#this one might have to break if it gets too long....

[anirudhpisharody]

There is not a locked room anywhere that with the right tools and enough time you can't break into.

[ID: A series of 21 gifs from the TV show 9-1-1.

The 1st gif shows Hen and Eddie untangling Halloween decorations at the firehouse. Eddie says, "You never know when a door is gonna close, and when it does, then...". Hen replies "It's sealed".

The 2nd gif shows Shannon talking to Eddie, who is offscreen, at a restaurant. She says, "Because if I try to do this again before I'm ready, there won't be a second chance."

The 3rd gif shows Pepa talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. She says, "It's been too long. You need to do something or you're going to be alone forever."

The 4th gif shows an injured woman lying on a backboard in a c-collar talking to Eddie and Hen, who are offscreen. She says, "We're all gonna die alone. Might as well spend time with our loved ones while we're still living." The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie and Hen looking at her.

The 5th gif shows Shannon lying down in an ambulance with a c-collar. She is talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. She says, "I'd love...a little more time."

The 6th gif shows Eddie during a flashback talking to Shannon, who is offscreen. He says "Can we please talk about this later? Can I maybe just get a little damn time?"

The 7th gif shows Eddie with tears in his eyes talking to Kim, who is offscreen. He says, "Never did get to say all the things I wanted to say. or hear all the things I needed to hear, I guess."

The 8th gif shows Ramon sitting down at a table talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. He says, "Why didn't you tell us?" The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, who says, "Pretty sure you know the answer to that question."

The 9th gif shows Eddie standing in front of his fridge with tears in his eyes, talking to Ana, who is offscreen. He says, "I should have said something sooner." Ana replies, still offscreen, "Yeah. You probably should have."

The 10th gif shows Buck talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. He says, "You said you did this a year ago, why are you just telling me now?"

The 11th gif shows Eddie underground during the well rescue. You cannot see his face. He says, "I need more time", but the text indicates it's unintelligible. The gif cuts to a shot of Bobby looking frustrated, then cuts to a shot of Buck shouting, "Cap, can't we give him more time?"

The 12th gif shows Christopher yelling at Eddie, who is offscreen. Offscreen, Eddie says, "We'll make an even bigger gingerbread house next year, right?" Christopher replies, "You could be dead next year!" The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie looking up at Christopher, who is offscreen, with a shocked look.

The 13th gif shows Eddie on the phone. He says, "Why wait? Well, there's no better time than now."

The 14th gif shows Eddie at the firehouse talking to Chimney, who is offscreen. He says, "Tomorrow isn't promised to anyone. If you love her, tell her."

The 15th gif shows Shannon at a restaurant talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. She says, "Eddie, uh, I think–". The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, where he cuts Shannon off and says, "Please, just...let me say this."

The 16th gif shows Buck talking to Eddie, who is offscreen. He says, "Uh, Eddie–". The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, where he cuts Buck off and says, "Just let me finish."

The 17th gif shows Buck being pushed towards the ground, with blood splattered on his face. He is staring ahead at Eddie, who is offscreen, with a shocked expression. The gif cuts to a shot of Eddie, who is lying on his side on the street, with his head in a puddle of blood. He is staring ahead at Buck, who is offscreen, as his hand falls forward towards Buck.

The 18th gif shows a close-up of Eddie talking to Christopher, who is offscreen. He says, "You can always come back. If you change your mind five minutes or five months from now...".

The 19th gif shows Eddie sitting in a confessional booth. Offscreen, a priest says to him, "Well, I imagine after 23 years, something in particular must be bothering you enough to make you feel like you need to be here."

The 20th gif shows Eddie talking to Buck, who is offscreen. He says, "Don't walk away from something before you even know what it is."

The 21st gif shows Eddie opening his front door. The gif cuts to wide shot of him smiling and nodding hello to Buck, who is offscreen. Eddie is wearing a button-up shirt with no pants. The gif then cuts to a shot of a visibly upset Buck standing outside, looking at Eddie.

END ID]

[jaeyunnz]

"Work Break Seduction."

ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+

WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.

both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!

Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.

Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.

A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.

The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.

This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.

You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.

You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.

The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.

Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?

He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."

He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."

You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.

You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.

How the fuck did he know?

"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.

"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.

At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.

"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.

Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.

You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.

You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.

Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.

It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.

His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.

When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.

You're sure. You want this. You want him.

Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.

He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.

You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.

Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 

You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.

Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.

He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.

He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.

He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."

"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.

"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.

He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.

Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."

He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.

"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.

You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.

The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"

Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.

He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.

He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.

Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.

And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.

He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.

The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.

He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.

"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."

You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."

💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[wendichester]

⭒˚.⋆ sacrifice,

summary. you make a deal to save dean's life but he's not having it

pairing. dean winchester x reader ; angsty

wordcount. 558

The second Dean walks into the room, you know you’re screwed.

His eyes are wild, shoulders tight with rage, jaw clenched so hard you’re surprised his teeth don’t crack. He storms toward you, fists balled at his sides, and for a second, you think he might actually punch the wall.

“What the hell did you do?” His voice is raw, shaking.

You swallow hard, but there’s no point in pretending. He knows. He must’ve found out. Maybe from Sam, maybe from the demon itself—doesn’t matter. The secret’s out.

“I did what I had to,” you say, keeping your voice steady even as your heart hammers in your chest.

Dean laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just something broken, something desperate. “What you had to?” he echoes, stepping closer, eyes burning into you. “You made a deal for me.”

You cross your arms, trying to keep your ground. “You were dying, Dean. There was no other way.”

“There’s always another way!” His voice rises, shaking the walls of the motel room. His breathing is heavy, uneven. “Damn it, you think I’d let you sacrifice yourself for me? Not a chance, sweetheart.”

“Like you haven’t done the same?” you snap, voice sharp. “How many times have you thrown yourself in the line of fire for me? How many times have you died for Sam? For everyone? But the second I try to save you, suddenly it’s a problem?”

Dean’s nostrils flare. “That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I can’t—” His voice breaks, and he stops, squeezing his eyes shut like he can force the emotion out of his body. His hands are trembling. When he opens his eyes again, they’re glassy, rimmed red with something too painful to name. “Because I can’t lose you,” he says, voice quieter now, rough and raw and full of a kind of desperation that shatters you.

Your chest tightens, the weight of it all pressing down on you.

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” you whisper.

Dean exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Jesus, you really thought I wouldn’t? You think I wouldn’t tear apart the whole goddamn world trying to figure out why you were acting off?” He runs a hand down his face, and when he looks at you again, he’s a mess of anger and devastation. “How long do you have?”

You hesitate, and that alone is enough of an answer.

“Goddammit,” he chokes, turning away from you like he can’t bear to look. He presses his hands to his knees, breathing heavy.

“I didn’t do this for you to waste time feeling guilty,” you say, stepping closer, placing a hand on his arm. “I did this because I love you. Because you deserve to live.”

Dean turns back to you, and before you can say another word, his hands are on your face, cupping your cheeks like you might disappear if he lets go. His forehead presses against yours, and his breath is shaky, uneven.

“I’m getting you out of this,” he swears, voice trembling with determination. “I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care if I have to burn Hell to the ground. You’re not going to die for me.”

Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t fight him.

Because if there’s one thing you know about Dean Winchester—it’s that when he makes a promise, he damn well keeps it.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler ⋆ @lovewolfspirit ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @KayleighWinchester ⋆ @s0urw00lf

[mmso-notlikethat]

Tommy finds Buck sitting alone on the rooftop of his apartment building in the dead of night, a blanket draped around his shoulders, a half-empty beer bottle beside him. It’s freezing, and the city below hums with life, but up here, it’s just the two of them.

Neither of them has spoken in months. The kind of silence that isn’t just about words but about everything left unsaid.

Tommy stands there for a moment, unsure. Buck doesn’t look over, just exhales, a cloud of breath visible in the cold air.

“You shouldn’t be up here alone.”

Buck lets out a humorless laugh. “You shouldn’t be here at all.”

Tommy swallows.

He could leave.

Maybe he should.

But instead, he says, “You called me.”

Buck finally turns, his eyes tired, hollow in a way that Tommy isn’t used to seeing. Like he’s been holding something heavy, something breaking him from the inside out. “I didn’t mean to.”

Tommy offers a small smile. “Yeah, you did.”

Buck looks away, gripping the beer bottle like it might hold him together. His voice, when he speaks, is quiet. Fractured. “I kept telling myself I was fine. That I was getting better.” He lets out a shaky breath. “Maddie is safe now, and Chim’s taking care of her. Eddie is probably happy with Chris, just like he should be. And you…”

“Me?”

Buck laughs, but it’s a hollow sound. “You’re fine, too. You’re always fine I guess.” He shakes his head, staring out at the city. “So why am I the only one who still feels like this?”

“Buck—”

Buck cuts him off, his voice breaking. “Tonight, I just—I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice.”

Tommy exhales sharply. “So you called.”

Buck nods. His knuckles go white around the bottle. “Yeah.” He laughs bitterly. “And the worst part? The second you picked up—because of course you did, I didn’t know what to say. I just—” He shrugs, his voice breaking. “I just wanted you.”

Tommy's chest tightens like someone’s squeezing the air out of him. He looks away, gripping the edge of the rooftop like it might anchor him. He shouldn’t say it. He knows that. But it’s late, and it’s cold, and Buck is sitting here looking like he’s one wrong word away from falling apart.

So, against all his better judgment, Tommy whispers, “Okay, say it now.”

Buck’s breath catches. He looks at Tommy then, like he’s searching for something. A reason. A lifeline.

The wind howls, and for the first time in months, Buck speaks the truth. “I miss you.”

Tommy closes his eyes. He didn’t want this for Buck when he left. He thought walking away would make it easier, that Buck would be fine, that he’d move on, be happy. But hearing it now—feeling it in the way Buck’s voice breaks—it just feels like he got everything wrong.

He hesitates before sitting down beside him.

Tommy barely has time to settle before Buck leans into him, his head dropping against Tommy’s shoulder like he doesn’t even have the strength to hold himself up anymore.

The breath Buck exhales is unsteady, like he’s been holding it in for too long, like he’s afraid to let go completely. His fingers tighten briefly around the bottle before going slack, the tension in his body melting away, even if only for a moment.

Tommy’s eyes catch on something next to the beer bottles—a small plate of cookies, untouched, sitting on a napkin.

He frowns. “cookies?”

Buck exhales, a quiet, humorless laugh. “Yeah, I made them.” A beat passes. Then, without looking at him, Buck shrugs. “Before I called you.”

Tommy doesn’t know why that sticks with him. Why it feels heavier than everything else.

He doesn’t ask about it. But something about them feels sad.

And instead of leaving, he reaches for Buck’s hand. He doesn’t say it back—not yet.

But he stays.

[bitebitekxll]

Do they purr - genshin non-humans

៚ Zhongli ✧ Xiao ✧ Wanderer ✧ Albedo ✧ Venti

Notes: Holy hell how do I have 50 followers??? THANK YOU EVERYONE FOR SUPPORTING MY SILLY MUSINGS. This literally was just my way to learn how to write smut and post self-indulgent head canons but I’m glad people are enjoying this with me :DDDD

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈 ᥫ᭡

Yes, 100%. He will deny it every time but lay on this man’s chest, maybe press a kiss to his jaw, and his chest is going like a fucking engine. He will insist that it’s not a purr, it’s simply a content growl— or perhaps a rumble, at most. He isn’t some measly cat, after all, he is a mighty dragon, the Prime Adeptus—

It’s definitely a purr.

Get him a cat ear hairband. He will give you the most long-suffering, unamused look while he wears them, but he will wear them. Anything for his beloved ♡~

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 ᥫ᭡

No, unfortunately. You have found no evidence that your stone-faced Yaksha is capable of emitting a purr, or purr-like sound (though certainly not for lacking of trying).

However… there is the matter of whether he is able to trill or coo like a bird, given that is his true nature.

He gets annoyed when you ask him, adamant that is not something he can do, and how dare you even entertain such a notion. Have you no respect for the adepti? Hmph.

…but you swear you’ve heard him chirp when you catch him off guard: kissing him without warning or praising him unabashedly.

It seems this will require further investigation.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 ᥫ᭡

Not purring, but whirring!! Got this idea from @seabirdtxt ‘s Glitch in Irminsul fic (it’s SAGAU focused on the diff vers of scara existing at the same time, go read it it’s great) and it just makes so much sense to me.

As a mechanical puppet, and an advanced one at that, Scara has tons of machinery going on inside of him. Though it usually can’t be heard, if you get especially close to his chest— a privilege only reserved for you and maybe Nahida during hugs —you can hear the whirring and clicking of his moving parts inside. It doesn’t sound the same as a purr, not exactly, but it’s pretty damn close.

Most of the time it’s pretty faint, but sometimes Scara might just make it louder— it’s got nothing to do with the way your face lights up or how you smile when you hear it, don’t be stupid.

Of course, the only way he can make the noise louder is by overworking his system, making the parts inside move faster than they’re supposed to. If he does it too much or for too long, well…

You’ll know it’s time to lecture him on taking better care of himself when he starts burning up. Overheating is the first sign he’s about to overload his system and shut down (or from everyone else’s perspective: pass out).

You’re the only one who can make him stupid enough to be willing to break his own mechanisms just to see that adorable ridiculous expression on your face. (He might come back to his senses in a petulant huff if you start calling him a cat, tho)

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐎 ᥫ᭡

Sadly, purring is not a feature homunculi come with. But this is Albedo we’re talking about, he can definitely figure it out.

He won’t tell you just what idea you’ve sparked with your question— you always worry when he starts self-experimenting —but it’ll be fine! He takes all the necessary precautions, limits any risk, because there’s always some risk in life, and downs a concoction or two in his quest to see if he can change the makeup of his own body. As an artificial life form, he’s less delicate than an organic one, so he doesn’t need to worry about pesky issues like rearranging his (non-existent) organs in a fatal manner.

And it works! Well, sort of. You come back home to a boyfriend that is fully capable of purring!! And also!! Has, uh, cat ears…

Albedo would consider it a success— he accomplished his goal, even if there were a few side effects. And you get a pretty catboy equipped with the cute, twitching ears and a fuzzy blonde tail; everybody wins! ♡

Of course, there’s always the chance his experiment just turns him into a cat entirely… but it wears off after a day or so, so it’s not the worst thing Albedo’s done to himself.

Either way, congratulations, he can now purr for the next 24 hours. And regardless of his cat-to-boy ratio, he will be expecting pets. Get to it~

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 ᥫ᭡

He has bird vocalisations! Except he’s worse at hiding it then Xiao may or may not be. It’s not outright chirping, but it is a cooing trill in the back of his throat, too vibrational to be a regular hum.

It’s the sound he makes when he’s perfectly content, laying in a warm patch of sun on the soft grass, sat atop a roof with alcohol warming his veins, and curled up in your arms, round cheek smushed against your chest. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs with your scent, and then releasing it in a sigh, accompanied by the musical tones of his little trill.

He makes shorter ones when he’s pleasantly surprised; when you unexpectedly toss him an apple or pat his head. He’ll grin or lean into the touch and make that sound in his throat. Too quiet to be heard by the people around you over the din of the town, but you’ll hear it. It’s a sound just for you ♡

[solxamber]

Hi! Trey, romantic, Casual by Chappell Roan:)

"Is it casual now?" || Trey Clover

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Casual by Chappell Roan

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 730

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Suggestive Content, Casual to serious relationship, Happy Ending

Trey doesn’t know what to do with you.

His friends say he should walk away. Riddle tells him he's being reckless. Cater tells him to live a little, but not this much. Even Ace, of all people, warns him not to get too attached.

"They’re just playing with you, Trey. You’re a good guy, but you’re not special to them. Something fun to pass the time."

He knows they’re right.

But when you text him at midnight, he still picks up his phone. When you tug him into your room, he still lets you push him against the wall.

When your hands are in his hair and your lips are on his neck, he still groans and gives you everything you want.

He knows how this ends.

You’ll tease him, take what you need, and then you’ll leave. And yet—

When you press against him in the dark, breath hot against his ear, when you whisper “You’re so good to me, Trey,”—he still hopes.

And he hates himself for it.

He should be stronger than this.

But every time he’s with you, his resolve cracks like fragile glass.

Because you never stay away for long.

You let him hold you after, even when you say this isn’t serious. You let him touch you, let his fingers linger, let him pull you back for one last kiss, then another, and another.

You tell him not to get attached, and then you slip your hands under his shirt, run your nails down his back, and he groans into your mouth.

You make it impossible for him to let go.

And god, he wants to let go.

Because you don’t belong to him. You never have.

But his shirts are still in your room. Your scent lingers on his skin. Your toothbrush sits next to his in the bathroom, and when he finds your favorite ring in his pocket one day, he swears he’s losing his mind.

He tries to be casual, too. He tries to play the same game.

But he still wakes up wanting more.

He wants to wake up with you in his arms, your legs tangled with his, your breath warm against his collarbone.

He wants you to drag him to brunch and introduce him as your boyfriend, wants to hear you say it like you mean it.

He wants lazy Sundays with you, wants you curled against his chest on the couch, wants to kiss you slow and deep without thinking it might be the last time.

Most of all, he wants you to want him back.

But he can’t pine alone forever.

So tonight, he’s ending this.

You’re draped over him, body warm and pliant, your fingers still tracing over his chest, teasing, tempting. You’re smiling like you know you have him wrapped around your finger. Like you know he won’t say no.

But tonight, you’re wrong.

“This is the last time,” Trey says, voice low and rough.

You pause, blinking up at him. “What?”

He exhales sharply, raking a hand through his messy hair. “I can’t do this anymore. Not if you don’t want something real.”

You stare at him. And then you shift, pressing your bare leg between his, your lips ghosting over his throat, the way you always do when you don’t want to answer a question. “Trey—”

“No.” His fingers grip your waist, holding you still. “Not this time. If I’m just a game to you, tell me now, and I’ll walk away.”

You don’t speak for a long moment.

Then, finally, quietly—

“…What if I don’t want you to?”

Trey stills. His breath catches. “What?”

Your fingers tighten around his arm, holding onto him like you’re scared he’ll slip away. “What if I want more?” You swallow hard. “What if I don’t want this to be casual anymore?”

His head is spinning. His heart is pounding so loudly, he swears you can hear it. “Say it again.”

“…I want you.”

And Trey breaks.

He kisses you, deep and hungry, pressing you down into the sheets, pouring everything he’s been holding back into you. His hands map over your skin, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he finally, finally has permission to love you.

Like he never wants to be casual with you ever again.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[00valentina-writes00]

ik this is a over done trope but reader flinching during and argument please with ambessa or sevika (ignore if this makes you un comfy)

Ahem how bout both?

✞⛧ Sevika AND Ambessa when you flinch during an argument ✞⛧

✞⛧𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒✞⛧

✞⛧ Sevika’s initial reaction would be a flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by a sharp, assessing gaze. She’s not one for unnecessary drama, but she can read the situation like a book.

✞⛧ Her first instinct would be to immediately back off, her posture stiffening as her mind runs through what she just did to make you flinch.

✞⛧ She’d never want to make you feel unsafe, and if she sees you flinch, she’d pause, her intense focus shifting to you. It would throw her off balance for a moment, not because she’s unsure of her own actions, but because she never wanted to make you feel that way.

✞⛧ Sevika’s eyes would narrow, her protective side kicking in as she looks at you like you’ve just wounded her in a way words can’t explain.

✞⛧ Her voice would soften, though not necessarily in a comforting way—it would be more of a controlled, cold calmness. “Did I scare you?” she’d ask, her tone low and even, though there’s a hint of frustration underlying it.

✞⛧ If you don’t answer, Sevika would get even more guarded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and giving you space while trying to hide how affected she is by the flinch.

✞⛧ Despite her tough exterior, Sevika would feel a pang of guilt. She’s not someone who tends to apologize, but she might mutter, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” in a rare moment of vulnerability.

✞⛧ She’d probably keep her distance for a while after that, trying to process what happened internally, but her eyes would never leave you—watching, waiting for some sort of response

✞⛧ Sevika would be incredibly introspective after the flinch, likely replaying the entire argument in her mind, dissecting what she said, and wondering if she was too harsh, too fast with her words.

✞⛧ Even though Sevika’s a fighter, she has an incredibly strong sense of pride, and seeing you flinch would hit her harder than she’d care to admit.

✞⛧ If you tried to apologize or explain why you flinched, Sevika would hold up a hand, telling you to stop. She’s not the kind of person to let you take the blame for something she feels responsible for.

✞⛧ You might see Sevika take a long breath and slowly step towards you, her usual stoic face replaced by something closer to concern—a rare sight for her.

✞⛧ If you’re still visibly shaken, Sevika would drop any argument she’s holding onto, her gaze softening as she focuses entirely on making sure you’re okay, though she’s still not great with emotions.

✞⛧ Her frustration would shift inward, and you might catch her muttering under her breath, “I didn’t mean to fucking hurt you.” It’s rare for Sevika to admit when she’s wrong, but she doesn’t like seeing you afraid of her.

✞⛧ Sevika would give you time to process, but she’d also be very blunt about how she’s feeling. “You think I would hurt you?” she’d ask, her voice quieter now, not filled with the anger it had earlier.

✞⛧ If you told her that you were just startled, she’d take that as a small relief, but still feel bad about the fact that it happened at all. “I’m not gonna hurt you, [Y/N],” she’d reaffirm, but with more emphasis on reassurance than defensiveness.

✞⛧ She might offer to sit down with you, her stance softened, but her brow furrowed in concentration. She’s not good with comforting, but she’ll try, even if it’s awkward.

✞⛧ The next time you argue, Sevika would be more cautious, taking a moment to gauge your reactions before she raises her voice or gets more heated. She’s not one for letting arguments go, but she’s not going to push you to the breaking point.

✞⛧ If you bring up what happened in the past, Sevika would have a hard time admitting how much it bothered her. She’d downplay it and act like it wasn’t a big deal, but deep down, she’s processing how to better handle your relationship.

✞⛧ Sevika might not openly show it, but seeing you flinch makes her question how she presents herself to you. She doesn’t want to be a source of fear, even though she often exudes a commanding, intimidating presence.

✞⛧ In rare moments, if you ask her about it later, Sevika would simply shrug it off but with a quiet intensity in her eyes. “I never wanted to make you feel like that. I just… don’t do well with soft shit,” she’d admit, showing how much she struggles with vulnerability.

✞⛧ She may not be able to apologize directly, but she’ll do things to make it up to you—maybe fixing the situation with actions rather than words. Her way of showing she cares would be by offering you the space you need and then following it up with practical support.

✞⛧ If you flinch again in the future, Sevika would tense up instantly, but this time, she’d be quicker to pull back, knowing how badly she messed up the last time.

✞⛧ Sevika might get frustrated with herself more than anything else. She’s not the type to back down from anything, but when it comes to making you feel comfortable, she’s out of her depth.

✞⛧ As she reflects on the situation, she might get a little defensive, questioning herself: Am I too much? But she’ll keep it to herself, never admitting to the self-doubt that follows moments like these.

✞⛧ She’ll probably make up for it by doing something practical for you—whether it’s taking on extra responsibilities or handling something that would ease your stress.

✞⛧ Sevika might also check in on you more often, even if it’s in her own blunt way. “You good?” she’d ask, trying to gauge where your head’s at and how she can fix things without making it awkward.

✞⛧ The next time you fight, Sevika would be less prone to raising her voice, realizing that yelling isn’t always the answer when it comes to you. She’d still argue with the same intensity, but she’d dial it back a little.

✞⛧ Sevika wouldn’t easily forgive herself for making you feel scared. Even if she doesn’t say it out loud, she would work harder to be less overwhelming when communicating with you.

✞⛧ As time passes, Sevika would subtly show that she’s learned to tone down her anger when she’s upset with you, recognizing that your emotional well-being is just as important as her need to be heard.

✞⛧ Even if the argument itself is unresolved, she’ll make sure the aftermath doesn’t leave you feeling like you’re walking on eggshells around her. If she needs to adjust her approach, she will, even if it takes time

✞⛧𝔸𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕒✞⛧

✞⛧ Ambessa would immediately notice the flinch, her sharp eyes narrowing with a flicker of concern. She’s not someone who misses details, especially when it comes to you.

✞⛧ Her first instinct would be to stop mid-sentence, her anger momentarily fading. She’s not used to seeing you afraid, and it causes a slight shift in her demeanor.

✞⛧ She’d take a deep breath, her voice lowering, no longer filled with the same intensity as before. “Did I scare you?” she’d ask, her tone surprisingly calm, but with a hint of vulnerability.

✞⛧ Ambessa is incredibly proud, so she’d try to mask her own unease. She’d raise an eyebrow, but there’s a subtle tension in her posture, as though she’s trying to figure out how to respond to your reaction.

✞⛧ She’d not apologize outright—Ambessa isn’t the type to back down from her beliefs—but she’d soften her approach, trying to gauge whether you’re physically okay or just emotionally shaken.

✞⛧ The moment she sees the flinch, a part of her feels a pang of guilt, though she wouldn’t admit it. Ambessa rarely shows vulnerability, so she’d struggle internally, not knowing how to reconcile this new layer of her relationship with you.

✞⛧ She would stop pacing or gesturing wildly, looking at you with a careful gaze. “You don’t need to be afraid of me,” she’d state, more as an assertion than a question, trying to convince herself just as much as you.

✞⛧ If you don’t say anything, Ambessa would grow increasingly frustrated with herself. She’s used to being the commanding presence in a room, but this is different. She doesn’t know how to fix it immediately.

✞⛧ Ambessa might take a step back, giving you space, though it’s clear she’s not used to this kind of emotional vulnerability. She’d cross her arms, trying to maintain her usual air of control, but she’s silently concerned about how much you’re affected.

✞⛧ She’d avoid making direct eye contact for a moment, visibly rethinking her words and actions. Ambessa is fiercely intelligent, and she’d be running through everything she just said, trying to pinpoint what made you flinch.

✞⛧ Ambessa might try to reassert her dominance in a different way, by sitting down or leaning against something, trying to display authority while simultaneously keeping her voice steady and calm. “This isn’t how I intended for this to go,” she’d admit quietly.

✞⛧ She’d attempt to approach you more carefully, though it’s clear she’s not quite sure how to be gentle. “Tell me what I did,” she’d ask, trying to understand why you reacted the way you did.

✞⛧ If you explain it’s not her fault but just the intensity of the argument, she’d frown deeply, taking that into account. Ambessa doesn’t like feeling misunderstood, but she would respect your honesty in this moment.

✞⛧ Ambessa would try to mask her emotions by shifting the conversation back to the issue at hand, but the tension in her body would remain. She’s used to arguing and controlling the situation, but this time it feels like she’s lost her grasp.

✞⛧ She’d likely keep the conversation civil afterward, but there would be an undercurrent of carefulness in her tone that wasn’t there before. She’d check in with you periodically, making sure you’re still okay.

✞⛧ Despite her initial reaction, she would be sensitive to any further signs of discomfort. Ambessa would be hyper-aware of your body language, making sure you’re not retreating or shrinking away from her.

✞⛧ If the argument continues, Ambessa would intentionally lower her tone, trying not to overwhelm you with her usual fire. She may even offer a compromise, though it’s a rare moment where she’s willing to soften her stance.

✞⛧ Ambessa is fiercely protective, so if she feels like she’s been too harsh, she might take a subtle step back from being confrontational and offer reassurance. “You’re important to me,” she’d say, though not in a way that’s overly affectionate.

✞⛧ She’s not quick to apologize, but in rare moments like this, she might drop her defenses just enough to show a softer side. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” she’d admit quietly, her voice lacking its usual edge.

✞⛧ Ambessa would be conflicted. She knows her strength can be intimidating, but she also values loyalty and respect above all else. Seeing you flinch causes her to question if she’s gone too far in asserting herself.

✞⛧ If you try to walk away or distance yourself, Ambessa would stay rooted, allowing you space but not letting you escape the conversation entirely. She’d want to resolve things, but she’d give you the autonomy to handle the situation at your own pace.

✞⛧ She may change her approach entirely, opting for a more measured and less commanding tone. If she feels like she’s pushed too hard, she’ll shift back into a more controlled demeanor, but the worry will be evident in her eyes

✞⛧ Afterward, Ambessa might focus on actions over words. She would make sure you’re comfortable, making the effort to attend to your needs in practical ways, like preparing food or taking care of other responsibilities.

✞⛧ Her pride won’t let her completely back down, but she’ll make it known that she’s not a threat to you. “We’re not enemies,” she’d remind you with a subtle gesture of reassurance.

✞⛧ Despite being a formidable leader, Ambessa would be deeply shaken by your reaction. She’d want to reassure you of her commitment, even though she might not be the best at expressing it openly.

✞⛧ If the tension continues to linger, Ambessa might get frustrated with herself. She’s used to maintaining control, and being in a position where she’s unsure of how to fix things challenges her more than she’s willing to admit.

✞⛧ Ambessa would want to avoid you feeling like you’re walking on eggshells around her, so she might take extra care not to escalate things further. She would be cautious in her tone and actions, trying to bring down the tension.

✞⛧ If the argument comes up again in the future, Ambessa would be far more aware of her approach, actively trying to make sure that she doesn’t trigger another flinch from you. She’d try to use her words more carefully, even if that means holding back some of her usual fire.

✞⛧ Ambessa may not be used to showing this side of herself, but if you’re still upset or anxious, she would give you space to talk about it, even if it means dropping her pride to listen.

✞⛧ In her quieter moments, Ambessa might confide in you about her struggle with balancing strength and vulnerability. “I wasn’t raised to show weakness,” she’d admit, revealing a small crack in her otherwise impervious exterior

✞⛧ Ultimately, Ambessa would want to make sure you feel safe, heard, and respected. While she might still have moments of pride or dominance, she’ll take extra steps to show that she’s not going to harm you, emotionally or physically.

✞⛧ Though Ambessa may not say it out loud, seeing you flinch would make her reflect on her leadership style and the way she manages relationships. It would be a turning point for her in considering how she communicates with you.

[weirdero]

I’ve seen a lot of people speculating that Gemma’s storyline will lead to a cloning reveal, which like, it’s a decent theory and wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But god, this show is so specific and detail oriented Ben Stiller himself has even said nothing in the show is a coincidence. The cloning theory has also been shut down a couple times by some producers and writes from what I understand and idk I feel like a cloning reveal would just be so boring. And honestly, I don’t know if this is insane, but I’m fully leaning towards the idea that when it comes to Ms. Casey/Gemma, it’s more of a resurrection situation.

Okay so hear me out I believe our Ms. Casey is still physically Gemma her original body, her bones, her blood she’s alive baby that’s her but like also it’s not her. It’s like in horror or fantasy stories when a character dies and comes back but comes back wrong YK?. Physically it’s still them but it’s not them. In my opinion, her brain has been completely reset, wiping away whatever kind of person she used to be.

To back this theory I’ve been heavily leaning on the interaction between Ms. Cobel and Helena in the parking lot and just the general existence of the Mammalian Nurturable department.

Now, I might be reading into this too much, but I just love these characters so much and this show so please bear with me, this is a long one.

this season Harmony/Ms. Cobel is a problem. Like there is just no way she isn’t. Lumon is already struggling to keep it together after the scandal the main four caused, and a change in management isn’t helping. People are (probably) starting to pay attention, and they do not need that kind of heat. Ms. Cobel literally crashing tf out making herself homeless and sneaking around in the dark probably isn’t helping.

Helena’s choice of words have always stood out to me. She’s calculated, smart, and precise in how she speak just like Harmony. Both of them are masters at saying exactly what they need to without ever outright saying it yk? So when she she spots Cobel in the parking lot in the middle of the night she clocks her immediately.

Harmony walks out as if she still has a job in that bitch and has the audacity to tell Helena what her needs are and exactly how they should be met. And in my opinion, Helena is appalled but not surprised. She calls her out on her behavior.

“I hear ego, hubris, and arrogance. Kier teaches us they only cause pain.”

To me, this isn’t just a read it’s a warning. Harmony doesn’t take it. She bites back, calling Helena a NEPOTISM BABY. wild.

And I mean look at Helena’s face.

So Helena lays it out for her as plainly as possible

“We didn’t have to ask you back.”

No translation even needed, she just said it flat out Baby, we don’t need you here. You do not, no matter what you think, represent us. You are not Lumon.

And Harmony, being just as cunty clocks her shit right back

“You didn’t have a choice.”

At this point, Ms. Cobel isn’t just skating on thin ice she’s walking across a frozen lake in metal combat boots, her ass skipping around as if the ice won’t break. And that’s her mistake.

Helena, after giving Harmony multiple chances to walk away. Multiple chances to come back in on lumons terms. Multiple chances to stop playing in her fucking face, finally pulls back with a kind smile and offers her a chance to “restart”.

As they walk towards the car, Ms. Cobel locks eyes with Helena’s bodyguard and the instant terror is actually insane. Full deer in headlights.

A lot of people saw that shot and took it as a straight-up Sopranos esque death threat like, if she gets in that car, she’s not gonna survive the drive (RIP Audriana). And sure, it could be as simple as that, but this show is just way too good for it to be that simple.

I think Cobel recognizes the bodyguard. She knows him and I mean like fr knows him.

I saw a theory on Reddit suggesting that the bodyguard might be someone she knew maybe a former coworker, someone from her personal life (they suggested it could’ve been someone she was super close with before she even became the woman we know today) idk just somebody she knows knows and out of nowhere suddenly, he’s here, presented as Helena’s bodyguard. But it’s not him. It’s his skin, his bones, his blood but it’s not HIM.

And the way it plays out, it doesn’t seem like the bodyguard recognizes her at least not in the same way she knows him. That stare man that stare. I didn’t even know Harmony could experience fear. Who knows, maybe in that moment she’s reflecting on everything that’s happened. She bitched out the boss’s daughter in this empty ass parking lot on the brink of a mental break down, and suddenly there’s a chance to start over. All she has to do is get in that car, with that man, talk to the higher-ups, and hit the “reset” button.

Basically my theory is that Lumon are essentially grave robbing the fuck out of that town. Taking people who have been in serious accidents car crashes, house fires, construction site falls, factory explosion, hell even a drive by. I also think they’re also taking drug addicts, the homeless people who have no loved ones looking out for them, or even looking for them at all, the ones who are confirmed to be gone in every way, physically or emotionally. They’re taking these people and giving them a full system reset rebooting the computer.

By doing this, Lumon gets to create a free labor force that works 24/7 without question or resistance, exploiting people who have no emotional ties or support systems. Blank slate baby! They’re also using these individuals as test subjects for whatever weird shit they wanna launch out as a new product.

This helps explain a lot of the weird shit going on with the employees at Mammalian Nurturable. They look so rough and are also really off-putting towards outsiders. Which is understandable but I genuinely believe they haven’t even “clocked out” in days, if not ever.

Even though this theory makes the most sense to me, It still has its plot holes like if Gemma isn’t a clone and it’s her “resurrected” where does she go when she’s not her innie. In Season 1, she tells Mark she’s only conscious as her innie for a couple of minutes at a time, and the longest she’s ever stayed “alive” was the 8 hours she spent with his department. So where tf is she if not there as Ms Casey i don’t know man I do not know.

Anyways I have some other general curiosities about the town itself and why Lumon decided to build their main building there. I saw a TikTok video of someone saying it reminded them of company-built towns like Hershey Pennsylvania or Kodak Town, and I agree. Anywho I love this show so much it hurts I hope it never dies I literally missed having an obsession this intense I hope it gets all the love and awards it deserves!!

[dchuntress]

Subject: Re: Extension Request

Hi Madi,

I had your sister in my class two years ago. Samantha O'Reilly was sharp, determined, and never backed down when she knew she was right. She believed in Gotham and its ability to get better in a way that, frankly, inspired me. I remember helping her with her essay for college applications, and I knew then if anybody was going to revolutionize Gotham's healthcare, it was her.

It hurts to hear that she's gone missing. But I do not believe that Scarecrow has the power to change her, to take away who she really is. She may be manipulated, she may be roped into his schemes, but she isn't lost, my dear. She is in trouble. And those are not the same thing.

She needs us to believe in her more than ever. And I need you to have faith in yourself, too.

Take the extension. Take all the time you need to cope and focus. If doing schoolwork gives you something steady to hold onto, then do what you need to do. But by no means think that you need to prove something by burning yourself out, Madi. You are brilliant and dedicated, and you don't need me or my opinions to know that. Your well-being comes first.

If Scarecrow is recruiting, then he is expanding, and I need you and your family to stay far away from his radar at all times. Keep your routines unpredictable and your location private. Stay with people you trust and be wary of anybody new who take an interest in you. If anything ever feels off — strangers watching you, cryptic messages, odd delivers, friends going missing — let me know immediately.

Scarecrow preys on fear, but he cannot really destroy you, Sam, or anybody else in this city. Not in a way that matters, as long as we remain steadfast even in our nightmares and our uncertainty. I understand how helpless this feels, and I don't have the right to tell you not to feel that way. The trajectory of your lives may have changed irreversibly, and things might not be the same.

But what I will tell you is that the love you have for Samantha is far more powerful than whatever Scarecrow throws in her way. Don't give up on your sister, Madi.

And do not, even for one second, think you are alone in this: you are not. Sam has people looking out for her, you have people looking out for you. You have me in your corner, by your side, always.

So, do not hesitate to reach out for anything. I mean that, Madison. Take care of yourself.

All my love,

Helena

Huntress doesn't care that that by now Scarecrow is intimately familiar with what makes her tick, what makes her crack, what makes her falter. She doesn't care how fortified his lair is; numerous lackeys ready to launch into bloodshed in an instant, the air reeking with gases and chemicals threatening to send Huntress spiralling down, breaking down, hesitating. She doesn't hesitate. Helena's spent weeks tearing through Scarecrow's operations — destroying labs, cutting off supply chains, thinking she was making a dent. And still, here they are. Another name added to the list of Gotham's stolen, neglected, forgotten. Another bright mind warped into something ugly. All that Huntress cares about right now is getting Sam out of there and back home in one piece, alive and breathing. She doesn't care if Madison's sister is already brainwashed beyond recognition, if she might resist at every step of the way out. That's a problem for later — for Oracle, for Batman, for Zatanna, for anybody to undo. Huntress' job is extraction. Making sure there's someone still left to save. Huntress doesn't care how deep into the darkness Scarecrow has dragged Samantha. She's pulling her out.

—

Subject: Re: Interview With The CatWoman

Hi Ananya,

Well, of course, you would be the one to track down Catwoman and persuade her to do an interview. I'm not all surprised, and I am perhaps a teensy tiny bit impressed.

I must admit, this is not what I was expecting. And I do hope you're staying safe, young lady, I'm not thrilled that you got that close to such a volatile situation. But I understand how these things unfold.

That being said, you showed great initiative and quick thinking. You saw someone who made a real, tangible impact on your surroundings, and you found an unconventional yet necessary perspective into your work. That is the heart of analysis and good storytelling.

No signature? No problem. I'm obviously not going to ask you to chase down her just for an autograph and risk getting clawed. And let's be honest, Ms Catwoman doesn't strike me as someone who enjoys leaving paper trail behind. Some people let their actions speak for them.

And that’s the thing, isn't it? The point of this assignment isn't to necessarily scout out a well-known superhero, but to find someone who makes a difference, someone who helps out. You don't need a badge, a title, or anybody's permission to do the right thing — you just do it.

Your interview was solid, and I’ve given you a good grade. Take a look at my feedback in the attached scan when you get the chance, though — there are a few areas that could use some refining. You’ve got a great story here, kid. Let’s make sure it's told right.

Nice work. Stay safe.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

[ Attachment: I_Interview_Catwoman_scan.pdf ]

The fire escape isn't the most comfortable perch, but it gives her a decent vantage point. And it's a good enough spot to read Ananya's work thoroughly, annotate, and get a glimpse of a side of Selina Kyle that Huntress doesn't see much. The side that steps in, the side that doesn't let drug dealers get away with thinking they can take advantage of young minds, the side that answers a bubbly, young teenager's questions with warmth, charisma, and a signature flair that's uniquely, intriguingly hers. The side that gives a damn. Catwoman is nothing less of a wild card, but Selina has a good head on her shoulders — draws lines that she doesn't like to see get crossed. The Cat always lands on her feet, and tonight, Huntress wonders if she'll land on the right side. If she'll give another damn and show up. Catwoman isn't anybody's idea of a hero in the traditional sense. But again, neither is Huntress. Selina knows the darkness that prevails on the broken, vulnerable streets of this city; all-consuming and never forgiving. Helena knows that darkness too. The kind of darkness that chews up and spits out anybody into a hollow husk of their selves. The kind of darkness they both refuse to be caged by any longer. The kind of darkness they won't let engulf innocent kids anymore. Huntress hopes—prays for Sam's sake that Selina will hear her out. And extend that listening ear to Pamela, whose brilliance rivals that of Crane's. His brainwashing isn't impossible to tackle, but it spreads rapidly throughout the nervous system. Ivy might know how to reign those in before it's too late. And Catwoman might be able to convince her to step in. And maybe — just maybe, if Helena's prayers are heard, Selina might just know the darkness well enough to predict where Gotham's missing kids go when the rest of the city falls asleep. It's a long shot. But long shots are all Huntress has.

—

Subject: Re: pokodot man stole my shirts and i have nothing to wear for the trip :(

Hi Ken,

Are you and your mom safe? That's my main concern.

That being said — seriously, Ken? Polka-dot shirts?

I'll be honest, this is a first, even for Gotham. This city truly never runs out of weird. I have no issue excusing the class trip, but I will need more details before I write "Absence due to polka-dot-related crimes" in the attendance log. Please ask your mother to call me when she has a moment and we'll sort it out.

Best,

Miss Bertinelli

Seriously, the Polka-Dot Man? Scrounging the local laundromat and looting some kid's shirts that won't even fit him? The mental image alone should've made her laugh. Gotham's walking eyesore, some washed-up D-list villain, shifting through other people's laundry baskets — and possibly the bargain bins at joke shops for a suit upgrade. But Huntress didn't. Not a lot of jokes were really that funny in Gotham. They tended to die and rot out in your mouth before you could spit them out. There was the simple set-up:

Some ridiculously, mind-numbingly, garnish gimmicks and corny costumes that'd even make a two-year-old roll their eyes. And then there was the punchline:

The bloodbath that spilled all over for rogues to lap, the homes that were left in ruins. Or a laundromat, in this case. A flick of Abner’s wrist sent a cluster of neon dots whirling through the air, and Huntress barely dodged in time — one of them piercing straight into a dryer, causing it to blow up on impact. The polka dots weren't really just a bad fashion statement. They were weaponised — hot, colourful, searing disks flung at her with deadly precision, sizzling against the concrete like dying stars when they missed. The next one sliced through her thigh, drawing blood with a burning tenacity. Yeah, she wasn't laughing. And Huntress didn't think for even one second that Abner Krill was just dillydallying at laundromats, but she wasn't going to stroke his ego either. "The Suicide Squad kick you to the curb or something?" She taunted, as she dodged a buzzsaw dot and rolled behind a vending machine. "Didn't think you were shaking down dryers for spare quarters now!" A beat of silence after that — the dots have come to a halt. A pause long enough for her to peek out. For him to give her a smile. "You think this is about the laundry, Huntress?" Abner stood there, casually twirling a glowing dot between his fingers. "You think this is all I'm doing? You don't think I'm capable of anything greater?" Abner laughed a loud, joyless laugh. "You're just like my mom, Huntress." "Gross, dude," Helena shot back, swiftly placing a bolt in her crossbow. "Why? Mothers are like bridges, you know..." His smile broadened, but never reached his eyes. "People trust them without question." His smile fell. He flicked his wrist — And she fired, and — The dot and the bolt met in a thunderous crash. In the back of her head, she wondered if his quip was just some dumb, random, stupid inside joke she wasn't supposed to get, and — Huntress really wished she didn't.

—

Subject: Re: ...

Hello Malik,

I need you to listen to me very carefully. Thank you for trusting me. I know this is a scary situation to be in, but you did the right thing by letting me know.

I want you and your dad to stay safe. If you have family somewhere else, consider staying with them for a while. Otherwise, I can send you a list of trustworthy places you'll be safe — shelters, community centers, mosques.

Be selective in whom you trust at this time. Trust your judgement. Keep your head down, avoid drawing attention, and if you notice anything suspicious, don’t try to check it out on your own. Just leave, get somewhere safe, and call for help. You're doing the best you can already.

And listen, kid — whenever you feel like you’re out of options, whenever you want to shout into the void, whenever you think no one's listening? I'm here to hear you. You can always tell me anything. Everything you say will stay between us. If you're worried about your dad knowing, I won't say a word to him.

I'm very sorry the police aren't taking this seriously. But I believe you, Malik. And I know some people who will believe you too. We will figure something out together.

We will keep our city safe. And that starts by keeping ourselves safe.

Okay?

Stay in touch.

With love and prayers,

Miss Bertinelli

Her heart aches. God. Good God, why — why is she the only adult that Malik can trust? That's — that's not right! Malik doesn't know that his teacher wields a weapon uglier than a pen. Malik doesn't know that her face is slick with blood — blood that's not hers. Malik doesn't know the ugly things she does in the nighttime to secure a brighter morning for other people. But Malik has faith. He trusts that Miss Bertinelli with that information, he trusts her — a schoolteacher — to do something about a citywide threat. This isn't a fight she can win on her own. So, mirroring that trust, she casts the net wide, spreading his warning like wildfire and hoping it reaches the right people — enough people. Oracle's Birds, the Bat's brats, the few independents that don't answer to Batman, and hell, even a handful of rogues that hate Joker more than they hate Huntress. Anybody outside of Gotham willing to cross the distance just to get their punches in. Some of her allies are still en-route, others have already started petty brawls in proximity, few are monitoring the area, some are waiting for the right moment to strike. But her gaze is locked on the bridge: it's still in one place. Blood rings in her head and burns in her eyes. The bridge isn’t just that — it's a crucial artery of Gotham. One wrong move, one wrong incision, and — And it won’t just fall. It’ll crush. Families. Homes. Futures. A graveyard that symbolises their failure to protect Gotham's innocent, effectively punishing these people for not being able to afford to live elsewhere. That caked-faced bastard picked his target well. Damn him, damn him, damn— Tears sting her eyes. She doesn't know if she can do this. She doesn't know if her allies of the night can save the day in time. She doesn't know if the bridge will stay intact. She doesn't know if they'll prevent casualties. She doesn't know how it ends tonight, and what happens tomorrow. (But Huntress has faith.) Something cold and solid brushes against her boot, snaps her out. She looks down and picks it up. A crowbar. Her grip tightens. The last time one of these was in the wrong hand, a young child died screaming. As if life means nothing. He took an innocent life — as he always did, destroying lives beyond repair, beyond redemption, beyond reprieve. (Never again.) And tonight, he has set out to claim thousands of lives, millions more in collateral damage. But that won't happen. No. No more families torn apart. No more children left in despair. No more bodies will be piled up at his feet. Because it won't be the damn bridge that falls.

(Never again.) Because Huntress has faith. She touches the cross at her throat, and remembers she is here. (NEVER AGAIN.) She brings the crowbar down — breaking the metal and a lackey's bone simultaneously. Reloads her crossbow. Marches ahead. Beside her, movement. More figures joining the fight. Allies, reluctant or otherwise. Capes, good and bad alike, drawn to this fight like vultures, like wolves, like something holy. She doesn't stop to look back. "Let's finish this."

—

Subject: Re: Library Suggestions

Hi Eden,

You're smart to trust your gut. If something smells fishy, it's probably not for no reason.

Here are some safer options:

• Hemingway Community Library: Well-lit, quiet, good security. It's run by the volunteers in the neighborhood, so the staff actually care.

• Eastpoint Library: This one's near your aunt's workplace. Might make pickups easier. Oh, and Sol Azteca is close by — you two should stop there for the carnitas tacos. Best in Gotham.

• Gotham City Public Library: Not super close, but it’s just one bus stop away. A friend of mine works there, Dr Gordon. She’s nicer than she looks — if you need anything, you can always approach her.

• The Woolf & Austen Bookshop: My personal pick? This bookstore on 5th and Wilburn. Good coffee, quiet atmosphere. I drop by there a lot. A little farther out from the school, but it's near my apartment. I don't do any grading here, I promise.

• If none of those work for you, let me know. I’ll help you figure something out.

And don't apologize for reaching out. You deserve safe spaces. Always.

Take care,

Miss B

Huntress follows her own gut, too. She steps into the library and immediately smells it: Not old books, not dust, not coffee — chemical rot, dense in the air. It’s a lab. A drug operation. Of fucking course. The same bastards who occupied Miriam's apartment basement have moved their operations here. The same ones Selina stopped from selling drugs to kids. Gotham’s rogues aren’t criminal masterminds. They’re roaches. The kind that refuse to die, that scurry to a new corner when the light exposes them. The kind that don’t learn their lesson until their heads have been shoved into a bookshelf hard enough to make them beg for a third chance. Unfortunately — or otherwise — Miss B doesn't know how to quit either.

one of helena bertinelli's students emailing her at 12:59 am asking if it's too late to submit their assignment now since their house got burned down due to gotham incidents:

helena bertinelli responding at 1:07 am after grading their work and reassuring them it's fine even though she's literally yet to take care of the third degree burns on top of 500 other fatal injuries she just got from her other job:

[kennothythebard]

So I've been obsessed with @deepblueink2d's Deep Space Discounts (which you should watch here! It's like half an hour and it's so good) and last night I wrote a song about it. It's from Immy's perspective just kind of recapping s1 and also a little bit her relation with her coworkers (esp Vee). I recorded this so quickly, I was just so excited to share it. I hope yall like it!

Huge props to DeepBlueInk for making something so incredible, I can't wait to see where it goes next! Lyrics under the cut.

Stressed and not sure how I got here Closing eyes, taking a breath Could it be I’ve made the right choice? Or is this a fate worse than death?

I think I’m getting the picture Everyone here has their place You can be found planted firm in the ground While I’m floating off into space

Can you hear me? Will my screams ever get through to you? I’m stuck staring Far off into this deep blue And I’m left to wonder If you might be staring out too

Every day brings new surprises Every day brings new complaints Other folks get through much harder than this But they have the patience of saints

Slowing down isn’t an option (Come on, take a break) That can’t be part of my plan (Just five minutes with me) If I’m doing time then it must fit my crime So I’ll make up however I can

Can you hear me? Will my messages ever get through? (Will I ever get through?) Out this window We can see so deep into the blue (Stare with me into the blue) And looking out’s fine So long as I’m looking with you

Am I the first one of many? Am I the last of my kind? I’m still alive, and I’m here with you five So I guess I don’t really mind

Can you hear me? Will I die someone you hardly knew? (I could die here with you) I’m still floating Further into this deep blue (Please let me float here with you) So please don’t let go ‘Cause I’m holding on tightly to you

[queermccoy]

I wish you would write a fic where bucktommy get off on watching a sextape they made with each other pre-break up after they get back together

this got weird! and a little long, so it's under a cut.

(i'm not taking i wish you would writes anymore)

----

"Did you watch it?" Buck asked. "After you broke up with me?"

He gestured to the television across the room with his elbow. His hands were busy pushing his sweatpants down his thighs.

Playing at a volume low enough for them to hear clearly, but not so loud they were giving Buck's downstairs neighbor free jerk-off audio, was a video Tommy had made of Buck, back when they were dating the first time. Past-Buck, still a shiny new cocksucker, was pressing open-mouth kisses along Past-Tommy's thick red cock with wet, swollen lips.

Now-Tommy, palming his cock through his obscenely tented basketball shorts, looked at Buck. His eyes were intense, dark with arousal and bright. They weren't hazy, not yet. They were just getting started.

"I did," Tommy admitted. He licked his lips, eyes flicking to Buck, to where he was fisting his cock, and then over to the television. "How could I not, when you looked liked like that?"

As if waiting for his cue, the Buck on tv choked on Tommy's cock, saliva bubbling out of his mouth and down his chin. God, Buck's lips had been so, so pink; puffy and so fucking sexy. Maybe it was narcissistic, but Buck was hot, especially looking up at Tommy, at the camera, with his eyes red rimmed and teary. His face had been burning, Buck remembered. He'd been hot all over.

He was hot all over now.

The camera shook, the Tommy behind it shifting. His hand entered the focus, fingers raking through that Buck's hair. It had been longer then.

"Did you watch it?" Tommy continued, bringing Buck to the present. He heard Tommy spit. It sent a shiver through him, cock throbbing in his hand, getting harder, somehow. He'd been hard since they started casting their homemade porn but the sound of Tommy jerking off to it too was enormous in Buck's ears.

"Yeah," he admitted. Without thinking he continued, "I missed your cock."

God, had he. Buck had missed the heft of it in his hands. In his mouth. The ghost of it kissing his soft pallet haunting him through loaf after loaf of misery bread. He felt it then, sitting next to Tommy, the phantom taste of it in the back of his throat. Jesus Christ, but Buck loved dick. He could smell it, in his memories and from his right, where Tommy was touching himself. It was getting to Buck. He felt like an upturned bag of marbles.

"I missed you so much, Tommy," he said over the sound of his throat working; choking, glucking. Wet.

Tommy groaned. "What else did you miss, baby?"

Buck rubbed his thumb against the weeping head of his cock, smearing precome. "The way your hair curled in the morning," he said instead of any of the dirty things Tommy probably thought he would. "Th-that smile you have that—that feels like a hug and re-reprimand at the same time. How do you do that? It's so hot!"

A flash of warmth at the memory of Tommy in Buck's space, the way he took up so much of it and seemed to warp it around himself, spliced overtop the sight of Past-Tommy's big hands on either side of Past-Buck's face, holding him still to fuck it. Buck was so fucking close.

"Jesus, Evan," Tommy breathed.

But Buck wasn't a person anymore; he was a bundle of almost-frayed nerves where a man used to be. "Your hands too," he said. The version of Tommy on tv was stroking that Buck's cheekbones with his thumbs. Square. "Holding mugs. M-missed that."

The sounds from Tommy slowed. Buck glanced over and Tommy had stopped jerking himself off, eyes on Buck, gaze full of longing and affection and something that might be awe.

"And—and your cock in my throat! I missed that too! But—but the way your shoulders look in that one sw-sweater? The green one, with the button?" Buck groaned and closed his eyes. He tipped his head back against the back of the couch. "You're so hot."

"You're killing me, kid," Tommy whined, then Buck heard the slick movement of his hand on his cock again.

The sounds of it, the sounds of Past-Buck's raspy breathing, all of it—the sights, the smells, the velvet soft memories—everything, swirled and packed themselves tightly under Buck's belly. It released with a bright burst, Buck coming all over his fist. He laughed, delighted, and cracked open his eyes to watch it coat his fingers, shooting and landing on the hem of his shirt where it wasn't pushed up his stomach enough. Grinning, he looked over at Tommy. He was watching Buck with hazy eyes.

Ah, there he was.

Without thinking about it, Buck kicked off his sweats and then slid to his knees between Tommy's thighs, suddenly desperate to reenact their sex tape.

A new memory.

[steddiehyperfixation]

steve harrington's phone number

@steddiebingo prompt: van | 1.7k words | rated T

“Stupid- useless piece of shit!” Eddie barely manages to pull his coughing, spluttering van over to the side of the road before it chokes to a stop with a dying wheeze. “Fucking drama queen.” He gets out and gives the side of the van a good kick, chastizing it for its very loud and inconvenient death. 

Just his luck it would decide to break down here, on a nothing stretch of road several miles outside of town. Too far to walk but not all that long of a drive if his stupid car could’ve just toughed it out a little while longer. “You really couldn’t have held on for like ten more minutes?” he grumbles, kicking the van again. The van, of course, does not answer and remains quite dead. Eddie mutters a few more curses and pulls his jacket tighter around himself against the late November chill as he wanders around to the front of the car to pop the hood. 

It’s an entirely useless gesture, popping the hood. Even before he opens it he knows he’s still not going to have a single clue what’s broken or how to fix it. The inner workings of a car are utterly foreign to him, an alien language of metal and grease that he stupidly never cared to learn. He stares blankly at the incomprehensible jumble of machinery before him, cursing himself for all those times he’d evaded and complained his way out of Wayne’s attempts to teach him how to do his own auto repairs. His uncle’s boring handyman lessons would’ve really come in handy right now, if only he’d had the foresight to listen. 

With a huffed out sigh, Eddie slams the hood back down. He’s going to have to call someone.

Thankfully he can see a roadside payphone not too far off in the distance, about half a mile out maybe. He rummages through his pockets and paws around the front seat of the van for any spare change he could use. He’d just blown through most of the money he had on him at a record store in Indy, but he manages to scrounge up enough coins for one call. Just one. So he has to choose wisely. He starts his trudge to the payphone while he runs through a mental list of options, feeling increasingly frustrated and hopeless as he crosses each of them off one by one. 

A tow truck is too expensive. His uncle is at work. Half his friends can’t drive, and not a single one of them knows anything about cars anyways so they wouldn’t be much help beyond a ride home (and he’d really rather not have to just leave his van on the side of the road). He needs someone who’s free, can drive, and has enough of a working knowledge of cars to possibly be able to give his van enough of a second wind to make it home. 

Which is how he finds himself in a dingy little phone booth punching in Steve Harrington’s number - a number he’s never called before yet somehow memorized, recalling it clearly in his mind’s eye in the scrawl of Steve’s handwriting on notebook paper. 

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking,” Steve’s voice comes through the line, automatic and rehearsed.

“Okay, I’ll make fun of that weirdly formal greeting later,” Eddie decides, “but right now, uh- man, I really hate to do this, but do you happen to know anything about fixing cars?”

“Eddie, hey,” Steve sounds almost startled to hear from him. “Um, yeah, I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but I know enough to get by. Why?” 

“My van just broke down on my way back from the city and I was hoping you might be willing to do me a huge huge favor and come out here and see if you can help me get her started again.” Eddie puts all the desperation he can into his voice, which really isn’t hard. His distress is 100% genuine. “Please? I’m desperate here, Harrington. I’d be forever in your debt, I’ll-” 

“Okay,” Steve says before Eddie can start bargaining. So simply, so easily. He really wasn’t expecting it to be that easy.

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll help you. Where are you?”  

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god- thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I owe you my life, seriously-” 

“Munson,” Steve cuts him off again, repeating his question, “where are you?” 

“Right, yeah.” Eddie gives his best approximation of where he is and Steve promises to be there as soon as he can before hanging up. Feeling a little bit lighter now, Eddie treks back to wait by his van.

The sun has just dipped below the horizon, streaking the sky with pink and gold, when Steve’s BMW pulls up and he steps out of the car bathed in the orange glow of sunset, looking every bit the rescuing angel. A dashing hero straight out of a fairytale; Eddie can almost picture him with a sword in his hands instead of a toolbox, a noble steed behind him instead of a car. 

He expresses only a satirized version of that sentiment, clasping his hands over his heart and gasping theatrically in greeting, “Harrington, my hero!” And he grins as Steve rolls his eyes in response. 

“Hi, Eddie.” Steve approaches, plunks his toolbox on the front of the van and leans against it. “You know, I’m surprised you called me. It didn’t seem like you were ever going to.” 

Eddie shrugs, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I just- I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be able to help me. I’m sorry if me calling you, like, freaked you out for a second there.” 

Steve’s eyes narrow and his head tilts like a confused puppy. “Why would you calling freak me out?” 

“Well, I mean, you only gave me your number in case something happened with the kids, right?” Eddie states. “So, I didn’t mean to make you worried at first that there might’ve been, like, a Dustin emergency or something.” 

“Oh…” A number of emotions flicker across Steve’s face as he seems to come to some sort of realization, and his expression ultimately settles on vaguely amused. “Right, yeah. Totally.” 

Now Eddie’s the one who’s confused, feeling like he’s missed a punchline. “Is that…not why you gave me your number?” It’s not like it had actually been explicitly stated, but they’d just been talking about the kids right before Steve had written his number down, so Eddie had just assumed that was the reason. 

“No, it-” Steve shakes his head and smiles, a little bit fond, a little bit like he’s still sharing some kind of inside joke with himself. “It’s not important right now,” he decides. “Let’s just figure out your van first, alright? What was going on with it before it broke down?” 

“Well, I don't actually know,” Eddie says, “but she was being very loud and dramatic about it.” 

“Huh, I’ve heard of pets developing similar personalities to their owners but I’ve never heard of cars doing it.” 

“Oh shut up.” 

Steve grins, pushing himself off the front of the car so he can open the hood and take a look. He immediately starts to tinker around with some stuff. Eddie has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, but he sure looks good doing it. There’s a cold breeze in the air, getting colder by the minute with the slowly darkening sky, but something about watching Steve’s arms as he works a wrench into the machinery has Eddie feeling strangely warm. 

Steve’s talking, probably trying to explain what he’s doing or what’s wrong with the van, though Eddie’s not catching a word of it. He couldn’t pay attention even if he tried, and not just because he’s distracted by Steve’s arms. The other half of his mind is still stubbornly stuck on the whole thing about Steve’s number, racking his brain trying to figure out why the hell else he would’ve given it to him. 

He spends way too long replaying that moment, and all their previous and subsequent interactions, over and over again in his head before his memory finally starts to give notice to all Steve’s lingering glances, subtle once-overs, and suggestive smirks.

“Holy shit, you were flirting with me!” Eddie blurts out the realization as soon as it hits him. “When you gave me your number - you were trying to hit on me!”

Steve, who had been interrupted mid sentence, barks out a laugh. “Now he gets it,” he teases as he glances over at Eddie. “You know, I couldn't figure you out for a while. All this time you never called but would still say hi to me when I picked the kids up from Hellfire, I figured it was some sort of soft rejection. But you really were just completely oblivious, huh?” 

“No yeah, I just have fucking rocks for brains apparently,” Eddie says, shaking his head self-deprecatingly as he rushes to reassure him, “I was definitely not rejecting you. Definitely, definitely not. Believe me, if I’d’ve known- I would’ve called so fast, man. I mean, trust me, your phone would’ve never stopped ringing.” 

“Good to know.” Steve smiles, his eyes so golden and warm in the dusk it almost seems as if the sun is on its way back up. He returns his attention to the van, just for half a second to give the machinery one last tweak, and then he straightens and closes the hood, wiping the car grease from his hands off on his jeans as he announces, “Well, your car should start now, if you wanna test it out and make sure. And then we can, uh, continue this conversation?” 

Eddie nods, hops back in the van, and turns his key in the ignition. It rumbles to life, and he lets out a laugh like a cheer. “You’re a goddamn miracle worker, Stevie!” he shouts.

“Glad I could help,” Steve calls back proudly. 

Eddie revels in the sound of his not-dead van for a moment longer before he takes a deep breath, turns off the engine, and jumps out to stand in front of Steve again. “So.” 

“So.” 

There’s a brief beat of buzzing silence. Eddie finds he doesn’t have all that much left to say, and he’s feeling far too giddy right now to be able to stand through some sappy discussion about how they feel about each other when it’s entirely unnecessary. He suggests instead, “Do you wanna just skip the conversation and go make out in the back of my van?” 

Steve grins at him. “Absolutely.” 

[xinganhao]

miscommunication too much communication 🗣️ soonyoung x reader.

an expansion from svt x reverse tropes. dedicated to @totomoshi, my love! ♡

FROM THE ORIGINAL POST

it's a little too hard to keep up with the string of confessions bursting out of soonyoung. the whiplash is dizzying, how he's going from talking about the way he felt when he first saw you, the crush that's been festering for weeks, the dream he had of you last night— and, oh, now he's on his knees. "soonyoung, please get up," you urge, horrified, but he stays on the ground. "isn't honesty the best policy?" he asks, eyes blown wide with overwhelming sincerity as he looks up at you. "c'mon, give me a shot! please, please, please!"

soonyoung who spams you with texts throughout the day. doesn't matter if you're on 'do not disturb'. he will hit that 'notify anyway' option, regardless of whether the text is load-bearing or not. you're lucky to get less than 20 texts in a day. his personal best is somewhere around 159 in a single day, which he's rather proud about.

soonyoung who will keep you on facetime for a minimum of three hours. he'll have you on call the entire night if he can manage, up until he gets that notification that his percentage is below 20 percent. waking up to the snoozing blonde on the other end of your long-forgotten video call is no longer a new sight.

soonyoung who will talk, and talk, and talk to you, no matter where you are. in a cafe? his hands are flying around animatedly as he gives you a play-by-play of his day. on the couch of your apartment? even better— he'll be playing all cute, trying to cuddle up in your personal space as he literally chats your ear off.

soonyoung listens as much as he speaks. you might think he doesn't, but he has a mental catalogue of every little thing you throw his way. a passing comment about your favorite candy as a child. that long-winded rant about an acquaintance you can't stand. he knows your coffee order, which shade of nail polish is your favorite, the songs that always make you cry. he is a wikipedia page of all things you.

soonyoung who is honest, because that's part of 'too much communication', isn't it? it's not quite bluntness; it's transparency. he's always gentle when admitting that you've hurt his feelings, or that he's been feeling a little lonely, missing you a lot more lately. one look at his face and you can already tell what he's about to say before he says it.

but you never have to guess. there are no mind games with soonyoung. he will dull the edges if he has to. he will agonize about how to break it, but he will break it to you, because he values the truth just as much as he cares for you.

soonyoung who is struck dumb when you confess to him, when you give him that piece of your heart that he's been patiently waiting on. he had imagined this moment; practiced his reaction in the bathroom mirror, even. he thought he'd be cool. maybe a bit suave. thank you. tell you that he reciprocated. instead, he finds himself robbed of every single thought clanging in his brain.

soonyoung is a man of many words, and yet you make him speechless.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[steveseddie]

‘cause it’s you and me

rating: g | cw: none | wc: 1,9 k | tags: eddie lives, hospitals and injury recovery, steve has a crush, he also knows how to play guitar, fluff

written for @steddielovemonth day one | You and Me by Lifehouse & the quote “every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”

read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know how much time he’s spent on the chair that is next to Eddie’s hospital bed.

Too long probably, if the recurrent pain on his back means anything. But not even that is enough to prevent Steve from staying glued to that chair, neither are the doctor’s mean looks or Robin’s insistence about him getting proper sleep or meals for that matter. Steve only leaves the chair when he has a shift or when he wants Wayne to have time alone with his nephew or when the nurses wheel Eddie away for surgery or tests or physical therapy. That’s it.

It makes the months that Eddie spends recovering blur together. Sometimes, Steve even forgets what day it is, only managing to keep track of it by the nurse’s schedule or depending on who shows up to visit Eddie. The kids and Wayne and Robin all come on different days, effectively balancing keeping their friend company with their everyday lives.

All of them except Steve.

Ever since Spring Break, it’s been Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Find Eddie. Get Eddie’s heart beating again. Drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. Pray that Eddie makes it out of surgery. Wait for Eddie to wake up. Comfort Eddie when he’s in pain. Take Eddie’s mind off of the murder charges that haven’t been dropped yet or the loss of their trailer or the long hours of physical therapy ahead of him. Listen to Eddie ramble on the days that he feels better about books and music and Dungeons and Dragons. Watch Eddie sleep and only then try to get a little sleep himself.

The last one might sound a little creepy but Steve thinks it’s justified considering he still can’t forget how Eddie looked when they found him– pale, bloody, dead. Watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly but steadily is the only thing that calms Steve enough for him to doze off in that damn uncomfortable chair.

Only at some point it stops being entirely about making sure that Eddie is alive– the staring. Suddenly, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie at all times.

Steve stares at his face while Eddie reads a book to him out loud and forgets to pay attention to what he’s saying. He stares at Eddie’s hands while he explains something to the kids and completely miss a question from Henderson. He stares at his mouth while Eddie slurps the extra jello cup that Robin sneaked in past the nurses and blush when she catches him and smirks knowingly at him.

It takes Steve some time to figure out why he looks at Eddie so much, obvious as it is, and when he finally does he actually leaves his chair and heads to the bathroom for a proper floor freak out.

He just doesn’t know what to do with these feelings for Eddie or where to go from there so he just– doesn’t do anything.

And things stay the same.

Except for the way Eddie keeps getting better.

The doctors are so optimistic that they announce that Eddie might get to go home soon. They have him doing laps around the hospital and start slowly tapering off his pain meds and encouraging him to pick back up things he used to do like writing and playing guitar to work on his dexterity, they said.

It’s why Eddie starts writing down plans and ideas for future dork campaigns again and why Wayne brings his sweetheart to the hospital.

(Eddie almost cried when he saw it, making grabby hands and hugging it against his chest with a happy sigh.

“I swear you’re happier to see that thing more than you’ve ever been to see me,” Steve muttered through pursed lips.

“Steve, don’t call her a thing! She can hear you!” Eddie protested, appalled. Which wasn’t a no but at least later he tells Steve that there’s enough room in his heart for two sweethearts.)

It’s not like Eddie goes back to being a rock god on the guitar right away and his writing is intelligible more often than not, but none of that stops him. He keeps trying, keeps practicing, and Steve loves him more and more for it.

Yes. Love. The first time the word pops up in Steve’s head it leads to yet another bathroom floor freak out but once he realizes it, he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting it out several times a day.

He’s doing it right now while watching Eddie excitedly write down a D&D character sheet for him with his tongue poking out adorably between his lips, tempting Steve to lean in and kiss them. So when a nurse interrupts them to take Eddie away for some test, he appreciates the short break.

When he’s alone, Steve reaches for the notebook that Eddie left on the bed. It’s off limits for any of the kids, but Eddie has let Steve peek at it before. He doesn’t think he’ll mind.

He reads his character sheet, recognizing some of the nerdy words while others fly completely over his head. Then he leafs lazily through pages of notes and doodles until he pauses at what looks like an unfinished song, fragments of lyrics and melodies written messily over the page.

Steve sends a sidelong glance to Eddie’s guitar where it’s leaning against the wall.

He’s never told anyone but he took some guitar lessons back when he started high school, hoping that playing an instrument would help get him girls. He knows how to read music and can fumble his way through a few simple songs, but he never made it past that. It seemed useless when he already had Nancy, and then when he didn’t have her anymore, he had the kids and the Upside Down and playing guitar didn’t seem like a useful skill to have when fighting monsters.

He chuckles. “Guess I was wrong,” he mutters to himself, thinking about Eddie saving the world with a Metallica song of all things.

Without giving it much thought, Steve stands up and carefully grabs the guitar, bringing it back with him to the chair and resting it on his leg, Eddie’s notebook open on the bed in front of him.

He clumsily places his fingers on the fretboard and tries to play the melody that Eddie wrote down. He messes up a few notes, but for someone who hasn’t touched a guitar in years he thinks he plays it decently enough. Eddie would surely do a better job, but it still doesn’t sound half bad. Maybe he can ask Eddie for help to improve and–

“What are you doing?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the melody. His fingers slip and the guitar makes a loud, screechy sound that makes Steve wince.

He whirls around and finds Eddie staring at him from the door, his face unreadable.

Steve gulps, his cheeks pinking up at being caught. “Playing guitar?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “Since when do you know how?”

“I– uh, I took lessons years ago but I stopped,” he says, tripping on his words. “I– I found your– your song and I was trying to play it–”

Eddie’s eyes dart to the notebook on the bed. Steve winces again, worrying that Eddie will get mad because he went through his things or because he touched his sweetheart.

“That sounds nothing like what I wrote.”

Or because he butchered his song.

Steve blushes brighter, reaching for the notebook and fumbling to close it. “Sorry, I– it’s been a while and I was never that good to begin with.”

With three long strides –and a lot less limping than a month ago, Steve proudly notices– Eddie reaches his side and snatches the notebook from Steve’s hands.

“Give me that!” He says, flopping down on the bed and flicking furiously through the pages, his face pinched.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry, I– I didn’t think you’d be mad–”

“You bet I’m mad!” Eddie says with a huff, patting the bed sheets, trying to find something.

Steve shrinks down on the chair. “I– I think I’m gonna go–” he says, pushing himself to his feet. Better to leave now before Eddie finds whatever he’s looking for and throws it at his head.

“Aha!” Eddie gasps, holding up his pen. Then he notices Steve standing awkwardly and frowns at him. “Wait, what? No, stay. Play it again.”

Steve blinks down at him. “What?”

“The song!” Eddie urges him but his voice is soft, gentle. “Play it again, Stevie, please.”

Stevie. Please. He’s not mad.

“What?”

Eddie heaves out a sigh, but it comes across as fond. “Dude, I’ve been trying to figure out the right melody for that song for like, half a year!” He says, shaking his notebook aggressively. A few pages fall off, but he pays them no mind. “But I just couldn’t get it fucking right, there was always something missing! And it was whatever you were doing when I walked in!”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Not at you, Stevie, no,” Eddie chuckles. “Just mad that it was you who figured it out with your secret magic guitar skills and not me.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he can’t help but let out a chuckle himself. “So you want me to do it again?”

Eddie nods enthusiastically and that’s enough to make Steve flop back down on the chair, propping the guitar on his legs and doing his best to play the song like he did before.

He must get it right because Eddie lets out an adorable squeal before using his pen to cross out something and write down whatever Steve accidentally came up with.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to dedicate this song to you now as a thank you,” Eddie says, grinning so wide at his notebook that it shows off his dimples.

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. It feels hot to the touch, probably from the pet name. “Too bad it’s a love song,” he jokes weakly, even if he wants nothing more than for Eddie’s words to be about him.

Eddie glances up, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I know,” he says softly, his eyes flickering nervously over Steve’s face.

Oh. Oh.

Stomach fluttering with butterflies, Steve stands up, grabbing the guitar by its neck to prop it up against the wall.

“Uh, you– are you leaving?” Eddie asks, chewing anxiously on his pen as he watches Steve move around silently. Little does he know that his heart is currently screaming at him to gently tackle Eddie into the bed.

But first–

“Just making sure your guitar is safe before I go over there and kiss you, Eds,” he says, the corners of his mouth ticking up when Eddie squeaks again, his eyes widening.

“Oh, o–okay. That’s smart. Yup,” he stammers out, his voice an octave higher, his cheeks pinking up. “Does that mean you also–”

“Feel that way about you?” Steve asks, sitting on the bed next to Eddie, who nods expectantly. Steve reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, Eddie, I do.”

When Steve leans in and finally, finally kisses him, Eddie lets his notebook fall to the floor so he can grab Steve’s shoulders. The urgency to write down that perfect melody now replaced by an urgency for Steve.

But it doesn’t matter, Steve thinks that melody is now seared into both of their memories forever, as is their first kiss. The first of many.

[loveamongdragons]

I've been thinking about what sort of conflicts Zuko and Katara would realistically have if they ever ended up together. I mostly either see fan interpretations where they bicker a lot, or where they have total understanding between each other, but I don't think that either would be the case.

So, first of all, the typical enemies-to-lovers who bicker all the time to hide the sexual tension trope is just not about Zutara: in the latter part of book 3, we see their wholesome and understanding relationship, and we can safely assume that this is what the basis of their bond will be going on forward.

However.

Conflicts happen, and especially if we are talking about a Katara that emerges from a long-term relationship with Aang, I think we will have two pitfalls she'd be frequently running into:

Trying to mother Zuko out of habit. Bonus points if she did not do it prior to them entering a relationship and then suddenly started doing so. Katara has been parentified, and she is used to playing the motherly persona for her partner - something that might cause Zuko to feel infantilized, leading to anger. Or: he might feel that he can't get through to Katara, and that she is acting not as herself, causing some sort of frustration he'd have no word for.

suddenly not voicing her opinion when she disagrees with him, out of fear that he'd bolt. Only applies if Katara emerged from a really long relationship with Aang where this continued to be an issue throughout the years, and it's admittedly less likely than the first one. Still, I can see a Katara hiding her thoughts out of habit, getting subconsciously angry about it, Zuko getting angry too because he feels that some sort of tension is in the air, and that Katara is more on edge than usual, and not understanding what the issue is.

On the other hand, we'd have Zuko misinterpreting innocuous phrases, especially if he emerged from a long-term relationship with Mai (who, let's admit it, tends to leave a lot of barbed comments).

So, we might have a Zuko who hides behind a wall due to suddenly feeling inadequate or despised, and Katara, understandably, not getting what the deal was. Bonus points if it triggers a trauma reaction in Katara due to memories of Aang bolting and leaving her.

We might also have a Zuko who got used to others not giving a lick of care regarding what he does and where he goes, and thus failing to communicate his plans properly, causing (again, understandably) anger in Katara. Again, bonus points if it reminds her of Aang's tendency to disappear.

Let me be clear: none of these would be relationship-breaking, and with how much trust and intimacy there is between them, I fully believe that they'd be able to sort it out. But especially at the beginning of a relationship, I believe that these issues would keep tailing them. In time, it would probably evolve into comments like "you're doing this thing again" and "ah... yes... sorry, my bad."