#this is my most hastily put together set and you can tell

[byberbunk2069]

It’s just banter because they know eachother.

By which I mean she’s received citations from them before.

[moonstruckme]

Hey! I LOVE the comic you posted of the reader going to a club pre-relationship! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 to that of all of them going to a club together. With some jealousy, like when the reader goes to the bathroom on her way back she is getting flirted with by a random guy and the marauders reaction. Feel free to ignore

(Also I adore you comic that make my day every time I have re-read all of them at least 3 times!)

Hi lovely, thank you so much ! This took me forever to get to sorry, hope you enjoy it <3

part 1

cw: alcohol, unwanted/nonconsensual touch

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Your shriek cuts through the loud music, and you turn to Remus with an open-mouthed grin. 

“This is my favorite song!” you shout. 

He laughs. In the past half hour, four songs have been your favorite. “Yeah?” he asks. 

You nod happily, throwing your hands above your head as you spin. You’re tipsy twirly, surprisingly sprightly considering you’ve downed enough shots to get Remus hammered, and he’s got several inches on you and has been drinking since he was thirteen. 

Sirius is in a similar state. Remus and James have been steering the two of you around for most of the night, but now James has put himself in charge of crisis prevention, playing goalie between either of you and the bar. 

“Oh be fun, Prongsie,” Sirius wheedles after getting spun around by the shoulders for the upteenth time. “I know you can be fun.” 

“I am fun,” James agrees. “I have my most fun when I’m not cleaning up your vomit. Go dance with y/n.” 

You’re game for this plan, giving Sirius an enticing smile and moving your hips to the music in a way that makes Remus’ mouth go completely dry. He knows he’s not the only person in this club who’s noticed, but thankfully the little circle the four of you have made in the dance floor stays clear of intruders. Thus far, your prediction has proved correct; no other men have come up to you with your roommates around. He’s not particularly distraught about it. 

You seem oblivious to your own allure, laughing when Sirius hurries toward you like a called puppy. You take his hands, letting him twirl you around and then holding your arms up to twirl him in return, and at the chorus, you both jump around so that your hair flies all about. Your laughter is loud and sparkling. Remus sips his drink, entranced. 

There are two more favorite songs before you careen towards him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He hastily grips you by the elbow, wary of a fall, but you seem to have done this intentionally. You beam up at him, your smile lopsided and far less shy than anything he’s ever seen from you. 

“M’gonna go to the toilet,” you tell him, one word leading into the next like they’ve been sloppily tied together with string. 

“Oh, okay.” Of its own volition, Remus’ hand coasts up the back of your upper arm, then down to your elbow again. “Do you think you’re gonna be sick, honey?” 

Your face screws up as if this is taboo to mention. “What? No.” You make a funny pffting sound. “I’m miles off from that, I’m fantastic, it’s just,” you lower your voice, expression turning grave, “I think it’s time to break the seal,” you tell him meaningfully. 

This time it’s entirely intentional, but he also can’t help it. You’re just too cute. Remus sets his hand on the top of your head affectionately, grinning at you. “Alright, love, sounds good.” He looks around for the women’s bathroom, locating it a short distance away. “Want one of us to go with and wait outside for you?” It’s not like he can’t see it from here, but a girl as intoxicated as you probably shouldn’t be going anywhere by herself. 

“No, no, I’ve got it,” you say, patting his chest lightly. “Back soon.” 

It’s like you’ve disappeared into a mist, the way you fade into the crowd so quickly. It takes Remus a moment to spot the top of your head moving towards the bathroom. You turn around just before you go in, giving him a dazzling smile paired with a dorky thumbs-up. 

“Where’d she go?” James asks, holding his drink aloft while Sirius grabs for it. “And what has made you smile like that, Moony?” 

Remus makes a dismissive sound, but he feels his face heat as he takes a long sip of his own drink. James’ grin widens. 

“Ooh,” Sirius catches on. “What’d she say to you?” 

“Nothing. She’s gone to the toilet.”

Sirius’ kohl-rimmed eyes bulge, and James laughs, following his train of thought immediately. “Did she ask you to follow her? I didn’t think that was your style, you rake.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “You’re depraved.” 

It’s not long before you reappear, catching Remus’ eye on your way out of the bathroom like you knew he’d be looking. You give him another of those heart-stuttering smiles and head his way, weaving your way through the crowd with a drunken expertise. 

A happy glow of anticipation starts up in his chest, but you’re intercepted on the way. Another head, taller, steps in front of you, blocking Remus’ view. He cranes his neck, but he can’t see you. 

He must make some sound or simply be emanating discontent, because James is back at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?” 

“Someone’s talking to her. I can’t see her anymore.” He sounds ridiculous, like an overprotective douche, but he can’t imagine one can be too cautious when a drunk girl is surrounded by guys in a place like this. Remus is being purely practical. 

“Let’s go get her.” James is on board immediately, taking Sirius by the elbow and beginning to bulldoze his way through the crowd. Sirius grabs Remus’ hand just before the gap closes behind them, dragging him along. 

Remus hears you before he sees you. 

“Really, I appreciate it, but I’m not looking for anything.” Your voice sounds slightly tight, and Remus knows you well enough to tell by the sound of it that you’re giving whoever you’re talking to one of your big, fake smiles. 

A man’s voice says, low and sure, “You don’t mean that—” and that’s as far as he gets, because you interrupt to exclaim, with no small amount of relief, “My friends!” 

“Hi, sweetheart,” James says, and you’re right in front of them. You’ve cleaned up your makeup in the bathroom, the eyeliner that had transferred sweatily under your eyes now pristine again, and your smile is indeed giant and thin-lipped as you look between them and the man in front of you, subtly flaring your eyes. He reads the look clearly: Help, please!

Remus looks you over. The man has his hands on your hips and one of yours is around his wrist, a cautious touch. Sirius takes care of that quickly, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the wrist closest to him and removing it like it’s a piece of trash he found on the street. 

“Do you two know each other?” Remus asks. Without permission, his voice comes out gruff and accusatory. 

“No,” you say speedily, taking a step towards Sirius. Towards them. “I was just on my way back to you guys, actually.” 

“We were talking.” The man looks between the three of them scrutinously, like they’re threats. Remus doesn’t hate the thought of being a threat to this guy. 

“Sounded like you were done talking, mate.” James smiles easily. You’d have to really know him to hear the sharpness in his tone. 

Sirius snakes an arm around your waist, but you don’t shy from the bold touch. In fact, you lean into him, your smile slowly beginning to resemble the genuine article. “Wanna get another drink, baby?” Sirius asks you, gaze salacious. 

“Mhm.” You bob your head eagerly, and he leads you off, James and Remus following. “Thanks for the help,” you tell them as soon as you’re away. “He didn’t, like, do anything, but it was a bit intimidating.” 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” James replies, expression going a bit stormy now that he’s done feigning lightness. “And I wouldn’t say he didn’t do anything, he shouldn’t have put his hands on you like that.” 

“It’s whatever,” you wave it off so easily Remus’ heart gives a little throb. “What’re we drinking?” 

“Oh, that was a ploy,” Remus says. “We’re done drinking, remember?” 

You pout, and Sirius hugs your side sympathetically (entirely for your benefit, Remus is certain). “You mean we’re done,” he sneers. “You and Prongs get to have however much you want. Who made you king of the beer?” 

“I think you did, actually,” Remus says thoughtfully. “At Mary’s New Year’s party, remember?” 

Sirius sniffs, presumably because he does not.

[littlemissshoei]

Hello my dearest moxxie <3 is it okay if I request anything with hiori? Love ya

HEADCANONS

YO HIORI EDITION — NSFW & SWF

You asked and you shall receive! This actually made me realize just how little I've been writing about Hiori so this is the perfect way to change things up.

content warning: headcanons, suggestive / nsfw content, mentions of kinks, established relationship, a little bit of angst if you look closely, fluff.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI takes a while to open up to you. It's not that he doesn't trust you, he just has a hard time coming to terms with the fact someone is there for him. Your comforting words and the warmth you radiate whenever you hold him against your chest, hand lovingly combing through his hair as you listen so intently are simply unfamiliar territory. Once he comes to terms with it though he has no trouble telling you about anything and everything.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI enjoys spending quality time and is especially fond of skin to skin contact. Any chance he gets is spent laying down together, cuddled up against one another as you watch something.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI felt very nervous when he met your parents for the first time. He wanted to prove to them that he was the right choice for you, and he couldn't help but dread a disastrous first impression. He kept trying to find excuses to put the meeting off, rescheduling it, pretending to be sick. Ultimately, you realized what was bothering him and did your best to comfort him, letting him know just how perfect he is. The meeting ended up going really well and any bad feelings the male had felt until then dissapeared.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI has a mommy kink. While you were slightly taken aback when he called you mommy for the first time, it became endearing as time passed.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI feels all giddy inside whenever you take a seat next to him, eyes widened like a kid's in a sweets shop as you watch the screen in front of you with so much awe. He likes the way you ask questions to understand what he's doing, the way you cheer for him whenever he does a good job, but most importantly, he enjoys having you on his lap as he games, feeling your warmth seep into his skin.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI becomes very needy and clingy whenever you're gone for too long. The second you set foot into your shared apartment his long arms snake around your waist, dragging you towards the couch or your bed, — depending on how much patience he has — and kissing you sloppily, whispering needy praises into your mouth. He'd desperately grind his hips against you; wanting to be buried inside your tight and warm hole.

"Missed you s'much mommy...." His hands palm your clothed breasts, soft whines escaping his lips as he leaves a trail of open mouth kisses on your neck. "Missed you too Hiori..." "Can I fuck you... please..." "Yes, yes.." He hastily got rid of your clothing, not even caring about ripping them apart and soon enough he was rutting into you like a rabbit in heat, cock twitching inside you with every deep and desperate thrust. "Mm.. so good.. so.. so good.." He'd moan out, face buried into the crook of your neck as he bullied his length into your wet cunt. And he wouldn't stop until he emptied himself inside you, time after time.

→﹐﹒⟢ HIORI believes there is no other place more comforting than your chest and the way he can sneak his hand into your shirt, squeezing and fondling your breasts as he cuddles with you.

[juniefruit]

☆- biker bf minho -☆

y'all, happy almost friday. winter gloominess is kicking my butt fr. p.s, I like motorcycles, so this is totally not self indulgent...

word count: 946

Before you met, he was closed off and not really all that personable. His friends pestered him about it, too. He would never go back to living like that, though. Just looking at you brings a smile to his face without him realising it. Has he gone soft? Just for you. One thing he loves you for is that you understand his humor. He’s naturally sarcastic and witty. He can let his guard down around you and truly be himself. He knows when it’s time to joke around, or when to just chill out and take it easy.

Bonus points if you have a bike of your own, he would eat that up. Like, you get to go on little motorcycle adventures together? Sign him up. He loves when you can ride side by side looking cool af. 

Granted, he also loves having you on the back of his bike. He tries to act like having your arms wrapped around his waist doesn't affect him, but of course it does. He’s a sucker for physical touch, perhaps even touch starved before you started dating. When he has to speed up and he can feel your arms tighten… he has got to stay focused on the road. 

He looks absolutely godly in his tight leather riding gear. The jacket hugs his torso and shoulders just right, and the pants… (redacted)

If you have your own gear already, cool. If you don’t, he would love to go shopping with you to find something. It has to be perfect (his own words), because safety is the most important thing. 

So there’s this thing called a Cardo, but there's other brands too. It’s like a bluetooth speaker you can put inside your helmet, it can play music or act as a microphone. He got you one immediately. He couldn’t wait for Christmas, or Valentines, or your birthday. He’s too impatient for that. He enthusiastically ran up to you one day, with the box in his hand. For you!! He exclaimed. He helped you set it up, and afterwards, to test it out, he insisted you try talking through it in separate rooms. He was all smiles and giggles for the rest of the day. 

He’s not big on PDA, but he’s fine with holding hands or wrapping his around your waist in crowded spaces. Also, he definitely puts his hand on your lower back when he has to squeeze by or grab something near you, muttering a small ‘excuse me babe’. 

When you’re riding seperately, he will try to annoy you through the intercom. He’ll spew dad jokes, or honestly just make random noises. Until he figures out you muted him and he gets whiny and upset. You pull up to a stop light when he flips up his visor hastily. “Yah! y/nnie, did you mute me? What if I had something suuuper important to say?” 

Even though you constantly tell him to be careful… He knows his limits. As a biker, it’s in his blood to do at least a couple risky things a week. Whether it was a dare, or just to show off, he will pop a wheelie on the road. A couple times a month, he meets up with his other biker friends just to hang out. At first, you were intimidated. I mean, being surrounded by 8 biker dudes doesn’t sound too inviting. Minho promised they were nice, or at least some of them tried to be. He begged and whined, promising to take your share of cleaning the house for a week. When you finally complied, it really only took about 15 minutes but to Minho it felt excruciating. Minho gave you a soul crushing hug while repeating thank-you’s for a good while. Lucky for you, they were actually quite nice, but they take some getting used to. 

He definitely custom ordered sticker packs of his cats to plaster onto his helmet. He was so ecstatic when they came in the mail, and he spent the rest of the day showing off his newly decorated helmet to you. 

He definitely sends you funny videos or selfies of him in his gear while he’s out. He’s a victim of “helmet confidence”. Meaning, as long as nobody knows who he is, he’s 100% doing funny weird shit. It fuels something in him when he sees you flustered or embarrassed, it’s just a part of his nature. 

Motorcycles do require a bit of regular maintenance (if you want them to run properly) and over the years, Minho has learned how to do repairs on his bike at home. It’s cheaper than always going to the shop. He’s well versed in what his bike needs. He’s always offering up his help for your own bike. On bright spring days, the garage to your condo is pulled up, and the bikes are parked in the driveway. The bright green leaves are practically glowing as they shimmer against the blue sky. Minho’s got on a tank top and shorts; with a few tools by his side. When he calls you over, it’s because he made the executive decision to show you how to fix this one specific thing he’s working on.  You lean in close to him. His teaching voice is soft but firm as he’s always checking to see if you’re still paying attention. You’re more so paying attention to the way his biceps ripple when he moves, or the tiny sweat droplets forming on his brow. 

I would like to think that his motorcycle would be all black with a few mint/teal accents. It’s a sports bike, something along the lines of a Ninja or GSXR.

If you like drabbles like this, check out my masterlist :3

[callalillywrites]

His Scarred Omega Part 3

Part 2 / Series Masterlist

Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: It's Bucky's first outing with his daughter since he and Omega have talked. He's going to make sure Omega comes with them and they all have a good time.

Warnings: allusions to Omega's past, cheating (not Bucky or Omega), Alpha!Bucky (he's a warning starting now), insecurities (all characters), Bucky does a lot of pausing but then again, he's still processing the fact he has a daughter so he's allowed these moments

A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

Bucky can’t say he’s not nervous to spend his first real day with the daughter he never knew existed.

Yet, that doesn’t stop him from getting ready that morning, even if he does go through most of his closet before settling on a simple tee under his dark red henley and a pair of black jeans. He notes his locks are getting long enough for another cut soon as he shaves the stubble from his face.

On the way to Omega’s, he stops by a small flower shop and picks out two matching bouquets. One large, one small. While he’s not certain what the men have been like in his daughter’s life up to that point, he’s going to make sure she gains a certain standard she should expect from them, no matter what her designation ends up being.

That thought gives him pause.

She’s only a few years before they’ll learn her designation.

He’s missed so much of her life, and he can only hope that she’ll want him to be in the rest of it. He has no intention of bowing out now that he knows she exists.

If anything, he hopes to have her living with him before the year is out or at least spending half her time with him. He’s a little bit more open about this right now as he’s not certain how well this first meeting is going to go.

His thoughts come to a halt when he finally stands outside Omega’s place.

For the first time, he’s not sure if he’s worthy of either of them. He’s let his daughter down through his ignorance and he can only imagine what Omega has learned from Dot about him over the years. It doesn’t matter they’d been close to friends before his relationship with Dot had disintegrated. Can he ever measure up to what they need or want?

It’s a bit lost on him now how much his thoughts include Omega at this point, but that will change soon enough.

In fact, it starts to change when he finally manages to knock on her door.

When she opens it in a simple sundress with a jacket already set over it, he has to swallow and work to calm his inner Alpha that’s also noticed Omega and how sweet and pretty she looks. Oh, he’s in serious trouble here.

Hastily, he hands over the bouquet he got for her and tries not to preen when she actually smiles one of the prettiest smiles he’s ever seen on anyone. Her pleasant scent floats up to him and surrounds him in a way that no other Omega has ever managed to do.

“These are my favorites. How did you know?”

To his surprise, he manages to say, “You used to wear these flowers as crowns when you weren’t wearing ribbons in your hair.”

“You remember that?”

He can’t help nodding.

“No one has ever gotten me flowers before.” She takes a delicate sniff of the flowers before moving back so he can enter. “Thank you. Gracie should be out in a little bit. She’s been debating her outfit since she woke up. Just don’t tell her I told you that.”

“At least, she’s not alone. I kinda went through my entire wardrobe as well,” he admits quietly.

Omega’s smile brightens a bit more. “So, like father, like daughter. Good to know.”

That gives him some pause as he glances down what he presumes is the hallway to their bedrooms. “Does she know? That I’m her father?”

“Well, she’s a smart kid. She put two and two together the other day.”

This time, Omega’s smile dims as she meets his gaze with a serious one of her own.

“Don’t break her heart, okay? She’s a tough kid as she’s had to be, but she’s not someone to be tossed aside because she no longer fits in with what you might want.”

Bucky senses this warning has more to it than Omega’s willing to get into with him at that moment. He can wait, but he wants to hear that story.

Before he can say anything, Gracie emerges from her bedroom and shyly walks up to him.

Bucky drops to his knee so he can present her with the bouquet he’d gotten her. “These are for you, sweet girl.”

Gracie accepts the flowers from him though she’s not entirely sure what to do with them.

Omega helps her out by getting her a vase and some water, telling Gracie to set them carefully on her dresser in her room.

When Gracie comes back, she hesitates only a moment before she takes Bucky’s hand in her tinier one. She tugs him back to his feet before she asks, “What are we doing today?”

“Well,” Bucky pauses as he pretends to consider it until Gracie whines and Omega grins again, “I thought we could let you decide. I heard you like reading, and I know a good bookshop not too far from here. We can go to lunch wherever you like and then see how it goes from there.”

“Is Auntie coming with us?”

Bucky nods. “I can’t spoil you both if I only take one of you, now can I?”

“I don’t need to be spoiled,” Omega protests, spluttering.

“Well, I think I should consult with Gracie about that.” He shoots Omega a wink before turning his full attention on Gracie. “Does your Auntie need some spoiling?”

Gracie’s features twist into an expression of deep thought before a grin spills across her features as she nods enthusiastically.

“Well, it seems like the jury has decided your fate. Besides, you’re dressed for a day out, so let’s get to it, ladies.”

Bucky ushers them from their small apartment, noting the crappier lock on the front door. He’s going to fix that as soon as he can, wanting his daughter and Omega to be safe. The neighborhood isn’t the worst in the city, but it’s a lot older and a bit more rundown than the area he lives in.

Over the next couple of hours, he takes them to the bookshop he knows and finds Gracie has an almost equally voracious appetite for books as he does. The two large paper sacks they walk out with attest to that.

Omega does try to dissuade him from spoiling Gracie too much so early, but he refuses to be swayed. He even goes so far as to pick up the few books he saw Omega eyeing when she thought he wasn’t looking. The few extra dollars are no problem for his bank account, which has been steadily growing since his discharge from the military.

A nearby park draws their focus next as Gracie asks if she can play on the small playground for a little bit. She spies some unoccupied swings and soon has Bucky pushing her and sending her higher than she’s ever been before.

Sure, that makes Omega really nervous, but Bucky never lets Gracie get too far from his reach, showing how he can reach the young girl should she need his assistance.

They don’t leave the park for a while, either.

Gracie loves being outdoors and hasn’t had a lot of time since their arrival in town a few weeks ago.

She drags Bucky and Omega through the rest of the playground until she spies the small pond and the few feeder machines where she can feed the few ducks taking up residence nearby.

When an overly eager duck gets a little too close to Gracie, Bucky swings her into his arms while their shopping bags easily shift to his other hand. He has her toss down the remainder of the food she’s gotten from the machines before leading the way back a safe distance.

With Gracie’s stomach now growling, he sets her down and retakes her hand in his.

“Where shall we eat, milady?”

Since Omega and Gracie are newer to the area, Bucky ends up taking them to a small restaurant that specializes in kid-friendly meals (thanks to some help from Jake and his niece).

It’s during their time here that Bucky gets his first real chance to talk to Gracie while Omega uses the restroom.

“Are you having a good time, milady?”

Gracie nods though her gaze remains on the kids’ menu she got. Her concentration never breaks as she carefully colors in the one of the little critters in a corner. She’s already completed all the little puzzles and games on the back of the sheet.

“What else would you like to do today? We’ve got the whole day.”

At this point, she looks up. A small frown mars her features, something she hasn’t done since he’s picked them up.

“What about tomorrow? Or during the week? Will you still have time for me then?”

The way she asks breaks something within Bucky. It’s the way she’s trying so hard to remain hopeful, yet a niggle of disappointment lurks right under that hope, threatening to dampen or squash it.

“Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.”

Bucky takes the chance to rest his hand over hers, stopping her coloring efforts as he continues, “I’m so sorry I haven’t been in your life until now, but that’s going to change. I promise you I will always be here whenever you need me and even when you don’t.”

“What about Auntie? You going to be there for her, too?”

Bucky dares a glance towards the bathrooms. “Yeah, if she’ll let me.”

“Did you love my mom?”

Bucky nods because he had cared a great deal about Dot back then. He can’t say for sure that those feelings haven’t dwindled over the years, especially now that he’s learned about his daughter’s existence after being kept from her for so long.

“Yeah, I did, and I like your Auntie before you ask. She was always sweet to me whenever I spent time with your mom and their family. Your Auntie always made me feel welcome. I can’t remember a time she didn’t have a smile on her face.”

“She doesn’t smile that much anymore. Not since Mom died and the alpha who promised to love Auntie for the rest of their lives.”

Curiosity gets the better of Bucky, spurring him to ask, “What was that alpha like? The one who promised to love your Auntie.”

Gracie shrugs her shoulders.

She resumes her coloring for another moment before she finally says, “I think he liked Mom more than he ever did Auntie. He always disappeared with Mom into her room whenever Auntie had to go to work. I saw bite marks on Mom that shouldn’t have been there a few days before she died. The alpha had the same marks on his neck, too.”

Bucky’s stomach rolls at the implication Gracie’s words have.

He can’t imagine the pain Omega has gone through at the hands of her sister, the one person she should’ve been able to count on. He can’t help wondering if Dot had been faithful to him during their short year together.

A glance at Gracie tells him she had to be faithful enough with his spitting image sitting across from him.

That doesn’t stop the burn of anger that churns his stomach at the thought.

Omega’s always been something precious to him though he’s never been able to say why that is. Of all the disappointments he’s had in his life, losing Omega as a friend has to rank as one of his highest.

As if his thoughts have conjured her, Omega returns to the table and conversation shifts to safer topics.

Though, he knows he’ll be coming back to this as soon as he can with Omega when they’ve had some time to reconnect.

Right now, he’s going to focus on getting to know his daughter.

With the success of their first outing together, Bucky makes plans with Omega to continue seeing Gracie and Omega over the weekends.

Things are progressing well as he grows closer to Gracie, who slowly opens up to him more and more. She still calls him by his first name, but he’s okay with it as long as he continues to make progress with her.

The hope is one day she’ll want to call him Dad, but he can wait until then.

He’s fixed up their apartment’s front door with better security and taken other measures her landlord couldn’t be bothered with. When something breaks, Bucky is there as soon as Omega calls him with his toolbox, which he’s expanded since she and Gracie came into his life.

It’s still too soon, but he knows he’s falling for Omega as much as he’s already fallen for his daughter.

*****

Verse Masterlist / Main Masterlist

[wexhappyxfew]

SHANNON!! You know how much I love the Silver Bullets girls, so I freaked when I saw you posted this!! You also know I love angst (who doesn't, right?). So, could I possibly get Bucky x Kennedy with the prompt, "Hands off!" OR "You'll back off if you know what's good for you."

I couldn't choose which one I liked more lol!! Protective Bucky is my absolute FAV! I know it is going to be amazing!! Thank youuuu!💕🫶

MADS!!!!! HELLO MY FRIEND!!!! so lovely to see you both in the inbox and sending in this duo and prompt! :D i saw it and was immediately like - mads you are a GEM - because protective bucky IS the absolute best!!!! THANK YOU FOR THE SILVER BULLETS LOVE!!! they're my girls and are a joy to write so truly thank you :) your love and support has meant so so much!! i DO know you are an angst lover too hehe, so i decided to take a look at the earlier days of kennedy x bucky knowing one another (with extended cameos from judy and paulina - paulina who i wanted to work with more since i have written a lot of her yet), and dealing with...a rather precarious moment in which bucky is VERY MUCH being protective over the SB girls (with hints of kennedy x bucky of course because that's what makes the world go 'round). i went with the second prompt because i just couldn't help myself with that prompt - it's just too good!!! so please enjoy!!! <333333

far less losses

(a/n): you remember when judy mentioned that john egan has an 'awful soft spot for the Silver Bullets crew'? well....here we are, with bucky showing off that soft spot (which also equates to his soft spot for a certain kennedy farley) all on display. SO -- please enjoy kennedy, judy and paulina, with a bit of bucky being well....bucky haha! please enjoy and thank you again! <3

"I think it's cute!" Judy exclaimed with a smile from beside Kennedy in the mirror in the bunk room the Silver Bullets girls were camped out in, "Truly, Kenny, just even taking those few extra minutes to pull a few pieces of hair away from your beautiful face always makes you feel better."

Judy was right - and she usually was.

After a rather depleting mission that morning, Kennedy had been feeling like laying down and staring at the ceiling for the rest of the evening was her ultimate goal, but Judy Rybinski had found her and convinced her to pull on her Class-A's and take an hour or two to destress in the local pub.

Kennedy shifted herself side to side in the mirror, her thick ginger hair that was usually pulled back from her face in a poor-looking ponytail or hastily put-together braids, appreciating the extra minute Judy had taken in telling her to leave her hair down and clip up some stray pieces behind the lower part of the crown of her head.

"This looks nice." Kennedy said, her voice sounding strange at the sight of seeing herself actually looking quite pretty. Usually covered in grease, dirt and other substances that she didn't even want to know of, seeing her face so bright and clean, her brown eyes light and alive, made her smile a bit.

"You look so pretty, Kenny," Judy said from beside her in the mirror, glancing up at her with the most genuine look on her face, "seriously, you could walk in any pub in England and they'd think that it's Rita Hayworth." Kennedy couldn't help but grin at Judy's words as she took in all angles she could.

"Oh, c'mon, Judy," Kennedy said, glancing down at the ball gunner, "you could do much of the same and they'd think it's Ingrid Bergman."

"That's mighty kind of you Kenny," Judy said with a chuckle, her face glowing, "Ingrid is quite the star, isn't she? Top compliments from Kenny Farley herself."

"What can I say? I'm a miracle worker at the best of times." Kennedy said and Judy laughed again, before looking up to Kennedy softly.

"Let's go get some drinks." Judy said, "Forget about whatever the hell today was, right?"

The walk across base with the sun nearly set was quite peaceful, especially in the summer months - it almost felt like home in some weird way.

Growing up with both older and younger siblings - all brothers - she'd spent enough of her summer days outside from dawn to dusk, drinking her mother's fresh-made lemonade, peeling oranges and eating cheese sandwiches, catching frogs, playing in the streets, making a fair attempt at a ball game where she was usually one of the only girls (having brothers made you automatically a part of the line-up, even if you struck out 90% of the time, she got better though).

She'd come inside, sweating, covered in dirt and grass, with her freckles on full display and her mother would tell her to go and get herself cleaned up for dinner. And everything would smell like fresh lavender soap and soft linen, and dinner would be roasted chicken, carrots, potatoes, asparagus, all the fixings, more lemonade, cookies for desert. Her mother would have to make multiple batches just to feed all her hungry kids.

And her dad would come back from work and be cracking jokes, telling them stories from work, what he had done that day. Something about summer, at home, in Boston.

My how the times had changed from then to now.

The local town pub was a place she'd been a few times, but each time it was much of the same when she got in. It was in fact like entering a whole different world that was separated from both summer and Thorpe Abbotts.

Everything smelled like beer and smoke, there was also music playing, people dancing and without a doubt, every corner you turned, you were shaking hands with someone, introducing yourself and saying your hellos. A home away from home. And it was quite the eclectic mix - USAAF and RAF pilots and crew members all together, local town people, Land Girls. Enough of a comfort though so you could enjoy your drink and meet a new face or two.

"Pretty crowded." Judy said from beside her as they stepped inside and took their ganders around, "Never seen so many people shoved in one place."

"One too many bad missions seems to send everybody here, I won't lie, Judy." Kennedy said, reaching up to tuck some hair back over her shoulder, and letting her eyes glance around again.

"Look who decided to show up." Judy and Kennedy looked up to see Paulina, resident radio op, coming towards them, her long, dark hair elegantly curled, her red lipstick making an appearance again that reminded Kennedy starkly of their training days where Paulina was always going on about the importance of always carrying a tube of lipstick where she went. She always said that you'd never know who'd you see - Christ, Cary Grant could show up and you'll be thanking yourself for that damn tube of lipstick!

"Thought you were staying in?" Kennedy shrugged.

"Judy dragged me out. Promised to pay for a drink."

"Hey!" Judy said looking to Kennedy and teasingly shoving at her shoulder, "I didn't say a thing about paying! I told ya that you needed to get out. Destress. Ya know?" Paulina snickered and glanced to Kennedy who smirked.

"And���I didn't drag you out. I was just convincing enough to get you outta that bunk room." Judy said, "It's a good trait to have, isn't it, Pauli?"

"That's right," Paulina said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around Judy's shoulders, "let's get you two some drinks, alright? And….just so you know, Lieutenant Bradshaw offered to open a tab, so….go crazy, I don't know….I guess she could see plenty of the looks on our faces."

"She's a sweetheart." Judy said with a smile.

"She always knows," Kennedy said quietly as they moved towards the bar, "she's good like that. Reminds me of Birdie."

"She always reminds me of Birdie." Paulina said with a sad smile, "Maybe it's a sign from Birdie up above. Letting us get ourselves Annie Bradshaw as our pilot. You know?"

"I take any sorta stuff like that as a sign," Judy said as they approached the bar and called for three beers, "there's no one like Birdie, but there sure as hell isn't a soul like Annie Bradshaw."

"You ever think about what might've happened if Birdie hadn't gotten hit?" Paulina asked as the tender brought their beers and gave them a smile - Paulina took a long, hard sip before sighing, "Just….things would be so different, but we woulda never met Annie. I don't fucking know, it's weird to think about sometimes."

Kennedy and Judy exchanged quiet glances, but it wasn't like Paulina was lying. Sometimes it was weird to ponder a thing like that - if Birdie had never died and they had never met Annie. And then in moments like this, Kennedy always though that life worked to do things in ways that were always meant to be and clearly what had happened was meant to be, despite the circumstances.

And Annie Bradshaw was always meant to be Silver Bullets' command pilot in place of Birdie Faulkner.

That was one thing for sure.

"Good evening." All three of their heads turned to find one of the RAF pilots they'd seen hanging around in the weeks previous coming towards them, his eyes catching Kennedy's in a way that made her slowly shift her gaze away and sip at her drink again. She sighed. Paulina rolled her eyes.

"Evening." Paulina said slowly, lifting her mug of beer towards him before sipping it and growing quiet. Judy glanced at Kennedy, who gave her a quiet look.

Many of the men that were outside the 100th were usually nice and cordial to them. There'd been some off-handed, unneeded comments before about women in aviation, but they'd heard enough of it to ignore any sort of comment like that. They'd heard it all. For months. Some for years. Ignorance was bliss.

"You three wouldn't happen to be part of the lady crew in the 100th would you?" he asked them, sipping his beer slowly and meeting all their gazes, "I've just had quite the conversation with your Annie Bradshaw if you are. Sweet girl."

"It's Lieutenant." Kennedy offered his way, meeting his gaze again, "She's our pilot."

"Ah," the RAF - Kennedy thought he was a pilot it seemed - pilot said, with a nod, "very sweet girl." Paulina shifted beside Kennedy and sighed.

"Command pilot." Paulina muttered under her breath.

"Anything else?" Judy asked, almost sweetly, but slightly like she were undercutting his words in a way where she wanted to try and disperse the interaction as quickly as possible, "We've had a long day." The RAF pilot glanced at her and smiled, before glancing at Kennedy and Paulina.

"Long day? What ever was the matter?" he asked them and then chuckled slightly and sipped his beer again, "Right - you fly during the day, am I correct?"

"Here we fucking go," Paulina said, pushing back from the bar table, looking ready to start swinging, but Kennedy held her arm and looked to the RAF pilot again, "I swear to God, Kenny."

"We do." Kennedy said, "Why? Is there a problem with that?" The RAF pilot chuckled.

"No, no, not at all. Just curious." Kennedy leaned forward and raised a brow.

"Curious. Curious, curious, curious - what are we curious about it. We've been doing it ever since we came across the fucking pond-"

"What we're trying to say," Judy said interrupting her and giving both Kennedy and Paulina a look, "that's just what we do. We do days, you do nights. Either way, we're pounding the Germans day and night and you should be really thankful for that. You do what you all do, and we do what we do. And it works."

"You'd have far less losses." he offered, in a way that sounded condescending - it made Kennedy's skin crawl.

Far less losses.

Birdie.

Birdie invaded her mind like she always did.

"Listen, we just finished a really crappy mission," Kennedy said, leaning forward and gently wrapping an arm over Judy's shoulders and pulling her closer back from the RAF pilot, "we can pick up this conversation another time."

"Apologies, apologies," the RAF pilot said, holding up his hands in a pitiful, mock-defense, "I'm only commenting on such happenings. Nothing more."

"Commenting-" Kennedy started, but another voice entered her ears.

"Evening."

"Major." the RAF pilot said, suddenly straightening up, sticking out his hand to shake, and his eyes turning glossy, that earlier determination and confidence dwindling.

Kennedy slowly looked back over her shoulder and watched as Major Egan, the smell of beer and cologne wafting off of him, came to a stop beside the three of them there, looking towards the RAF pilot with a face that was the closest to stone-cold that there could be. And Major Egan was not the best at schooling his emotions and concealing what he was actually feeling, but he was doing a pretty damn good job right now.

"What are we talking about?" Major Egan asked, his voice deeper than Kennedy had heard it before, as he crossed his arms and straightened his back, looking directly at the RAF pilot, "Go on, don't mind me."

"Uh, well-"

"Just about our missions," Judy butted in sweetly, looking up at Major Egan, "sir, we were just discussing our….rather interesting differences. But that we bomb the Germans all the same."

"Really?" Major Egan said, almost sarcastically, his smile wide on his cheeks, his voice a crack higher, his tone one that he always had when he was trying to hide his annoyance, "Thank you for that Rybinski, really valuable information." Major Egan looked at the RAF pilot. "You should've just come and talked right with me. These ladies have had a long day. Up at 0300 and still making it out here. They don't wanna have to discuss anything with missions and all. You should know." The group fell quiet as the RAF pilot rather loudly and quite nervously slurped at his beer.

"I just knew they were apart of the lady crew. With Annie Bradshaw-"

"Lieutenant Bradshaw-" Major Egan offered.

"-and I just figured I'd have a chat with them. Never did do much talking about missions with a lady crew before."

"Oh and it's bound to be your last-" Major Egan commented.

"Sir-" Kennedy said looking to him and giving him a look as he met her gaze. Something in his eye told her that he was going to stop until this RAF pilot walked away and she was almost too tired to care if he did say something more or not.

"What's all this about a lady crew, too?" Major Egan said, "They're another one of our crews in the 100th. Did all the same training we did, same shit." Major Egan chuckled. "You wouldn't know that because you were here, what? Drinking warm beer and complaining about the sun-shining, huh? Upset it wasn't nighttime-"

"Major." Paulina said looking up at him, "Just ignore him, we were going to go find Lieutenant Bradshaw anyway."

"Nah, nah," Major Egan said, stepping forward, closer to the RAF pilot this time - the height difference was palpable, with the RAF pilot looking upwards and Major Egan looking downwards, like some sort of quiet conversation being exchanging between the two, "gotta name?"

"Uh, Langley, sir-"

"Langley." Major Egan said, with a funny tone to his voice that was clearly making fun of the way the RAF pilot had said it, "Where the hell you from, Langley?"

"Birmingham. Sir."

"Oh, you're gonna start calling me sir, now, huh?" Major Egan said glancing back at the group of the three of them and grinning that sarcastic, shit-eating grin and pointing over his shoulder, "He called me sir, what a fucking character." Major Egan turned back to the RAF pilot and let his face grow cold.

"The crew is Silver Bullets and they're apart of the 100th just like myself," Major Egan said, "and they've had a long day. All of us have, got it? So, you'll back off if you know what's good for you. And leave these ladies alone and run along to you and your British friends, alright? Get yourself some warm beer, too."

"It's not really super warm-"

"You drink warm fucking beer." Major Egan said with a look, hands on his hips this time, "Go on."

Slowly Kennedy glanced back at the RAF pilot and watched as his brain seemed to rewire, licking his lips quickly as he did so, before retreating like a dog with its tail between its legs. The three of them watched as Major Egan watched the RAF pilot turn to leave, ducking out of the pub with the beer in his hand. Major Egan turned to them, a grin on his face, clearly satisfied with the words that had left his lips and then met her gaze.

"What a guy," Major Egan said, as Kennedy held his gaze, her cheeks heating slightly as she looked back to her beer sat, the glass practically melting on the beer and sighed, "these RAF pilots got a set to be saying stuff like that to you all."

"He said he talked to Lieutenant Bradshaw, sir," Judy said looking up to Major Egan who leaned up the bar beside her, "called her a sweet girl and all. He couldn't even seem to fathom the idea of Annie flying planes." Judy chuckled and looked to Major Egan again. "He probably would've fainted on the spot to hear that we actually are pretty efficient as an all-female bombing crew." Major Egan chuckled at her words and raised a hand for a beer.

"Got that right, Rybinski." Major Egan said with a smile Judy's way before looking to Kennedy and Paulina, "Everyone doing okay after today?"

One thing Kennedy always appreciated with their leaders was that they recognized the toll missions like that took on people - whether if they showed it on their faces or not, their eyes always spoke in ways they couldn't. And he could see that, that much was true.

"I have a cold beer in my hand, sir," Paulina said with a smile, "that's enough to be thankful for after today I must admit." Major Egan let the corner of his lip poke upwards and glanced at Kennedy.

"Farley." Major Egan said, his voice a drip softer than it had been when he'd first come over, "You're quiet."

"And when Kenny Farley's quiet," Judy said with a small smile, "you know the mission today was beating us more than helping us, sir." Major Egan looked to Judy with a saddened smile on his face before looking back at Kennedy.

"Just thinking about something that pilot said, sir," Kennedy said, looking to Paulina and Judy before looking back to him again, lacing and unlacing her fingers over and over again in a nervous way, "reminded me of Birdie." The group of four grew quiet at her words.

"Just when he was going on, sir, about flying night missions," Kennedy said with a nod, "something like we'd have far less losses than if we flew at night. And it just….I don't know, shit like that bothers me. Because he clearly knew about our crew sir, which meant he oughta have heard about Birdie." Major Egan's eyes shifted to hers again, before he glanced back over his shoulder towards the doorway, shuddering his shoulders and letting out a disgruntled groan. He reached forward to take a long sip of his beer and then stood up from the bar and looked to them.

"Come find me if another one of these smucks has another fucking comment," Major Egan said, reaching up to run a hand through his dark curls on his head, before offering a smile, "no one makes comments about the Silver Bullets crew without me hearing about it, alright?" Then he turned and Kennedy couldn't help but step forward and wrap her hand around his upper arm and look up at him.

"Don't do anything stupid, sir," Kennedy said, looking up at him knowingly, "you can have your thoughts about Silver Bullets and our crew, but other people don't like the looks of a woman in the service, nor a whole bombing crew. Don't go getting yourself into more trouble than is needed, sir, alright?"

"Farley," Major Egan said, reaching up to rest a hand on her shoulder, "I've already made enough comments towards them, about them, for them to build a bridge to the States and back. Defending you all ain't much trouble." Kennedy stared at him and fell quiet. "Look, I just got a few choice words for him. That's all."

"Those choice words better involve, don't say that sorta shit like that again and then a firm goodbye and no more, sir," Kennedy said looking at him, "you don't need that face sporting anymore black eyes."

"You think I got a pretty face, Farley?" Major Egan said, looking sideways at her with that award-winning grin again, pearly whites shiny and bright, his eyes squinty, his gaze on her. Kennedy stared at him, the tops of her cheeks turning red as she suddenly felt herself stand quite still, "Go back and enjoy a drink with Stagliano and Rybinski without someone like him hanging over you. Don't worry about me." Kennedy watched him and then slowly nodded.

"Thanks for that back there by the way, sir," she said, quicker than she wanted, her eyes holding his, "it was a long day, with the mission and all. We just wanted a night out without thinking about it, sir, ya know?" Major Egan smiled and bumped her shoulder.

"Think of it as free entertainment." Major Egan said with a grin, before nodding towards the door, "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to head out for a bit. Enjoy your beer." He quirked out a grin. "You should wear your hair like that more often." And with that, he was stepping away, running his hand through his own hair and stepping outside the pub again. Kennedy watched him go, her cheeks flaming red - the fact he had noticed her hair was enough for her to swallow it down and forget about it. She turned and slid back to the bar, in between Paulina and Judy.

"What'd he say?" Paulina asked, bumping her shoulder, "Looked pretty damn happy about telling that guy off."

"I think he's probably gonna take a punch to the face, but he's going to go send the message home it seems." Kennedy said quietly as Judy giggled, "What?"

"The look on his face when he saw you weren't the happiest camper, oh Kennedy, it was real sweet." Judy said as Kennedy sipped her beer and ignored the swirl in her stomach and crimson on her cheeks, "He's just sweet on us, you know that. They all are. They'd defend us tooth and nail any day."

"See," Paulina said, leaning towards Kennedy and dropping her voice so only Kennedy and Judy could here, "could've put on that tube of red lipstick even just for him."

"Pauli!" Kennedy admonished and Judy giggled.

"You ain't ever gonna forget it, Kenny, never!"

[aritsukemo]

My Abandoned WIP Works #1

Warnings: Spoilers to the Fontaine Archon Quest up ahead!!!

Summary: Just some works I'll ( most likely ) never finish because I lost motivation, didn't know how to end it, found the plot boring and didn't know how to spice it up, or similar problems like that.

Not what was expected | Mikey S. ( Problem: Lost motivation/Couldn't find a way to wrap everything up )

"So what do you think she looks like?" Chifuyu asked the captains and vice captains as he sat on one of the steps that led to the shrine; The place majority, if not all, of Toman meetings took place.

"Who?" Takemichi—better known in the gang as 'Takemitchy'—asked.

"Oh, you talkin' about her." Ken—more commonly known as 'Draken'—said as he finally connected the dots, "Well actually she's—"

"Bet she has a nice ass," Smiley interrupts, having no shame as he continues, "Or maybe a great set on her. 'Doubt boss would date some pancake."

"Huh?" Takemichi blurted out, feeling dumbfounded as he rapidly turned his head, hastily glancing at each one of them with a mixed look of astonishment and confusion which gets a small chuckle out of Mitsuya.

"They're talking about Mikey's partner. Y'know, the person we're supposed to be meeting today?" Mitsuya clarifies.

"Why else do you think only the captains were summoned?" Chifuyu added with an unnecessary roll of his eyes. Takemichi shoots him a him.

"Well if only the captains are supposed to be here, why are you here?" Takemichi retorts.

"I go wherever you go because you're too much of an idiot to be left alone," Chifuyu explained, earning a loud 'Hey!' from his best friend, "Plus, I got the okay from Mikey before I came. All of us did. Why else do you think only we're here and not everyone?"

Upon saying that, Takemichi looks around and finally takes notice of all the members who actually came. Besides the ones who spoke up, there was only Angry, who was standing off to the side next to his twin. No sight of anyone from the fifth division or any of the other vice captains to be seen.

"I hope she's not an asshole at least.." Angry mumbled after a while. His tone soft despite the scrunched, angry expression that gives off a completely different vibe.

"Actually—" Draken attempts to speak up only to be cut off again, this time by Takemichi.

"I've never heard of Mikey talk about any girls before," He said before murmuring in a lower tone, "I didn't think he'd be interested in dating at all.."

"Apparently they've been dating for a while," Chifuyu spoke up, "Or at least, that's what I assume. I don't think he'd put so much effort into us meeting them otherwise."

"They're pretty close," Draken confirms, "But I think you guys have the wrong idea. Mikey isn't—"

Before the words could leave his lips, the familiar engine of Mikey's CB250T steals everyone's attention. And as the sound grows louder, Mikey quickly comes into view with..

..a guy. Wait, what?

"Hey guys," Mikey greeted nonchalantly despite the multiple reactions of surprise he's met with. Behind him, his partner, a small—even shorter than Mikey—rather thin male cautiously steps off the bike and cautiously walks closer.

"Uhm.. Hi, I'm Y/n, Manjiro's..uh.. You probably already know.." The boy spoke softly, scratching the back of his head, "I- I've heard so much about you guys so I'm glad we finally have the chance to meet. Although I feel a little bad about Manjiro making you guys come all the way out here just for introductions sake.."

Silence.

Baking Disaster | Chifuyu M. and Kazutora H. ( Problem: Didn't think anyone would like the idea and eventually lost motivation all together )

"So, do either of you mind telling me why what just happened...happened?"

Silence. Chifuyu sighs, his eyes involuntarily drifting to the counter where an entire tray—of what he can only assume were cookies—sits atop a towel, the smell it's producing tingling his nose the more it invades it. He looks back over at the two people in front of him, his two partners, both of which covered in flour, batter, and bearing crestfallen expressions. He sighs again.

"It was my fault," Y/n is the one who ends up saying something first, speaking softly as they stare at their feet. And at the sound of their confession, the black and yellow-haired male beside them looks over at them.

"No it's not," He retorts before glancing back over at Chifuyu only to immediately look away as soon as their eyes lock, "It was all my fault. I wasn't paying attention like I should've and now the kitchen's a mess.."

"'Tora's lying," Y/n speaks up again, this time more firmly, "I was the one who set the temperature on the stove too high and burned the cookies. You should blame me."

"I was the one who pour too much butter into them which made them catch fire like that. I'm at fault here," Kazutora says, his guilt-filled eyes locking with his lover.

"We don't know if that's for sure what caused it. I accidentally spilled a bunch of flour into the bowl when you weren't looking and didn't tell you. Not only that, but I completely froze when I realized the fire. You don't have to take the blame for my sake."

"I'm only taking the blame because I'm the one who caused it, love."

"I was the one who caused the fire though, I should be blamed for this." Y/n retorts.

"You wouldn't have made any mistakes if it weren't for me dragging you to the kitchen instead of letting you rest. You've been swamped with assignments ever since your break ended and the moment you finally had a little free time to sleep, I came and bothered you."

"Now you know that isn't true. I offered to help you out since you said you were going to make Chifuyu something."

"Wait, wait, wait," Chifuyu interrupts, his words thrown out rather hastily as his hand waves on beat to his voice, "Those over there.. They're for me?" He questions.

"Well, they were for you, yeah.." Y/n says, voice growing quiet more towards the end of their sentence as they stare at the charred pastries from afar.

"You could say I- er..we wanted to show our appreciation by surprising you," Kazutora says, sounding more dejected as he adds, "But because of me, that didn't happen.."

"Why would you go through all of this trouble anyways?" Chifuyu asks, raising his eyebrow. Not expecting the look of bewilderment he got from the two of them.

"Are you seriously asking us that?" Y/n questions, "Yeah, are you serious?" Kazutora adds, "You do so much for us. You always try to help Y/n with her assignments even though you have no knowledge or experience on the material."

"You did everything you could to cheer up Kazutora when he lost his job at that convenience store a little while back. Hell, you even took on a second job to buy us those expensive ass gifts for Valentine's Day last week," Y/n adds, rolling their eyes as they ask, "The real question is, why didn't we do this sooner?"

Chifuyu chuckles, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his head, "Well all this meant so much to you two, I should thank you guys for your efforts.." Without any further hints, Chifuyu walks over to the counter, both Y/n and Kazutora's eyes widening behind him as he pries one of the black, cindered cookies off the damaged tray, "..It's only right that I give it a taste, right?"

"Chifuyu, wait/No, you shouldn't—" Before either of them could stop him, Chifuyu bites down. He struggles to chew the piece he bit off which cause Y/n to cringe, but it does little to stop him chomping through and swallowing it.

"Wow," He drawls, "This tastes as horrible as I thought it would, maybe even worse.."

"We tried to warn you.." Kazutora says, now feeling even more embarrassed and remorseful about the outcome. To his surprise, Chifuyu takes another bite.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"What does it look like I'm doing, I'm enjoying my snack." Chifuyu replies, voice muffled as he gnaws at the cookie

"You just said it tasted awful," Y/n says.

An Utterly Devoted Familiar | Furina ( Problem: Didn't know how to wrap things up in the way I wanted to and eventually gave up )

Knocks vibrate throughout the apartment, soft and simple only to become loud and incessant after a while without being acknowledged. The owner of the apartment—who had been so rudely awoken by the noise—arose from her bed with a sour look on her face. Her heterochromic, ocean-like eyes burning with fire as she scans her room for her slippers.

"Coming, coming..! Gosh.." She shouts in a rather grumpy manner when the knocking continued. Understandably so. It was the middle of the night and someone, who clearly has no mind for other people's sleep, was banging on her door like some madman. Anyone in her shoes would've been pissed.

Honestly, do people have no respect these days? To just disrupt someone's sleep without a care in the world what could possibly be so important?

After finally finding her slippers, Furina practically stomped out of her room and up to her door. She was planning on giving whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind for waking her up and then go back to bed when she cooled down, but as the door swings open and Furina is met with the perpetrator, all her anger is washed away like a seashell against a water current.

There, standing before her with their fluffy ears twitching eagerly atop their head and pastries in hand, was the Hydro Archon's—Furina's former companion, you.

"You finally answered, my lady!" You chirped, "I'm so glad! Heh, for a second there, I thought I had the wrong address.."

She was at a lost for words. Why were you here? And why did you seem so happy? After everything came to light and Fontaine found out she was a sham, she was sure she'd never see you again..

So why in the world are you standing at her doorstep?

"Y/n.." She mumbled out in disbelief, but you seemed rather pleased nonetheless. Your name always sounded so lovely whenever it came from her lips.

"May I come in, my lady?" You ask after a while of her staring at you as if she'd seen a ghost, "If not, I don't mind standing here."

"Oh! Uh- No! Come in!" What is she saying? She should be shooing you away, not welcoming you in! "Sit wherever you'd like!" She continues anyway, stepping aside.

Obviously pleased, a smile graces your face and you walked in without hesitation, marveling in awe at her home as if it was made of gold or something.

"This place is so cute! You've decorated well, my lady!" You praise and she has to resist visibly cringing in response to your praise. In all honesty, her place wasn't much to look at. In fact, the place was quite barren since she hadn't gotten around to decorating it yet..

"Thank you.." She forces out, avoiding your piercing gaze as it falls on her. She turns on her heel, showing her back to you as she slowly, hesitantly closes the door.

"So..uhm, what brings you here at this hour?" She finally asks after taking her time to lock her door and turn to you; silently gulping when she locks eyes with your slited ones. Your eyes were always so intimidating to her for some reason.

"I wanted to see you of course!" You gleefully say, "But I've been so busy with running errands for Monsieur Neuvillette lately so I hadn't had the time."

You look so happy. So excited to see her again and here she stands, surprised, looking almost petrified as guilt bubbles in her chest.

She can barely force a smile on her lips and when she does, Furina is almost positive of how crinkled it probably looks, but it'll have to do for now, "I see..so that's your reason.. Well, you've seen me now so you can go and—"

"I stopped by Café Lutece earlier today," You mindlessly rambled, "I cleared out my morning so that I could get your favorite cake.." A small sigh leaves your lips as you continue, "Unfortunately, by the time I got there all sixteen slices had already been sold out..but, I should've expected that. After all, my lady has great taste in dessert, it's no wonder they always sell so fast!"

You shake your head, your ears wiggling as a result of your attempt at physically clearing your head, "Anyways, I'm sorry I couldn't get your favorite cake, but I bought everything else you see here to make up for my blunder so I hope this can earn your forgiveness," While you spoke, Furina's eyes watched your every movement, narrowing in on the pile of small boxes of sweets as you stretched your hands out to dump the pile into her arms.

As she staggered to catch the boxes that threatened to slip through her grasp and splatter all over the floor, her eyes widened at the realization of the mere size of the pile. This variety of sweets isn't at all small. There were so many that even she would take at least a week or two to get through the majority of this. Just how much time and money did it take you to get all of this for her? Furina's heart sinks at the mere thought of you spending even a dime on her..

"H- Hey, how much was all of this exactly?" The question hesitantly, almost fearfully escapes her. Your ears perk up and your rambling comes to an abrupt stop. Nevertheless, your face easily gives away how you feel towards the question; genuine confusion.

"Why the sudden ask, my lady? Whenever I used to buy you sweets before, you'd never care to ask about the prices.."

"Well, you of all people know that..I'm not.." She couldn't even get the words out. To put it simply, the mere thought of the incidents occurred makes her shudder. Everything was so embarrassing it makes her want to lock herself in this home for five hundred years..

Hm, but with that curse lifted, thankfully she's not able to live that long anymore.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[acidmatze]

I’ll be there for you (Yes, like the Friends theme) Chapter 4

Summary: After being in a coma for two years Vash wakes up, not being able to remember Anything that has happened since he was “a teenager”. How is he gonna adapt to living in a world so strange and unfamilliar? By preparing to move into a rehabilitation clinic (TriStamp timeline, post ep12)

Warnings: Vash being Vash, hospital setting (for now) Word count: ~2.4k Chapters: 1 2 3 5

This night Vash had another weird dream.

He met Nai in some weird dark place and there were dying Plants everywhere.

Nai was angry and yelling at Vash but he couldn't make out the words.

They were still teenagers in that dream. Or at least looking like teenagers.

Luida was also there and also yelling at Vash but she sounded pleading and anxious instead.

But before he could make any sense of this dream he woke up.

„It's okay to ask for help if you can't do this alone yet, you know?“

Karina is standing in front of a half naked and damp Vash and dries his hair with a towel. She has to stand on tip toes for this.

„It's embarrassing though. I should be able to take a shower alone.“

„It won't always be like this, just for a while. Soon you can do it alone again. You just have to get used to it with one hand. We have to hurry a bit now. The lady from the rehab place is coming soon.“

Vash wiggles himself out of Karina's grip and scuttles around to get all his clothes.

Someone is knocking on the door.

Oh no! She's already here? Karina motions at Vash to stay in the bathroom.

„You get dressed, I'll open the door.“

Vash is grateful Karina brought him a pair of sweatpants over from her older brother. Vash realised he wasn't able to close the belt on his regular pants alone after trying to get dressed for the first time the other day.

So sweatpants are much appreciated.

He hastily puts on his shirt and socks and hobbles out of the bathroom, still trying to pull his right sock up correctly.

There's a short round older lady standing in his room. She is carrying a stack of papers and a clipboard and smiles serenely at Vash.

„Hello, good morning. You must be Vash. I'm Mrs. Nielsen. I am here to talk about your plans after your hospital stay and if our place might be a good fit for you.“

Before Vash can answer Karina speaks up: „I know a small office where you can do your interview. I don't think there's enough space here for all the papers.“

„That would be wonderful.“

Five minutes later Vash is sitting in front of Mrs. Nielsen in a cramped office-like room with only a small window. The lights are a tad too bright for Vash's liking but what can you do.

At least there's enough space for that huge stack of papers that is now laid out in front of Vash.

„I know this looks imposing but most of these are information sheets that you can read at your leisure. You can read, right?“

There is no judgment in her voice.

Vash feels like even if he would say No he would not be treated any differently than normal.

But he can read so,

„Yeah, I can read.“

„That's good to know because that makes my job a lot easier. But not everyone of our clientele can so I figured I'd ask first. Everything that I will tell you now can also be found in these papers so if you can't remember everything at once that's fine. It's a lot of information after all.“

She shuffles the papers around and mumbles to herself.

„So where did I put the.. ah here.“

Mrs. Nielsen gathers a few sheets and hands them over to Vash.

„We will fill these out together later. If you do decide to come to us then we will go over the majority of this information again but you need information in the first place to decide, right?

So first of all, who am I and what do I do?

I am the head psychologist of the rehabilitation organisation called Dove's Wings. We do a whole lot of things but what is the most relevant to you is that we rehabilitate disabled people and help them to live as independently as possible. In contrast to a hospital we do not impose a time limit on our people. Everyone improves at a different rate and everyone's Best is different as well. You stay with us as long as you want. That can be one year or two or five or ten or forever. It is entirely up to you. Most of our current People are indeed with us for the majority of their lives already.

I don't know your exact diagnoses but from what I have gathered you will probably start in Phase 1 in the mental health group. I know you also need physical therapy but I think our mental health group will fit you better. They are all closer to your age overall, currently. Phase 1 means that you will be eased into everything. You don't have many responsibilities yet and it's on us to evaluate what we can do with you and for you and what won't work yet. You will get your own room and your own bathroom that you will need to keep clean. There will be others in the group with you and you will share a kitchen and a living room with them. You also have to keep your living space clean, together as a group. This phase usually lasts about 4 months. The switch to Phase 2 is fluid and not much changes except that you will notice that your daily schedule will fill up more. There will be more therapy, more sports, you will be asked if you want to join a club or two and there are more optional Duties for you. You will also start going to work in one of our workshops once or twice a week for a few hours. Yes, you will get paid for that. Many of our People stay in this phase for a year or longer. As with everything, it is totally fine if you don't advance further.

For Phase 3 you will actually have to move to a different building but it is right next door so you will have no issues meeting your friends still. You will have to move because in the first two phases there are more social workers and therapists around, even at night while from Phase 3 onward you won't encounter these very often unless in your therapy groups.

From then on your group will be left to your own devices mostly. You have to get up and ready and go to your work or therapy sessions on your own. Nobody will come and wake you up anymore. Once a week a social worker will come over and plan the grocery shopping with you and make a list of tasks of who does what but it is then up to you as a group to actually do these tasks.

Also, the frequency of work and therapy changes. You will then work the majority of the time and only have very few therapy groups left. This means that the stress and workload on you increases but you will also get more money. And by that time you will be more than ready to tackle this.

I won't explain the other two phases to you because this already is enough information and actually most of our People are in this phase and stay there. Living with others ist understandably more fun and easier than living alone, after all.

Any questions yet?“

That really was a whole lot of information.

Vash can only stare and blink.

Work. He hasn't worked before. Or maybe he has but there's no way he would know.

Doing household chores, keeping things clean.

On the ship Luida helped him with keeping his room tidy but he didn't had much stuff to begin with. Sometimes he helped in the kitchen and Rem also taught him and Nai how to cook a few things when they were even younger.

„I... uh...“ he starts and trails off again.

Mrs. Nielsen smiles and just nods at him.

„It's okay, take your time.“

„I can't do many Adult Things. I can't remember how to do them. I mean.. household things. I don't think I've ever been in a Store before.“

Mrs. Nielsen just nods again.

„Your case is a bit special but it's well within our capabilities to deal with. Just as anyone else we will teach you how to do these things. You're not going to be the only one not knowing how to use a vacuum cleaner or where to find things in a store. For other reasons than most of our People but don't let that discourage you. Would you mind if we go over some of your personal information really quick?“

Personal information? Oh no.

Vash knows Nothing.

„We wrote down that you don't know your family name. Considering your circumstances that is alright. If you haven't remembered it by the time you enroll with us we can put in a temporary one until you do.“

Mrs. Nielsen smiles widely at Vash.

„A once in a lifetime opportunity to choose your own family name.“

Vash has a vague idea which name he could choose if he really doesn't remember his own anymore. But he isn't completely sure about it yet.

„Let's move on. So we have two numbers on the paper here for how old you are. I think for simplicity's sake you wanna go with 28? We know you're a Plant but that has absolutely no influence on the treatment so it's more or less unnecessary information. Do you know your birthday?“

„July 21st... Do I want to know my actual age...?“

Mrs. Nielsen looks at Vash in surprise.

„Oh? You don't know? Hmm.. what do you think how old you are?“

„Uhm....“ To be honest, Vash has no idea.

He looks up to the ceiling, as if the answer would be there. Then he looks down at the table. He knows he grew very fast in his first years so who knows if 28 years have actually passed for his body yet. Or he's already ancient. Both seem equally plausible to him.

„Five million years.“

Mrs. Nielsen starts laughing heartily.

„Maybe you feel like that but you're a bit younger than that. Reminds me of one of our residents. He also keeps saying his body feels like hes 500 already. Do you want to know your actual age? If not then we can wait until you're a bit more stable.“

Vash nods.

„I want to know. It's gonna be scary no matter whether someone tells me now or later.“

„Okay. It's October so you already had your birthday this year. That would make you 153 years old.“

Silence.

The five million years would've been preferable, honestly. At least that would be a number Vash only has a vague grasp on.

So he has lost about 145 years worth of experience and memories. How many friends did he make in that time? How many people died before him? Did he have a family? They surely also died before him then. Man, that is Sad. Did he have a kid maybe? Was it still alive or did he have to witness his own child die before he does? How much time has He left? Is someone waiting for him? Seriously, did he have a family and are they still alive? When did Luida and Brad and everyone on the ship die or are they somehow still alive? The cryosleep things still worked, after all.

Vash lets out a sniffle.

„I don't even know if I had a family...“

His voice is cracking.

Mrs. Nielsen hastily gets up and walks over to Vash's seat and puts her hands on his shoulders.

„150 years are indeed a very long time. That means you have been here from the very beginning.“

Her voice is quiet and soothing.

Vash doesn't even want to think about that.

Mrs. Nielsen continues.

„It is true that you have seemingly lost a lot of time. But you are still young. The majority is still ahead of you. You have so much time to remember everything that happened. So much time to learn new things, meet new people, make new friends... Endless possibilities. Memories will come in time.“

The interview took almost two and a half hours.

Vash had his lunch delivered right after, Spaghetti and meatballs, which he basically inhaled.

Mrs. Nielsen had left him a few questionaires for him to fill out.

Of course he also still had his information sheets.

Vash was already very sure that he wanted to go there.

So after meeting Christine again in the small hospital gym this time (they just practised throwing and catching a ball one-handed and did some stretching) he was now going through all of the information he got.

He is currently looking at some photos of the place that he also got.

The rooms are looking pretty big, but smaller than his hospital room.

The bathrooms seem to be decently sized as well and have nice large windows with blinds on them.

Judging by the pictures is looks like its a whole street by itself.

There is also a picture of a cat. Maybe a mascot?

A mental image appears in Vash's head.

Of himself lying in a reclining chair outside somewhere with a fluffy small black cat sleeping in his lap.

Did he have a cat? Was that his cat?

Must be nice having a pet, for sure.

„Huh... interesting.“ Vash mumbles.

„Seems like I'm a cat person.“

Okay time to move on to all this information he got.

Two pamphlets about the workshop he can work in. Seems like theres several departments to work at. Even a car wash, huh.

„And of course we can always arrange internships in the city for you“, the pamphlet states.

Whatever an internship is.

A huge stack of pages clipped together are basically exactly what Mrs. Nielsen told him earlier so he puts them aside for now.

Another page is an „example schedule“ for how the average week will look like for him in the beginning.

Breakfast is at 8am then theres a morning assembly each day. Then theres a block called „chores/kitchen“. Then free time. Then lunch. Then something called „Therapy block A“ and a footnote on the bottom of the page asks Vash to refer to The Therapy Booklet to find more information about which therapies belong to which block.

Then some kind of sports. More therapy. Free time. There are apparently three different therapy blocks.

Why is there so much stuff?

Vash's head is already spinning.

And there's Even More pages.

Vash pushes them away from himself.

„No. No more. I can fit no more information in my head.“

[janis-1987]

Under New Management (Fizzmodeus)

Chapter 13

< x >

After weeks of preparation, it was finally the day of the coronation. And Asmodeus could not be more nervous. 

He looks himself over in the mirror for what must have been the hundredth time, “Do I look okay, Fizz? Not too much or too little?”  Fizz fixes Asmodeus tie, “You look as beautiful as ever Ozzie. You have nothing to worry about. This whole coronation is just a fancy show. That’s all. We’ve practiced your speech hundreds of times, and you know I’ll be right there next to you the whole time, I promise, it’s all gonna be okay.” 

He fiddles with the cuffs of his suit, “I know, but what if something goes wrong? What if I mess up and lose the respect of the other kings? They already think I’m a joke compared to the other princes.” 

“Ozzie, baby, you’re gonna do just fine, nothing is gonna go wrong. You’re worrying too much. I promise, you’re going to nail your speech, just like how you nail everything you do. You’ve got this.” He says gently touching Ozzie’s forehead with his own.  Asmodeus smiles a little, “Okay, that you Fizzypop.”  “Course Ozzie, Now come on, you don’t wanna be late.” He says as he jumps off of his shoulder.  Asmodeus nods and stands, “Promise to give me the best intro ever?”  “Obviously.” He says with a giggle. He makes his way to the stage, It was weird being in front of the new castle that he and Ozzie would be moving into, because of the death of the previous king. The stage itself was hastily put together, so much so, that it reminded Fizz of stages the circus would set up. He takes a deep breath and steps out onto the stage, “Ladies and gentlemen of hell, on behalf of Asmodeus, I welcome you to his coronation and thank you for making time to give him your condolences. So, if you could all stand as the soon to be king enters as a sign of respect and acceptance.”  The music starts and Fizz swears this feels like a wedding rather than a coronation. The demon royalty stands, looking at the door that Asmodeus was supposed to come through. A minute goes by, the doors stay shut, another minute, the song is almost over, the demon royalty begin to murmur, Fizz bites his lip, the song ends. The royals start to murmur to each other, they all look at Fizz. Fizz swallows nervously. 

“Well ragdoll? Where is he?” Mammon speaks up from the crowd. 

Fizz tucks his tail between his legs and takes a shakey step back, “I- I don’t know, I just saw him, he’s here.”  “So he’s wasting our time? We all are very busy.” Mammon growls. 

Asmodeus slams the doors open, out of breath and his suit in tatters, angel blood covering it. And the room goes silent, looks of horror across the faces of every royal. He sees everyone looking at him and clears his throat, straightens his posture, and as composed as he could be, make his way to the stage, he turns to face the crowd. “Apologies for my late arrival, as you can probably tell from the state of my suit, I was attacked, by an angel no less. So please forgive me for delaying the ceremony.”  There was a quiet murmur of “You are forgiven,” from the crowd of royals. 

Fizz looks the most horrified, he swallows nervously, desperately trying to regain his composure as his whole body shakes uncontrollably. 

The coronation continues as planned, Asmodeus nailing his speech, just as Fizz said he would. But the real chaos happens at the after party. 

The other royals swarm Lucifer, the only level that had an access point for angels was the pride ring, this was a severe lapse in security. 

“Friends, friends, I assure you I have already taken care of the hole, and dubbed security, Asmodeus took care of the angel, it’s fine. Everything is fine.” 

“I bet it was your heaven obsessed daughter that let that angel in.” Mammon growls, pointing at Charlie. 

“I- I didn’t I swear.” Charlie says, hiding behind her father, nearly in tears.  Asmodeus wasn't listening, he was shut down, sitting in the corner of the room with Fizzarolli. 

“You did great Ozzie, you really did. But more importantly, are you injured at all? Do we need to go to the doctor?” He asks softly. 

“I’m fine Fizzarolli.” Asmodeus says firmly, almost angrily.  Fizz cowers a bit at his tone, shrinking away from him, “O-okay Asmodeus.” 

“I think you should go.” Asmodeus says.  “Wha- Asmodeus, what did I do?” Fizz asks, tears in his green eyes.  “Go home. I don't want you here. I already called Hadi, they’re here to take you home.” Asmodeus says.  “Home? But I live with you. Home is like ten feet away.” He says as his voice shakes. 

“No. Hadi is taking you to the mansion. I’ll see you there after all this.” Asmodeus says firmly, not even looking at the little imp.  Fizz nods, “O-okay Asmodeus.” He bows to him before slipping away from the party and meeting Hadi out front. 

“Hey Fizz!” Hadi calls happily until she sees the tears streaming down his face, running his make up, “Oh Fizz, what happened?”  “I-I don’t know. but I think I did something and now Asmodeus is mad at me.” He sobs.  “Mad at you? Why would he be mad?” Hadi asks, getting him into the car. 

“I don’t know! I didn’t do anything.” Fizz explains, as the car drives away. 

“Maybe it’s not you. Maybe he’s just stressed.” Hadi offers. 

Fizz sniffles, “Maybe.”

[polizwrites]

A Written Promise

Bucky critiques Steve's letter to Tony before Steve spends a sleepless night reflecting on everything he's lost.

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Rating: General Tags: Canon compliant, Post Captain America: Civil War, missing scene, grief and mourning

This is a belated fill for the most recent @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt [#FFF180 Promise You'll Write] as well as my @stuckybingo prompt B3 - Legacy.

Bucky sighed and shook his head as he set the letter on the table. “You’re still pretty lousy at apologizing, aren’t you?”

“What am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry I tried to stop you from killing my best friend’?” Steve shot back; he’d done what he’d had to do in the moment. “Here, let me add a postscript: ‘You can keep the shield - I don’t think I want it anymore’.”

A flash of surprise crossed Bucky’s face, but then he set his jaw and with a lop-sided shrug, replied “Suit yourself. But I don’t think this is gonna cut it if you want to make up with Stark.” He tapped the letter for emphasis. “And then there’s this.” Bucky traced a finger over the lines Steve had written about not letting people down and locks being able to be replaced. “You’re as good as telling him that you’re going after Sam and the others here.” Bucky made a frustrated huff. “Probably the minute my back is turned.”

Steve feigned innocence. “And how in the world would I do that, Buck?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “I don’t hear you denying it, punk.” But before their discussion could grow heated, there was a knock on their half-open door.

It was Ayo, with a somber look on her face. “The princess told me to inform you that it is time.”

Steve returned to the suite alone, his soul scraped raw at having Bucky torn away from his side yet again. From across the years, he heard a familiar voice inside his head: “Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice.” Reminded of another loss that was all too fresh, Steve couldn’t hold himself together anymore. He sat in the empty room, put his head in his hands and wept.

The next morning – which didn’t even feel like morning, since Steve had barely slept – one of Shuri’s technicians brought the equipment he’d asked for, including two unassuming, yet powerful cellphones. Each were programmed with the others’ phone number so that no matter where they were in the world, he and Tony could get in touch with one another.

Too heartsick to attempt to rewrite the letter, Steve bundled it and one of the phones - the other slipped securely in his pocket – into a package hastily addressed to the Avengers Compound. He’d get it sent out later - he had something else to take care of first.

[olive-is-a-jim]

vent below.

vent below.

i look back and think of all the people on here i used to be close and/or friendly with.

I look at a list of deactivated blogs or changed urls and i feel confused, lost in the supermarket again.

There's people I still follow who still reblog my stuff. I don't know how you have changed over the years and yet i feel guilty.

I try to look for the old messages but clicking one closes the stupid tumblr messaging button each time and i can't just easily scroll down.

I think the most about who i was back in 2017-2018. And what I think of "her"... I hate the most.

I had good friends. Good prospects. A horrible path. A downward spiral. A fragile psyche.

I was a fucking basket case who was in "her" early teens. I thought I was tough shit. I was growing more and more detached from my life.

And I miss those I'd then call friends. And I feel bad for all the perfectly good people I should have not bothered. All because I was young and stupid and crazy.

One fateful day it all snapped. Nothing life-threatening happened, I just shaved my head but it was enough apparently. I wiped my old phone and all the art and texts and memories from old friends who were getting tired of my spiraling and neediness and drama and emotions and

On the 31st of January 2019 i was checked into a small mental institution and ended up staying there for 4 months, being released only a few weeks before my 15th birthday.

I was there voluntarily in terms of what was written down but. It still was hell. A silent hell. One where you're told to see things positively and not talk about your pains to peers. One where you're almost gaslit into thinking you're not ready yet.

And I wasn't, in all honesty. But that doesn't mean I came back better. I came back with different problems. And it was like that for a while.

A lot of other stuff is foggy, mostly because it was just. life? that or it's the trauma-blocking from just. everything. I knew I couldn't make a month without crying from either guilt, getting in trouble, random other shit that'd make me cry, or the general cycle of falling apart and putting myself back together.

Things did turn around when my family moved out of our old town an into the city. A new school, new set of IRL friends that soon spread out into new digital friends. I had new hobbies, new passions, new room, new problems.

school still sucked I'd struggle getting grades good again, and it was a new set of pressures and meltdowns and panics and

I had support systems, people who would work with me on these sorts of things, designated adults and whatnot. It was getting better but you could tell that shit was still amiss.

Thennnn the pandemic hit and everything had a new set of problems!! :)

failing "zoom school" grades, stupid hastily made websites for submitting work that took too much mental effort and more and more issues with me even having the drive to do anything productive besides art and fucking around online.

But then. I was given an option, when being told that I wouldn't make enough to graduate with a highschool diploma. a GED.

I didn't like it at first I wanted to be able to graduate. But over time I did get into a program for it. I had all the knowledge for getting it I just. Fucking sucked with standardized education and the whole homework rigmarole and blah blah blah blah blah blah

Point is, I got my GED and was able to attend the graduation ceremony with my peers at the highschool and it was everything. I made a cool design for my cap (i cannot recall if I posted it I highly doubt I did).

I also started (and am still doing) courses for transitionary education, basically seminars and stuff for things to help young adults with "alternate education paths" get jobs and be able to have resources to live independently some day.

It's good. I like it. And I've grown so much.

I grow incrementally rather than a steady and ever constant line, and those increments can have horrible spiraling chasms between them and those increments can suddenly bring me to functionally being a different person in many regards although not literally.

This all seems good here these last few paragraphs but. There are new problems and because it's all so recent in comparison I.

Somehow

Have trouble thinking about it. Like getting it to even appear in the forefront of my mind. But maybe I'm trying to look too big picture on my issues. Maybe my mind is just foggy forever. Maybe I'm just not

Actually fuck that noise. I am myself in this moment writing this dumb post and crying my eyes out surrounded by 3 cats. I am crying for my past, tearing up about what I have now, and weeping for the future like everyone else does.

I miss my friends and there's some I know I won't be able to have back. But I'm not going on a wild goose chase for people who might have simply just deleted their blogs and made new ones, or people who just don't remember or want to talk to me or whatever valid reason. I have the ones that I do know, ones I've gained and reforged over the last 4 years, and ones I've made recently.

I have people I'm no longer friends with and I'm, surprise surprise old me, okay with it.

One of my biggest faults was abandonment issues and the varying chance of falling apart in front of someone IRL or over text. They can still be my faults at times in the present but. I have newer, more independent ways to deal with myself before anyone else has to. And also by the very benefit of being a future version of myself, I'm just.

Better at this living sort of thing than I was.

I'm 18. I'm Miki. I feel alive. I'm ready to catch back up with people, if they so choose.

And as always...

:D

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

Swegory 4: if this is a romcom, kill the director 

Oh my god so this has swallowed my brain entire, can’t believe that there’s enough of this that I'm actually going to have to clean it up and put it on AO3 at some point (@larkral IF THIS ENDS UP BEING 75K WORDS I AM SUING YOU FOR DAMAGES BY WHICH I MEAN GIVING YOU A HUG OVER THE INTERNET)

I’m just going to keep writing this fast and dirty and riddled with embarrassing mistakes, thereby embracing the spirit of COC if not the specific themes 

Hi please enjoy Baz having Soft Feelings about his Stuntman Boyfriend Simon Snow and also there’s some Family Feels 

~

BAZ

“What if. It doesn’t last?” Swithin asks. 

They’re in the car, outside of the Petty House in Peckham. Swithin’s been quiet this morning, and he’s hunched over in the passenger seat, hair in front of his eyes, chewing on the stim necklace Baz got him last year. The pendant is deep blue and shimmering, and shaped like a teardrop. 

“If what doesn’t last?” Baz asks. 

Simon’s inside the Petty House, presumably helping Gregory pack for school - although knowing them, they’re probably just throwing all of Gregory’s things into a duffel. 

“Gregory,” Swithin says. “Talking to me. Once we’re back at school.” 

“You talked easily enough last night.”

“Yeah, but that was about Dune.” Swithin worries at the raindrop pendant again with his teeth. “It’s easy to talk about Dune.”

“I imagine you can keep talking about Dune,” Baz says, dryly enough. “There’s deep lore and plenty of canon. And aren’t there other things that you have in common?”

Swithin fidgets. “I could ask him. About other books. I suppose. But… he has friends, Baz. Other people he could talk to.”

“You have friends too.” 

Really, Swithin has Fatima Wasem, who basically looked at Swithin on the first day of primary school and - as far as Baz can tell - went, That one. He’s going to be my friend, and never really bothered asking Swithin his opinion about it. He’s been trailing after her ever since. 

“How did you get Simon to like you?” Swithin asks. 

Baz resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I don’t think that the way I treated Simon when we were roommates should be the blueprint for a healthy relationship.” 

“Not then,” Swithin says. “Later. When you were out of school.” 

“I don’t think that’s a good blueprint either,” Baz says, because Run into the love of your life while you’re bitching out the top billed actor on set and Oh yes because your life isn’t tragic enough already, the love of your life is wearing a leather harness is not a story that he is going to tell any of his siblings, ever.

“We spent time together,” Baz says, which is mostly true, but only because Baz discovered that Simon hovered over craft service a lot when Smith-Richards was in wardrobe or make up. “We got to talking.”

“I get beat up professionally,” was what Simon had said, that first day they ran into each other on set, when it had been very difficult for Baz to tear his eyes away from Simon’s half-naked chest. Somehow, the harness made him seem more naked than if he had just been shirtless. “See, my thick skull turned out to be good for something after all.“

“I remembered some things that he liked,” Baz said, as if he hadn’t driven forty minutes out of his way to find a bakery that made sour cherry scones and then just “casually” had them out in view when Simon was nearby, while Baz marked up a script. “And the rest is history.” 

They made out against the shaded side of Smith-Richards’ trailer. Pippa Stainton gave Simon a fearsome lecture for getting his hair messed up before that day’s shoot, but Baz was so giddy that he gloated about it on three separate group chats until Dev threatened to block him. 

“That’s so vague,” Swithin says, dolefully, wrenching Baz back to the present. 

“Yes, well,” Baz says, hastily. “That’s real life. Most relationships aren’t like the movies.” 

He catches sight of Simon and Gregory coming out of the house, Gregory staggering under the weight of a green duffel bag. Swithin gets out of the car so he can cede the passenger seat to Simon, and sit in the backseat. 

“Gehhhhh, that took forever,” Gregory says, sounding hassled. His face is splotchy red, and his blonde hair looks like he stuck it in a garburator. “Mom wouldn’t stop badgering us until we took some apple spice muffins,” and he shoves a brown paper bag into Swithin’s lap.  “They’re all weird and healthy, made with wheat germ and chia seeds or something.” 

Simon slides into the front passenger seat. His cheeks are ruddy in the cold, and his curls are getting long; he’s growing out his hair for Smith-Richards’ next film, something set in ancient Greece which will hopefully feature him oiled up and in outfits that reveal a lot of thigh. 

“Hey,” Simon says to Baz. A smile curls around his mouth, and he squeezes one of Baz’s knees. “Thanks for waiting.” 

It’s extremely foolish - maudlin - sentimental - downright mawkish - that even after so many years together, the sight of Simon being happy to see him can still make Baz’s chest feel oddly warm. 

Baz clears his throat. “We should be on our way to the train station,” he says, instead of, If you are not too long, I will wait for you all my life. He checks the rear-view mirror, and sees that Swithin is just sitting in the backseat, staring down at the brown paper bag in his lap, not touching it.

“Gregory,” Baz says, and Gregory bolts upright. “Swithin was just wondering if you had any sci fi recommendations.” 

Swithin’s eyebrows draw together, his hands tightening on the brown paper bag - but Gregory beams as if this is high favourite question. 

“I have SO MANY,” Gregory says, looking a little manic. “Have you read anything by Ken Liu? Ted Chiang? Cixin Liu? Yoon-Ha Lee? I’m on this huge kick right now of sci fi by Asian authors-“ 

Swithin clears his throat. “I just got Ninefox Gambit on my Kindle,” he says.  “I haven’t started it yet.” 

“It’s SO GOOD, the maths in the first battle is really intense, Lee just kind of throws you in headfirst and expects you to get what’s going on, but-“ 

As Gregory and Swithin get swept up in their conversation, Simon leans a bit into Baz’s space. “That was good of you,” he murmurs. “Very subtle.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Baz lies, because he’s not going to be so petty as to stoop to matchmaking, even though that’s essentially what Simon is doing. 

“Maybe it won’t come to anything between them,” Simon had said in bed that night, when Gregory and Swithin both slept over. “But if nothing else, each of them could use a friend at Watford. If I’d had someone to badger me into being nicer to you-“ He lifted a hand to brush a bit of Baz’s hair off his forehead. “-Well, maybe I would’ve realised things a lot sooner.”

By the time they drop off the boys at the train station, Gregory and Swithin are so caught up in the conversation that Gregory just impatiently waves a hand at Simon, saying, “Yeah, see you at Christmas, bring me back something cool from Malta.” 

It’s going to be lonely, when Simon leaves for shooting. It always is, when he’s gone for weeks or even months. But it’s lovely every time he comes back - starving for Baz, skin-hungry and reverent. Like an echo of that first time that rings throughout the years. 

“Baz,” Swithin says. He re-adjusts the scarf that Baz gave him, that grey-blue ombre that sets off his colouring nicely. “Um. Thanks. For this weekend.” 

… Baz had never expected his father to die so young. He’d never expected to have to become something like a father figure to his eleven-year-old brother. Daphne and his father had the raising of the younger Grimm children, and Baz had left them to it. But then their father passed away, and suddenly there Swithin was, in Baz’s care and keeping in a way that he wasn’t before. Baz had changed his nappies and sang him lullabies when he was colicky, but it was the first time he had felt truly responsible for Swithin, in their father’s place. 

And now four years later, Swithin is fifteen. Sapling skinny, dark hair in his face, a touch dreamy. He reminds Baz so much of his younger self, and yet Swithin is so unlike Baz, in many ways. He supposed the same was true of many brothers. 

Baz isn’t going to meddle. But he’s going to do his best to give Swithin something Baz himself never had when he was fifteen: someone to gush to about his feelings for another boy.  

“We can have another movie night,” Baz says. “When you’re both off school, and when Simon’s back.”

“Fuck yeah!!” Gregory says, and then, “Uh, pardon my French.” 

“That would be-” Swithin’s eyes drop to his feet again, but the look on his face is quietly pleased. “That would be nice.” 

@carryonprompts can we get a fic of Swithin in Watford developing a massive crush on his roommate and calling big bro Baz for help?

[spideystevie]

Hey Allie! 🥰

I looove your writing (obsessed, actually!)

Congratulations on all your well-deserved followers! Could I pleeeeease request 8 and/or 10 with our boy steve? Thank u, angel! ❤️

hey, thank you! i managed to combine both prompts, i hope you like it <3 (0.8k)

8. “are you flirting with me?” “you finally noticed” & 10. “stop distracting me”

Getting a job at Family Video seemed like something easy enough to pass the time after graduating high school. You liked movies well enough and Keith seemed to be impressed with your film repertoire.

Sure, the green vest didn’t really go with a lot in your wardrobe but you made it work. Maybe the best part of your job was Steve Harrington though you didn’t know him too well. A friendly face that you passed in the halls at school now a stupid pretty face that you got to spend most of your days with.

Steve was a surprise and an even worse distraction. Flirty comments that you brushed aside, lingering touches to your arm as he passed. He had to know what he was doing to you at this point and god, was it evil. 

“Stop distracting me,” you say, quickening your pace to try to get away from Steve. He can’t see your face but he can hear the smile you’re sporting.

“Distracting you?” he says, close behind as you enter an aisle. You put back a tape, not paying attention to where it goes or if it’s in the right section. You can smell Steve’s cologne from here, bergamot and something woodsy. It’s distracting.

“Yes!” you don’t notice him grabbing the movie you just put down to put back correctly later. “Some of us actually try to do their job.”

Steve sets the VHS on an empty cart as you pass by. He’s got something of a smirk on his face as he follows you. “Oh c’mon, I do my job.”

You laugh, the sound warming the inside of Steve’s chest. He wishes he had a tape of it to listen to whenever he wants. Sarcasm drips off your voice when you speak. “Oh do you? Couldn’t tell.”

“Yeah. Being a distraction to my pretty coworker is a lot of hard work,” he says. The compliment goes straight to your cheeks with the way they warm, you try to not let it show how it affects you. He is so cruel.

“Are you flirting with me?” you turn to face him, clutching restock tapes to your chest. Your eyes are slightly narrowed, taking careful steps backwards. Steve tilts his head, following your steps and keeping close to you. 

“You finally noticed,” he deadpans. You pause, footsteps stuttering to a stop which causes Steve to almost run you over. You blink up at him, lips parted and shoulders relaxing into a slouch. 

A beat of silence passes, Steve scanning over your features. Your breathing is shallow and your mouth feels dry when you swallow. 

“What?” is the only thing that you can manage to say, your voice cracking through the silence like thunder. You never thought to call Steve’s incessant remarks to you flirting, especially with the less than suave moves he tried to pull on customers that came into the store. 

Steve was just…naturally charming you had decided. It didn’t mean anything special when it was directed to you, you were just his co-worker. At least that’s what you thought until now. 

“What?” he takes another step closer so you’re toe to toe. He’s hoping you can’t tell how fast his heart is beating this close. Your brows pinch together, a crease forming in between them and Steve nearly reaches up to smooth it away. “Steve this isn’t funny,” you frown, taking a step back needing more space to breathe that’s not filled with everything…him. You hastily put the remaining tapes you’re holding onto the closest shelf, turning on your heel to leave. It’s his turn for a furrowed brow.

“Funny? What? I don’t-”

“If this is some kind of sick jok-”

It only takes him a few strides until he’s close enough to wrap a hand around your wrist. His grip is firm but his voice is anything but. “Hey, hey, slow down.”

You glance up at him through your lashes briefly before looking back down at your shoes. His hand around your wrist makes your blood feel like liquid gold, heat branching off the area and up the rest of your arm. 

“Baby will you please look at me?” you sigh through your nose, shifting on your feet so the tips of your shoes touch. You concede, eyes meeting his gaze. “This isn’t a joke, okay?”

You blink at him, waiting for him to say something else. Steve takes a deep breath, eyes closing for a beat.

“I really like you,” he says, eyes searching yours that have widened in size. You can feel your heart rate accelerate and your whole body feels like it’s on fire now. Slowly, your lips perk up at the corners, raising into a shy smile. 

“Yeah?” you breathe out.

“Yeah,” he nods, voice hushed. 

“I happen to really like you, too, Harrington,” you beam, feeling lighter than a feather. The smile he returned resembled trouble and a promise that he was only going to be an even bigger distraction at work from here on out.

-

allie's writing celebration!

[mortemtheraven]

Artemis Fowl x Reader

References: Artemis Fowl Series by Eion Colfer

Tw: Angst

Artemis Fowl is a stoic, highly intelligent, criminal mastermind who's only a teenager. But you, (Y/n) (L/n) managed to break through his icy barrier and found his weak spot which made him vulnerable to you. Artemis Fowl may control or dare I say—manipulate everything around him, but you have that genius wrapped around your little finger.

"Please, Arty? Can we just cuddle for today?" You pouted, wrapping your arms from behind him as he sits on his study table while typing quickly on his computer.

"No, (Y/n). And don't call me Arty." He's relentless.

"Art," he tensed at your special nickname for him. He remembered the day you gave that to him; Art, short for Artemis. Because everything is art and so are you. "Please?"

Artemis composed himself. "No." He felt your arms unwrapping themselves from his shoulders and strangely felt anxious.

"Fine," Artemis flinched at the coldness of your voice. It's so not like you.

He heard his bedroom door closed, leaving the room silent. Artemis sighed and stood up, turning off his computer. Why does he feel guilty? Somehow, he's convinced you've done something supernatural to make him feel this way around you. But he knows it's just you, the whole you that gives him a hard impact.

Artemis left his room and walked downstairs, finding you sitting in their massive living room. You're facing the fireplace, huddled by yourself on their leather couch. Wrapped around you is a blanket where Artemis should be, his arms making you warm instead of an old fabric.

"(Y/n)," Artemis called, and he heard you sniff as your body tensed. Oh shoot, we're you crying? His heart clenched at the thought. "Love, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, go back to whatever you were doing. I'm fine." he heard your voice break at the last word and winced. He really did screw up.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." Artemis insisted as he sat beside you and pulled you against him.

"Not that you care anyway." You wiped your tears hastily.

"Please, enlighten me." he said and you sighed.

"It's just—these past few months, you barely acknowledge my presence. I did everything to save this relationship, because I could feel us drifting away from each other. You've been very secretive, always busy on things that you don't wanna share with me—it's like all those memories of us together...gone. Like you never even cared, as if I was never in your list of importance. Am I?" You cried, facing Artemis with glistening tears in your eyes. Your confession made Artemis feel horrible. He never actually thought that he'd make you feel this way. His precious (Y/n), not important? He can't even imagine what he would do if you were gone. All hell would break loose.

"No, no. Of course not. You're the most important part of me, (Y/n). You're my life, you know how to put up with me despite knowing my true colors. Please don't feel that way, love." Artemis said and hugged you closer, wrapping his arms tightly as if he couldn't lose you, because he couldn't.

"I apologize if I hurt you, it was unintentional. There's just some things that I couldn't share with you for your own safety, please understand." Artemis couldn't just involve you in his war against the People. They already threatened to take you away from him once.

"I'm sorry for being melodramatic." You mumbled against his chest as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Don't be, love. I'm the one who should be apologizing here. Our relationship isn't supposed to be something that has to end. I'm not gonna lose you, you're practically irreplaceable. Tell you what, how about I set aside my errands and spend the rest of the day with you?" he suggested. You looked up at him with a bright smile that immediately made his day.

"You'd do that?" Artemis kissed your forehead once more.

"Yes, and tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that..." Artemis whispered, kissing down your cheeks until he reached your pump lips. Oh how he missed the feeling of your sweet lips against his. He just realized how long he's been missing out and he swore to himself that it would never happen again.

[wallgirl]

Poseidon x Fem!Reader - Consolation Gifts

1500 words. SFW, no warnings. Human/modern AU.

Your impatience with Poseidon comes to a boiling point.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when you heard the faint beeping of the keypad outside your loft's entry door.

You perched on an over-stuffed armchair situated towards the marble fireplace, staring emptily at the flames. Your favorite purse and jacket, both designer pieces that cost more than most people's yearly income, lay abandoned on the floor next to you. You'd been waiting here for hours; first eagerly, then impatiently, then despondently. The time for your dinner reservation had come and went, along with your hopes for a romantic evening with your lover. Now you waited, frigid and silent despite the fire's lively heat, for him to return home and hear his reason. There always was one.

It wasn't that it was unexpected. His profession, as more of a lifestyle than a career, held late hours and had him forever on-call. At any moment, regardless of where he was or who he was with, he might be called to attend some urgent business... and leave you behind with only a hope that he'd soon return.

But these interruptions happened more and more frequently as of late. There were more nights, now, that he didn't return home until the early hours of the morning. More plans ruined, more promises broken, with nothing offered to you as consolation besides a hastily bought gift presented by his butler.

Take this evening, for instance. You were supposed to have had dinner together at a new Michelin-starred restaurant downtown with panoramic views from atop a skyscraper. You had done your hair carefully and put on his favorite perfume, eager for romance. Instead, as the hour of the reservation crept by, the butler, Proteus, came knocking at the door with a Tiffany box in hand.

"Master Poseidon gives his deepest apologies for missing tonight's reservation, and sends you this," the old man had bowed. He opened up the box to present you with the beautiful sapphire necklace inside. However, you could only stare lividly at the glistening piece, before hastily making up your mind.

"Thank you, Proteus, but there's no need," you dismissed it, turning away. "You may take it back. Poseidon needn't waste any more of his gifts on me." His lavish presents couldn't buy your patience any longer.

It had been nearly two hours since, but that patience was still barely maintained, now that your love, Poseidon, had finally come home. You remained silent, not moving from your perch to greet him or acknowledge him. The door shut behind him, and when he realized you were not coming to welcome him home, he stepped into the living room.

"I heard you refused the necklace I sent. Were you not pleased with it?" He produced the small blue box from his tailored coat.

You glanced at the rejected gift out of the corner of your eye. "...It's not that it isn't beautiful, but..." You dismissed it with a wave of your hand.

"Are sapphires no longer your favorite?"

Well, as much as you admired sapphires, you wore them primarily because you knew he loved their color. But, that aside... "No, it's not that." You turned away again, arms crossed against your chest.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't need any more consolation gifts!" You snapped at him over your shoulder. "Every time you cancel our plans, you send me something to buy my complacency. Did you think I wouldn't pick up on the pattern?"

He stared at you silently.

"But I've had enough! You can keep your diamonds and sapphires. You can't buy my forgiveness anymore. More often than not, you leave me to wait here by myself, not bothering to tell me when you'll be back. And I'm left wondering whether or not I'll get to see you again that day. Do you know how much that hurts me?!" You turned your face away once more to hide the tears in your eyes. "Fancy jewelry can't make up for it this time!"

He set the box down on the end table and slowly approached you. Several moments of silence crept by before he finally answered. "...You knew when we first got together that this would be the case. My duties aren't the sort that I can put off for the day, or even an hour; you know this. When my brothers call me, or when an urgent situation arises, I must take care of it."

His words were quiet, but they dug into your heart with icy claws all the same. You hugged yourself tighter. He was right; you did know all of this. But there was a difference between knowing the future and living it. You admonished your past self for agreeing to a relationship on these terms... for not understanding how difficult it would become.

There was hardly a foot between the two of you now, and you could feel the magnetism from his body calling you. But you refused to budge; an icy veil that you would not cross continued to separate you. "So you can't even make an effort? Why even keep me here as your lover, then, when I'm nothing more than a prop most days? You could shower anyone else with gifts and have them at your beck and call, hanging off of your arm whenever you want." Your eyes burned into the crackling fire. "No reason to keep me hanging."

"Then... are you asking me to set you free?"

You finally turned around to face him. Your tears glistened in the firelight, putting the diamonds of any jewelry he could offer you to shame. "That wouldn't make my heart ache any less."

His gaze softened, and he gently cupped your face in his hands. "What would, then?"

"There's no point in asking me that if you're never going to change," you scoffed, but he kept you from turning away.

"Even when I'm not at your side, you are always foremost in my mind. And every time I have to leave, the disappointment on your face hurts me more than anything else." His simple words were so uncharacteristically open and vulnerable that your breath caught in your chest.

"Then... can't you act like it?" You tugged at the front of his suit jacket glumly. "Because... I don't want to be 'free.' I just want to be with the man I love. With you."

He released your face and enveloped you into his arms. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself tight to him. The faint heat coming through his jacket somehow dulled the roaring fire's many times over. "I can't always change the way things are... But I apologize," he whispered against your hair. "Perhaps I haven't made enough of an effort. I didn't know that this was how you felt... I thought you were angry with me."

"I was angry," you admitted. "But not because I no longer care about you." Indeed, maybe you cared for him a little too much. Maybe it was impossible for your love to work out. The thought made your heart ache again.

"This lifestyle hardly ever allows things to go to plan, but I promise to do better in the future. As for now... I know it's late, but we still have this night together." He caressed your hair gently. "I can get us a table downtown, if your appetite hasn't faded." Indeed, a phone call from Poseidon would open up any restaurant in the city, even at this hour.

"I ate hours ago," you admitted with a weak laugh. "I just had Proteus deliver some takeout."

"Is that why I could detect the scent of stir-fry when I came home?" Poseidon mused.

"There's some in the fridge, if you'd like." You leaned back to admire his face in the dim light. "General Zhao's chicken, too."

"Who am I to refuse such a generous offer?" He teased you, tapping your lips. "As long as you're really alright with staying in tonight."

"Yes. And when you're done eating, we can just take a shower and cuddle." You snuggled against him once more. "I've missed laying next to you. The bed is cold and lonely without you."

"We can warm it up tonight," he whispered in your ear. Your arms tightened around him at the thought.

"It has been a while," you admitted weakly. Far, far too long.

"Then we're in agreement." He released you but kept your hand in his. "Now... General Zhao's chicken."

You smiled brightly as he led you into the kitchen. All the riches and gifts were meaningless. You just wanted to enjoy and cherish as many moments with him as possible. As long as you could be together like this, able to understand and be honest with each other, there would be no need for you to feel lonely any longer.

The fireplace continued to crackle cheerfully, shedding its light on two lovers and their night of solace.

---

Author’s note: What is Poseidon’s mysterious profession? Uh I was thinking mafia, tbh. There was just no reason to slap more details on it. But he can just be a realllllly busy businessman if you want!

Has it really been over a year since I joined this fandom? Yeesh. So much has happened since then. A lot of people involved in the fandom back then, when it was still pretty new, have left... But I see new faces in the tags now, which is good! There was a time when the fandom was almost dead. I hope that the fandom continues to grow as the manga and anime continue to come out.

[nicolewoo]

Cub Part 12: Heat

Pairing: Roman Reigns X Reader

Synopsis: Roman, Seth and Dean are a pack of werewolfs. Protecting their city from the scumbags of the world ends up with a surprise when a victim left for dead imprints on Roman Reigns.

Part 12: Heat

I could never put into words how much I appreciated all the help I’d had. The medical team had become experts at putting me to sleep until I was done changing. The last two days, I’d slept through every change.

In human form? Every muscle and fiber in me hurt, and not just when I was morphing. My body HATED changing. I could barely move in human form. Nobody knew why we healed in wolf form faster than in human. Even sitting still, muscles would spasm and ligaments would move on their own. It was indeed torture. This is why the tribe had forbidden making new wolves. They were right to. I wouldn’t have wished this on my worst enemy. That said, it was still worth it for the life I was about to have. One look at my pack, my family, my tribe, MY MATE was all it took to steel my resolve. I spent most of my time tucked under a blanket on the couch, the bed or the porch.

My least favorite part of the day wasn’t even turning… I got to sleep through that. My least favorite was Physical Therapy time, and Physical Therapy time happened every hour. Massages, ice packs, heating pads, stretching, moving…. They did anything and everything they could to help my body adjust, but it hurt…. Everything they did hurt. I just kept telling myself that it was the price I paid for the life I wanted.

I woke on Day 3 feeling much better. Yes, I was sore, but it wasn’t bad enough to keep me down. I could stand, walk, stretch. Even Physical Therapy time was good…. Not great, but not near as painful.

When I announced over breakfast that I was ready to fly to Samoa, I was met with surprised faces. Everyone assured me that I didn’t need to rush my recovery, but I wanted to get the whole thing done and over. If the imprinting could be proven, I wanted it proven, and I wanted my mate to be out of trouble.

“I’ll either convalesce here on the couch or on a plane. So, let’s just do it.” I said as I looked at my new tribe.

Roman took my hand, “Are you sure?”

“If we can prove we are imprinted,” I was interrupted by a huff from Sika that I ignored. “I want to get it done. I don’t want you in trouble. It will be a huge weight off my shoulders.”

Seeing the resolve in my eyes Roman agreed. “Ok then. Let’s get it done.” He had no sooner said that then the family jumped into action.

“Fia, call the airport. Have a charter flight booked ASAP, and make sure there’s a bedroom on the plane.” Sika directed. Fia picked up her phone and went to a quieter room to handle everything. As she did, Sika hastily finished his food and got up, calling the tribal leaders as he set his plate in the sink. The cabin became a hive of activity again. Naomi, who seemed to have become my personal assistant because we got along so well, started packing for me while Seth and Shay called the medical team together to discuss how to make the flight as comfortable as possible for me.

“I wish you’d wait another day. You’re going to feel so much better tomorrow.” Shay said, making sure I was ready.

“Shay, let’s get this done with. Not to mention, I’m so excited to get started with my new life.” I replied and she patted my hand in understanding. “Ok hun. I’ll call the hospital and arrange for your pack to be off work.” She exited hastily as she went to join the medical team.

Everyone was up from breakfast now, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. I was left at the table with just Roman. People buzzed around us, all caught up with preparing for the trip.

“We’ve gotta go home and pack for the trip.” Roman said referring to my pack. “I’d prefer you stay here for safety. Are you going to be ok?” His thumb lazily caressed my hand as he held it.

I laughed as I looked around. We were surrounded by family that catered to my every whim. Honestly, I was looking forward to some quiet. “I think I’ll be well taken care of.”

He chuckled. “Ok, after the medical team meets, your brothers and I will head into the city to pack. Then we’ll be back. Do you need anything while we’re in town?” In truth, the pack had forgotten to order some things like a razor for me. I gave Ro my list before he left.

When the medical team emerged from their meeting, I noticed Dean was upset. He came straight to me. “Cub, I’m sorry, but I can’t go to Samoa with you. There’s a wolf scheduled for a surgery in two days. I have to stay to sedate him.” He took my hands in his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok Dean. I understand.” I pressed my forehead to his and tried to talk through our link. “Damnit!” I said when I failed.

He laughed. “You’ll learn, Cub. I just wish I could be there with you to help.”

“Ro and Seth will take great care of me.” As I said that, Shay approached, her face as somber as Dean’s had been.

“I can’t make it either Cub. Nobody can cover my shifts.” She said. I don’t know who I was more upset about staying. Dean was my brother, and my pack-mate. I would miss him terribly, but Shay had become a trusted friend and invaluable help over the past few days.

“I understand.” I answered.

“You make sure these boys are taking good care of you. If not, call me.” She joked.

 The flight was booked for 10 pm from Anchorage, Alaska. All totally, about 15 of us were making the trip. I thought that was amazing given the sudden notice.

We all piled into the lush private jet. I had seen some private planes… usually just used to ferry people and supplies from the mainland to Alaska…. Just a necessity. This was a whole different thing. The jet was huge, and luxuriously comfortable with work areas, lounging seats, oversized leather furniture…. It was by far the most amazing plane I’d ever seen… much less been in.

 Roman’s POV:

Y/N wanted to draw, so Seth and I started playing a game. I was kicking his ass, like always. A couple of teenagers gathered by us, hoping for a chance to play. The whole plane had gone quiet as people started to fall asleep.

Her sudden gasp caught my attention, and as I turned to see what was wrong, the scent reached me. My mate was ready. Ready for me. Ready to mate. She was in heat. Dropping the game controller, I went to her side. “Are you ok?” I asked.

She inhaled sharply, “I…. I need you…. I need…” I wrapped my arms around her.

“Cub, we can’t. You’re still in too much pain.” I said, but she was shaking her head no before I even finished the sentence.  

“I can’t wait.” She licked her lips, which made it harder to resist her. The longing in her eyes, the way her fingers dug into my back, the soft mewling noises she made….I knew she was in pain, but it was near impossible to resist her. “I need you so bad it hurts.”

“Cub, you’re not ready,” Seth chimed in, but she ignored him.

“Now, please.” She begged, and that’s all it took for me to lose my resolve. I kissed her. This was a hard, repressed kiss. A kiss that had waited and wished and wanted since I laid eyes on her. Through our link, I could feel the desperate need she had. It really was painful, but I could fix it. I would fix it. I would satisfy her desires, and I’d do it now… days before anyone thought she’d be ready.

I faintly heard my dad say “Seth, take them to the bedroom… NOW.”

Seth was next to me suddenly, hand on my arm. “C’mon Ro.” He started leading me back without even waiting for us to stop kissing. Each step we took was one step closer to relief, to joy, to love.

“I just want to remind you two that we have no idea how well Cub is healing inside.” Seth said as he opened the door.

“I’ll be careful.” I said as I placed my hand on her cheek and looked in her eyes.

“I just don’t want to have to open her up and fix….”  Seth said.

He’d overstayed his welcome already, and I barked “Seth, GET OUT!” That was all it took. He left us alone, closing the door behind him.

We crashed together like 2 puzzle pieces, my hard edges fitting against her soft curves, and now that we were together, I never wanted to be apart. Fiery passionate kisses were interrupted only long enough for pieces of clothing to come off.

I had thought that I was strong enough to be careful, be romantic, be comforting to her. Instead, the second I smelled her heat, instincts kicked in, and I couldn’t resist her….. Couldn’t resist kissing, touching, grabbing…. This was passion. Whole, total, powerful passion, and it was devouring us whole.

My sweet little Cub was just as desperate for me as I was for her, and when I sat down on the edge of the bed, she straddled my lap, which surprised me. I slid my hands up her sides to her breasts, taking them into my fingers and rolling the stiff peaks, but she was rocking her pussy against my cock, and I couldn’t resist. I trailed one hand down her body and between her legs to check if she was wet enough for me. Her fingers dug into my back as my finger slid effortlessly over her slick ribbbon. Without meaning to, a combination of a sigh and a growl slipped past my lips.

She answered with her own growl and took a deep breath as she raised up. I barely had time to grab my dick to aim it before she began lowering herself down on me slowly; much too slowly, but as she did, it felt like an invisible wall between our brains was coming down. We were one mind now; one person in two bodies.

By the time I was fully inside her, we were both smiling with pure joy. I pressed my forehead to hers as we both explored this new connection between us. Every thought she had, I heard. Every feeling she felt, I felt. Every sensation she had, I could feel, and she felt the same for me. Finally, I was complete. I hadn’t realized I wasn’t whole before, but as the last of the barrier between us fell, a sense of fullness filled me.

We sat like that for a minute, smiling like idiots and full of joy. I was whole. She was whole. We were whole, and it felt amazing. I tried to drink in everything, but her need started weighing on us, setting my wolf on fire.

I wrapped my hands around her hips, thrusting deep inside her again. She moaned long and low when I was buried deep inside her. She was so wet, so warm, her incredibly tight core clenching around me.

I tried to go slow, but she couldn’t control herself. She began rocking back and forth faster than I would have, and I noticed how bad her legs were hurting with each move. I could handle both problems the same way. I picked her up and turned her over while staying buried in her.  

“Rest.” I thought to her, and I felt how bad her need was.  I nodded to her. “I understand.” I said.

I sheathed myself deep inside her in one long stroke, and as I bottomed out, I heard her sigh. Her hands grabbed onto my arms, fingers digging into my flesh as if holding onto me for dear life. I thrust again, this time she moaned low; the sound was pure seduction, and my wolf roared to life. MATE! MATE!! MATE!!! MATE!!!!

I panicked. I needed to be careful with her. I needed to ensure I didn’t hurt her any more than what she was already feeling. I tried to control him, but as she slowly lost control of her wolf, I lost control of mine too. Our minds wrapped around each other as our wolves took over our bodies; need overriding everything else.  Hard, fast, fiery, passionate. There was no controlling our lust. This was mating…. Not making love… not fucking… pure mating.

I grabbed her leg, sliding it over my shoulder to get deeper inside her. As I thrust, her fingernails started digging into my arms now. Her noises turned primal. Grunts, screams, cries, growls. I could hear my wolf growling back with joy. I wrapped my mind around hers and we surrendered to our wolves; merely passengers on this ride.

As she neared her release, I could feel her core clenching faster and tighter around me. We both released at the same time, a feeling of pure euphoria overcoming us. Releasing her leg, I leaned in to kiss her.

My wolf was sated for now, as was hers. Pressing my forehead to hers, I gently nuzzled her nose with mine. Through our link, I could feel the happiness that brought her. I pulled out of her and laid next to her. “Come here.”

She laid on my chest, her fingers tracing my muscles as we recovered. We were both blissfully happy. A happiness I didn’t know even existed. Yes, we were heading to the tribal council. Yes, I could end up in tribal jail, but those things didn’t matter now. All that mattered was her. All that mattered was in this room. Our worries were no match for the ecstasy we felt.

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