Her smile never fails to brighten my day, no matter how shitty it is. Really feels like no one else is here but her in the moment.

“This’ll be worth at least $50 online. Thanks!”

“Hey! That’s special, idiot.”

���I’m kidding, Ka-Dynamight.”

“Did ya wait in line this whole time?”

“I did! I wasn’t shopping earlier, I was in line for you. I wanted to support my soon-to-be husband.”

The high school girl behind her makes a face when she says “husband.” It’s not like our engagement is a damn secret. Can’t help but shoot her a dirty look, hoping she gets the “fuck off” memo.

“Dynamight, 5 minutes until we wrap.”

“Back off! It’s my damn fiancé. I’ll take as long as I want.”

All I wanna do is jump over this table, throw her over my shoulder and blast our way home. Dive onto the couch, crammed together against the cushions and pass the fuck out to the sound of TV static.

“It’s okay, I’ll let you go.”

She leans over the table to whisper, “I’ll see you at home, baby. Love you!”

I don’t really care who hears. I shouldn’t have to fuckin’ whisper to my soon-to-be wife in public.

“Love you too. Thanks, sweets. You’re the best.”

Fuck, her ass looks damn good in those joggers. I’ll never get tired of watching her walk away. The way she sways her hips when she walks is dangerous game for me.

“Alright, Dynamight. Last one.”

Thank fucking god.

“Hey, thanks for-”

“Was that your fiancé?”

These damn high school girls are such a pain in the ass.

“…yes. What of it?”

“Isn’t she, like, number 42 or something super low ranked?”

Not fallin’ for whatever shit she’s trying to pull. I sign the poster and slide it over to her, hoping she shuts the hell up and leaves.

“What, I can’t get a personalized photo like her?”

Well, she asked for it.

“Fine, give it back.”

number 42 and still better than you. fuck you - dynamight

I shove the poster back to her roughly on purpose, crinkling the edge against her stupid long claws-for-nails that were tapping impatiently on the table.

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Learn some damn manners.”

I don't feel any remorse as the stupid agent starts scolding me for "mistreating fans." The brat had it comin', what can I say?

"I'm outta here. Later."

"Wait, Dynamight, you need to -"

"No, I don't. Not my problem. I'm done."

───

Finally, home sweet home. "Hey baby, I'm home."

"Hey Kats! Made you some early dinner on the stove and the blanket is nice and toasty for you."

When did she even have time to do that? It's only been 45 minutes.

"Damn, what are ya, superwoman?"

"Hah, I wish. Have you checked your phone yet?"

"...No, why?"

She laughs. "#dynamight is trending again. Somethin' about you signing 'fuck off' on a fan's poster?"

Oops.

"Yeah, well I -"

"Fuck her, she's lucky I didn't smack her upside the head."

And that's why I'm marrying her.

Just a cute little "Bakugo hates people" fluff lol

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 4

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Our girls go on a lovely date and there's lots of gay tension.

content warnings: none

word count: 3.7k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Kate’s eyes are curious, roaming over Wanda like she’s looking for an answer to the flush on her cheeks and the small smile she keeps trying to stifle. Her brown eyes meet Wanda’s, a silent question in them as the redhead walks up to the group. 

“Hey, you guys,” Wanda says, feeling her blush return when both Vision and Paul look up. “I’m going to head back a little later, but thank you for helping with this photoshoot.”

Vision blushes hotly and stutters as he mumbles something that sounds vaguely like a thank you while Paul just smiles widely at her, his hands moving quickly as he dismantles a tripod. Kate fixes her with a look, before her hand is tight around her upper arm and dragging her towards the corner of the room. 

The feeling of Ms. Romanoff’s eyes on them settle underneath Wanda’s skin, the comfortable weight of those dark green irises causing her heart to pound. She’s acutely aware of the older woman’s gaze, but valiantly directs her focus toward Kate’s imploring gaze.

“So, do you want to tell me why you’re staying here?” Kate asks, scoffing at Wanda’s attempt to feign confusion. “You hate big cities, Wands. Does this have something to do with Ms. I'm-Super-Hot-And-Intimidating over there?”

“Okay, maybe,” Wanda relents, her head snapping up as she processes. “Wait, what did you just call her?”

Kate waves her off, “That’s not important right now. What on earth did Ms. Romanoff say to get you to stay longer?”

“Oh,” Wanda flushes, risking a glance over at the woman. Ms. Romanoff’s green eyes stare intently back at her, the woman’s posture relaxed even as she crosses her arms, those forearms standing out and taking Wanda’s attention away from the conversation at hand. She coughs slightly, turning back to Kate, who regards her with an unamused look.

“She sort of, kind of… asked me out for coffee?”

“Oh my fucking god, Wanda.”

In retrospect, Wanda supposed that was kind of a big deal. After all, from her hours of research on the woman, she couldn’t ever recall Ms. Romanoff ever publicly dating anyone. Obviously the woman was extremely selective in every aspect of her life, given her all-blonde staff and art pieces she’s selected for her office. Wanda wondered what she had that appealed to the woman. 

Shaking off the self-deprecating thoughts that rose around her, Wanda looked back at Kate with a pleading expression. “Please don’t make this a big deal, I'm just… trying something new and putting myself out there.”

Kate’s incredulous look morphed into one of understanding, and she nodded slightly as a spark appeared in her eyes. 

“Alright, but I expect a full debrief when you get back home.” She started walking towards the boys again, pushing Wanda towards the CEO waiting for her near the door. “And that includes every detail, especially if you guys make out.”

Wanda doesn’t have time to berate her, the brunette quickly walking away while simultaneously shoving her further toward the door. She quickly steels herself, taking a shuddering breath and forcing her nerves down until they weren’t a pit on her stomach. 

She could do this. It was just a date, and Wanda had been on dates before. All those dates had been spectacular failures, of course. But, she knew what to expect and what sort of etiquette was appropriate. Plus, she could be cool and interesting when she wanted to be. 

Looking up Wanda made eye contact with Ms. Romanoff again, and stumbled slightly as her gait was thrown off. Yeah, she was really selling the ‘cool’ part of her new act.

Fuck that, Wanda was going to be herself. Obviously it had already started to work on the older woman, and what more did she have to lose?

“Hi,” Wanda says once she’s an arms-length distance from the woman, her voice softer than she’d intended. 

“Hello,” Ms. Romanoff replies, her tone laced with amusement. “Are you ready for our date?”

Flushing Wanda lets herself smile as a giddy feeling rises within her. Hearing the other woman confirm that this was, in fact, a date made her unreasonably happy. “Yes, let's grab coffee, I need some caffeine.”

“As do I.” The comment is casual, but Wanda can sense the undercurrent of warmth beneath it. It’s so different from the cold, detached manner in which Ms. Romanoff had spoken to her friends. This tone is friendly and bordering on familiarity. Wanda immediately wants to hear more of it. 

They walk to the elevator in an anticipatory silence, Wanda trying to come up with something to ask the woman that wasn’t completely lame. Honestly, it’s not like she could just ask the woman what her favorite color was, that was so… pedestrian. 

Wait. Why couldn’t she ask? Because she thought Ms. Romanoff would think her childish or immature for asking such a simple question? Wanda had only been around the woman for a total of around 45 minutes, but she knew the woman wasn’t one to judge on something so simple. 

“So, what’s your favorite color?”

Ms. Romanoff pauses, her fingers inches from the elevator button. She seems to shake herself, pressing the button before turning her body towards Wanda, regarding her intently. Wanda feels herself flush, sure that she’s just made a mistake, but holds the woman’s gaze resolutely. 

“Nobody has ever asked me that,” she says, her dark green eyes searching Wanda’s for a moment. Then, she smiles softly. It’s genuine and small, but Wanda’s heart swells at the sight of it gracing her lips. 

“My favorite color is burgundy, a darker shade of red.” 

“Mine is Carmine, a bit lighter in shades, but still red,” Wanda responds, smiling at the wonder in Natasha’s eyes. 

“Well, what a happy coincidence. We’ll never fight over color palettes,” Ms. Romanoff says, her eyes sparkling. 

Chuckling, Wanda nods. “I’m a fan of dark, earthy tones. If you couldn’t tell from my wardrobe.” She gestures towards her outfit, and Ms. Romanoff’s eyes travel down her green shirt and dark brown pants. They linger for just a second too long to be friendly, and Wanda doesn't find herself minding all that much. 

“I’m also a fan of a darker color palette, if you couldn’t tell from my office.” Those dark green eyes are shining with amusement, and Wanda just smirks as she remembers the muted tone of black and white. 

“We can work on adding some variety to your workspace,” Wanda counters, and a delighted look springs into the CEO’s eyes at the light-hearted jab. 

Those delicious, dark-red stained lips open to counter, but the elevator chooses that exact moment to arrive. The echoing ding startles Wanda, and she blinks as the doors open. 

Inside the elevator, a couple springs apart, their lips puffy and eyes wide. The girl’s face is flushed, and the young man next to her has mussed hair and his hands in front of his body, attempting to conceal his reaction to the obviously passionate make-out session they’d stumbled upon.

“After you,” Ms. Romanoff smirks and gestures with her hand, and Wanda flushes at the manners as she steps into the elevator. As the older woman moves into the small space after her, Wanda bites her lip at the smell of cinnamon wafting over her. There isn’t much room with the other couple, and she feels warmth spread throughout her entire body as Ms. Romanoff’s shoulder presses against hers. 

The air is still, the atmosphere awkwardly silent. The other couple stares guilty at the floor, and when Wanda risks a glance to her right, Ms. Romanoff has a hint of a smirk dancing on her lips. Unfortunately, the hotel the rich CEO picked doesn't play trashy elevator music, so they descend the floors to the tune of embarrassed silence and smooth jazz. 

Wanda struggles to keep a straight face and breathes a sigh of relief as the doors open on the ground floor. To her surprise, Ms. Romanoff takes her hand, lacing her cool fingers with Wanda’s. Pulling her with her, she strides confidently out towards the front door. 

“What is it with elevators,” The woman remarks in that low, raspy voice of hers, seemingly oblivious to Wanda’s stunned silence. She can feel her heartbeat racing, warmth flooding through her from where Ms. Romanoff’s hand is clasped against her own. The suppressed giggles of the couple sound out from behind them, but Wanda pays them no mind. 

Truly, the most attractive thing about Ms. Romanoff is her quiet, self-assured confidence. Wanda admires the way she walks with her head high, her words sharp but not unkind. She expects the best and doesn't accept any less, and Wanda once again wonders where she fits into the puzzle of the woman’s life. 

Outside, the sun is shining, a cool breeze making its way through Wanda’s hair as Ms. Romanoff gently pulls her towards the sidewalk. They walk for a bit, chatting about specific shades that make up the perfect color palette, when Wanda realizes something. 

No one has ever held Wanda’s hand, not like this. Ms. Romanoff hasn’t made any moves to remove her fingers, lacing them with Wanda’s as if it’s the easiest, most natural thing in the world. Wanda feels lightheaded with giddiness. 

Is this what it feels like to be with someone who’s not ashamed or afraid to show her off?

They reach the coffee shop, and Ms. Romanoff slowly removes her hand from Wanda’s as she opens the door. She holds it open, and Wanda marvels once again at her impeccable manners as she’s ushered through the door. 

Stopping a few feet away from the start of the line, Wanda looks around as she attempts to gain her bearings. The coffee shop is large, the menu expansive and the music low as the sound of low voices fills the espresso-scented air. 

Ms. Romanoff stops just behind her and Wanda shudders involuntarily at the feeling of the woman pressing against her gently. 

“Why don’t you go find us a seat and I’ll order. What would you like?” 

Holy fuck. 

The sound of the CEO’s low words send a shiver down Wanda’s spine, an unknown feeling pooling in her gut. She can feel warm breath hitting her ear as the woman speaks, and knows that if she were to turn her head, those tempting lips would be mere inches from her face. God, she wants to turn her head, to see if the woman behind her would get just as flustered as she is at the sight of her lips close to hers. 

Wanda turns her head, hearing a sharp intake of breath as her eyes find Ms. Romanoff’s. The woman’s body has gone rigid, her eyes locked on Wanda’s lips for a second too long to be a mistake. Then, slowly, she drags her gaze up towards Wanda’s. It’s purposeful and intent, the heat of those eyes sending flashes of electricity shooting straight to Wanda’s core. 

Suddenly remembering the question she’d just been asked, Wanda speaks, keeping her voice low. This moment feels too personal, too… intimate to ruin.

“I’d like an iced chai with vanilla, please.” 

“A wonderful order,” Ms. Romanoff remarks, her eyes glancing down again, catching Wanda doing the same thing. Her smirk widens. “I’m partial to a hot mocha with cinnamon powder, myself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wanda murmurs, before she takes a deep breath and brushes her hand against the older woman’s waist. It’s light, her fingers barely applying any pressure, but the daring move has Ms. Romanoff’s eyes darkening and her tongue darting out to wetten those tantalizing lips. 

Leaning in slightly, Wanda hears the CEO’s breath hitch slightly. “I’ll go find us a seat.”

Pulling away, Wanda registers the shocked look on Ms. Romanoff’s face and grins to herself as she finds a quiet table near the window. She watches the woman from under her lashes, taking in the confident stance and light flush on her cheeks. A part of Wanda feels immensely proud that she was the one who caused that sort of reaction to the well-put-together woman. 

She wants to find every crack in that perfect facade and reveal them until Ms. Romanoff’s truest self is revealed, and she’s found one way to do so. Who knew that the woman was so thrown off by a little teasing? 

Wanda muses that Ms. Romanoff probably doesn’t expect teasing in return, given that most of the advances made so far between them have been made exclusively by the older woman. She’s deep in thought when a cup is placed before her, the comforting scent of chai reaching her nose as she blinks in surprise.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Flushing, Wanda racks her brain for an appropriate response. She couldn’t very well say, oh I was just thinking about if you would moan if I squeezed your hip, or if you get flustered when your bottom lip is bitten, or if you’re as controlling in the bedroom as you are in real life. She couldn’t say that, so instead she made something up. 

“I was wondering what type of perfume you wear.”

“Oh?” Ms. Romanoff gracefully takes her seat, raising a single eyebrow at her. It’s a silent command to continue, and Wanda chooses her next words carefully, not wanting to accidentally offend the woman. 

“You smell like cinnamon, which isn’t a common perfume scent,” Wanda begins, noticing the way Ms. Romanoff sits back in her chair as she regards her with interest. “So I was thinking about what sort of perfume you wear.”

“And did you come to a conclusion?”

“I did not.”

Ms. Romanoff hums in response, smiling as she sips her mocha. She doesn’t offer an answer, and Wanda doesn’t ask further. She’ll let the woman keep her secrets for now. 

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Wait. What?

“Who?” Wanda asks, confused. 

“The photographer.”

Ms. Romanoff’s relaxed pose tells a story of indifference, but the tenseness on her face and the way her eyes search Wanda’s tell a completely different tale. 

“Vision?” Wanda shakes her head, sipping her chai as she scoffs. “No, he’s not my boyfriend.”

“I sense derision.”

“Well, he’d like to be my boyfriend,” Wanda explains. “But I don’t…”

There’s a moment of silence, and Ms. Romanoff leans forward. Her attention is solely focused on Wanda, but instead of intimidated, she feels rather comforted. 

“You don’t, what?” The words are gentle, and Wanda takes another sip of her chai while blushing. 

“I don’t like him that way,” she finally says. It’s not the answer she really wanted to give, but it’s the one she feels comfortable saying. Ms. Romanoff nods once, understanding dawning on her features. She seems satisfied with Wanda’s response and doesn’t inquire anymore about Vision and his obvious crush on her. 

“How do you feel about me?” Ms. Romanoff asks, and Wanda nearly chokes on her drink. She hadn’t expected such a straightforward question, but after looking at the serious expression on Ms. Romanoff’s face, she decides to match the woman’s brutal honesty.

“I find you intimidating,” Wanda says, before she flushes and gazes intently at the lid of her chai cup. This cafe uses a strawless lid, one with an extra-wide mouth. She supposes they’re probably doing it for the sake of the environment. 

“You should,” Ms. Romanoff replies. “I appreciate the honesty, but please, don’t look away when I’m speaking to you. I like to see your face.” 

“I- you… like to see my face?”

“You have a wide range of expressions, it’s cute,” Ms. Romanoff smirks, her eyes glancing pointedly at Wanda’s reddening cheeks. “You’re a mystery to me, Wanda.”

“Oh?” Wanda asks, curious. She leans forward, “How am I the mystery between the two of us?”

Ms. Romanoff smiles at that, setting her drink on the table between them as she tilts her head. “You’re self-contained, you only show the world what you think it wants to see, not what you truly are.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“Ah yes, but the difference between the two of us is that I’m a well-known public figure. Having an air of aloofness and mystery is essentially part of the job description. You, however, have the freedom to be whoever you want to be, to interact with the world however you choose. And yet, you remain private.”

Wanda blinks at the assessment, and Ms. Romanoff leans back in a manner that could be read as smug, if not for the gentle smile on her face. 

“Do you offer up personal observations like that?” 

“Are you offended?”

“No,” Wanda says slowly, considering what she was about to say. “But I have an observation of my own.”

There’s a spark of interest, and a bit of challenge in Ms. Romanoff’s dark green eyes. “Go on.”

“You like control.”

“I do,” she nods, “I exercise control in every aspect of my life, Wanda.”

“Including the part where you haven’t offered to let me call you by your first name?”

“Exactly.” Ms. Romanoff’s tone is far too smug for Wanda’s liking. God, the audacity of this woman. Everything about her screamed that she was in control of this conversation. Why did Wanda find that so hot?

The refusal to let Wanda call her by her first name was just another element of her control. Another way to show Wanda that they were not yet on the same playing field. And honestly, Wanda would’ve cared more if she didn’t find the power dynamic so appealing.

“What does your sister do?” Wanda asks, and judging by the way Ms. Romanoff’s eyebrows fly up, the woman is caught extremely off guard. Ha. Take that, Wanda can ask invasive questions too.

“She teaches a professional martial arts class in New York.” The response is clipped, short. Evidently, Ms. Romanoff isn’t pleased with the personal change of topic. 

“I’ve always wanted to visit New York,” Wanda says, and interest sparks in those green eyes across from hers, any signs of earlier irritation long gone. 

“It’s beautiful, especially in the fall.”

They sit in a comfortable silence for a while, with Wanda eyeing the long fingers on Ms. Romanoff’s hand as it rests near the center of the small table. It would be so easy to reach over and rest her hand next to it, but Wanda’s never been that bold. So instead, she sits and sips her chai and wishes she had to bravery to grab Ms. Romanoff’s hand the same way the woman had in the elevator. 

As they chat about lighter topics, Wanda notices that Ms. Romanoff’s knee is slowly pressing against hers underneath the table. She’s in the middle of talking about her finals when she first notices it, her words halting for a brief moment before Ms. Romanoff tilts her head slightly, prompting her to continue. 

It’s infuriating, and Wanda tries to suppress the heat that coils in her stomach with each passing second as she feels the pressure of Ms. Romanoff’s steady knee increase. It’s comforting, it’s arousing, and it’s throwing Wanda off balance. 

Well, Wanda can give the same energy right back. 

“So do you have a girlfriend?”

It doesn’t work. Ms. Romanoff remains as cool and collected as ever, the only evidence of surprise shown by her raised eyebrow. 

“If I was in a relationship, I would not have asked you out on a date, Ms. Maximoff.”

“So this is an official date?”

“It is.” Ms. Romanoff’s eyes sparkle with amusement, and Wanda smiles slightly.

“Just making sure,” she mumbles, finishing her chai. “Did it go well? Did I pass the test?”

“What test?”

To her credit, Ms. Romanoff sounds genuinely confused. Wanda immediately wishes she could take it back, but instead lets her mouth start talking without thinking. 

“I just meant… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve been trying to pass some sort of test to be worthy of your presence ever since the interview.”

“Well,” dark green eyes find hers, shining with sincerity. “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel that way. I am genuinely interested in you, Ms. Maximoff. I want us to be on an even playing field as we get to know each other, hence this public coffee shop.”

“Oh.” Wanda doesn’t quite know what to say, but something inside her chest settles. She smiles instead, that giddy feeling rising once again as she meets Ms. Romanoff’s eyes. Fuck, the older woman is so effortlessly beautiful. 

Standing, Ms. Romanoff offers her hand. “Shall we?”

Chuckling slightly, Wanda takes the offered hand, blushing at the comforting grip of Ms. Romanoff’s fingers clasped around her own. It feels so natural, her fingers interlocked with the older woman’s, and Wanda finds herself leaning into her. 

They walk back towards the hotel, their pace slow and perfectly in sync with each other. Ms. Romanoff’s cinnamon perfume gently wafts toward Wanda, enveloping her mind in a comforting sort of haze. She’s struck with the sudden desire to know everything about the other woman, to break through that outer shell and reveal the complex person she knows is buried deep within her. 

However, even Wanda knows that it’s too early to discover the secrets of Ms. Romanoff. So, instead, she turns towards the woman once they reach her car, and leans in. 

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” 

Ms. Romanoff lets out a small huff, her eyes closing briefly to avoid looking at Wanda’s lips, which are about an inch away from her own. 

“Ms. Maximoff, please refrain from teasing me.”

“Or what?”

Wanda barely has any time to gloat in the first crack she’s made to Ms. Romanoff’s facade before she’s being pushed backward and pressed against the side of her car. Those strong hands are on either side of her, trapping her between her car and the woman before her. She can see those muscles flexing underneath the silky fabric of Ms. Romanoff’s shirt, and hears her own shaky breaths as the woman leans in. 

Her lips are mere centimeters away, and Wanda is filled with the urge to taste them. God, they’re so… fucking… close…

“Or I will have to retaliate until you break and crumble beneath me.”

It’s official, Wanda is fucked.

Next Chapter

---

Dm or comment to be added!

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[alley-cc]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x plus-sized reader

Description: Car for sale. Serious offers only.

Note: F!reader, allusion to stalking at the end.

Simon had never been fussed with his car. He hardly used it. Over time the missions he went on got longer and longer. The breaks in between shorter and shorter. So why keep it? It was a decent car - low kilometres, the interior mostly still intact despite its age and a presentable exterior. He'd written a short description and uploaded the grainy, too-far zoomed-in images which are halfway covered by Simon's finger. The asking price only being $2500. A quick and easy sell.

A call from Price whisks him away to another far longer-than-preferred mission. Simon promptly forgot about the advertisement until the dust had settled and he was on his way home. He wades through various offers and spam bots, turning his nose up at everyone but one. You.

Your profile says too much about you. You're an open book to him, even through the small pixilated screen. Your gorgeous smile, pretty eyes, soft and round body just begging to be touched by his hands. Your response to the ad was simple and sweet.

Hello! Hope you're doing well. I was wondering if your car was still available?

You had only sent the message a few days ago. He knows he has to act quickly to reel you in. He shoots you a reply - short and sharp. He sends you his address and a time for you to meet. And you. Sweet, innocent you. Happily accepts.

The afternoon couldn't come quicker. It had been months since he had a sweet soft thing in his hands. Pliable. Mouldable. Beautiful. You stand on his doorstep, hand half raised to knock on the door when he opens it. You look even better in real life. He's tall enough to look down at you, eyes immediately drawn to your cleavage. He doesn't linger for too long, instead opting to inspect the rest of you as you happily chatter away. An ass that would fit in his hands plus some. Good for sharing - his mind wanders to Johnny. He'd be able to appreciate you in all your glory. A thought for later.

He turns his attention to the words that spill for your delicious looking lips. "I've been going through a rough patch. So, I was wondering if the price is negotiable..." you innocently ask. Simon tilts his head at you. Poor thing. Down on your luck and desperate. Big wide eyes basically begging him to knock a decent amount of money off the final price.

"No." Simon barks out. He didn't need the money, didn't even want it. But. He wanted to see you beg. Squirm under his harsh gaze. You shift uneasily and bite those pretty lips. "Can I take it for a drive first?" you ask tentatively. Simon shakes his head, "You either take it or leave it.".

You nod quickly, "I..I'll take it." you stammer out. Simon lets out an approving hum, taking the money you practically throw at him. He doesn't either bother to count it, letting you walk away. Soft, grabbable hips swaying and the gentle breeze causes your dress to flutter around you. He's eyes immediately locking on to the back of your tantalising thighs. Thighs he can't wait to have wrapped around his head as he indulges in you. What was that one saying? He hates to let you leave but loves to watch you go.

He watches you bend over as you adjust the driver's seat to your liking. Your dress riding up just enough to show the edges of you lace panties. Pretty girl - wore them just for him.

You get into his car, flashing him a timid smile before making a quick escape. What you failed to notice and he failed to mention was the incredibly small tracker he had implanted deep within the guts of the car. A little treasure hidden away in a place your pretty mind wouldn't think to look. It's little trinket Laswell gifted him.

After all, he wants to keep an eye on you his property.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Does this makes sense? Hopefully. Drink water and stay gorgeous you beautiful souls. Mwah xx

[teapartyprincess4two]

Shopaholic- C. Sturniolo

pairing: Shopaholic!reader x boyfriend!Chris

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, established relationship, high maintenance reader, some suggestive content, sexual comments but no smut, small argument, slight cursing, shopping addiction, consumerism, hoarder tendencies, Chris can drive in this (bc I feel bad for him)

summary: No matter how hard you try, you just can’t stop swiping your card.

—

Your shopping addiction began innocently, just you and your friends occasionally going out in search of a new outfit for a party or special event. Slowly it became a hobby and you were spending multiple weekends at the mall trying to find something new. After a while it became your job and you were posting fashion videos on Instagram for other girls to follow and selling clothes on Depop for people who wanted to dress like you. Then it became an addiction, all you wanted to do was swipe your card and you couldn’t stop.

You’re currently on one of your many shopping sprees with your boyfriend Chris who you’ve dragged along against his will. He loves spending time with you, but he really, really hates shopping. In his opinion you do it too often and spend too much money, but he’s not the type to yuck anyone’s yum. Shopping is also socially draining for him, every time he joins you he finds himself dreading every second of it.

He stumbles behind you as you enter the 10th store of the day, his hands struggling to hold all the bags you dumped on him. “Y/n, let’s go home!” He groans, adjusting the bags further up his arm. You ignore him, going straight towards the back of the store where the clearance is. Just cause you love to shop and spend money doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate a good deal.

Chris groans and trudges behind you, accidentally knocking over some of the displays as the bags swing back and forth. He remembers a time when you weren’t such a shopaholic, a time when spending time with you meant going to the movies or out to lunch. Now, ever since gaining this new hobby, all you two seem to do is shop.

“Look at this, Chris! It’s so cute!” You exclaim, holding a red top against your chest so he can imagine you in it. He can’t help but roll his eyes, “you have that exact top already.” You huff, looking at the top again. “Oh you’re right,” you put the shirt back on the rack and continue looking for the next item you’ll add to your closet.

Chris watches as you struggle to find something new, probably because you have everything already. “You have all of this stuff already, babe. You don’t need anything else,” he says, attempting to lead you out of the store, but you’re strong willed and extremely determined to find at least one thing.

“I haven’t checked over here though,” you respond, walking in a completely opposite direction from the exit. He groans in annoyance as you disappear to the back of the story again. He gives up, there’s obviously no getting through to you. So, he sits on a bench outside the store as he waits for you to finish.

Chris occupies himself on his phone, completely surrounded by shopping bags full of clothes that you were sure to only wear once or twice and then resell on your Depop. After 30 minutes you walk out of the store with another 5 bags in hand, a huge smile on your face as you walk over to Chris. He wants to facepalm at the sight of you because he still doesn’t understand your obsession with spending so much money.

“Okay I’m ready to go home now,” you say with a smile, standing in front of Chris as he grabs all your previous bags. Once he gets up, he gives you a quick peck on the lips and immediately leads you out of the mall and to the car. If he takes a second longer you might second guess it and enter another store. He absolutely couldn’t bear the thought of another hour shopping.

Once you’re finally at the car you both load your bags into the trunk, it’s so overfilled that you struggle to close it. You get frustrated and get in the car, allowing Chris to deal with the problem. He’s a little annoyed, but he’s mostly glad to be going home. He works his magic, moving some bags into the middle seat so he can properly close the trunk before hopping into the drivers seat.

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” He asks, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the busy streets. “Yeah, I can eat,” you reply, messing with the radio as you connect your phone to the car’s bluetooth. You were grateful that your boyfriend was so willing to spend time shopping with you despite it being his least favorite thing to do. So, you play his playlist for him in hopes that he won’t be too annoyed with you. One of his favorite songs blares loudly through the speakers immediately causing him to bop his head as he merges through traffic.

Chris turns the radio up, belting the lyrics to every song by heart. He is singing at the top of his lungs, looking towards you as he dedicates the lyrics of the love songs that play. You laugh, singing along with him when you know the words. Finally, he pulls up to his favorite restaurant, kissing you sweetly once the car is in park.

“We ate here last week,” you comment, grabbing all your things and shoving them into your purse. He sends you a warning look, a look that says ‘don’t start with me.’ A look that says, ‘I just spent hours carrying around your bags, let me have this ONE thing.’

You get the hint and put your arms up in defense, “You’re right sorry, babe.”

—

After eating, the two of you head back to your apartment. You work together to carry in the multitude of bags you accumulated throughout your shopping trip. Considering how late it is, most people would just dump everything near the front door and leave it for another day. Not you though, you’re too excited to try everything on.

Once you’re in your room, you immediately take everything out of the bags excitedly. Chris watches you attentively from your bed. You look like a kid on Christmas morning. He looks around your room, fully taking in the amount of things you’ve collected ever since acquiring this new hobby. He wouldn’t categorize you as a hoarder, but he can definitely tell that you have a shopping problem.

You sprawl all the clothes out onto the floor, crumpling bags and receipts in the process. Chris decides this is the perfect time for an intervention, “Y/n, you have too much stuff.” You look up from the piles of clothes in front of you, sending him an ugly look, “Chris, there is no such thing as too much stuff.” He rolls his eyes at your sassy attitude, getting up from the bed and walking over to your closet.

Chris opens the closet door dramatically, the slam of the door ringing through your room. Your closet is filled to the brim with clothes, shoes, purses, and you even have boxes labeled with seasonal clothes. “There is such a thing,” he retorts, not even looking into your closet because he knows his point has been made. You knew you had a problem, but you just couldn’t stop yourself from spending money when you found something cute.

“Babe you haven’t even worn half of this stuff,” Chris comments again with a laugh as he begins flipping through your closet. To be fair, you were extremely organized to the point that it felt like he was in a department store, but that still didn’t justify the amount of things you had. “That’s not true! Plus I’m selling some of it… eventually,” you mutter the last part, mostly because you don’t want to get rid of anything yet. “When was the last time you wore this?” He asks as he takes a random shirt off the rack, holding it out for you to see.

You get up from the floor, yanking the shirt from him dramatically. “I wore this on our first date,” you lie, trying to act offended. He rolls his eyes again at your attempt to pull at his heart strings, he knows you’re lying. “Y/n that shirt literally still has the tag on it,” he tugs at the tag, wagging it in your face. You could fool anyone, but not Chris. He knew you well enough to realize that you had a problem.

“Whatever, but I’m still going to wear it soon. I just haven’t found the right time. Plus I kept the tag on in case I want to sell it on Depop,” your words come out a mile a minute as you try to justify this addiction that’s gotten out of hand. He knows there’s no winning with you, especially not when shopping is involved, so he just sighs dramatically and goes back to his spot on your bed.

After a while Chris becomes occupied by his phone, not interested in the previous topic anymore. Since he’s not pestering you anymore, you try on all the clothes you purchased today. Occasionally you’ll ask him for his opinion on something, but he just gives you half-ass replies. Even if he thinks you look great in everything you try on he doesn’t say it because he can’t encourage this behavior or you’ll never stop.

“I’m tired,” he yawns, kicking his shoes off and turning his phone off, placing it on your bedside table. He has to balance it on top of all the other trinkets on your table. Chris was hoping you two would do other things tonight, but you were too distracted by all tour new stuff to care about him. “Sleep baby, I’ll be done in a bit,” you reply as you organize all the clothes into your closet.

Chris groans in annoyance, grabbing some of his spare clothes from one of your drawers. Even his drawer was filled with your stuff. Granted this wasn’t his house, but it was the singular drawer he had for himself here. He quickly changes, throwing his dirty clothes in a random corner of your room before going to the restroom to brush his teeth.

When he returns he finds you dressed and ready for bed. “You finally done being a princess?” He asks playfully, wrapping his arms around your waist slowly so he can pull you into him. You roll your eyes as you drape your arms around his neck, “a princess’s job is never done.” Chris chuckles at this, leaning in for a kiss.

—

“The movie starts in an hour,” Chris says as he walks into your room, taking a seat on your bed. You’re currently doing your makeup, adding all the finishing touches. “I’m almost done, I just have to do my hair,” you reply, popping your lips as you apply a thick layer of lip gloss. You’ve been getting ready for hours, how is your hair still not done? “It looks good like that, babe. C’mon we’re gonna be late,” he replies in a whiny tone as he attempts to convince you that the movie was more important than your hair. In his opinion it actually looked good, but he knows you won’t be easily swayed.

You give him a blank stare through the mirror, “Chris I CANNOT go like this.” You pick a few strands of hair up, shaking them in the air. He laughs at this, deciding to just let you have your way. “Fine, but be quick please.” He gets up for your bed, walking over you and kissing your cheek quickly before heading back to the living room.

After another 30 minutes you’re finally done, tugging your shoes on quickly and grabbing your purse as you rush out of your room. Chris was waiting for you patiently in the living room, the amount of patience that man has for you is astonishing. He takes a quick look at you and before you can ask if you look okay he says, “you look sexy, let’s go.” Of course he means it, but he can’t gush over your appearance for too long or you’ll miss the movie. You roll your eyes, following behind him as he rushes to the car.

You arrive at the movie theater 5 minutes before the movie starts, grabbing a bucket of popcorn and a large drink to share as quick as possible before rushing to find your seats. Despite the lack of time management on your part, Chris is still excited to be doing something that doesn’t involve walking around the mall for hours on end.

“You good?” Chris whispers to you during the middle of the movie, popping a couple of pieces of popcorn in his mouth. You hum in response, leaning in for a quick kiss. He tastes like salt and butter. When you break from the kiss he smiles at you before turning back to the movie.

In reality you were really bored. Chris chose the movie and has been excited to watch it for a long time. You wanted to protest and suggest a different movie, but he’s always putting up with your nonsense so you decided to let him have this one thing. You watch as the characters on screen engage in dialogue and you have no idea what the context behind it is. You look back at Chris, hoping to catch his attention, but he’s too immersed in the plot to notice.

You huff in annoyance, turning back to the screen and attempting to enjoy the remainder of the movie. But no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to find the movie interesting. Before you know it your hands begin to wander onto Chris’s thigh, lingering there for a while before slowly inching up towards his crotch. He sends you a warning look, squeezing your hand and placing it further back up his thigh. You repeat your actions, but are met with the same response from Chris.

Another huff of annoyance leaves your mouth. You’ll just have to watch the rest of the movie and pretend you know what’s going on.

—

The movie ends and Chris looks like he’s just watched the best thing on Earth. “That was such a crazy ending,” he comments, standing from his seat with the popcorn bucket still in hand. You grab the drink and do the same, holding his hand as he leads you out of the theater. “Who was that big guy? The guy at the end,” you ask, tossing the soda away.

Chris halts in his steps, turning towards you in shock. “The main character?! Y/n were you even watching?!” He exclaims in disbelief, the whole movie was about that specific character. “Oh right,” you reply, pretending to remember the entire plot of the movie. Chris gives you a dumbfounded look, tossing the popcorn bucket away. You smile at him, he definitely knows you weren’t paying attention throughout the entire movie.

He holds your hand as he leads you towards the car, both of you getting in and deciding on your next destination. The night is still young and you’re really hoping that Chris will take you to a new store you heard about. "Baby, there's this new store I heard about on TikTok. Do you think you can take me?" you ask sweetly, batting your eyelashes and everything.

It doesn't work, "Y/n, no."

"Pleaseeeee. I promise I'm just going to look around, I won't buy anything, I promise," you plead as he pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving home. He doesn't budge so you decide to pull out the big guns, “I’ll suck your dick.” This seems to do it because he changes direction before replying with a quick, “fine.”

You’re now in the store, your eyes lighting up at the racks of clothes in front of you. Now that you’re in here you regret promising not to buy anything, it’s not like he expected you to keep that promise anyway. “I’m gonna go this way,” you say excitedly, dragging Chris along with you as you head towards the back of the store.

As you look through the racks of clothing, Chris is talking nonstop about the movie. Occasionally you’ll reply, but you don’t remember enough details about the movie to say anything worthwhile. You’re obviously not paying attention and after a while he becomes annoyed, “Y/n, are you even listening?”

You hum in response, adjusting the stack of clothes that was resting against your arm. “I am, baby. Keep talking,” you reply haphazardly, adding yet another shirt to your growing pile. Chris glares at you, but decides to continue sharing his thoughts on the movie.

You’re still not paying attention. He’s asked you at least 5 questions and has received nothing in response, not even a hum. “I’m going to wait in the car,” he says annoyed. You look up at him briefly with a small smile, “okay, babe. I’m almost done.” Chris rolls his eyes as he walks out of the store and to the car.

After an hour you’re finally done, walking out of the store with 3 bags full of clothes. Did you need any of it? No. Did you want all of it? Yes. You tap on the car window and signal for Chris to open the trunk. He complies with a straight face. You dump all your bags into the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat.

“Thank you for waiting,” you say, going in for a quick kiss. “Mmhmm,” he replies as he dodges you causing your kiss to land on his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” you ask innocently.

He doesn’t hold back, he doesn’t have to with you. “You know what’s funny? How I always do what you want to do and the one time we do what I want to do, the ONE time, you can’t even be bothered to pretend to care.” You two don’t make a habit of arguing, but your recent behavior has gotten out of hand. He feels like you’ve been so selfish lately and he has to get everything he’s feeling off his chest.

You’re about to reply, but he’s not done, “For once it would be nice if my girlfriend treated me like her boyfriend, not like a fucking butler. You only want me around to carry your damn bags and swipe my damn card.” That last part wasn’t true, you never asked him to buy you things, but the thought of him as your butler was slightly amusing.

You decide to stay silent, wanting to see how he really feels. “Like, can you at least try to pretend to care about what I have to say? You weren’t even listening to me in there! I get it if you’re bored, Y/n. I really do,” he takes a deep breath before continuing. “But don’t you think I get bored following you around the stupid mall all the time? That’s all we fucking do!”

You open your mouth to speak, but he still isn’t done, “It’s not like you need any more stuff anyways. You literally have a problem, Y/n!”

The car goes silent for a while as you wait just in case another rant was coming. It would be easy to get offended at Chris’s little outburst, but you understood where he was coming from. He was such a great boyfriend who always worked towards keeping you happy and you were ignoring him in the store.

“Are you done?” you ask with a small chuckle.

“Are you done?” he mocks. “Am I done? Yes im fucking done.”

The whole situation seemed ridiculous, especially considering that you two never argue. If this is the biggest problem in your relationship, it’s an easy fix. “I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t care,” you start, pausing in case he feels the sudden urge to interrupt. He looks at you expectantly, he knows he deserves an apology and if he deems it good enough then maybe he’ll apologize for being so harsh with you.

“Next time you don’t have to come shopping with me if you don’t want to and if it makes you feel better, I’ll stop,” you say, feeling a slight pain in your heart at the thought of never shopping again. “It would actually,” he mumbles with his arms crossed over his chest. He would never actually make you stop shopping, you were spending your own money and he had no right to tell you what to do with it. You chuckle at his sassiness before continuing, “and you’re right, I don’t need any more stuff.”

“Yeah, I am right.”

“Alright you’re pushing it, buddy,” you chuckle. He looks at you as he tries to hold in his laughter. “I was a little dramatic, sorry,” he admits, offering you an apologetic smile. “A little? You called yourself my butler.” He laughs again at this, but he goes back to his serious tone from before as he says, “Y/n, you actually have a problem though.”

“I know,” you reply in defeat. “Here just take it,” you hand him your wallet, looking away dramatically.

“I’ll hold onto this for safe keeping,” he jokes, putting it in his pocket. You were sure to go through his things later and find it anyways. He knows this won’t last and that’s okay, your shopping addiction isn’t actually harming anyone.

“As you should, my butler. Now take me home,” you command with a clap of your hands. He laughs, putting the car in drive. “You’re going to call me that from now on, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

This was sitting in the drafts for a while.

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[luffyvace]

Saiki k x Reader headcanons

This is on my anime’s I write for list and I haven’t written for it yet so I wanted to show what I can do! 😉

Enjoy!! I Love Saiki, Aren and Aiura 💗💜💛

Okay let’s face it

your regular.

average.

literally. (probably) like you are irl

doesn’t it feel good to have reader be accurate to how you are for once?

and that your fav would genuinely be into that and you know it?!

like you don’t have to pretend or imagine to be this cool, physically strong person your not for once?? Just me?

idk but it sure is refreshing

especially since it’s canon with saiki after he practically stalked that one dude

anyway onto the headcanons

I wanna start off by saying Saiki’s love languages are gift giving and quality time

the best part about gift giving is he could just leave it on your desk or night stand and watch your reaction from afar

they’re always very thoughtful since he can read your mind :) which is a plus!

and as for quality time he finds it quite peaceful to be around someone who’s not such a weirdo for once

and even if you are one, for some reason he can tolerate your strange behavior way better than he can your friends 😂

it’s always fun to play that one video game he has together

and it’s practically a requirement that every saiki k hcs have—you two will eat coffee jelly together

he would at least want you to try it and if you don’t like it’s that’s fine more for him

He’ll just get you whatever sweet, savory or spicy food you like so you can both enjoy something (and someone 💋) you love together!~

his mother absolutely adores you and is always pestering Saiki about when you’ll be back again

his dad thinks your a “good kid” (🗿) (like every dad says 😭)

Saiki loves to go on walks together

What he doesn’t like is when something chaotic happens to ruin it

but that’s besides the point—he loves to walk to school together!

nothing like getting up every day and seeing your lover. Going on a romantic walk too?*chefs kiss* 💋👩‍🍳

will try to indulge in your interests and hobbies to keep you happy

you may or may not be a introvert like him

if you aren’t he’ll go out and hang out with friends even if that’s outside of his comfort zone for you

but do remember to cut him some slack if he doesn’t want to or wants to go home early <3

and if your an introvert? Wonderful!

99.99% of dates are spent at either of your rooms (not just houses cuz parents are annoying)

or at that one shop that sells the coffee jelly he likes

only if you agree of course

if you prefer something even more private that’s just fine with him!

he only ever wants some peace anyway

and you simply never disturb that, to which he very much appreciates

if your a touchy-feely typa peep, please keep it to a minimum? Especially in public??

he’s already not really a physical touch person the way a perceive it

not that he hates it or anything

he just is more comfy without it when unnecessary

at least in public

he already will probably want to keep your relationship a secret/private for as long as possible

(he knows it’ll get out eventually by some misfortune event 🤦‍♀️)

but since they find out anyway here’s they’re reactions!

Honestly Nendo probably won’t realize your dating until you explicitly say so

either that or he’ll be the first one to know and just be like ‘oh, i thought everyone knew that’

Aren really doesn’t mind and thinks your relationship is sweet

Hairo supports wholeheartedly- maybe a little too much 😅💗

Chiyo is lowkey jealous you both got into a relationship before her but she’s happy

Torisuka is MAD jealous of Saiki but deep inside he’s still happy for you two

Kaido is also a tad jealous because he knows he would practically never find a girl his mom would accept but otherwise he pretty much supports 😭💕

Mera just uses your dates to get some free food (JOKING) she thinks you guys are cute

Saiko (Teruhashi’s brother) would be happy Saiki finally stopped desperately chasing his sister and learned his place (it’s the other way around bro 😑)

Uryoku (the magician dude) would be like ‘oh you dating someone master? Great! Now I need help for my upcoming show-“

Aiura immediately tests to see if you two are compatible and how long you’ll be together

turns out you are!! And you two stay together ♡

she thinks that’s adorable and will do anything for your relationship

will tear anyone who tries to split you apart a new one (they were just trying to say hi)

Aiura is the most supportive of your relationship

btw here we’re going with Saiki is her platonic soulmate instead (she prob already is)

Kusuke (Saiki’s brother) is very much so interested in the person his brother has fallen in love with

he will observe you and ask you lots of questions once he meets you

which I’m telling you Saiki tried so hard to make sure you never would.

what happened?

his mom happened.

”Kusuo! He’s your brother! He should get to meet your partner!”

now Teruhashi I had to save for last..

her reaction depends

if she still loves Saiki she tries to befriend you while turning on the charm with Saiki

her plan is to befriend you and basically make you go ‘oh! You like Saiki? Well I guess I’ll back off then since were friends”

and finally have Saiki go ‘oh wow’ and fall in love with her

otherwise if she doesn’t love him, moves on or whatever the case may be..

she probably doesn’t care much for your relationship unless your friends

i mean she’s kinda like that to anyone she isn’t friends with right?

In other news

Your friends def mess up your dates unintentionally

poor Saiki- since he’s usually the one to plan them

nothing too extravagant- usually just out for food..BUT STILL!

They always tag along and become 3rd, 4th and sometimes 5th wheels or more! 😀

on the bright side-

at some point in the relationship you get to call him Kusuo and it’s a big step for you two! 💖

”well, I guess we’ve been dating long enough right? You can just call me Kusuo..”

I wanna write for the disastrous life of Saiki k (mob psycho 100 and black butler as well) more in the future! So send in requests!

Truly hope you enjoyed loves~

[dopeasspancake]

Can't stop thinking about the concept of post-Scream (1996) and Billy and Stu's spirits being tied to Sidney for whatever reason. Maybe it's penance. Maybe it's unfinished business. Maybe they never figure it out. But they're just kind of stuck following her.

And maybe it takes her a while to notice. Maybe it takes Billy and Stu a while to become proficient enough at haunting for her to see/hear them and for them to be able to interact with objects or the living. At first they're not even sure they want Sid to know they're there.

But it eventually happens. And NONE of them are thrilled about the situation. For a long while. Maybe Stu finds it kind of funny, but Billy and Sid are PISSED. Billy & Stu aren't always around, though. They sometimes disappear for hours or even days at a time, but they always come back. They have no choice.

They follow Sidney to Windsor College, mock her choice in studies, and cannot stand her boyfriend Derek ("He's so corny it's painful, Sid.") And although Billy & Stu love finding out that they've inspired their own horror movie, they DON'T appreciate the new Ghostface(s) targeting Sidney. Sidney was THEIR final girl and she beat them fair and square. This New Guy should be more original, in their opinion.

When Sidney is distraught over Randy's untimely murder, Billy & Stu are actually a little bummed for her. And him. Stu was even rooting for them a bit. Thought Sid & Randy would have been cute together, but oh well.

And maybe Billy still hates Sidney, but he kind of respects her. He was once genuinely in love with her, before everything. Maybe Stu, who only ever got involved for funsies (and because he'd follow Billy to the ends of the earth) is even a little attached to her. So maybe they do their ghostly best to watch out for her (not that they'd actually tell her this, of course).

And when Billy eventually finds out one of the Ghostface killers was his mom, he spirals a bit (because why does she care NOW but not before he died? What right did she even have to be angry? SHE left HIM). And all Sidney can tell him is "Well, she's dead now."

After Sidney escapes death yet again following the Hollywood murders, she has to deal with several weeks of a falling out between her ghosts. Stu was there, he heard what Roman said about giving Billy pointers. About having a partner he could sell out if need be. And that had hurt more than any knife or smashed TV ever could.

(After a few weeks and with mediation from Sid, Billy finally confesses he never planned to sell Stu out. Only liked the idea of a partner, of not being alone, and Stu was the only person in the world Billy trusted with his life. And who Billy knew was unhinged enough to agree to murder for his friend. Getting this information out of Billy is like pulling teeth because not even death has cured his emotional constipation.)

And this just continues on through the franchise. And despite the fact that Sidney will never forgive Billy & Stu for what they did, she gets used to their presence. Even eventually begins to appreciate them, as fucked up as it is. They become a familiar constant in her life.

When they tease or mock her, Sid's not afraid to remind Stu that she dropped a TV on his face. Or that she put a bullet between Billy's eyes and would gladly do it again. But funny enough, she eventually says these things with very little malice. It's almost like a fun little inside joke. And to be fair, Stu can't think of a more ironic way for him to have died. He gets giggly about it sometimes.

They make fun of Sidney when she starts dating her eventual husband. They make fun of her even harder while she's pregnant because she's often tired, sore, and easily irritated. And while neither Billy nor Stu are big fans of kids, they have to admit Sid and Mark make some pretty cute ones.

Sidney is the one to break the news to Billy, "Congratulations, it's a girl" but 25 years late. She also has to break the news that his daughter is the latest target. And that Stu's nephew was already a victim. Both ghosts are left reeling over this information. Stu is weirdly disappointed to find out Billy cheated on Sid.

("Really, Billy? Didn't you plan an entire murder all because your dad cheated on your mom? And then you had the nerve...?!"

"Stu, while I appreciate you coming to my defense, I find it... fascinating that you're fine with murder but infidelity is where you draw the morality line."

"It's the hypocrisy, Sid! And you didn't deserve that."

"You literally both tried to murder me."

"... not the point, Sid."

If Billy wasn't so flabbergasted at the time, he might have felt more ashamed and embarrassed.)

When Sidney realizes what house Sam is at, Billy & Stu stay with her as she rushes headfirst into danger. All 3 of them are a little sick at setting foot back in that house. Billy & Stu are downright disgusted when they realize the killers are once again The Boyfriend and The Friend. ("Have some fucking originality, I am begging these kids.")

Billy later ends up genuinely thanking Sidney for helping save his daughter. They laugh over the irony of it all. Stu thinks about how Sam reminds him a lot of Sid, weirdly enough. But also of Billy, in some ways. He doesn't say these things out loud. But he does feel oddly protective of the young woman.

And I honestly have no idea how or when to end this concept, it could theoretically go on for decades... but I'm def obsessed with the idea obviously. So, if you actually read through all this (thank you and) feel free to expand upon the idea.

Maybe one day I'll get my shit together and write it out in detail myself. But probably not. BUT MAYBE.

UPDATE: after tons of positive feedback and although I am absolutely shitting myself with nerves, I have officially posted the first chapter of The Ghosts of Our Past for anyone interested.

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Veilguard F/F Crackships I Have Contemplated

Bellara/Myrna - they could nerd out together and then kiss about it. Myrna seems endlessly patient which Bellara needs, and I feel like Myrna would appreciate Bellara's liveliness and intrepid spirit. And they could double date with Emmrich and Strife!

Irelin/Rana - I have already been over the possibility of Rana/Bellara but taking it one step further, I think Rana and Irelin would be a nice match and also an unbelievably hot couple (110% on the I Would Like To See It meter). Rana likes a woman who can challenge her, and maybe things didn't work out with Bellara because Irelin wanted to expand her horizons a bit. A couple that has little in common on the surface, but the same heart underneath.

The Bartender From The Prologue/Neve - This is really just a fuck nasty situation. Imagine banging thee Neve Gallus then immediately selling her out? Immensely rude but undeniable hot girl shit and honestly, would Neve hold it against her. Maybe it's their thing. ETA: upon further research, the Bartneder gives up her wily ways to fight the Venatori, giving her and Neve the perfect enemies2allies2lovers plot.

Maevaris/Lorelei - Middle Aged Women Yuri supremacy, two women taking up the heavy mantle together, dreaming of a Tevinter that's a little kinder to women like them, quiet moments in the hideout when they think nobody's looking...

ETA: MORE WOMEN

Irelin/Morrigan - Morrigan is definitely ready to embrace her bisexuality by now and Irelin's hate boner for her is probably so! frustrating (for Irelin) and alluring (for Morrigan). A one-sided beef is very sexy to me, particularly when steered by a confident older woman to her advantage.

Cida/every woman in Minrathous - Neve? Mae? Rana? Morrigan when she's lurking in the Swan? Sugar mommy, scandalous sidepiece, old flame? Many possibilities and she deserves them all because she's hot.

Josephine/Mistress Trella - Josie surely is a lover of art and stops in to see her favorite dealer whenever she visits the Treviso estate! A cozy and lighthearted situationship for blowing off some steam and having a little fun surely

[luvtonique]

Earlier today, a girl shot me a DM thanking me for not listening to people saying Melodi's body shape is unrealistic or fetishy and choosing to double down on her being a top-heavy P-shaped anorexic lanky long-armed twig lady.

She said, I quote, "I look like that IRL, and have the back problems and eating disorders to prove it. I have gigantomastia and have to get breast reduction surgeries to keep them in check [she described a lot of medical problems that come with the tissue growing too much here, too, but I cut it out cause it's pretty visceral]. I saw your post saying you're not intentionally putting representation in your game [like a year old post at this point] and this isn't about representation, it's just something that made me feel good about myself knowing someone finds my weird body shape attractive."

I told her that she is loved, and thanked her, and said that I hope that she can live a fulfilling and good life despite her disease.

She said "Same to you about your arthritis!" and that was that.

Little moments like that are why I make art and why I don't just do "what sells." I was willing to give up a huge portion of my fanbase by not flocking to Twitter in 2018 and staying here on this weird site full of people who regularly annoy me because it's my fuckin home. I was willing to leave the brony fandom after massive success in it. I am willing to receive hate-reviews from people saying my characters are "too sexualized" or that they "don't have enough identity-representation."

When people come along to tell me that something I'm doing made them happy or feel appreciated and loved, or that I helped make the hard times worth it for them, that's what really matters to me. Not filling quotas, not making characters with relatable social issues, not shoving politics or ideologies into my game to "send a message," but just those moments where the occasional person comes along and thanks me for never caving to social norms and continuing to just do the weird shit I love doing.

I love you, weird body shape girls.

Just because God hit "Random" on your body shape doesn't mean you're ugly, weird, gross or unwanted.

You're bootiful.

Also I just gotta be a snide bitch at the last line because this is Jay we're talking about. "But Jay! You'd get SO MANY MORE people coming to you and thanking you if you PUT SOME REPRESENTATION-QUOTA CHARACTERS IN YOUR GAME TO BAIT THEM OUT, LITERALLY SLAPPING THEM IN JUST TO GET BROWNIE POINTS AND INTERNET HUGS AND ACTING LIKE THAT MAKES YOU A GOOD PERSON."

That shit isn't genuine and your sense of feeling represented by disingenuous ideology-bait is as fake and fleeting as seeing a corporation put up a pride flag on their profile in February. They are using you to sell their product and you're praising them for it. I will never put a character into any work I create with the intention of representing a group of people or an ideological belief, because my characters are fictional storytelling devices, not strawmen who serve as a walking wikipedia article for a culture that the media has deemed an oppressed minority group to talk down to the audience instead of talking to the other characters.

[inbloomwriting]

Everything to me - Chapter 1

Chapter one - Apple seed

Story Masterlist

Plot: Jamie Tartt is a lot of things: professional footballer, the island's top scorer .... sexually, extremly handsome. But one thing he never saw himself as was a dad. Too bad he has to deal with the consequences of his own actions. This fic follows reader and Jamie as they navigate life and turn from practially strangers to parents. Pairing: Jaime Tartt x female reader Warnings: Pregnancy, swearing, mentions of food and alcohol, slight mention of sexual intimacy (nothing graphic), strained/toxic parental relationship Notes: 5.8k words. I do not have a set uploading schedule. Please bear with me as I work on this story. I know hardly anything about pregnancy, all my information comes from google. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"You never understood you're everything to me I just hope you know, the future in your heart Is just about to start"

The universe must be mocking her, (Y/N) is sure of that. This is all one big elaborate joke and any minute now Ashton Kutcher is gonna jump out from behind some bushes and tell her that she has been punkd. 

She had a plan, all neatly laid out and organized. Blue ink on white paper in a fancy leather-bound notebook. Like a professional adult would do it who has their life all figured out. 

Renovate the store and get it back up and running

Sell it for profit 

Pay back Mum and get the fuck away from everyone and everything that has ever made her feel unworthy

That was the plan and she was so fucking determined to stick to it for once in her life. So this must be a prank. This must all be one big misunderstanding.

But it’s not a prank, is it? It’s the consequences of her own damn actions.

Her heart is racing as she climbs the stairs up towards Rebecca Welton’s office. Her legs and feet are heavy, like concrete. Why is being honest with your friends so damn hard? 

It’s not just any friend either. It’s Rebecca. Rebecca who has always been in her life ever since (Y/N) was just a kid. Rebecca who is the only person (Y/N) ever looked up to. Why is being honest with her so terrifying?

You know why! 

Yeah, (Y/N) knows why. Because she doesn’t know what she’ll do if Rebecca hates her for what happened. Of all the people in the world, she needs Rebecca on her side. 

As she lifts her hand and knocks on the door of the office, (Y/N) wonders if this is what death row inmates feel like. Knowing the end is inevitable and it’s all your own fault.

“Come in” 

Taking a deep breath, she opens the door and steps into the room. 3 pairs of eyes look back at her but really, the only ones that matter belong to the beautiful blonde sitting by the desk.

“(Y/N), Hi. What are you doing here? Did we have plans? I thought you went back — “

“Yeah I — no, we didn’t have plans.” 

It almost kills her, that smile that Rebecca sends her way. The one that’s so warm and loving and that’s been a constant in her life for most of her childhood and teenage years coming from Rebecca. Rebecca living in that lovely white house next door with the rose bushes and the big windows. Rebecca who taught her how to do the perfect eyeliner wing, who passed down her coolest leather jacket to her, who held her hair the first time she got wasted and threw up in those very rose bushes. Rebecca who was the older sister she never had. 

She loves that smile it used to bring so much comfort to her. Now it makes her want to die. The girl she used to be, deserved to be on the receiving end of that smile. She doubts she still deserves it.

“Can we—” (Y/N)’s eyes dart around the room towards Higgins, then towards the other man. He’s the American trainer, Ted. She’s talked to him once very briefly and he seems so — nice. Genuinely nice. Not for the sake of being perceived as a good person but because he just is. “— do you think we could talk privately?” 

There’s a flicker of concern in Rebecca’s eyes and (Y/N) hates that she put it there.

“Oh, of course. Ted, Leslie, would you excuse us?” 

Everything’s a blur. They leave and (Y/N) thinks Ted makes some kind of pun but she doesn’t really recognize anything but the racing of her heart and the sour feeling in her stomach. Oh, fuck.

Rebecca sits her down on the big couch by the window, the one that’s meant for personal talks, not business. She’s so nice. Oh, she's too nice.

“Are you dying?” 

“I — uh, no.”

“Okay, good.,” Rebecca says letting out a sigh of relief. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I offer you some tea?”

(Y/N) shakes her head.

“Coffee?” 

She repeats the motion

“Champagne?” Rebecca asks, a perfectly shaped eyebrow raised in question.

God, wouldn’t she kill for a glass of bubbly right now. 

“No, I’m good. Can you just come sit down, you’re making me nervous.” 

Not only does she sit down, Rebecca’s hand immediately finds (Y/N)’s, holding on warm and tight. It almost pulls an ironic scoff from (Y/N)’s lips. Mum doesn’t know but even if she did, she’d never offer this kind of comfort to her. She never did. So for a second, she lets herself relish in the affection. Just one second. 

“Okay, now out with it.” 

She’s rehearsed this conversation so many times in so many different ways. Like a school presentation. Meticulously planned. Even added in pauses for questions and shit like that.

All of that has vanished, her brain is empty, her tongue made of lead. 

“I uh — look um. Do you remember when your dad died?” 

Of all the ways she could’ve started this talk, this is probably the worst of them all. Who says things like that?

Rebecca seems a little taken aback for a moment before nodding her head and suppressing a slight smile, one brought on by the absurdity of the question, not by joy. “I do, yes. Hard to forget if I’m being honest.” 

“Yeah, I would know.” 

“Yeah.”

“So that night I was obviously very emotional because it reminded me of my dad and all of that bullshit.” Tears are already threatening to roll down her face, sitting on her waterline waiting for the right moment to strike. It’s impressive she still has any left to cry since that’s all she did the last few days.

“That’s understandable. Oh, please tell me you didn’t force yourself to come and relive all of your pain just because you felt like I expected you there? If I knew it was so hard on you I —” 

This, all of this, is twisting the knife so much deeper. Leave it to Rebecca to search for a fault of hers in all of (Y/N)’s mess.

“No, Rebecca, it's nothing like that. I — I fucked up. I let it all get to me and because I’m, well — me, I got a little tipsy. Went outside to get some air and there was this guy. God, Rebecca, he had the saddest eyes. I just felt this weird connection so I sat next to him. We talked and talked and then ended up going to a bar and then to my place and then to my bed and well yeah.” 

She giggles. Rebecca really has the audacity to giggle at that. In her defense, she tries to hold it in but it does slip out eventually. 

“It’s not funny.”

“Is this why you’re upset? You slept with someone at, no wait, after my father’s funeral. That’s okay.”

“There’s more.” 

"Oh, what is it? Was it a footballer?” 

At the lack of a vocal response, Rebecca connects the dots.

“Alright. That’s — that’s not so bad. I was seeing a 21-year-old footballer. I don’t see what’s making you so upset about this.” 

“I’m pregnant.” 

“Oh shit.” 

Getting Rebecca to swear was always something (Y/N) found a silly sense of pride in. Rebecca with her perfect hair and outfits and manners. It felt like something so alien to her and yet that was (Y/N)’s favorite version of Rebecca. The one that’s as messy as you and me even if it’s just for a second.

“Yeah, shit.” 

It’s the first time she said it out loud. Rebecca is the first person to know, except for (Y/N) herself and her gynecologist. Her mother doesn’t know. 

The father of the baby doesn’t know.

Just her and now Rebecca.

“And I don’t know what to do. This wasn’t the plan. Fuck — please don’t be mad.” 

“Why would I be mad? ” 

There is an infinite warmth in Rebecca’s eyes. A warmth she always longed for coming from her own mother but never received. A warmth that seems entirely misplaced right now. 

“I fucked your employee. I used your dad’s funeral to make the shittiest of all shit decisions and now I come here unloading all of this on you because I, once again, don’t know how to get myself out of the hole I dug.” 

Soft hands wrap around (Y/N)’s shoulder and pull her in. Rebecca smells like expensive perfume and hairspray. All comforting and familiar. It’s nice, (Y/N) thinks, that despite everything falling apart in and around her, there is at least one constant in her life. 

“Were you really afraid of telling me or are you just afraid?” 

She’s so smart and so observant, sometimes it’s infuriating. 

“I’m so scared, Rebecca.”

Life doesn’t ask if you’re ready. It doesn’t ease you into things, slow and gentle. There are no training wheels, no floaties. Life happens whether you’re prepared or not. It’s nice to know that there are arms wide open for you to fall into, a hand to pull you out of the roaring sea as you’re just about to drown.

“You can always unload on me, you know that right? That’s what family is for.” 

All the willpower to stay brave and collected and not cry, all that vanishes with Rebecca’s words. Family. They’re family. Maybe not by blood but definitely by fate. By choice. 

Mum would’ve told her to suck it up, to stop crying, and to face the consequences of her own actions. Would’ve probably had an “I knew this would happen” or an “I told you so” on the tip of her tongue. There is none of that with Rebecca. She just accepts the tears soaking through her, no doubt, expensive blouse and softly strokes (Y/N)’s head. 

For a long time, there are no words exchanged. Some moments ask for calmness not conversation. There’s something deeply therapeutic about crying on the shoulder of someone you deeply trust.

“Can I ask?” Rebecca inquires with a gentle voice just barely louder than a whisper.

She doesn’t have to elaborate. There are only so many questions people have after you told them you had a one-night stand and ended up pregnant. 

“You’re gonna hate the answer.” 

A laugh falls from Rebecca’s lips, her breath tickling the top of (Y/N)’s head. “Don’t tell me It’s Jamie.” 

“Okay, I won’t then.” 

“Oh, (Y/N).” 

Where there should be disappointment in her tone, there is understanding, there is slight amusement but above all, there is deep and honest care. 

“ Can you blame me? Look at him. He’s sculpted by the gods and something about that silly little accent does it for me. I hate to admit it, I truly do.” 

“Does he know?” 

(Y/N) shakes her head, guilt and fear coursing through her veins.

“I don’t even have his number. I know hardly anything about the guy other than that he’s a footballer, that his ego is huge, and that he likes to cuddle after sex.” 

Rebecca’s eyebrows rise in surprise. “Does he? Huh.”

“Yeah, it was really cute actually.” 

For a moment she almost gets lost in the memories of that night, however hazy they might be. Jamie was fun and to an extent he understood. And there’s nothing quite as sexy as a man who is just as sad and messed up as you. Is it healthy? Absolutely not but (Y/N) never claimed to have a particularly healthy view on anything. 

“He works here, you know. In this very building. You can just pop down and tell him.” 

The way Rebecca says it makes it sound so easy. Like it doesn’t come with a shit load of guilt and fear and embarrassment. 

“Wait, I didn’t even ask and I just realized that’s very presumptuous and maybe a little rude of me — do you even want to keep the baby?” 

That’s the big one. The question of all questions. It’s the second thought that came to her head when (Y/N) saw the two lines on that fateful plastic stick. The first one being “Oh fuck.” It’s the question her doctor asked. It’s in all of the leaflets and informational reading she’s been handed.

“I’ve never thought about it before. I mean sure I thought about some hypothetical future but those dreams always changed depending on my mood. Now I’m here and I need to make a choice and It’s — It’s terrifying.” 

“But?” 

“But I think I do want it. I think I want to be a — a mother.” 

It’s a word that feels strange on her tongue, bitter and sharp. Like biting down on your cheek and tasting blood. Mother was never the warm comfort of a home. It was the cold hand on her shoulder, the icy glance of disapproval. 

Maybe mother can be something else. Maybe she can turn it into something sweet.

“I’m just scared. This wasn’t the plan, not right now at least, and not like this. I’m scared of doing it alone.”

“What in the world does that mean? Alone?” 

“I don’t expect Jamie to step up. I’d appreciate it, of course. But he has a brilliant career and so much going for him. Getting me, a one-night-stand, pregnant could ruin so much for him. I don’t ever want that.” 

“No,” Rebecca says and cradles (Y/N)’s face between her warm hands “I mean, you’re not going to be alone. No matter what Jamie says. You have me. And I can guarantee you that there are at least 10 other people in this building right now who will also have your back. Whatever happens, I can promise you that you don’t have to do this alone. And don’t sell yourself short, you have a career too!” 

Maybe the universe isn’t mocking her after all. And maybe this isn’t a punishment either. Maybe this is just life pushing her into the deep end. Thank god she has people to help keep her afloat.

(Y/N)’s eyes wander from the clock on the wall towards the door then back. Over and over again.

Every time the door opens and someone leaves the locker room, her heart speeds up. Maybe if she dies of a heart attack right here and now she won’t have to talk to Jamie. That sounds like the most reasonable reaction. Anyone would agree. Right? 

The boys all regard her with a sense of cautious familiarity. They know her face, know they’ve seen her before but can’t recall where much less put a name to her. 

Well, all of them but Sam. He greets her with that big signature smile of his, so full of joy and sunshine. Calls out her name and asks her about her day. Rebecca might have a point that there are more people here that care about her. Their conversation is brief but there is no doubt in her mind that if she were to call him any time of the day, Sam would drop everything and help her out. That’s just the kind of person he is. 

She wonders if that’s the kind of person Jamie is. 

Another glance at the clock. 2 minutes pass. The door opens once more.

Jamie is smiling when he steps into the hallway. His hair is wet, probably from the shower, and held back by that silly little headband of his. He’s wearing a ridiculously bright orange hoodie and obnoxious colorful sneakers. Everyone else would look absolutely ridiculous in this get-up. Jamie makes it work. It must be some kind of superpower. 

Or maybe he’s just so unfairly fit that it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing. Even naked he looks phenomenal.

Stop thinking about him naked, that’s what got you into this mess.

“Oh, hi!” 

He’s so nonchalant, so casual when his eyes meet her’s across the hall. And really, why wouldn’t he be? What they had was casual. A one-night thing, no strings attached. Just two slightly broken people finding solace in each other. That was all it was supposed to be at least.

(Y/N) feels the weight of the secret resting so heavy on her shoulders, she’s sure she’ll collapse underneath it any second now. 

“Jamie, hi. Uh — can we talk?” 

“Sure, ‘bout what? Are you pregnant or something?” 

He says it with a smile, not giving a single thought to the fact that his joke might be no joke at all but the honest to god truth.

(Y/N) on the other hand, feels like someone doused her in ice water, just poured it all over her. Her hands are clammy, breathing shallow, heart racing. Maybe she’ll get that heart attack after all.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t laugh, Jamie’s eyes grow wide in return. Though his reputation might make you believe otherwise, he’s quite quick in putting two and two together. At least in this situation. He doesn’t look happy, that much she expected, but he doesn’t look upset either. He just looks shocked. There is nothing but pure disbelief on his face. The cocky smirk has dropped, now his mouth is opening and closing trying to produce words as his head is trying to process the information he just figured out.

“Do you want to go discuss this somewhere more private?” 

Of all the places to tell someone they got you pregnant, the hallway at his workplace might not be the more desirable. 

A pale-faced Jamie nods his head, his eyes distant and glassy. She knows the feeling, has been there just a few days ago. That’s his whole life playing like a movie in his head right there, now with added scenes of a small child with his eyes. Oh god, she hopes the baby gets his eyes.

Jamie drags her into a small room off of the main hallway. Cubicle cupboards line the walls, filled with shoes and boxes. Orange and bright green and yellow. Every possible color of the rainbow, they have a pair of shoes to match in here. The smell though? The smell has her gagging. Sweat and cold cigarette smoke. It’s disgusting. 

“Oh god, Jamie. This is disgusting.” 

“It’s the boot room. ‘s where we keep the boots — and people come here to smoke.” 

“They come here to smoke? On purpose? Like they chose to spend time in here?” 

Jamie absentmindedly nods his head. He’s so pale-looking (Y/N) fears he might just pass out any minute now. 

“Jamie, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?” 

His eyes start to focus again, looking straight at her. He’s terrified and quite honestly, she can’t blame him. Confusion and fear are all she’s felt for the last few days. A bit of excitement too, sure. But mostly the first two.

“Yeah. No. I mean yes. I guess? No. I — fuck.” 

Nervously he combs his fingers through his damp hair as if to calm himself down. Is that something his parents did to him when he was a kid? A motion of comfort? There is so much she doesn’t know about this man. If he decides that he wants to stick around, can this ever work? Can you raise a child with someone you hardly know and not completely fuck them up? 

“Is it mine, then? Are you sure about that?”

“No, I just like going around scaring people into believing they got me pregnant. Yes, Jamie! I am 100% certain.” 

His hands fly up in defense “Jesus, sorry. I don’t know your sexual history. You had sex with me after a funeral, don’t know how much you get around, now do I?” 

She had expected him to ask if it’s his, hell anyone probably would, but there’s something about his tone that is just so off-putting. The accusation that swings along with his words. The judgment. As if he is in any place to talk.

“Oh get off your high horse, dickhead. We both made that decision after the funeral. Didn't hear you complain. And out of the two of us, It’s not me who fucked a girl in a hot tub on national television. Eurgh” 

“You alright?” 

“No, this room is making me gag. I assume this is bad under normal circumstances but this pregnancy situation has my sense of smell going through the roof. This is killing me.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say nothing?! We could’ve gone somewhere else.” 

“I just wanted to — eurgh— I just wanted to get this over with.” 

“Let me get you out of —” 

“No, let me just say this real quick and then I’m off.” 

She’s prepared this speech a million and one times in a million and one ways. It always worked out fine but then again, her audience was just her cat and the mirror. Having Jamie look at her, a mix of concern and shock still on his face, that’s a whole different story.

“I am having this baby and I would like for you to be a part of their life, but I accept if you say no. Just know that whatever you decide, that’s final. I can’t have you running off and then coming back in a few years regretting your decision and wanting to be a parent after all. And I most definitely will not allow you to say you’re in and then give up on the baby halfway through. I had a parent like that, I will not have my child go through the same thing. I don’t need your decision now just — make up your mind and make sure you’re 100% certain. Here uh— “

Trying to hold her breath so as to not breathe in any more of the foul smell, (Y/N) rummages through her purse before pulling out a small piece of paper.

“They don’t usually do ultrasounds that early but I made friends with the nurse as I was waiting and they allowed me to get one and see the baby. Don’t really see shit on here if I’m being honest but apparently that blob is our child.” 

Jamie takes the picture, his eyes moving between the image and back to her, down to her stomach then back to the picture. It’s like his head and his eyes are trying to cope with the fact that there is a real baby growing inside her. His baby.

“I just thought you might want to have this, if not just throw it away. I’m not trying to manipulate or guilt you into anything. Let me know when you’ve made a decision. You know where I live and Rebecca has my number just ask her for it — I gotta get out of here. Eurgh.” 

And while an overwhelmed Jamie sinks to the floor of the boot room, ultrasound picture clutched in one hand while the other nervously combs through his hair, (Y/N) throws up in the bin by the front door. 

There are 3 things (Y/N) knows for certain. One of them is that Michelle Pfeiffer as Stephanie Zinone in Grease 2 is the coolest person in the world. The second one is that decaf coffee kinda sucks. And 3 is that whoever is knocking on her door at 9:15 tonight, disrupting her rewatch of Grease 2 better has a good reason to do so if they want to keep their head attached to their body.

Slowly she’s dragging herself towards the door. Today was exhaustion enough both physically and mentally, she really doesn’t need the stress of an unannounced visitor. Not when she’s dressed in an old, oversized Hardrock Cafe shirt, bike shorts, and those ridiculous yellow slippers she got on her last trip to Disney that look like Minnie Mouse’s shoes.

“I’m coming, Jesus — “ 

“I don’t know shit about babies.” 

Jamie looks different as he stands before her on her front steps, hair messy and flat against his head, wearing a big grey sweater. Gone is all the charming confidence and the mischievous smirks. He’s all sad eyes and shy smiles. He reminds (Y/N) of a sad, beaten puppy. She almost feels bad for him. Almost. That’s until the words that just fell from his lips really register in her mind.

“You could’ve just texted me you’re not interested. Didn’t have to come here, really.” 

“What? No, I am! “

“You just said —” 

“I said I don’t know shit about babies. Cause I don’t. But I’m not gonna run off.”

“You won’t?”

Jamie has never looked so genuine, so serious as in that moment and it sends a weird feeling through (Y/N). She didn’t have any expectations in him. You can’t really have those if you don’t even know the person. Sure, she hoped he would take interest in her and the baby but things truly could’ve gone either way. To hear him say that he wants to step up and be there, that’s a feeling she can’t really put into words.

“Can we uh — can I come in? Your neighbor is staring at me.” 

(Y/N) opens the door to let Jamie pass before leaning outside and facing the house next door. Sure enough, old Mrs. Hartley is standing by her window, eyes trained on (Y/N)’s front door. Jesus fucking Christ, do these people not have their own lives? 

The small pink couch looks even smaller with Jamie’s broad frame perched in the corner. He’s holding onto the fluffy white pillow as if he needs some kind of buoy to keep him afloat.

“Do you want tea or something?” 

“Do you have beer?” 

She only raises an eyebrow in response and points to her stomach. 

“Right. Pregnant. Forgot about that for a second, sorry. “

Oh, the privilege of getting to forget about that. 

“I have water, ginger ale, and apple juice.” 

Jamie screws his face in repulsion. If there is one thing she’s learned about Jamie Tartt in the limited time they’ve spent together, it’s that his emotions are always so clearly reflected on his face. She’s not sure he knows exactly how expressive he really is.

“I’m good. Here, I actually brought you some stuff.” 

As she sits down on the couch next to him, Jamie holds out a Tesco bag to her filled to the brim with stuff. 

“What’s all this?” 

He looks bashful, almost shy as he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“Just some stuff for your nausea. Google said anything ginger helps so I got these lollies. Also sour candy and crackers. Not sure if it works but I felt so bad seeing you earlier and knowing it's kinda my fault, innit?."

It's such a sweet sentiment that (Y/N) can feel the tears gathering on her waterline. Maybe Jamie is the kind of person she can call when in need. Maybe he can become that person.

"That's very sweet Jamie, oh there's more."

It's a small box with two even smaller socks, so tiny it almost seems impossible that a human being can have such small feet. 

"Saw them and couldn't stop thinking about how cute they were and then I couldn’t stop imagining our baby being so tiny and wearing them and, yeah.” 

“They’re adorable, Jamie. Thank you.” 

His words wrap around her heart like vines. Taking root. Blooming. 

“Our baby”. The thought of having a baby is still so foreign to her. Her own baby, her child. Hearing Jamie call it theirs sends a flutter of feelings through her. Their baby. Part her and part Jamie.

“So what I meant earlier is that I don’t know shit about babies. None of my friends have babies, I have no siblings and all my cousins are around my age so I never really had experience with babies. I know they’re cute and I know they poop a lot. “

“They are pretty cute.”

“Yeah, and our baby?” he says and motions between the two of them “‘s gonna be the cutest fucking baby of all time. It’s genetics.”

The matter-of-fact tone in which he says it pulls a laugh from (Y/N). He does have a point though.

“I am not going to lie, I'm extremely unprepared for this. For being a — a dad.” 

There’s a bitterness there, a heaviness. Maybe Dad is as sharp and as cutting a concept to Jamie as Mum is to (Y/N). 

“Don’t have a dad. Well, I do but he’s right asshole, isn’t he. So I got no idea how to be good at this, had no one to show me. I’ll try though. I want to be different. I need to be. Promised myself when I was a kid that I was not going to be like him, ever.”

“I understand that, trust me Jamie I really do. But I need you to be sure that you want that. I don’t want you to stay around because of some misplaced sense of duty. I want you to want this.” 

"Didn't think I did. When you told me and you gave me an out I wanted to take it. But then I kept looking at that picture, can’t make out anything on it by the way but that doesn’t matter, I kept looking at it and that part of me. That's my baby and I couldn't live with meself if I gave up on it. On you. A lot of people have given up on me in my life and I resent them for it. I can't be the one giving up now, can I? I'm better than that."

She doesn't even realize the tears have found their way out until Jamie's face fills with concern. "Oh no, I didn't mean to make you cry or nothing."

"They're happy tears, I think. I'm really scared, Jamie. Knowing that I don't have to do this all by myself, that helps a bit."

"I promise I'll try to be the best at this. I'll even rub your feet if they're hurting and I fucking hate feet."

Leave it to Jamie to put the humor back into even the most serious and tense of conversations.

"You don't have to rub my feet, that's okay. I do think we should get to know each other better though, now that we're gonna be raising a child together. I know hardly anything about you."

"Uh, you know plenty about me. You know I'm fit, obviously. You know I have great hair. I'm good at football, fucking ace actually. Also sexually."

That little shit has the audacity to wink. it should be annoying. It's weirdly charming though.

"And now you also know that I'm gonna try my best to be good at this. Hey, when the baby is here can I get one of them kangaroo pouch thingies and take them to training with me?"

"Kangaroo pouch? You mean a baby carrier?"

"Yes, that! Strap it to my chest while I do my warm-up."

"You are not taking our baby to training with you, are you insane?"

"I'm joking, Jesus. Would look fucking cool though, maybe get us matching sunglasses. Hats too. Baby icon."

"Oh my god, you know what, maybe this is a bad idea after all."

But it's not, she doesn't mean that. Jamie knows it and (Y/N) knows that he knows. For the first time since those two lines appeared, it feels like she can breathe easy again if even just for a moment. Things will be hard, no doubt but at least she can share it with someone. And it's just an added bonus that someone never fails to put a smile on her face.

"What are you watching there anyway?" Jamie asks, nodding his head towards the tv.

"Grease 2."

"They made a second one? Is it good?"

"No, it's terrible. I love it."

"See," Jamie chimes up, a small genuine smile.on his lips "learned something new about you. The mother of my child loves bad movies. This getting to know each other plan is going so well already."

And while it is a joke, there's also a flicker of truth to it. It's the little things that make us who we are. Like our love for bad movies or our desire to be better than our parents before us.

"Do you wanna stay and watch it with me?"

"Can we start from the beginning?"

"Obviously"

"Then yes! Give me one of them ginger lollies please."

They spent the next few hours watching Grease 2 followed by the first because - well it's just right to watch them both, really. It doesn't feel forced or awkward. This is not two strangers trying to bond for the sake of their child. This is a genuine friendship in the making. It feels wonderful. They exchange numbers, birthdays, favorite colors. It’s all very superficial information but it’s a start and it’s easy. This whole situation is hard enough, sometimes easy is just what you need.

The clock says 12:03 when Jamie decides it's time to go home. 

Just as he is about to leave, one foot already out the door, he turns back with curious eyes.

"Do you know how big the baby is?"

"Uh, no. Pretty tiny I think."

"They didn't tell you what fruit size?"

"Fruit size?"

"Yeah like, it's as big as a strawberry now or something."

(Y/N) shakes her head in response "I think they mostly do that in American movies."

Jamie looks deflated for a fracture of a second before he lightens up again and one of those rare smiles takes over his face. The one that makes him look so boyish and excitable. Like a fucking golden retriever.

"That's okay. I'll find out."

"You do that. Let me know what you find. Have a good night Jamie."

"You too!" Then his eyes move to her stomach "And you too baby."

God, he can be so adorable it's absolutely sickening.

As she lays in bed, (Y/N) thinks back to just the night before. To the anxiety and the fear. To all the what-ifs that ghosted through her head. That seems like a whole lifetime ago and even though a lot of those fears are still present, they get overshadowed tonight. By the knowledge that she's not alone. And by the absolute sunshine that is Jamie Tartt. 

Just before she closes her eyes, her phone dings with a notification. 

Her hand comes to rest gently on her stomach. There’s no change there yet, absolutely no sign of a baby growing in there at this very moment. And yet she knows and that makes all the difference. 

In a voice, soft like silk, she whispers “Daddy says goodnight”. It’s cheesy, outright sickening but in the dark of the night, who is there to judge her for it? Sometimes you have to let yourself be ridiculous and cringy if your heart demands it.

That night she doesn't fall asleep to fear and anxiety. That night she falls asleep with a smile on her face. 

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-eighteen

*gif found on pinterest*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: I hope y'all don't hate me after this.

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh

"So it's over?" I clutched my phone between my ear and shoulder as I carried in the bags of groceries into the house.

"Yes. He tried to fight your mothers will, but it clearly states that you keep the house. There's no way James can sell it without your permission."

I sighed while setting down the bags on the kitchen counter. "Thank you, Ryan. I appreciate all your help."

"No problem, Y/N. If you need anything else, call my office anytime."

Ending the call, I left my phone on the counter as I put away the food I bought, the setting sun forcing its rays through the glass windows. Even with the cool November weather, the heat of the sun-blasted against my back, warming my skin instantly. The house was quiet as I moved throughout it, picking up odd things that were scattered in random places and putting them back where they belonged. The phone call with the lawyer's office that had been helping me deal with situating my mother's estate and her will weigh heavy on my mind. I'd been working with them for the last couple of weeks and although they said that it was over, a part of me knew deep down that this thing with James was far from over.

After my mother's funeral a few weeks ago and the interactions with James, I immediately sought some legal help to make sure that there wasn't any kind of loophole that he could find to slip through. Thankfully, there were none and James ended up flying back home to Texas, leaving me alone.

Or so I thought.

It started at first as just weird feelings then it turned into the feeling of being watched anytime I was walking around the neighborhood or even inside my house. It got so intense that I ended up leaving the curtains closed twenty-four-seven. If that wasn't creepy enough, one morning I woke up and noticed that the back door was open just a crack. It scared me so bad because I remembered shutting and locking it. It's been about a week since the last weird incident and I decided it was all in my head. Originally I thought it was James but knowing he was back in Texas, I chalked it up to a crazed fan that found out where I lived.

Somehow pictures of me with the guys at my mother's funeral ended up online, especially ones of Noah's hand in mine. People already had their suspicions about the two of us but now the rumors were spreading like wildfire online. I did what I always did when I read something I didn't like; I ignored it.

Since the kiss we shared on his birthday, things between Noah and I were even more weird, in a good way. The only problem? It felt as if we were rushing back into things which is not what I wanted. So while Bad Omens were away playing a three-day festival a few hours away, I was using this time alone to think about things.

Noah offered me my job back, but I didn't accept it, not yet anyway. It was something I needed to think about. Although be it tempting, I also needed to think about where my life went from here. I didn't want to stay in this house much longer because the memories were too daunting and frankly; I wanted to forget about the times of taking care of my mom here. Her lies were etched into the walls and buried deep into the soil of the foundation. The thought of moving far away crossed my mind a few times, but it never was more than a thought. All the bad memories aside, there was a lot of good here that I couldn't bear the thought of leaving.

Before Noah left, we talked about some things that were said that night of our fight. He apologized profusely about bringing up my only fans page in front of everyone and comparing it to amateur porn. When in fact; it was something that Noah watched often. He said the real thing was better than the pictures or videos I posted.

I thought I would be angry that he saw me like that before the night in the storage closet but I wasn't. It extremely flattered me he thought of me like that.

When I told him I'd be stopping the page, he told me I didn't have too since we were kind of, sort of, dating, but I told him it was only to pay Lana's paychecks when she was taking care of my mother. Now, there was no need for the Only Fans page anymore. Noah wouldn't say it out loud, but I could tell he was relieved that I deleted the page.

I also had to tell him that Folio saw my nudes. Prior to how he acted in jealousy, Noah surprised me when he shrugged it off with a laugh.

"Damn, he got those for free? Do you know how much I had to pay for those?" He joked which earned a slap to his chest from me.

We hadn't kissed or done anything more since his birthday, much to the dismay of my aching pussy that begged for him. He never forced me for more of our relationship and I was thankful for that.

As I was returning downstairs with a large stack of photo albums in my arms, I heard my phone ringing from the kitchen and made it just in time to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hi angel," Noah's deep voice echoed in my ear.

The corner of my mouth lifted into a smile. "Hey you. How's the festival?"

"Good, we just got back on the bus and should head back home soon. I wanted to call and check in since it's been awhile since we last talked."

It was true. I wished them all good luck at the festival before they left a few days ago. I didn't even talk to Folio, that's how much I was valuing this alone time. Of course, not wanting them to worry, I sent a text or two letting them know I was alive. Noah was understanding in letting me have all the time I needed to myself but he made sure I knew that once the festival was over, he'd be calling.

"You're leaving already? It's only the second night," I said.

"The schedule of the festival changed around and our sets already finished. We figured to head back home a day early."

I hummed. "Some girl back home waiting for you?"

"Yes. In fact, I plan on having her over at my place for a movie night."

"Oh, really now?" I raised a brow while opening up the photo albums. "Does she know about this?"

There was some loud voices on Noah's end before he yelled away from the receiver. "Assholes! I'm on the phone."

"Tell Y/N we say hi!"

Jolly.

"She's coming back to work, right? Because the pictures Davis got for our social media fucking suck."

Nick.

"Hey, fuck you man!"

Davis.

I chuckled while sitting on the stool at the counter, slowly flipping through the photo album. It was of my sixth birthday and seeing the pictures of my father with a large smile on his face as he handed me my birthday cake warmed my heart. I did this every night the last few weeks; looking though old memories in hopes to remember the good ones.

"Tell her to answer my text. It's important!"

Folio.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my phone away from my ear to look at my most recent text from him.

The second we got the news that our set ended a day early, Noah damn near sprinted to the bus like someone lit a fire under his ass so he can call you. He's rushing us so we can get back home. I don't know how but you got that man wrapped around your finger.

My heart skipped a beat as I put the phone back to my ear just in time to ear Noah's sweet voice again.

"So about that movie night?"

"Depends," I chewed on my bottom lip.

"On?"

"Can it be just you and I? Maybe at my place?"

There was a long beat of silence on Noah's end. "You sure? I don't want to rush you into anything, angel."

"You're not, trust me. We've been taking things slow so this movie night could be the next step."

"I'll promise to keep my hands to myself."

I could almost imagine Noah crossing a finger over his chest.

Closing the photo album, I leaned back into the stool with a playful smirk on my face. "Maybe I don't want you too."

"Angel," Noah groaned. "As soon as I'm back home, I'm coming over. I don't care the time."

I giggled while making my way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to my room. By now the moon was casting its bright white glow on the old wooden floorboards and I was ready to turn in for the night.

"How long is the drive?" I asked.

Noah sighed. "It's about five hours."

Glancing at the clock on the wall of the hallway, I noticed it was about eight in the evening, meaning by the time he got home, it would be too late and I'd most likely be asleep.

"How about tomorrow night then?" I asked once I stepped foot in my room.

"I'll hold you to that."

We talked for a few more minutes before I reluctantly hung up, exhaustion pulling my body toward my bed.

My nose tickled at the harsh smell as I turned over in bed, slumber still weighing heavy on my chest. But the smell intensified which woke me, eyes fluttering open. It was almost an earthy smell as it engulfed me and I sat up in bed with a start. The surrounding air was thick with dust and my vision was hazy as I looked around my room. Then I realized it wasn't my vision that was hazy, it was my room that was hazy. A thick cloud of smoke filled my room, and I traced it to the bottom of my closed door where I sucked in a sob; bright flames licked their way underneath the opening of the door and I scrambled out of bed towards the farthest side of the wall.

Fuck.

My house was on fire, and it was slowly reaching my bedroom.

"SHIT!" I cried when the flames now ran up my door, the heat immediately brushing across my face.

Did I leave a candle burning?

No, I haven't lit one in days.

Did I leave to stove on?

No, I ordered pizza for dinner.

And the fireplace hasn't been lit in years.

So how the fuck did the fire start?

My eyes glanced over to the phone on my nightstand but before I could reach for it, the flames reached it and I reared farther back into the farthest corner of my room away from the fire. Fear gripped me as I tried to scramble my brain on how to escape.

I couldn't leave my room without getting burned alive so the only way out was the window, but I was on the second story which was at least a 15-foot drop. There was a lattice I could slowly climb my way down but it would take time to make sure I didn't fall which time wasn't something I had much time of.

My throat felt raw and thick as I continued to breathe in the smoke the longer I stayed in my fetal position. I coughed as I slowly rose to my feet, ready to climb through the window when something caught the corner of my eye. On my dresser on the other side of the room was an array of pictures of my mother and I and also with my father. Then on my desk next to the dresser was my laptop which had more pictures; most of my time with Bad Omens.

Continuing to cough up black smoke, I rushed through the flames to grab two picture frames and as I was going to reach for my laptop, a flame brushed up from underneath the desk, touching the skin of my wrist and hand. I hissed in pain as I pulled my burned hand into my chest, tears mixing with the soot from the fire on my face.

My brain was screaming at me to leave because the fire would burn me alive in seconds, the sound of the flames and memories burning hurt my ears. So with one last look around the crumbling vision of what was once my bedroom, I hastily climbed out of the window with my burned hand clutching the pictures close to my chest. It was difficult to climb down the lattice with one hand and shaky legs, the amount of smoke I inhaled made my breathing labored and I was sure that I was seconds away from passing out.

Far off in the distance, I heard sirens and knew that in a matter of minutes, I would be saved, all I had to do was reach the safety of the ground below. But as I was about a few feet away from safety, I noticed the flames were burning hot and bright from the window just below my feet. Which meant I was trapped in between the two floors, barely hanging on to the lattice.

"Fuck," I sobbed while banging my head on the peeling wood.

"Angel!"

Choking out another cry, I peered over my shoulder to where I heard the desperate voice.

Noah was running up the long driveway up to my house, both Nicks' and Jolly right behind him.

My heart soared from the sight of them and for a moment, only a moment, I didn't think I was going to die.

"You need to jump!" Nick yelled up to me.

I quickly shook my head. "No way. It's too far of a drop and if one of you guys try to catch me, I'd hurt you!"

"You have too!" Jolly demanded.

Noah's frantic eyes searched every inch of the house until he pointed to the window a few feet to my left, one that had a balcony. "What room is that?"

"Uh," I closed my eyes to think of the layout of my house. "It's my mom's. There's a back staircase in her room that leads to the mudroom!"

"It seems like the fire hasn't reached it. You need to climb to that window and hoist yourself up onto the balcony to make your way down," Nick suggested.

"I can't!" I cried.

Folio's soft voice called up to me. "Yes you can, Y/N. There's no other way."

"No," I shook my head with not only fear but the pain from my burned hand. "I burned my hand pretty bad and I can't climb with it. I'm barley hanging on."

A scream crawled its way out of my throat when I slipped down the lattice a few inches, my grip faltering.

Noah's face was filled with so much worry it made my stomach sink to the pits of hell.

"Stay there, angel!" He called up to me as he began running. "I'm coming!"

"NO!"

Folio was too slow to stop Noah, who disappeared out of sight as he ran towards the side of the house that the fire hadn't reached yet. My eyelids felt heavy as I continued to cough up the smoke that my lungs inhaled and with every breath, I hissed in pain. It felt as if there was a vice grip around my insides making it harder to breathe and stay conscious.

"Y/N, stay with us. Noah's almost there," Jolly's voice sounded so far away.

I nodded, or I thought I did, because Nick's yells were all I heard before darkness finally had a grip on me just as my grip on the lattice slipped away, my body falling to the hard ground below.

[linkemon]

Start in your head (Yuri Plisetsky x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

"ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴀʟʟᴇᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ." ᴍᴀᴋꜱɪᴍ ᴡᴏɪᴛɪᴜʟ

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴘɪʀᴏᴢʜᴋɪ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʀᴜꜱꜱɪᴀɴ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴄʏ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ 2. ꜰᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ́ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛᴏʀʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪʀᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ

[Reader] looked around the rink. She had been coming here for a week in a row and these visits promised to be a new, quite interesting tradition. Partly because she enjoyed teasing Yuri on most occasions and it was an interesting new form of an old game. Whenever the boy saw that she came to stare, he immediately gave her the best kind of taunts. The day before yesterday, he even deliberately extended the training to see if the girl would leave. However, he failed to achieve the intended effect and she returned with him chattering all the way.

— What are you doing here again, you idiot?

— Nice to see you too, Plisetsky. — She grinned so widely that Yuri swore her jaw was about to stretch.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but deep in his heart he was surprised at her behaviour. Most people hated him from the beginning (or didn't want to be friends with him after some time). He weeded out a lot of those individuals who fit into the two categories because he didn't want to associate with them. Apart from his fans and family, with whom he already had problems, he was left with only a small group of people who wanted to see him and whom he allowed to do so. And she was slowly starting to belong to that group.

— I told you not to come. — He started unlacing his skates.

— Nothing new. — She leaned against the board. — Today we're going to town.

— For what reason? — he huffed.

— They opened a Russian food stand near the park and are selling pirozhki.

This was his weak spot. [Reader] knew well how much Yuri appreciated his grandfather's delicacies.

The boy was aware that the taste probably wouldn't be as good as what he usually ate but the thought of a warm buns after training almost made his mouth water.

— Okay, let's go. — They better be edible, though — he muttered.

The walk to the park consisted mainly of [Reader's] monologue but it was nothing new. Since the ballerina arrived with Lilia Baranovskaya, he managed to say goodbye to silence for long moments.

—... and then I do a pirouette, and she says... — she stopped abruptly. — Wait a second!

The skater was about to comment on how he wouldn't freeze like a fool on the street in sub-zero temperatures when he saw where the girl had turned.

— Who is sweet and charming? Who is? You are!

[Reader] was just lifting an adorable, furry, ginger ball into the air. The kitten snuggled into her shoulder, clearly craving warmth.

At the same time, his second, less trusting companion appeared around the corner and, after sniffing the girl's shoes, he gave up her company in favour of Plistesky.

He looked a bit like Potya, so he started stroking his fluffy head without hesitation. He already missed his pet.

— I don't think they're strays — [Reader] said, examining the collar that should have a contact address on it.

Before she could add anything, a young couple with a child turned from the main street into an alley.

A little girl who was missing several baby teeth stopped shedding tears as soon as she found the kittens. As if on cue, both of them obediently jumped from the teenagers' arms and wandered over to her.

She mumbled a thank you, which her parents told her to repeat, and then disappeared.

— It's a pity. — [Reader] glanced at her now empty hands.

— It's not a pity. They found the owners.

— I know but still... — An unfinished thought hung in the air.

Without any further obstacles, they finally managed to reach the booth. The girl had to admit that it looked quite pretty in the pastel colors of the Russian flag, lit by a row of light bulbs.

While standing in line, she managed to argue with Yuri three times. The customers closest to them looked at them strangely and parents covered their children's ears. And when they reached the ordering stage, she was afraid that the seller simply wouldn't serve the two of them because his murderous look indicated exactly that. However, nothing like that happened and she received her pirozhki.

The girl sniffed it, and then reluctantly bit into her portion.

— Wow, it's sooo good! — She looked at the filling, trying to guess the composition of the it in the dim light of the lamps.

— Tch — he snorted. — My grandfather makes better ones — he said but he ate the rest of his portion.

After this trip, it turned out that it was the first but not the last.

[Reader] liked Russian food so much that she dragged the boy to the booth every day, ordering new delicacies.

The system added a new item to the menu every day and worked quite efficiently. When they were halfway through the list, one fateful afternoon occurred.

It was starting to get dark. The boy's training was almost over and the girl still hadn't shown up at the ice rink. Baranovskaya stood by the board, which never happened at this time. As usual, she was accompanied by a careful look and a frown.

Yuri drove towards her in a fluid movement.

— Was [Reader] here?

The question, short and to the point, required the same type of answer.

— NO.

— If she does show up, tell her to come to me. It's true that she took second place and she can do better but for God's sake! Instant break down? We have to fill out these papers and she disappears right after the competition. — She waved the stack of papers angrily and walked away.

The skater had no desire to return to training. He left the rink, wondering if [Reader] had told him anything about the ballet competition. However, he came to the conclusion that despite letting some information out through the other ear, he would still remember something so important.

It was hard for him to admit it to himself but the ballet mistress's words and tone worried him.

He searched the Internet for recent news. The photo in a recently published article showed the lucky winner of the gold medal. However, it was not [Reader]. He managed to find an amateur video showing the performance of the girl and her competitors.

He called her once but only silence answered on the phone.

With quiet hope in his heart, he decided to go to the park. It was a bull's-eye. It's true that the girl, although she didn't choose their usual bench, didn't really hide. Her cheeks and nose were pink from the frost, and delicate snowflakes settled on her hair. Moreover, she was bathed in the dull light of the park lamps. She would have looked beautiful if the image hadn't been spoiled by her red eyes from crying. [Reader] held the unfinished pirozhki in her hand, her eyes fixed on the dead center. She only broke out of her trance when she saw familiar shoes and their owner a few meters in front of her.

— What are you doing here, idiot? Baranovskaya is looking for you — he huffed.

— Then call her and tell her I'm here — she replied in a flat voice.

Yuri was speechless. The girl had never seemed so emotionless to him.

— I won't handle things for you, call her yourself — he provoked again.

— I'm not going anywhere. — She shrugged. — Nothing will happen if I don't sign these papers. I want to quit.

— What exactly? — He frowned.

— Ballet. — She bit into her food. — I've spent a lot of time here today thinking about it, and I think it's a pretty good idea. No more training and competitions. I will finally be able to return to normal school. Plus, seeing family every day sounds good too. I won't have to spend half my life abroad. By the way, you're a damn hypocrite. You kept saying that I was dragging you here by force and now you came of your own free will.

This was too much for the boy. Her condition, so different from what he had been accustomed to over the past weeks, was getting on his nerves. He couldn't deal with it.

— Have you gone completely crazy? — He asked in the coldest tone [Reader] had ever heard from him.

Yuri pinched the bridge of his nose, sighed, and then sat down on the bench next to her.

— I saw both performances online. You may be on a similar level but you are better than her. Just look at your fouetté at the end. Those damn judges must have been blind when they gave you half a point less.

The girl raised her head to look at his face. She had rarely seen him talk about something with such conviction. She was ashamed to admit it but she didn't suspect Yuri of ever being able to give anyone a compliment. For that reason, however, this one had a stronger effect on her than most she had heard about her dancing before.

The Yuri's green eyes seemed sincere. The decision she had made that afternoon now seemed to her like a less than fantastic vision, driven by the impulse of failure.

— I'm grateful but...

— If you think I'm just saying this because I want to comfort you, then...

— That's not what I meant — she quickly denied. — I appreciate what you said but I still need to think about whether I want to enter the next competition. Go back and tell Lilia not to worry.

— But if you do, just know that at the next competition I'm going to sit in the audience and watch you beat the crap out of all of them and...

— Yuri!

The boy rolled his eyes and stood up from the bench. [Reader] did one of the most spontaneous things she had ever done. She ran to him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

— Thank you again — she whispered and returned to her seat.

The Russian smiled to himself, feeling a feeling of warmth spread throughout his body.

That night neither of them could sleep.

[agendabymooner]

london boy ! lando n. x ofc (alessandro sister!writer!ofc)

"they say 'home is where the heart is' but god i love the english."

summary: nicola grazia 'cola' alessandro just moved to britain after tilly wolff's newly opened publishing company hired her as an editor and writer, so what's a better way to get to know your new home than to tour the city with lando norris? OR everyone thinks that the mclaren driver is seeing someone... and he proved to everyone that he is- he just wouldn't show her face.

content warning: based on characters from the rush series (see masterlist), fluff, ion even know if lando's english, use of explicit language, "private but not secret" kind of relationship, colabebe is a private account, daniel ricciardo being a good brother-in-law?? events have taken place post-wedding series.

note: i have a different part already made for this and i made that shit first before the actual introduction to the characters/storyline 😭 my brain is in shambles rn sorry guys. cheers xx

masterlist

liked by landonorris, mateoales, loricciardo

landonorris put them damn dogs away dawg 😩🐶 liked by colabebe

colabebe ur the only one i can hear bitching about it 🤭

landonorris do you have one more room for a person to spoil loricciardo nora_alessandro jacquelinalessandro

mateoales no gtfo no british parasites allowed

danielricciardo have a brother-in-law who feeds off your chanel addiction ✅ liked by colabebe

colabebe have a sister-in-law who keeps an eye on your pregnant wife whenever you're away ✅

danielricciardo i agree ✅

hellonsite you should donate some for charity 🙌

colabebe didn't u call me poor back in elementary for my tattered shoes?

user1 girl bffr 💀

nora_alessandro and now you're few steps away from buying your own chanel bag tesoro 🥰 liked by colabebe

[translation: extremely grateful for the opportunity that was given to me by @wolffpublishing, and for that reason, i will continue to thrive in my journey as an editor and author. thank you so much! hello united kingdom!]

tagged wolffpublishing

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, alex_albon

danielricciardo LETS GOOOOO !!!!! liked by colabebe

tillywolff welcome to the team nicola! ❤️ liked by colabebe

colabebe thank you so so so much tils!

landonorris i cant wait to play muse for you shawty 😭 liked by colabebe

colabebe bold of u to assume i'm not writing about alex_albon

alex_albon yeah i appreciate that and all but isn't that lando's youtube silver plaque on your shelf?

colabebe 👀

landonorris SO YOU WERE JUST SEDUCING ME SO YOU CAN TAKE THAT PLAQUE??? i was so convinced you didn't have ur eyes on it yet here i am 😐

mateoales disgusting comment by lando aside, i think you can sell that plaque at a pawn shop

landonorris STOP ENCOURAGING HER TEO

landonorris you can keep that plaque ig 🤠 liked and pinned by colabebe

colabebe hehehe <3

landonorris its like i never win against any of you alessandros

loricciardo don't lie- you always get your way with me

landonorris so does she???

loricciardo she's my sister mate 🧐

georgerussell63 ur sister sent some wine in ur new flat. congrats! liked by colabebe

colabebe do you think u and her can send another one bc me and lando emptied it already 🙂

georgerussell63 i'm just a boyfriend, not jesus.

colabebe posted a story !!!

liked by carlossainzjr, georgerussell63, loricciardo

user1 your plaque and YOUR WHAT? 😟😳

landonorris did i stutter?

user2 i didnt know u have rizz like that 😱 liked by landonorris

georgerussell63 baffled. did you seriously just bring her in your office instead of actually touring london??? smh norris

landonorris absolutely not 😠 she went paddington shopping and to the places that had the sorting hat and everything 😤 i dont like these accusations george william russell

user3 oh no, no-rizz used the full name RUN PRINCE GEORGE🏃‍♀️

carlossainzjr i hate that 👌 thing lando so much liked by landonorris

landonorris sorry babe

carlossainzjr its okay babe

user4 arent we all worried the drivers know who she is?

user5 we? whos we? i like the chaos in the comments idk why u crying about it 🥰

danielricciardo i hope you can still attend the family dinner after calling her a thief 😇

landonorris she likes me so much she wouldn't dare uninvite me

user6 what if lando's dating one of daniel's in-law? 🤔

user7 YES QUEEN BE DELULU I LIKE THAT 🤤

[arliedraws]

Go on about Sirius and Benjy I am listening

Well, I went down a Benjy Fenwick hc rabbithole and created a backstory, so thank you for that

Benjy Fenwick comes from a working class seaside town in North Yorkshire. His father is a mechanic and his mother works part time as a cashier. Benjy’s the oldest of five children—he and his youngest brother (born when Benjy is about twelve) are the only siblings with magic. But he almost didn’t go to Hogwarts because he could hardly afford any of his books or materials, but he worked his little eleven-year-old butt off to make extra money. A natural salesman, he finds scraps to sell to kids he knows, gambles, scams adults until he gets the money he needs.

He loves his parents, particularly his mum. He feels incredibly guilty to be leaving his family behind, convinced that he needs to take care of them, but his parents insist that he goes. When Benjy gets to school, however, it’s clear that he is Poor. The first person to point this out is Bellatrix Black, a particularly nasty Slytherin girl in his year who comes from a very old pureblood family.

But Benjy is the most shameless, charming, devil-may-care sort of boy. He’s decent at school, but doesn’t care about doing well—he just cares about doing what’s right. He’s a jock type without possessing a shred of interest in the jock activities—he doesn’t give a damn about Quidditch but gets bored sitting still, but he’ll fly a broom to see how fast it goes. Too clever for his own good—could talk his way out of anything. He doesn’t need to lie—he just tells the truth so plainly that you can’t help appreciating his candor.

All of this infuriates Bellatrix Black, and she’s determined to make this little Ravenclaw as miserable as possible by trying to turn people against him. But Benjy is a really difficult person to hate. He’s the sort of kid who, if he doesn’t get a spell correct, is the first to laugh at his mistake. He asks the “dumb” questions in class—the ones that people are too embarrassed to admit they don’t know the answer to—with a shit-eating grin. He’s the first to protest if a professor gives them an extra long essay or a pop quiz and give the most convincing argument why the teacher should spare them—and sometimes, he’s even successful.

He gets a few O.W.L.s and a couple of N.E.W.T.s but not enough for a job in the Ministry. He never really wanted to do bureaucratic shit anyway. When he finishes school, he goes back home to work with his father as a mechanic. His family has always been his first priority, after all. And he’s pretty happy! He’s probably gay and he has younger siblings who are happily married and having kids, so he feels no pressure to “settle down” and marry some girl.

Anyway, Bellatrix Black’s old rivalry with Benjy never faded, and his family is savagely murdered in one of the earliest massacres of the war. He was supposed to be killed too, but he happened to be elsewhere that night. Mr. and Mrs. Fenwick are murdered, as well as two of his siblings, their spouses, and their children. Benjy goes feral when the Ministry do very little to investigate. He decides to hunt down the perpetrators himself but accidentally ends up sabotaging an Order of the Phoenix mission led by Alastor Moody.

Dumbledore asks Benjy to join the Order, and soon, Benjy becomes a key player in the war. He’s an excellent duelist, he can make muggle explosives that evade magical detection, he hasn’t got a lot left to lose, and most importantly, he has to make the world a better place for his little brother who’s still at school.

Benjy has been with the Order for five years by 1978. He’s still cheeky but a little jaded, battle-hardened, and a bit wary of the newest recruits who are too fresh out of Hogwarts. What is Dumbledore thinking bringing on these kids? And one of them is Bellatrix Black’s cousin.

This Sirius kid is charming and reminds Benjy a bit of himself when he was that age, but Benjy is also a bit suspicious of the pureblood heir. He hides his distrust, though Sirius can sense it. When a mission goes wrong, Sirius risks his own life to save his friends and finally earns Benjy’s respect. Others in the Order still don’t entirely trust Sirius because of his family, but Benjy sees something in him and takes Sirius under his wing as Sirius’s friends become more and more distant while the war pulls them apart.

Benjy spends more time with Sirius who constantly drops in unexpectedly at his house in Yorkshire. He’s worried about Sirius who begins behaving recklessly as James becomes more entangled with Lily. Benjy has to pull him back, insisting that he’s needlessly putting himself in danger.

When Sirius is furious that James and Lily are planning to wed, Benjy initially doesn’t see the problem—then he realizes that Sirius is in love with James. Benjy attempts to comfort him, but he discovers, to his surprise, that perhaps he’s always wanted to comfort Sirius. But Sirius is too young for him and in love with someone else…though he can’t deny he wants this kid very, very badly.

Meanwhile, Sirius desires approval from someone he respects, and Benjy has always praised Sirius in exactly the way Sirius likes—sarcastic remarks and a pinch of his cheek, winks, exasperated smiles. He likes how Benjy throws his arm around his shoulders like they’re mates; he likes that Benjy treats him like an adult when they’re on missions. They drink together, share the same kind of humor, etc. Benjy even brings Sirius to work in the auto body repair shop, etc. It’s hard to resist the older wizard—and it doesn’t help that Benjy is a fit, working class hunk.

Neither is sure who made the first move, only that Sirius came directly to Benjy’s house after James proposed to Lily. Benjy lets Sirius rage about it until Sirius, exhausted, settles down next to Benjy on the sofa, and Benjy just sort of…strokes his hair. And a lightbulb turns on for both of them.

From then on, when Sirius isn’t with his friends, he’s with Benjy. He doesn’t tell anyone about his relationship with Benjy (who warns that if Moody finds out, they won’t be able to partner up anymore). As they become more involved, Sirius can’t always explain where he’s been which looks…suspicious to people.

Anyway, if this were a fic, I’d probably add the plot of Bellatrix finding out about Benjy fucking her most eligible bachelor cousin, reigniting her old hatred of him.

Yada yada, Benjy dies to save Sirius—and no one alive knows they were ever together.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

Playing Lethal Company With TWST Cast

idk I was feeling silly ig Heartslaybul

Riddle: - Invested in the lore - Hates mods - Dies more often to quicksand and teammates baiting the blind dogs to attack him - Hates his teammates (Ace) baiting the blind dogs to attack him

Trey: - Also invested in the lore - Likes the loot bugs - Mostly stays at the ship to monitor everyone and open doors/disable turrets - Tries to be responsible with the loot/money - Will kill his teammates if they're short quota and sell their bodies Cater: - Screams at the bracken and the giant worm more than anything - Loves the emote mods, poster mods, and skin mods - Will stand on a landmine just to wait for his teammates to get close and blow both of them up - Will not go back to get your body besties sorry - Always brings a sign in, always drops it so someone else has to beat the shit out of the monsters Deuce: - Gets eaten by the mimic doors...A Lot - Also dies via Ace baiting the blind dogs - Was also the one the find out about the bridge having a weight limit - Does not trust the teleporters because he always ends up in a locked room - Boomba is his worst enemy, he runs into landmines all by himself just fine he doesn't need one to run into him - Always goes back to get teammates bodies - The ghost girl targets him a lot - Has gotten really good at avoiding the coilheads because Ace always ditches him, but he can't jump on rails to save his life Ace: - Menace to his teammates (see above) - 1000000000 mods - Push mod is his favourite - Immediately finds the most annoying noisy item he can - He's fast at running but is always too slow at putting his metal items down when it's stormy out - Buys a jetpack and immediately destroys it - Buys a rifle and uses it on his teammates - Loves baiting the monsters to use the teleporters - Second loudest in the dorm after Cater, though Riddle is close too

Savannaclaw

Leona: - Will only play if push mod is enabled - Literally does nothing but kill his teammates because he thinks it's funny - The spore lizard thing is his favourite and he could not tell you why - On the last day, he ends up pulling through for his team because he wants to make quota - He will convince his teammates to ring the bell more than they should just to watch them get mauled - Loves the mod where he gets to be the monsters Ruggie: - Menace 2.0 but not in the same way Ace is - He immediately fucks with the light as soon as he can - Lies to his teammates about which emergency exits are safe - Loves the teleporters - He also loves when he can juke the turrets and stand on top of them - Also the first to run if he hears a thumper or spider - Calls the bracken his friend - Will lock people in rooms whenever possible, especially if there's a turret Jack: - Likes to stay at the ship and be dependable, will monitor and lead teammates through the map - Because of this he normally stays at full health so his teammates nominate him to go get a beehive right before they leave a moon - Buys the teleporter to get everyone's bodies back without risking loosing the loot - Doesn't know the maps from the inside very well so he will end up tailing someone the whole time if he chooses to go inside - Hates that the mimics can use voice clips from the players but it's also really funny for any dead teammates spectating - Thinks it's sad that the dogs are blind, but really appreciates the fact that the dogs and giants work together to hunt prey

Octavinelle

Azul: - Coward /affectionate - Wants to stay in the ship, but Floyd/Jade both inverse teleport him a lot lmao - Hates the SCP mod?? Map?? idk at this point - The ghost girl targets him so much it's hilarious - Tries to stay in charge of the money, Floyd usually intervenes - Dies to giants a lot - Thought the slots mod might be fun, until Floyd spent all their money - Gets used as bait a lot - The spiders hate him Jade: - Inverse teleports EVERYONE he thinks the unpredictability is Funny - Likes to sneak up on his teammates - Pretends to be a mimic a lot (Floyd panics and ends up hitting him with the shovel) - Teammates compare him to the bracken a lot (they mysteriously die shortly after) - If someone kills him he votes to return to the ship early to be petty - Loves the monster mod that lets him torture his friends - Adores the loot bugs so much they're his Little Guys - Compares Floyd to the Thumper a lot - Brings your body back to. right in front of the ship so when you're spectating you can watch them abandon you Floyd: - Menace 3.0 (uses All tactics mentioned above) - hates the backroom mod - Screams at all the monsters, mostly out of joy - Loves the twerking emote - The Jack in the Box is his favourite - He loves the nutcracker too because when he kills it he gets the rifle - He will proceed to use the rifle irresponsibly - Finds all the ways to die on Gordion - Carries the boombox around everywhere

Scarabia

Kalim: - Can't play it's too scary for him. Even the minecraft world mod. It's just not for him. When he tried playing he got struck by lightning. Jamil: - Has to play with the arachnophobia filter - Still screams with the millipedes/face huggers - Always has a shovel, flashlight and walkie so he doesn't get much loot - Likes putting the mimic mask on to terrify everyone else even if it means he dies - Also enjoys the boombox and jamming out with the slime

Pomefiore

Vil: - Gets super competitive - Actually loves the push mod but would never admit it - Loves beating the shit out of thumpers - Will kill his own teammates if they honk horns and shit he will NOT tolerate it - Ends up dying to the bracken a lot - Comments on how little sense the value of each thing is (especially the hair dryers) - Also makes up a lot of theories about the game and lore while he's playing but if you call him out on it he'll deny that he's That invested in the game (he will never look up the actual lore) Rook: - Literally only plays to try and kill the monsters he doesn't give a fuck about quota - Push mod is Funny - Dies to the slime a ridiculous amount of times because he's too busy beating the shit out of something else - Was the first one to die to a giants fart - Somehow always manages to get beehives with minimal damage - Tricks and/or "blackmails" people into trying fire exits out for him (he wants to see more of the mimic, but will leave all their loot on the ground) Epel: - Loves the high risk high reward moons - Teammates try to use him as bait, but he always uno reverses them - Blind dogs are his favourite and he likes to crouch walk with them and lowkey pretend they are his Friends - Loooooves the jetpack, he's half decent at flying with it - Has died to the ladder more than once (he did it to himself) - Also tries to send himself to the backrooms by charging things that should Not be charged - Runs into the bees by accident a lot

Ignihyde

Idia: - Literally so many fucking mods - He looses interest in Lethal Company pretty quickly - Trans cat stuffy is his baby - the cat mod is the reason he stays, but then he also refuses to sell them to the company - He sometimes lets Ortho control everything (like monsters spawning, how fast time passes in game, how many inventory slots he has, etc. etc.) and it makes it more engaging for him and fun for Ortho Ortho: - When he plays alone he only plays on the minecraft map mod - He likes collecting Steve - Otherwise he invades public lobbies and is a little menace to everyone - At least once in game he'll abandon everyone because he thinks their panicking is funny - If he dies early, he doesn't quite grasp that it's frustrating when he calls the ship to leave, so it happens pretty much whenever he dies early - Speed runner when he's by himself because he has....all the mods at his disposal

Diasomnia

Malleus: - He can't fix a tamagotchi, you think this man is playing a video game? - Sorry, you can play with him one on one to teach him the controls but you're not getting in the building Lilia: - Menace 4.0 - Grandpa is a little shit - Loves the coil heads and luring them towards his teammates, just to ditch them - Teleporters are his best friend - Dies to the elements more often than monsters (quicksand/Lightning/fall damage? Gravity) - Has also died via standing underneath the pod when it's delivering stuff - Loves the push mod - Calls the loot bugs his children - Will find a jar of pickles and defend it with a rifle, nobody is allowed to sell it Silver: - Dies to a lot of the monsters because Lilia told him there's a mod that lets him befriend them when there's not one installed - Has never died to a mimic door somehow - Has an amazing sense of direction in game, always knows where he is and how to get to the exit - Buys a rifle but tries to never use it - Mostly tails other teammates to make sure they're safe - If he stays in the ship he ends up falling asleep Sebek: - Dies to the blind dogs a lot - Also sustains damage from Lilia trolling him while he's trying to cross the bridge - Would rather play with no mods - Gets so proud when he brings back a lot of loot - Always tries to go back for more loot and ends up taking too long to get back to the ship

[teapartyprincess4two]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR MATT BASED ON THE SONG HEARTBREAK GIRL BY 5SOS.

Idc how long it is (the longer the better)

pls pls pls I will sell my left foot to read it 🙏

Heartbreak Girl- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Taken!reader x BestFriend!Matt

classification: angst

warnings: pining, clueless reader, toxic relationship, jealousy, heartbreak, friendzone, slight cursing, use of y/n, unrequited love, mentions of cheating, panic attack, no happy ending (sorry, the song calls for it)

inspiration: request^^, Heartbreak Girl by 5SOS

summary: Matt’s in love with you, but you’re too in love with someone else to realize it.

Heartbreak Girl PT.1, PT.2

—

Matt’s phone rings loudly on his bedside table, waking him from his sleep. His eyes jolt open, the loud ringing scaring him. He knows who’s calling, but hopes it’s someone else this time so he can hang up without being eaten alive by the guilt. A sigh leaves his lips as he checks the caller ID, your name shining brightly on his phone screen. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes as he answers, “y/n?” Your sobs immediately fill the room as they emit from his phone speaker, he grimaces slightly at the loud noise and holds the phone away from his face.

It was always the same thing with you, you’d call him late at night complaining and crying about something your boyfriend, Mike, did. Matt would comfort you time and time again, advising you to just break up with that loser and sometimes you’d listen. You and Mike would break up, sometimes for as long as a week, but you’d always end up welcoming him back into you life at the slightest apology.

“What did he do this time?” Matt asks, another sigh leaving his mouth. He’s propped up on an elbow, his head hanging forward with his eyes shut as he tries fighting sleep. If you were anyone else he would’ve stopped picking up your calls a long time ago, but you’re his best friend and he feels a sense of responsibility for you. “First, he called me annoying and then we got in this big fight and then he left. He said he’s going back to his ex,” you hiccup, barely sounding coherent through your sobs.

Matt wants to scream into his pillow, was this not the same fight you had with Mike last week? “Well-” Matt begins, but is quickly interrupted by you. “He accused me of cheating too! Doesn’t he know I love him? I’d never cheat!” you exclaim through the phone, your words coming out a mile a minute.

Love. Matt cringed at the word, how could you possible love a guy who’s favorite pass time was making you cry.

Matt could tell you were entering a stare of hysteria, your breathing was erratic and you wouldn’t stop crying. “Alright, y/n. Try to calm down,” he whispers sternly, trying to bring you back to reality. With every late night phone call Matt gained more and more reasons to hate your stupid boyfriend. “Okay… I’m calm,” you reply, bringing your voice down and attempting to steady your breathing. He knows you’re faking it, but he appreciates that you’re at least trying.

“Okay, now telling me what happened,” he instructs, a part of him wanting to hear all the details of your argument so his hatred for your boyfriend would be more justified. You retold the events in excruciating detail, mentioning everything that was said and done. So much of it repulsed Matt, how could two people treat each other like that? He felt his heart breaking with each word, but the anger he felt was much stronger, “he really called you that?!”

Matt’s jaw was clenched, his teeth grinding against each other in the process. He heard your sniffles on the other side of the phone, a part of him wished he could just hold you. “Yeah, but he’s not that bad,” your voice was hushed, almost like you were afraid. You sounded scared to admit it, mostly because you knew Matt would get mad. You, of course, guess correctly because Matt replies angrily, “He’s not THAT bad?!?”

If he had any common sense he’d just hang the phone up now because there was obviously no getting through to you. But, a part of him is praying that one day you’ll realize what a loser Mike is and then maybe you’ll realize that he’s been here all along. “Well, I mean, it takes two to fight,” you reply in an attempt to defend your last statement. Matt rubs his temples, trying to massage his growing headache away.

“Y/n, stop being so naive,” he says harshly. At this point his anger has completely consumed him but he bites his tongue to stop the venom from spilling.

“Don’t be mean,” you mumble. There was no excuse for Mike’s behavior, not that you were much better, but you couldn’t let this become your forever. “I’m not being mean. I’m being real,” he replies, his voice softening a bit when he realizes how harsh his words sounded.

A brief silence settles in the conversation, but Matt can hear soft mumbling in the background. Matt assumes you’re talking but somehow the audio got muffled. “I can’t hear you,” he says, turning the volume up on his phone. The mumbling gets a little louder and then suddenly he hears it, it’s Mike. He must’ve come back once he cooled off, he’s sure to reel you back in with broken promises and empty apologies.

“Matt, I have to go. Mike is here,” you whisper into the phone, clearly scared to be caught venting your problems to your best friend. Mike, Mike, Mike. What was so special about Mike anyways? Sometimes, if Matt repeated the name enough it almost sounded like his own name. Matt, Matt, Matt. He wished it was.

He wants to beg you to stay on the phone, but he knows there’s no use. All he can do is advise you to choose better and hope that this time you’ll listen, “y/n, don’t do anything stupid.” There’s a lot of shuffling coming from your end, if Matt closes his eyes he can imagine every single movement. “Okay, bye friend. Love you,” you say quickly.

Friend. That is a word Matt will be reduced to for the rest of his life. He wants to be more than that with you, but a part of him knows that you two will be stuck going in circles again and again. You fight Mike, you break up, you cry to Matt, you make up with Mike, and Matt’s lost his chance with you yet another time.

Before he can reply he hears the phone click, you hung up. He knows that you’re probably already reconciling with Mike and even though it makes him mad, it mostly makes him feel helpless. Matt tosses his phone back onto his bedside table before dramatically falling back onto the bed. He knows that if you just opened your eyes you’d realize that he was here all along, that he’d never hurt you.

But, despite his better judgement, Matt will keep picking up your phone calls because he’s a sucker when it comes to you.

—

The sound of arcade games echo around the building as Matt and his brothers walk around the arcade in an attempt to find the perfect game. They only had a few tokens left, so they had to spend them wisely. You were there too, but you were so immersed in Mike’s presence that it was like you weren’t. Matt had invited you in hopes to finally get you alone, away from Mike. But, that stupid guy followed you like his life depended on it. You were so enthralled by Mike that you hadn’t even played a single game, even Nick and Chris found it annoying.

“What about ski ball?” Chris suggests, the three of them had lapped around the arcade a billion times and still couldn’t find the right game. “No,” Nick says, peering around the arcade for a better game. “Bumper cars?” Chris suggests again, running out of options to say. “We don’t even have enough tokens for that,” Matt scoffs, joining Nick as he looks around the room.

“Fine you pick,” Chris grumbles, leaning against the nearest game as he waits for his brothers to choose. As they’re surveying the room, Nick and Matt see you in the corner talking with your boyfriend. You two seemed to be caught up in an argument like usual, earning an eye roll from Nick. “I don’t know what she sees in that guy,” he comments, trying to read your lips to see what the argument is about. “I hate that guy,” Chris chimes in, joining his brothers in their watch party.

Matt hums in agreement, not wanting to say too much in regard to the situation. He can only assume that you did something Mike didn’t like and now you’re getting in trouble for it. The conversation seems to get heated enough for you to storm off, making your way towards the triplets. “Oh shhh- she’s coming, she’s coming,” Chris warns, trying to act casual.

Nick does the same, leaning against the machine closest to him. Matt’s eyes widen, all he can think to do is turn quickly on his heel to face his brothers. They immediately engage in a fake conversation in attempt to convince you that they weren’t watching. It seems to work.

“Ah yes, McDonalds does have the best chicken nuggets. Good point, Chris,” Nick says as he looks towards his brothers expectantly, but you’re so mad you don’t even notice the ridiculous conversation topic. “Guys you can have my tokens, I’m leaving,” you say, not even introducing yourself with a hello. You pull the tokens out of your pocket, dumping them all in Chris’s hands. He was so excited to have more tokens that he didn’t even care you were leaving.

“Is everything okay?” Matt asks, watching as you hurriedly try to get rid of all your tokens. “No, bro. Stupid Mike, dude. He got mad that I wanted to play so he brought up his ex again, can you believe that?” you scoff, still fishing for more tokens in your pockets. Why was every argument you had with Mike about his ex?

“Gross. Why are you leaving though? You haven’t played a single game,” Nick asks, taking a few tokens from Chris for himself. He and Chris also disliked your boyfriend because you two were always fighting about stupid stuff. But, they weren’t as involved in your love life as Matt was, so they didn’t know how often you two were actually fighting. “Cause he’s my ride and he said he’s leaving,” you grumble, finally looking up from your pockets to look at your friends.

“We can take you home,” Matt suggests, not wanting you to leave just yet. He says it so quickly and eagerly that his brothers give him a weird look, he catches it and coughs awkwardly. “I mean, if you want to stay,” he mumbles in an attempt not to seem so desperate.

You look between your friends and the arcade entrance, trying to decide whether you should stay or go. Matt bites his tongue, trying to prevent himself from saying something he’ll later regret. He wants to grab you by the shoulders and scream that you should just leave that stupid loser.

“I don’t know, it’s getting late,” you attempt to reason as you check your phone for the time. It was only 5pm, but your heart really wanted to follow Mike before he decided he was done with you for real. Upon checking the time, you see a message from Mike that made your stomach turn.

Mike: I left. have fun with your friends. we’re done.

Matt watches as your expression completely drops, you look like you just got the life sucked out of you. “Did he leave?” Matt asks softly, not trying to upset you more than you already were. You shove your phone into you pocket and put on a fake smile, ignoring his question. “It’s only 5, we got time,” you say excitedly, trying to pretend like you didn’t just receive the most heart breaking message ever.

Nick and Chris don’t know any better, so they immediately perk up at this and drag you back into the arcade. Matt, on the other hand, can read you like the back of his hand. He sees how your shoulders slump and how a frown replaces your smile when you think no one’s looking.

Throughout the whole night he wants to scream out, ‘you can be with me now!’ But he knows that you’re not ready, maybe you’ll never be ready. And that, to Matt, is so frustrating.

—

For the rest of the night the boys work towards distracting you from Mike. They use your tokens to win as many games as possible. Matt is focused primarily on convincing you you should leave Mike for good this time. He watches as you attempt to get the basketball into the net as he says, “I’m just saying, you’d be much happier without that guy.”

You fumble with the basketballs in front of you, missing each shot terribly, but welcoming the distraction from the conversation Matt was trying to have. He watches as you roll your eyes and continuing trying to play the game, “tell me one good thing he’s done.” This statement catches you off guard, you’re sure that Mike is a good guy, but for some reason you can’t think of a single good thing he’s done.

You scoff at Matt, throwing the last basketball at the net only for it to hit the rim and fall out. “He does a lot of good things,” you reply annoyed, watching as the machine disperses your tickets. All you earned from this game was 8 tickets considering you missed more than half the shots. “Okay, then name one,” he retorts, ready to challenge you whether you liked it or not. Your mind is racing trying to think of one good thing Mike has done that Matt would find valid, but you still can’t think of one.

Annoyed, you snatch the tickets from the machine, accidentally tearing the last one in half in the process. Matt watches you, noticing how the frustration seems to get the best of you. He knows you won’t be able to think of a single good thing Mike has done, especially not after he ditched you here to fend for yourself. “See, you can’t even think of one. He treats you so bad, y/n. You don’t deserve that, you deserve someone who’ll treat you right,” Matt says, the both of you walking in the direction where you last saw Nick and Chris.

“Oh yeah? Who would that someone be?” you retort, looking around the entire arcade in search of Nick and Chris. You desperately needed to find them so they could serve as a buffer between you and Matt right now. He was asking too many uncomfortable questions and honestly was starting to push your buttons, he doesn’t know Mike like you do. “I mean, I’ve always treated you right,” Matt’s reply is so bold that it even catches him by surprise, what the hell was he even saying right now? He knew he was setting himself up for heartbreak and the friendzone, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying it.

You look at him briefly, a little shocked that he’d even say that. I mean, you two have been best friends for so long that a relationship with Matt would be like dating a brother. The thought is weird, but you don’t want to offend him, “yeah, but you’re my best friend. Friends are supposed to be nice to each other.” Each time you say friend it feels like a stab to the heart. He seemed to be stuck in the friendzone again and again.

“Y/n! Matt!” Nick calls out from the ticket machine, both he and Chris feeding their tickets into it. You perk up at the sight of them and walk over immediately You feel a wave of relief wash over you when you see them, finally you’ll be able to escape this awkward situation Matt put you in. Matt can’t help but feel sad, but he tries not to show it.

“We’re gonna get a remote control car!” Chris says excitedly, referring to the prize they were going to cash in for using all their tickets. Without another word he takes all yours and Matt’s tickets so he can feed them into the machine. You chuckle at this, finding it amusing.

Matt offers a small smile.

—

After redeeming your prizes, the four of you decided it was time to head home. You picked out a giant plushie while the three of them combined their tickets for Chris’s remote control car.

Matt pulled up to you house reluctantly, wishing he could kidnap you and take you to their house once he saw Mike’s car parked outside. “Mike’s home?” Chris asks you casually as soon as Matt places the car in park. “Yeah, guess so,” you reply as you unbuckle yourself, trying not to sound too excited. Deep down you were bubbling with emotions, mostly happiness because if Mike is home that means he’s definitely not done with your relationship.

“Bye guys, I had so much fun!” you dismiss yourself eagerly, all you want to do is go inside and reconcile with your boyfriend. Nick and Chris bid you goodbye but Matt stays silent, he doesn’t want you to leave. You hug Nick in the back seat and pat Chris’s shoulder as you open the car door. You offer Matt a small, awkward smile before grabbing your plushie and hopping out of the car.

Matt feels so defeated, if he weren’t such a pushover when it came to you he’d tell you the truth. The truth is that Mike is leading you on, playing with your feelings, abusing of emotions, and flaunting you around like a trophy when he feels like it. The truth is that Matt is in love with you and has been since the first time he saw you, but he’s too scared to ruin your friendship to admit it.

Matt watches as you walk up to your front door, plushie tucked under your arm. There’s an eager pep in your step that makes Matt want to throw up. Chris is scrolling through his phone, forgetting about you as soon as got off the car. Nick is watching Matt, confused as to why he looks so sad. “Are we gonna move? I’m fucking hungry, dude,” Chris groans from the passenger seat, throwing his head back dramatically against the car seat.

You were inside already, but Matt stayed outside your house and watched as the lights in your house turned on one by one. He knew you were searching the house like a madwoman for Mike. “Can you drive?!” Nick chimes in, grabbing Matt by the shoulder to break him from his daze. Matt’s eyes remain trained on your bedroom window, watching as the light turns on and your shadow comes into view as he responds, “yeah, sorry.”

He puts the car in drive, slowly letting the car roll down the street. Matt’s breath hitches as Mike’s shadow comes into view, he’s praying that you’ll just run out of the house and back into the car. The car is slowly rolling down the street, Matt’s foot hovering over the break in an attempt to slow the car down even more. Your shadow and Mike’s meet for a hug and soon enough you’re kissing. Matt’s foot slams on the break suddenly causing the car to jolt forward, he knew it was coming but it didn’t hurt any less.

“What the fuck Matt?!” Chris exclaims, looking up at Matt in bewilderment. The seatbelt was choking him slightly and his phone flew off his lap. Nick’s head hit the front seat headrest slightly, causing him to gasp in surprise. “Matt what the actual fuck are you doing?!” Nick yelled, meeting Matt’s eyes through the rearview mirror.

There was no way Matt was about to admit that he was watching you through your window. So, he made up the quickest lie he could think of, “Sorry. I got a cramp.” He offered both his brothers a fake smile in hopes that they’d believe his lie. It seemed to satisfy them seeing as they rolled their eyes and returned to their phones. Matt took his foot off the break, looking back at your house one last time.

The lights were off.

—

Matt doesn’t hear from you until two days later. You called him at 12pm, which was completely uncommon for you to do. You were usually calling him at 12am, breaking him from his deep sleep to rant about Mike.

“Hello?” Matt answers the phone immediately, if this is another call about Mike and his stupid actions he’s ready to be honest this time. “You busy?” You ask, propping the phone between your shoulder and your face so you can freely look through the racks of clothing in front of you.

Matt examines his surrounding, trying to decide whether he’s truly busy or not. He’s not. “Mmm not really. Why?” He asks, getting up from his spot on the couch and walking over to his room. He hears the metal hangers scraping against the clothings racks in the background before you reply, “wanted to see if you were down for lunch.”

This was the first time you’d asked him to hang out since dating Mike. He couldn’t fight the smile that grew on his face. “Just you and me or Nick and Chris too,” he needed to sound casual, but he was kicking himself for even mentioning Nick and Chris. What if you said yes to inviting them and his time alone with you turned into a group hangout?

“Up to you, I was hoping for it just to be us,” you reply, picking a shirt off the rack. You examine it carefully as you try imagining yourself in it. You decide you don’t like it and put it back. Matt is doing a silent happy dance on the other side of the phone, he feels like this is his chance to tell you the truth. Plus, you don’t seem to be upset with Mike which means that the conversation probably won’t revolve entirely around that loser.

Matt calms himself down, taking a deep breath before replying, “Cool yeah. Should I meet you somewhere?” He’s trying to act casual, but there is no such thing as casual for Matt when it involves you. “You can. Or I can pick you up?” You reply, walking out of the store and to your car. You walk the street cautiously, thanking the people who let you pass with a small hand wave. For you, this conversation really was normal. Just a friend asking another friend to go out to lunch.

For Matt, this conversation felt like the beginning of something new. A new relationship with you, a new attempt at admitting his feelings, even a new outlook on life. He felt positive. “Yeah that works. Are you close?” He has the biggest smile on his face as he looks through his closet for the perfect outfit.

“I’m like 10 minutes away,” you say mindlessly, pausing as you dig through your purse for your keys. “I’ll let you know when I’m there, okay? Love you, friend,” you finished saying once you found your keys and unlocking your car.

There was that word again. Friend. It made Matt shudder, but he tries ignoring it. He wasn’t going to let that sour his mood. “Alright, bye. Love you too,” he replies, but he means it. He intentionally doesn’t call you friend in hopes that you’ll take the hint.

All you do is hum in response and hang up. It breaks Matt’s heart, but he ignores it.

—

You pick Matt up, arriving to his house exactly 10 minutes later. The two of you decide on a restaurant, engaging in light conversation throughout your meal. Matt couldn’t find the courage to confess to you, especially not with the thought of Mike looming over him.

Matt felt incredibly anxious, his mind racing uncontrollably with all the possible outcomes of tonight. He could confess and it could go one of two ways, you could feel the same or you could reject him for Mike like all the times before. Or he could keep it to himself and remain in the friendzone forever.

The two of you are now walking back to your car, ready to call it a night. “Thanks for coming out with me,” you say with a smile as you hop into the drivers seat. Matt follows suit, getting into the passenger side before replying, “of course, anything for you.” The comment was simple, but it had so many underlying messages that he wished you’d pick up on. ‘Anything for you.’

You seem to pick up some sort of message because you reply with a chuckle, “you’re always saying sappy stuff like that Matt.” He gulps nervously, was this his chance? You start the car, the radio playing dully in the background. The noise replaces the previous silence, only adding to his own frustration, especially because he hated this song. He couldn’t decide whether to do it or not.

“I hate this song,” you mumble, changing the station to another song quickly. He takes this as a sign, a sign to just bite the bullet and spill it all. He needs to start off slow though, if he’s too abrasive it’ll scare you, “so, how are you and Mike doing?”

You two hadn’t spoken about Mike the entire night and for good reason too. The night you got back from the arcade he made a bunch of empty promises, adding in a bunch of fake apologies in between. You, of course, ended up forgiving him only for him to mess up again the next day. So, you decided you were finally done with him and broke up with him for good. Usually when you two would break up you’d allow him back into your life within hours, but this time you blocked him on everything and forced him to move out. Today was your first day as a truly single woman and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You were repulsed by men and decided you were going to be single for a while.

“We broke up actually,” you say calmly, making a long story short. Matt knew all the details of your previous arguments with Mike so there was no point in explaining the obvious. He’s in shock, actually in shock. This is the first time you’ve ‘broken’ up with Mike and weren’t completely hysterical about it.

“When did this happen?!”

You turn the corner onto Matt’s street, nearing his house slowly. “Yesterday morning. I kicked him out and he’s coming for the rest of his stuff tomorrow,” you say like it was the most normal thing ever. How were you so calm? So casual?

Mike moving out was the best news ever, that means that it’s real this time. “Wow. How are you?” he asks. He needs to test the waters before diving head first, especially if he’s going to confess something so important.

“I’m okay. Honestly, I’m not as sad as I thought I’d be. I’m just ready to be single,” you reply, placing the car in park in front of his house. He digests the information, trying to come to terms with the fact that you want to be single. “Right now I’m repulsed at the thought of men. I’m just so done crying over guys, you know? I’m ready to just hang out with my friends and be free.”

“I’m a man. Are you repulsed at the thought of me?” Matt asks in an attempt to make light of the information you just dumped on him. He’s trying not to freak out right now. “No, dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different,” you reply, the words cutting into Matt. Everything you just said felt like an insult.

The car is filled with an awkward silence, neither of you know what to say after that. The same song from earlier plays, the song you hate and suddenly it feels more like a bad omen to Matt. You cough in an attempt to break the tension, but Matt remains silent, he feels like he can’t breathe right now.

“Well I had fun today, Matt,” you finally say, unlocking the car so he can use it as an excuse to escape this situation. You don’t know why the conversation suddenly became so awkward, all you know is that this felt weird and you didn’t want to sit in it for longer than you had to.

“Me too,” he replies meekly, struggling to unbuckle himself. “Here let me help,” you offer, reaching towards his seat to help him with the buckle. It all becomes too much as he pushes your hand away, “stop. I got it.” You look at him in shock. What was his problem?

Before you can comment on his behavior, he opens the car door and stumbles out. He can’t seem to leave this situation fast enough. You watch in confusion as he walks into his house without another word. You are worried, but decide he’s just being dramatic and drive off.

Once he’s inside he feels the emotions intensify as he immediately collapses onto the floor. He’s out of breath and his head is ringing with the words you said, ‘No dude! I mean like men that I’d date. You’re my best friend, it’s different.’ He’s hyperventilating at this point, the tears flowing uncontrollably down his face as heaves in an attempt to catch his breath.

Nick and Chris who were in the living room hear this and immediately bolt towards Matt. “Matt? What’s wrong?” Chris asks frantically, getting on his knees to be eye level with his brother. Matt doesn’t respond, instead he grabs onto his Chris and pulls him in for a hug and sobs into his shoulder. He’s desperate for comfort, but nothing seems like enough. Chris understands what his brother needs, holding him tightly in an attempt to console him.

“He’s having a panic attack, let’s take him to his room,” Nick says equally as frantic, squatting in front of his two brothers so he can rub Matt’s back. Chris and Nick attempt to pick Matt up, but he’s glued to the floor, still holding on to Chris for dear life.

“It’s okay buddy, I got you,” Chris says calmly, not wanting to escalate the situation any further. Matt continues to cry, allowing his brothers to comfort him. “Deep breaths, Matt. Deep breaths,” Chris instructs, pulling Matt off of him slightly so he can get it together. Matt nods his head, using all his will power to stop crying and focus on his breathing. Finally, he’s able to calm down and his sobbing is reduced to sniffles.

“Wanna talk about it?” Nick asks lovingly, sitting next to Matt on the floor and rubbing more circles onto his back. “No,” Matt replies, his voice hoarse from all the crying. He looks down at his hands and plays with his rings to occupy his mind. “That’s okay, we’re here for you when you’re ready,” Chris chimes in, taking a seat on the other side of Matt. He rests his head on Matt’s shoulder, patting his thigh to signify that he’s willing to sit here with him for as long as necessary.

“Thanks,” Matt replies sadly, resting his head against the wall behind him. He’s never felt as defeated as he does right now. He’s stuck in the friendzone again and again.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

Honestly such a great request, but I had to keep re-listening to the song to write a story as accurate as possible to it. That’s why there’s no happy ending because the song clearly states that he’s stuck in the friendzone again and again, but I’m willing to do a pt.2 with a happy ending or just a diff outcome. Hope you enjoy.

Also, I’ll be expecting the foot

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[tbyfandoms]

I’ve Got You | JJ Maybank x Reader

Pairing: jj maybank x f!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: struggling with financial burdens, y/n starts to crumble under the pressure. jj notices the girl he loves is hard on her luck, so he does everything he can to help fix it (requested)

Warnings: descriptions of financial struggles and depression, mild swearing

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: hello everybody! it feels great to finally get out my first fic of the new year! things have been kinda crazy irl so I haven't had a ton of time to write, but I just wanna say I appreciate all of your support and patience. when I got this request it really hit home, so I hope the user who requested this enjoys! in other words, I can't wait for s3 of obx to drop this month, I've missed my blondie <3

It was all beginning to be too much. You aren’t quite sure how much more of this you could handle.

Flopping onto your bed, you try your best to not fall asleep right then and there. You’ve just gotten home from a long shift at work, and to say you're drained would be an understatement.

You're not really sure where it all started. At one point you were fine, dealing with finances and typical life whatsits, when suddenly it all came crashing down.

Bills and necessities started pilling up and for some reason everything seemed to be getting more and more expensive. You were doing everything you could; taking on another job, spending less, even selling things you no longer needed. None of it seemed to help, though. You feel like you're being buried under all the pressure, and it doesn't help that it's starting to take a toll on your mental health.

Days and days went by where you would do nothing but go from one job to the next, come home and do what you needed, and then fall asleep. It was all starting to blur, you can't even remember what life was like before this all began. It makes you feel so sad and stressed, but you're not quite sure what else to do.

You're supposed to be hanging out with the Pogues tonight, and you'd promised you'd go since you've missed the last three hangouts to either work or catch up on sleep, but you're struggling to even keep your eyes open right now. Honestly with everything going on lately, you haven’t been one to want to socialize anyways. You can feel yourself pulling away from your friends more and more, but you feel as if you can’t do anything to stop it.

Turning over on your side, you grab your phone and check what time it is. It's early-ish. You could totally rest your eyes for a bit before you get up. Today was just so exhausting, it felt like you pulled a double because one of your co-workers called off and you had to do all their work as well as your own. The whole thing was a total nightmare.

It wouldn't hurt to drift off for a while. If you're a little late to the hangout later it won't be the end of the world. Everyone would probably just brush it off. So far no one's caught on to what's happening in your life and somehow that soothes you. You'd hate to worry any of them, they each have their own problems to deal with and you're not gonna add to the list.

Everything would be fine eventually. Although, from what you can see, it all seems far from fine.

*****

There's a rapid and consistent buzzing coming from your left side, and the feeling has you bolting out of bed.

It takes you a second to regain your balance and whereabouts, but as soon as you do you find yourself filled with panic. It’s darker out now, much darker than it was earlier.

When your eyes adjust to the brightness of your phone you see notifications on top of notifications of missed calls and texts. They’re all from the Pogues wondering where in the hell you are. You were supposed to meet with them hours ago. Shit.

Quickly, you open the groupchat you have with everyone and send a simple but honest text.

Had work today and passed out as soon as I got home. Didn’t realize how late it was. Promise I’ll be at the next hang, sorry!

Hopefully it’s enough to ease their minds. It’s not like you lied either, you really did have work and passed out. Just because you didn’t wanna go in the first place doesn’t mean it’s any less valid.

The thought sort of jars you. You can’t ever think of a time where you didn’t want to spend every moment with your friends, whether it be to surf, party, or just sit with each other. You frown at how much things have changed. You miss-what feels like-the old days, you miss the old you.

Your phone lights up with countless more messages from the Pogues as they take in your response. It's all a bit overwhelming. So, too tired to care you silence your phone and toss it aside. Just like everything else that isn't work, sleep, or bills; you could deal with it later.

Stomach growling, you decide you should get up and try to find something to eat. Making your way to the kitchen you think over everything you have to choose from, which isn't much.

Opening the fridge, your thoughts are further confirmed. It's practically a ghost town in this thing. You haven't had a chance to stop at the grocery store lately so there's not a whole lot to make. It's not like you have the money to go anyways.

Sighing, you close the fridge door and try to be creative with your limited options. Before you can even start to brainstorm though, there's several knocks at the front door.

Your eyebrows knit in confusion as you wonder who in the world it could be. You're definitely not expecting anyone, especially this late at night.

Slowly creeping to the front door, you nearly jump as more incessant knocking rings out through the house. Looking through the peephole your nerves both settle and start up again at the sight.

It's JJ. You know exactly why he's here before you even open the door, and that thought alone makes you nervous. You really don't feel like explaining yourself any further than what you sent in the groupchat, but it looks like that's finally starting to be unavoidable.

"JJ,' you say as you open the door, feigning as much joy as possible to try and throw him off. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? Y/N, what are you doing here? You were supposed to meet us hours ago and you never showed up."

The blonde lets himself in as he brushes past you. Blinking several times at the sudden intrusion, you close the door and begin to repeat yet again why you weren't there. "I told you-"

"No, don't. I don't want to her that bullshit excuse you sent in the groupchat because that's exactly what it is; bullshit."

Irritation flutters through your body as you take in JJ's words. "It's not bullshit, JJ! I did work today and just like I told you I passed out afterwards because of how exhausted I was! I can show you my damn timecard if you don't believe me."

Rolling your eyes you start to open the front door again, thinking it's high time JJ left. He's definitely overstayed his welcome if this is how he's gonna act.

"You know what? I think I would like to see your timecard. How about you show me all your timecards from the past week, month even!? Because it seems like all you do now is work."

The boy's words stop you in your tracks, hand on the doorknob. "I-I do not work all the time." You wince at your lack of confidence. You don't dare to turn towards JJ, knowing he'll instantly be able to tell you're lying.

"Yes you do, either that or you're lying to us, to me, about where you are every time we try to hang out or when I'm just checking in with you. There's clearly something going on." JJ's tone goes soft, concern seeping through his words as he continues. "Please look at me, Y/N."

Slowly, you turn towards him. You're trying your best to fight back tears, every instance of JJ or the others texting you flooding your mind. Every time you told them you had work when they tried to plan something or when you would cancel on them at the last minute when an extra shift opened up.

You thought you were doing good with hiding your problems and your excessive work and sleep schedule, but clearly you were wrong.

"There's nothing going on, J. I just get a lot of shifts at work, it's no big deal." Your voice gives at the end and you clear your throat to try and cover it up, but from the look on JJ's face, he's not believing any of it.

"C'mon, don't you think I know when there's something wrong with my girl?" The endearment has your eyes shooting to his, another sudden rush of emotion clogging your system. It's all too much to hold in, and you can feel the dam about to burst.

JJ apparently notices this too, because not a second later he's rushing forwards, his arms wrapping around you instantly. His warmth and familiar scent circling you.

The tears fall freely down your cheeks, soaking into JJ's soft, cotton shirt. Weeks worth of pent up emotion ravages your body, leaving you shaking and drained.

JJ leads you to the couch, sitting you both down but not letting go of you for even a moment. "Tell me what's wrong. I can't stand to see you like this."

Looking up at JJ, you try to regain your composure as he wipes away the tears on your cheeks. The subtle brush of his thumbs across your skin has you feeling warm and safe.

It's evident by the look on his face that the blonde isn't going to let this go. He'll sit here all night with you if he has to, that's how much he cares and how much he's worried about you.

There's a part of you, albeit small, that knows you should've confided in your friends about everything going on, should've confided in JJ at the very least. After everything you've been through together it should've been a given that you couldn't keep something from him for long.

Shaking your head, you try to think of where the hell to start. How do you just come out and tell someone you care so deeply for that you're struggling financially? Mentally? And that you have been for months?

Considering you don't even know where everything began, you just try you best to recount when it all started weighing heavily on you. You tell JJ about all the bills, about taking on a second job just to barely make ends meet. You tell him how depressed you've felt, how closed off, how tired.

It makes your heart hurt how JJ's eyes gloss over, how he shakes his head and scoffs in disbelief over everything. You know you're struggling badly right now, but to see how it effects someone when you finally say it all out loud makes it seem so much more real.

"I can't believe you've had to deal with all that, that you're still dealing with it." The blonde takes off the red hat he's wearing and runs his fingers through the waves that have been hidden there. "Why-Why didn't you tell me?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you bite your bottom lip to try and hold back the tears threatening to spill again. "I guess I just thought it wasn't worth it. I know you guys have things of your own to deal with, especially you, and I didn't want to add on any more burdens."

"Hey, no, none of that." JJ shakes his head and reaches out to hold your face within his hands. "Don't ever think that you can't come to me with something like this. Sure I've got a dead beat dad to deal with, but that's nothing I can't handle. I wouldn't let anything come between me being there for you. You're not a burden, not even a little bit. Especially not when you're dealing with something like this."

Overcome with emotions, all you can manage is a nod along with a smile, your heart feeing so full and so unlike what's it felt like for ages. Although everything is far from being solved, it's nice to know you have people to lean on, that there's someone who would do anything for you when it feels like you've been alone for so long.

Removing his hands from your face and wrapping them around you once more, JJ hums into the side of your head and you can't help but to let out a long sigh, trying to let go for just a moment and be here. It feels good to be wrapped in the Pogue's arms. To be honest, you could stay like this forever.

Before long, your mind is back to worrying about everything going on, about your difficult situation and how there seems to be no end in sight. "What am I gonna do, JJ?" You whisper while holding the boy a little closer, needing to feel grounded somehow.

Devastated by the broken sound of your voice and heartbreaking situation, JJ does his best to rack his mind of what he could do to help you. He'd offer you all the money he's got, but he knows you'd never accept it, not even as a gift. You're too proud and selfless to ever take money from anyone, especially not your best friends.

The boy grows restless, frustration and sorrow coursing through his body as your story replays in his mind. He can't wrap his head around how this has happened to you. Sure, it's not uncommon for those who live in Outer Banks, but the fact it's you rips him to shreds.

JJ thinks back on what he did when he was strapped for cash. Back to when he had to pick up the slack every time his old man went on a weeklong binge and didn't go to work for weeks on end. Suddenly, an idea comes to mind and the blonde rushes to offer it to you.

"What if-what if I talked to my boss to see if we can get you a serving gig or something where I work?"

You look up at JJ with skeptical eyes, not sure if what he's saying could really happen. "I don't know, J. I mean, are you sure? I tried to get in there when I was looking for a better job, but they weren't hiring."

"Yeah! I know I'm shit for a busboy but my word is good, and with your references you'd definitely get in! One of our servers just quit to go back to the mainland because she couldn't handle island life anymore, so it's perfect!"

You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips. This one sure has a way with words.

"C'mon, Y/N, it would be great for you. The pay is way better than the jobs you have now and the servers even get tips. You wouldn't have to have two jobs anymore and could worry a little less about bringing in money. The worst thing you'd have to deal with is the Kooks, but you know how to handle them better than anyone." A coy smile plays at the edge of JJ's pink lips. "Plus, you'd be able to see me a lot more too."

"Okay, I'd love that, thank you" you reply shyly. Looking away from JJ for a minute, you can't help the doubt creeping in all over again. "What if it doesn't work out, though? What if your boss already found someone. I can't be without a job, JJ. I need to make sure-"

JJ grabs your face, holding it in his hands just like he did earlier. The warmth instantly filling in the cold spots the fear began to create. "They didn't and you won't be. No matter what happens you still have the two jobs you've got now, but hell I'd quit and let you have my job if it means you can stop struggling with those. I mean it when I say, I've got you."

The boy flashes you a smile before leaning forward and placing a soft kiss on your forehead, doing anything to try and get you to feel better. Luckily, it works. You smile back and lean into one of his hands as heat rushes to your face.

"You really know how to make a girl feel better don't you, Maybank?" There's a hint of teasing in your tone, but you truly mean it as well. People may say JJ is a lot of things, but they can never say he's not a good friend.

"Anything for you, baby," he winks. Rolling your eyes, you push away from the blonde before he can get too cocky over the way he makes you feel. There's a smirk on your lips as you walk back towards the kitchen, stomach fluttering for more reasons than just being hungry.

Opening the fridge, you try to scrounge up an idea for what you can offer JJ. "You want anything to eat or drink? There's not much but I'm sure we can think of something."

"Yeah, starved! Forget cooking, though, you don't need to do all that. Let's go to The Wreck, you know I would die for one of Mr. C's burgers."

Laughing, you nod your head as you close the fridge and make your way to the front door. "That actually sounds amazing, let's go."

"Hey," JJ says, stopping you as you put your shoes on. "And don't worry, it's on me."

Tilting your head to the side, you look quizzically at the boy in front of you. "Kie's parents don't even charge us when we eat there?"

"Okay, yeah, but it's the thought that counts, right?"

"You're such an idiot," you laugh. JJ smiles at the sound and at the sight of your eyes gaining back a little bit of that sparkle he hasn't seen in a long time.

"But you still love me, though," he replies, not even needing to ask if that's true as he opens the door for you.

"I sure do."

As you make yourself comfortable behind JJ on his motorbike, you do your best to try and get your mind off everything. It's been hard to feel any sort of ease for as long as you've been dealing with this stuff, but with JJ it feels like for once you can just settle.

You have no idea if JJ's serving idea is gonna work out or what's gonna happen tomorrow. But you know at the end of the day you'll still have him, still have your friends, to help you figure it all out.

It's hard to open up about it all, but there's a part of you that knows it was the right thing to do with JJ. He's the greatest person you've ever met, and you wouldn't trade him for the world. And just like he said earlier, he's got you, and that's all that really matters.